Safyrr sat across from me, hands folded over her lap, the quiet crackle of the fireplace filling the silence between us. I had just finished recounting everything: the whispers, the blinding light, the glowing figures, and the moment the Ancient Rune burned away from my skin.
She listened without interrupting, her expression unreadable, though her eyes never left mine. When I finally trailed off, my voice low and uncertain, I asked the question that had been gnawing at me since the vision ended.
"Why me?" My voice cracked despite me. "Why not someone else? Why did the Rune even choose me in the first place?"
Safyrr's gaze softened, but her voice held the gravity of something ancient. "It wasn't random, Athena. The Ancient Rune was part of a pact, one forged not long ago with the Ancients of the Aetherworld. A sacred agreement that when the time was right, when you stood at the edge of who you are and who you are meant to become… they would intervene."
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. "The Rune was sent to you for a reason. Because you were searching, even if you didn't realize it. Because something inside you called out, and the Ancients answered."
My throat tightened. "But why me?"
"Because you are not just anyone," she said, voice steady. "You are a thread in something far greater, and the Ancients saw fit to guide you, just far enough to awaken what was forgotten."
She stood, the firelight dancing across her silver-lined features. "But it was never meant to stay. The Rune was a borrowed light, a temporary gift to show you what you needed to see. It helped uncover a path only you can walk."
A beat passed before she added quietly, "And now, the turning point has arrived. They've done their part. What comes next depends entirely on you."
Her gaze sharpened, voice dropping just enough to stir the air around us. "The prophecy… wasn't for the world, Athena. It was for you. A warning, a reflection. Every choice you make from here on… will shape what your destiny becomes. Trust carefully. Love deeply, but wisely."
I sat back, the edges of my thoughts fraying with frustration. "So it has nothing to do with Cole?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. "Then why all the visions? Why did they show me him? And why did he go so far to subdue the Ancient Rune in the first place?"
Safyrr's expression darkened, her features tightening with thought. "Visions aren't given without purpose," she said. "But not all purposes reveal themselves at once. The Ancients showed you Cole for a reason. His presence in your visions means he's part of what's to come, whether as threat or trigger."
My jaw tensed. "So he's dangerous."
She nodded slowly. "The fact that he tried to suppress the Rune says enough. He feared it. Not just for what it was, but for what it might reveal. Someone doesn't silence something so ancient unless they're hiding something they're terrified you'll uncover."
I swallowed hard. "So… he tried to bury the truth."
"Or twist it," Safyrr said, her voice low. "But truth has a way of clawing its way back to the surface."
I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of it all pressing harder against my chest. "This is all so much to take in," I murmured. My voice came out quieter than I expected, almost lost to the crackling fireplace behind us. I straightened, pushing past the fog of thoughts. "Do we have anything, anything at all about Cole's movements or whereabouts? Anything the Council might've found?"
Safyrr's gaze flicked toward the corner of the room, where a stack of papers and sealed reports rested on a small table. "That is what we're about to go over." She walked across the room, sifting through the pile with practiced ease. "Zarich was here earlier this morning. The Council finally drew a summary of their latest findings. Fragmented, but it's more than we had before."
My pulse quickened. "And?" She handed me a thin folder bound in black cord. "He's moving… but not randomly. Every location he's left his imprint? They all trace back to places tied to energy convergence points. Ancient ones. Forgotten by most… but not by him."
A chill prickled at my spine. "What kind of imprint?"
"Residual magic," Safyrr said. "Dark, distorted. It lingers like a shadow long after he's gone. The Council's seers picked up traces of it, twisted energy patterns warping natural flows. That's how they've been following his trail."
I stared down at the folder in my lap. "Why energy points?" I asked quietly.
Safyrr's expression darkened, her voice measured but grim. "Because we were right in our assumption. He's looking to open the portal back to the Shadowlands."
My stomach dropped, my fingers clenching the folder tighter. "How close is he?" Safyrr shook her head slowly. "Closer than we'd like. But not close enough yet. He's still gathering what he needs. And that gives us time. Not much, but some."
I met her gaze, a hollow ache blooming in my chest. "Then we must stop him." She nodded, but there was something behind her eyes. Something she wasn't telling me yet. And that terrified me more than anything. She reached forward, gently closing the folder in my hands. Her fingers brushed mine, grounding but firm. "Athena," she said, eyes locking onto mine, "please be careful. I can't let you get more involved."
