Elena did not wake for two days.
Seraphira carried her through the drenched woods, following animal trails and broken paths lit only by memory and instinct. The forest seemed quieter now not safe, but watchful.
Like something was waiting to see what she would do.
At last, Seraphira reached a ridge she remembered from childhood a place where the witches of Thamorra once lit signal fires on festival nights. It overlooked the old paths that led to their sanctuaries, and though it was forbidden for those cast out, she had nowhere else to go.
Elena needed help.
And Seraphira needed answers.
She lit a fire of her own, fed with herbs she barely remembered the names of, and whispered the summoning chant she had heard at the age of ten when the Circle came to offer their curse.
She didn't expect them to answer.
But they did.
The air bent inward, and from the smoke stepped three witches.
Each cloaked. Each masked.
Their presence was like frost.
"You summon the Circle," the one in the center said. "Knowing well you are unwelcomed."
I do, Seraphira said. But you will listen.
She stepped aside, revealing Elena, pale and fevered on the moss.
The witches stepped forward, silent.
Her mark burns her from within, Seraphira said. Something has awakened. I don't know what. But she saved me. She's not one of you. She's not cursed like I was.
The witch on the right knelt beside Elena.
She is not cursed, she murmured.
The one on the left spoke next. She is chosen.
Seraphira's eyes narrowed. Chosen by what?
The center witch removed her mask.
It was Theryn.
Her expression was grave.
Not what. Whom.
Elena is not the first. Nor the last. Something beneath the Veil is calling to the bloodlines that should have died. Bloodlines of power. Of fire. Of shadow.
She turned her eyes on Seraphira.
You are part of it. So is she. You are anchors.
To what?
To him.
The fire crackled louder. Sparks rose like fireflies.
"The Devil King awakens," Theryn whispered. "And the old blood calls to him. Each time one of you comes into your power, the gates weaken."
Then help us stop it, Seraphira said.
Theryn looked at her with something like sadness.
"You cannot stop it. Because you were never meant to."
"You were meant to fulfill it."
Seraphira staggered back. No!.
"You were born beneath a cursed star. Your soul is bound to his."
I never chose that.
Theryn's gaze didn't waver. No. But the fire did.
She stepped away.
Elena will recover. But the next time her power rises, it will not be quiet. Nor kind.
And if I bring her to you? Seraphira asked.
She will be used, the left witch said softly.
She will be hunted, said the right.
She will become what she was never meant to be, Theryn finished.
Seraphira gritted her teeth.
Then I'll protect her. Whatever it takes.
The witches began to vanish into smoke.
Then pray you never meet him face to face, Theryn said.
"Because when you do… the fire in your blood will choose. And it will not choose the world."
🌑 Below the surface…
Kaelreth stood upon a balcony of black stone, watching the rivers of molten shadow run beneath his feet.
The third gate cracked.
A sliver of light witchfire shone through.
He closed his eyes.
And smiled.