The silence after the battle was louder than the war.
Smoke curled through the shattered chamber, carrying the scent of scorched magic and ancient blood. The Purgeborn were gone — their bodies reduced to ash and regret — but their warning clung to the air like a curse.
Seraphina stood at the heart of it all, her wings still aglow with twilight fire, her breath steady, but her soul trembling.
And before her, the Watcher knelt.
"I saw the child in the River of Threads," he said, voice heavy with time. "A being born of dusk and dawn, flame and mercy. A child who will either seal the Veiled Gate... or tear it open."
Ravon moved to Seraphina's side, his blade still drawn, the protective fury in his eyes unsoftened. "If you came to harm her—"
"I came to serve her," the Watcher said simply, rising. "And to prepare her for what's coming."
Seraphina's voice broke the stillness. "Then tell me the truth. What is the Veiled Gate?"
The Watcher's hood fell back.
And where his face should've been, there was only starlight — swirling, shifting, endless.
Seraphina stared at the Watcher's face — or lack of it. It was like gazing into a universe with no end. Stars turned within stars, and constellations pulsed like veins of memory.
"The Veiled Gate," the Watcher said slowly, "was never meant to open. It is not a door to a realm — but to possibility."
He lifted his staff.
A sphere of light emerged, swirling with fragments of memory, time, and things that hadn't yet happened.
Seraphina gasped.
She saw herself — older, cloaked in shadows, cradling a child who burned with both fire and frost.
Then the vision split.
In one thread, the child stood before an army of light and flame, hands raised to the sky, ushering in a new era of peace — a kingdom of twilight harmony.
In the other… the same child screamed, and the world cracked.
Cities fell.
Skies turned black.
And a figure wearing Ravon's crown, soaked in blood, stood alone before a broken throne.
Seraphina stumbled back, the vision breaking.
"No…" she whispered. "That can't happen."
The Watcher's voice echoed like thunder beneath calm waters. "The Gate responds not to fate, but to will. The child you carry… will choose which world is born."
Ravon's expression darkened. "Then we protect her. We guide the child."
But the Watcher's light dimmed slightly.
"You do not understand, Ravon. The moment the Gate stirs… everyone will want to claim that child."
A beat of silence passed before he added:
"And some will seek to destroy her before she can choose at all."