The air stilled between us. My chest tightened. "You still bear his marks," she added quietly, the words hanging heavy in the space between us. "Whether you realize it or not. And Lara…" She trailed off, pain flickering behind her eyes. "Lara is already in too deep. We can't chance losing you to him as well."
My throat tightened. "Is there really no way to save her?" I asked, my voice cracking at the edges. "I tried, Safyrr. Heaven knows I tried so hard to make her see the truth. But she…" I swallowed hard. "She freaking attacked me when I told her." Safyrr closed her eyes for a brief moment, her jaw tightening. "We will try our best to save her, Athena. Before it's too late. I know how much she means to you." She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently, but there was steel behind her words. "But you need to be careful. Right now, Lara's loyalty isn't to you, it's to Cole. And every minute that passes, she's only sinking deeper into his grip."
My heart pounded as the truth settled in like frost. I wasn't just losing my best friend, I was watching her vanish into the shadows, and I didn't know if she'd ever make it back.
We didn't speak for a while after that. The weight of it all pressed in, too thick to ignore. But Safyrr, in her usual quiet grace, didn't try to fill the silence with empty words.
Instead, she stood and offered her hand. "Come on. Let's make dinner. You look like you haven't eaten properly all week." I hesitated, then nodded and took her hand.
The kitchen was warm and earthy, lit by soft golden lights that glowed from enchanted glass orbs hanging overhead. Spices hung from bundles above the hearth, and herbs bloomed in ceramic pots along the windowsill. It felt… lived in. Safe.
Safyrr handed me a knife and a wooden board, nodding toward a pile of bright vegetables. "You chop. I'll stir." We moved in rhythm, quietly at first, chopping, peeling, seasoning. The silence between us was different now. Not heavy, but easy. Familiar. Like threads slowly weaving together.
"Did you always live here?" I asked, glancing up as I sliced through a purple pepper. She smiled faintly. "No. This place found me. Much like how the Rune found you." We both chuckled softly, the sound small but genuine.
When we finally sat down to eat, Safyrr raised her glass to me with a small, knowing smile. "To choices," she said. I lifted mine in return, a whisper of a smile tugging at my lips. "To surviving them."
As I was finishing the last bite on my plate, Safyrr set her fork down and tilted her head slightly. "Is there anything else on your mind?" she asked softly. "Something you'd like to share?" I blinked at her, caught off guard. "You mean… aside from the near-apocalyptic visions, the prophecy, and the whole Lara-being-possibly-lost-to-an-ancient-shadow-being thing?" Her lips twitched in amusement, but she said nothing. Then it hit me. Oh. She wasn't talking about any of that. She was talking about Riven.
I hesitated for a beat, then set my fork down, the quiet clink louder than expected in the calm of Safyrr's kitchen.
"There… is something," I admitted, watching the candlelight flicker against the rim of my glass. Safyrr didn't press. She simply nodded once, giving me the space to speak. I inhaled slowly, choosing my words with care. "I found him in the woods. A few days ago. He was bloody. Bruised. He was…" My voice faltered, the image flashing back vividly in my mind. "He wasn't himself. He was raging, lashing out like something had taken over. I've never seen anyone like that before."
Safyrr's eyes narrowed slightly, but not in surprise. She listened intently, her face unreadable. "That's why I reached out," I continued. "Why I asked Zarich to get the potion. I didn't know what else to do. He wouldn't let Lara near him… and I didn't think he'd survive the night without it." Safyrr gave a slow nod, folding her hands together on the table. "Since the first moment I met that boy," she said quietly, "I sensed something… unusual in him. A foreign energy. Not exactly dark, but vast. Ancient. Like something tethered far beyond this realm."
I looked up, heart thudding. "This young man," she continued, " looks like he carries the weight of the Omniverse on his shoulders. Whether he knows it or not, there's something dormant in him, Athena. Something he's been keeping buried. And I suspect it's getting harder for him to keep it chained."
I stared at Safyrr, the gravity of her words sinking deep into my chest. "Do you know what he is?" I asked softly, the question slipping out before I could stop it. Safyrr didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the window, lost in thought. "Not yet," she murmured.
