The storm came at midnight.
Elara felt it before she saw it—like her heartbeat no longer belonged to her. The Seventh Marker, newly claimed and still heavy with silence, trembled in her satchel. The broken shard of the Eighth pulsed faintly beside it, responding to something not of this world.
Kael sat at the edge of their temporary shelter—a ruined watchtower near the mountain border of the eastern lands—watching the horizon. The stars had vanished.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
Elara nodded. "Something is shifting."
Mira and Liora stood guard, weapons ready. Even the wind had gone still. The land itself held its breath.
And then… the sky broke.
---
The Veil Torns
It wasn't a noise.
It was an absence of sound so sharp it rang in the bones.
A jagged line of black fire tore across the stars. From that wound in the sky, a swirling hole of shadow yawned open—something vast, ancient, and deeply wrong.
From within emerged a shape: winged, shrouded in chains, dragging pieces of forgotten worlds in its wake.
Kael gritted his teeth. "What the hell is that?"
"The consequence," Mira whispered, "of gathering all Seven."
The creature let out a cry—a sound like weeping mixed with thunder. The ground fractured. Trees bowed. The markers at Elara's side burned like stars ready to collapse.
"The Veil has fallen," Liora muttered. "And it's our fault."
---
The Herald Arrives
From the wound in the sky descended Theren, cloaked in shadow, his eyes wild with revelation.
He landed softly, feet brushing the grass like he still remembered how to be human.
"Elara," he said with an almost fond smile. "You did it."
Kael drew his blade. "You followed us."
"I didn't need to. You were always walking toward me." Theren turned toward Elara. "The Eighth has awakened, hasn't it?"
Elara stepped forward. "Only as much as I allowed."
"You think you can contain what you are?" Theren asked. "You weren't just meant to carry the Markers. You were made from them. The Eighth was born with you."
Her voice didn't waver. "Then I will choose what it becomes."
He extended his hand. "Come with me. You don't have to fight this anymore. You could rebuild the world."
She stared at him. "You want to burn it first."
He tilted his head. "Sometimes, ash is the only honest foundation."
---
The Collapse Begins
Theren stepped back and raised both hands. The air shimmered, then shattered.
The earth cracked, revealing long-sealed chambers beneath. Ghosts spilled into the air—remnants of the timewalkers, the old kings, the veilstitchers. Memories came alive and screamed.
The sky moaned as stars fell like shattered glass.
Kael rushed to Elara's side. "We can't let him merge the worlds. The Veil was never meant to fall."
"I know," she whispered.
"Elara," Mira called from behind, "the Keep's wards are holding. But not for long."
Liora held her blades in reverse grip, scanning the broken horizon. "Tell us what to do."
Elara touched the Seventh Marker.
And time paused.
---
The Choice of the Eighth
In that moment of silence, Elara found herself once more in the in-between.
A dreamspace. A memory.
And waiting for her… was the veiled woman from the mural.
"You know what you must do," the woman said, voice like wind through leaves. "The Eighth is not power. It is your reflection. It shows what you could become. What you fear."
"I don't want to fear it anymore," Elara said. "I want to use it."
"Then you must bind it to something stronger than magic."
"To what?"
"To truth."
The woman reached toward her. "And truth demands pain."
Elara opened her hand.
And the Eighth Mirror shattered fully—revealing a crystal heart, still beating.
---
Back to Battle
Time snapped forward.
Elara returned, glowing faintly with light from within.
Kael saw her and froze. "What did you do?"
"I accepted all of me," she whispered. "Even the darkness."
She held up the crystal heart—the true Eighth Marker.
"Theren," she said, her voice rising, "you were right about one thing."
He turned, curious. "Oh?"
"I am the Eighth. But I'm not here to end the world."
She raised all Seven.
"I'm here to restart it."
---
The Unraveling
With a scream of wind and light, Elara lifted the Markers high.
Each pulsed with its domain:
The First: Fire
The Second: Sight
The Third: Time
The Fourth: Song
The Fifth: Memory
The Sixth: Silence
The Seventh: Shadow
The Eighth: Self
Their lights braided together, a stream of raw power.
Theren lunged forward—desperate, hungry—but Kael blocked him with a shield of silence. "Not this time."
Elara's eyes burned with starlight.
She spoke a word no longer known to any language—
And the sky healed.
The wound sealed.
The creature vanished.
And Theren… fell.
Not dead.
Just forgotten.
---
After the Sky
It rained for three days.
The world remembered how to breathe. Magic pulsed, quieter now, as if exhausted.
Elara stood at the edge of the cliff, the Eight Marker now a soft blue in her palm.
Kael joined her. "So… what happens now?"
She turned to him. "We give them back."
"All of them?"
"They were never meant to be kept."
Kael brushed her cheek. "And what about us?"
Elara smiled. "That… I'm keeping."