Before I could press her further, the front door creaked open. A gust of cool air swept through the space, and the scent of rain and forest clung to it like a shadow. "Evening," came Zarich's voice, casual and familiar, as he stepped into the house. He shut the door behind him with a soft click and slipped off his jacket, shaking off the chill.
Safyrr didn't look up. "You're late." Zarich raised a brow, unbothered. "You always know when I'm coming. What's the point of rushing?" I smiled faintly at their easy exchange as he stepped into the kitchen. His presence grounded the room, a subtle balance to Safyrr's intensity.
"Dinner smells good," he said, eyeing the pot on the stove. "Grab a bowl and join us," Safyrr said, finally glancing over. "We saved you some." Zarich didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed a bowl, served himself, and returned to the sitting room, plopping down across from me with his usual casual air.
"I assume I missed some dramatic revelation," he said around a mouthful of food, not even trying to hide his curiosity. I leaned back slightly in my chair. "Safyrr briefed me on the Council's report." Zarich glanced at her, then back at me, chewing slower now.
"Any new development on your end?" I asked, hoping maybe there was something, anything they hadn't already covered. Zarich's expression tightened just slightly. He looked at Safyrr again, as if waiting for some silent go-ahead, but she simply returned his gaze, unreadable. He shook his head. "Nothing new. At least, nothing solid."
My stomach sank a little, but I nodded, trying not to let it show. "Right." Safyrr must have sensed the change in me, the quiet disappointment I couldn't quite mask. Her expression softened as she turned to face me. "Athena, dear," she said gently, "your priority right now is to stay safe."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. "Let us handle this," she continued. "You've been through enough. The Council has eyes on the ground. Zarich and I are doing everything we can. You don't have to carry this on your own." My throat tightened at her words, but I forced a small nod. I knew she meant well, and maybe a part of me wanted to believe it was enough to let go, to trust they had it under control. But deep down, I wasn't so sure.
We lingered at the table a little longer. The earlier tension had faded into the background, and the conversation drifted naturally and inevitably to the Festival. "You all set for next week?" Zarich asked, nudging his now-empty bowl aside. I gave a tired smile. "Almost. We've been rehearsing like crazy. Ezzy's been driving us all mad with last-minute changes."
Safyrr offered a small smile. "I've no doubt you'll all leave quite the impression." Zarich leaned back in his chair. "Well, I expect front-row seats and at least one dramatic costume reveal." I raised a brow, the corner of my mouth lifting. "There might be one," I said, keeping my tone deliberately vague. "You'll just have to wait and see."
Zarich narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You're enjoying keeping me in suspense a little too much."
"Maybe," I replied, sipping from my glass. "Maybe not." Safyrr gave me a subtle look over the rim of her mug, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Something tells me Lowmere won't know what hit it."
The moment lingered, warm and light, before Zarich glanced at the time and pushed back his chair with a quiet stretch. "Well," he said, rising to his feet, "I should get you home before someone thinks I've kidnapped you." I let out a soft laugh, though part of me wasn't ready to leave just yet. Safyrr's home had a kind of stillness I didn't realize I needed. But I nodded. "Yeah… probably should."
I gathered my things as Safyrr rose from her seat, walking us to the door with that quiet grace she always carried. At the threshold, I turned and wrapped my arms around her. She held me for a moment, then pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. "Stay sharp, Athena. And trust your instincts."
"I will," I said softly. Zarich gave her a small nod as he stepped past, already unlocking the car. "We'll talk again soon." Safyrr didn't answer right away. She just gave a faint smile, like she already knew more than she was letting on. We stepped out into the night, the cool air brushing against my skin as the door clicked softly shut behind us.
The ride back was quiet. Beyond the windows, the city shimmered under the twin moons, its glass towers reflecting violet skies and flickers of enchanted streetlamps. Neither of us said much. The silence wasn't awkward. It was more like a mutual understanding.
When we reached my street, Zarich slowed the car to a stop just outside the gate. "Thanks for the ride," I said, reaching for the door. He gave a small nod. "Get some rest, Athens." I stepped out, the hum of the engine fading behind me, the city buzzing low around me.
I trudged along the long driveway, the charm-lights casting a soft, shifting glow beneath my feet. The hum of the wards along the perimeter buzzed gently in the background, subtle, comforting and familiar.
By the time I reached the front door, I was more than ready to call it a day. The house was quiet and dim when I stepped inside. I walked straight to my room, dropped my bag by the door, and collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. The sheets were cool against my skin, and for once, the silence didn't feel heavy.
I must have drifted off at some point, because the next thing I knew, the soft buzz of my comm crystal jolted me awake. Still groggy, I reached for it, blinking against the dim glow of the screen as the message came into focus.
It was from Riven.
Riven: Meet me in the forest. Same spot.
No explanation, no greeting. Just those words, sitting on the screen like a quiet pull I couldn't ignore. I sat up slowly, brushing my hair back as I stared at the message again. The forest wasn't far, but the memory of finding him there last time, bloodied, unhinged, barely holding himself together, still lingered like smoke in the back of my mind. But I didn't hesitate. Whatever this was, I needed to know. I needed to see him.
I got out of bed, slipped on my boots, and reached for my jacket, knowing the night air would be cool and the forest even colder beneath the twin moons. I tucked the crystal into my pocket and slipped out the front door, making my way toward the forest, where shadows stretched long across the quiet path ahead.
The moment I stepped off the last stone slab and onto the dirt trail, the air shifted, edged with something that prickled against my skin. Trees rose around me like silent sentinels, their limbs weaving together high above, blotting out the sky. I followed the familiar curve of the trail, the ground soft beneath each step. No lanterns lit this path, but I didn't need them. I knew exactly where to go.
The path curved gently before opening into the small clearing tucked between ancient trees, the same place I'd found him not long ago, bruised, barely holding himself together. But this time, it was empty. I slowed to a stop at the edge, my eyes sweeping the space, breath held tight in my chest. There was no sign of him. No sound beyond the whisper of wind through the branches, no shadow leaning against the trees, no voice waiting in the dark.
I called out his name, tentative at first, barely louder than the rustling leaves.
"Riven?" The sound seemed to vanish into the trees, swallowed by the hush that blanketed the clearing. I waited, listening, hoping for the crunch of footsteps or the low timbre of his voice breaking through the silence. But there was nothing. I took a few steps forward, scanning the edges of the clearing again, more carefully this time. My heart thudded harder, not in fear, but with the sharp sting of disappointment. He had asked me to come. So where was he?
As I reached for my comm crystal, fingers just brushing the edge of my pocket, something grabbed me from behind. I barely had time to react before my back slammed into the trunk of a tree, bark biting into my spine. An arm locked across my chest, holding me firm. My breath hitched, heart pounding against my ribs. And just like that, the forest disappeared. I was no longer under the open sky. I was back in that hallway.
Tendrils of darkness slithered around me, coiling tighter and tighter until they dug into my skin, forcing me down. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Blistering pain shot through my body, panic clawing its way up my throat as taunting voices closed in, cruel and cold and echoing through the hollow of my mind. The terror, the helplessness, the violation of being trapped by something I couldn't fight, surged back like a wave crashing over me.
My heart stuttered, breath caught somewhere between my ribs and throat, every muscle locked in place. But then, through the rising panic, came a flicker of warmth. A scent I recognized. A presence that didn't belong to the fear.
"Riven," I whispered, the name barely making it past my lips. "Let go." His grip eased immediately, the pressure disappearing as he stepped back. I stumbled forward a step, hands braced on my knees, trying to force air into my lungs, grounding myself in the present.
Riven approached slowly, his steps careful, guarded. When I looked up, I found a deep frown etched across his face. "Are you okay? I'm sorry," he said, his voice rougher now, like the words didn't come easily. "I didn't mean to scare you." He hesitated before adding, "I didn't think… you'd react like that."
I straightened slowly, the chill still clinging to my skin. "Neither did I." Riven watched me for a long, quiet moment, the crease between his brows deepening. Then he stepped closer, closing the space between us with deliberate care. His hand lifted, fingers brushing gently beneath my chin, tilting my face toward his. His voice dropped, soft but laced with something raw. "What the hell happened to you?"
There was no accusation in his tone. Only concern. A weight behind the words that made my chest tighten all over again. His gaze didn't waver. It was steady, unrelenting, and far too intense. It burned through the quiet, stirring something I wasn't ready to unpack. I looked away, eyes drifting toward the trees, trying to gather myself. After a beat, I glanced back up at him. "Do you mind if we walk a little?"
Riven's reply came without pause. "Lead the way."