The city smelled wrong.
Not the usual smoke from burning refuse, not the acrid tang of cheap alchemy drifting out of basement shops. This was something deeper. Something older. Like the scent of a dream that had rotted and turned sour. Every street seemed stretched longer than it should be. Every shadow pressed closer, heavier, as if the glass walls themselves were watching me, waiting for me to falter.
I could not move. My boots might as well have been nailed into the warped boards of the warehouse floor. My chest rose and fell in jagged gasps as I stared at the doorway where Kael had vanished into the night. His words still burned in my skull, unshakable.
You will break this city. Or I will break you.
The memory of his voice wrapped tight around my ribs until I thought I might choke.
Selene clutched her pendant so hard her knuckles had gone white. Her fingers trembled against the silver chain, the faint rattle louder than any breath in the room.
"He is not just a man," she whispered. Her voice cracked at the edges, the truth she carried too heavy for her lungs. "He is… something else. Something older than the monarchy."
Jarek leaned against the splintered wall, his broad frame casting a long shadow in the torchlight. Blood had dried across his lip where Kael had struck him, ash still dusting his dark hair and clothes. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something steady, something human, but the words never came. Instead he muttered, low and grim, "We can't stay. Not another second. He'll come back. He always does."
I wanted to argue. To say maybe this was as safe as anywhere else in this cursed city. But I couldn't. Jarek was right. My instincts screamed it. The air itself carried certainty: if we stayed, Kael would return. And next time, I wouldn't survive.
So we ran.
The streets of the Dusk District opened before us like a maze carved out of fire and silence. Ash clung to our boots, leaving ghostly footprints behind us. The memory of the ruined market clung sharper still, filling my nose and burning my eyes. I kept hearing them—the screams, the breaking glass, the way flames licked through stalls filled with silks and spices. Those people had lives. Faces. Voices. And now they were only ash beneath our heels.
You saw it before, my mind hissed, cruel. In the shards. You saw futures like this. And you did nothing.
My throat tightened until I thought I might gag.
We moved in silence, avoiding even the faintest echo of our own boots on cobblestones. Every time a drunk stumbled out of a tavern door, every time I caught the scurrying shadow of a rat slipping into a gutter, my body jolted. The city was alive around us, but it no longer felt the same.
Selene finally broke the silence. Her voice was steady but quiet, as if the night itself might eavesdrop.
"There is a place. Safe for now. A sanctuary hidden under the city. Only a few know it exists."
Jarek's laugh was humorless, nothing more than a puff of air through his teeth. "A sanctuary under the city. Sounds delightful. Do they serve warm bread and a guarantee we won't be murdered?"
Selene's eyes snapped toward him, sharp enough to cut glass. "It is not a joke, Jarek. We will not survive long on the streets."
Her tone should have silenced him, but Jarek only shook his head, muttering curses under his breath.
I said nothing. My mind was already elsewhere. Somewhere I could not escape. The Glass Realm. Kael's eyes, molten gold one moment and something darker the next. The shards whispering futures I had not chosen.
And worst of all—the voice inside my head had returned.
Choose.
Just that one word, circling endlessly, patient and merciless at once.
I clenched my fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. I did not want to choose. Not now. Not when every path seemed like a blade waiting for my misstep. Not when the cost of a single decision could be another market burned, another friend broken.
But the voice did not care about what I wanted. It thrummed through my veins like a second pulse, resonating through the glass of the city itself, humming in the very stone beneath my feet.
We reached a narrow street where the lamps had gone out. Selene paused there, crouching beside a broken wall and pulling a folded scrap of parchment from her cloak. She smoothed it against her knee—an old, tattered map, marked with symbols that looked more like incantations than directions.
"There," she murmured, pointing.
Wedged between two collapsed buildings was a stairwell I would have missed if she had not led us to it. A crack in the earth, dark and damp, reeking faintly of mold and secrets best left buried.
Jarek peered into the stairwell, blade drawn, his voice low and skeptical. "Lovely. Smells like home."
I swallowed against the knot in my throat. "How do you know it's safe?"
"Because only the bound can enter," Selene replied. Her voice was steady, but her hand was tight on her pendant. "Only someone chosen by the Vein."
I froze. Because deep down, I knew she meant me.
Every shard I had touched. Every vision I had endured. Every whisper that had sunk its claws into my skull. They had not been accidents.
The Vein had chosen.
And it had chosen me.
Jarek went first, his boots creaking against the wet stone. I followed, Selene close behind, the three of us descending into darkness that felt alive, as though it knew who I was and had been waiting.
Each step pulled heavier than the last, as though invisible hands pressed down on my shoulders. The air grew colder, the walls slick with moisture that glittered faintly in the torchlight. And then the stairwell opened wide.
The chamber beneath the city was vast, carved into the bedrock itself. Torches flickered against stone walls, their flames reflecting on ancient runes etched deep into the rock. A narrow stream wound its way along the far side, glowing with a faint light the color of sapphires. The sound of the water was soft but unending, like the heartbeat of something immense lying just below the surface.
The sight stole the breath from my lungs. "This… This is incredible."
Selene's voice trembled, though with awe or fear I could not tell. "It is old magic. The foundation of the city itself. Hidden for centuries, protected by spells and wards. Only the one bound to the Vein can pass."
And there it was again. The reminder that I was bound. That none of this was chance. That the Vein had wound its threads into me whether I wanted it or not.
I wanted to laugh. To scream. To deny it. But the moment my eyes met the glowing water, I knew denial was useless.
This place knew me.
And it was not going to let me go.
Jarek dropped heavily onto a stone bench near the wall, his sword resting across his knees. He blew out a breath, trying to shake off the tension, but it clung to him like the ash still streaked across his skin.
"So," he said dryly, "here we are. Under the city. Sitting in a magical river cave. Waiting for a man in black armor to stroll in and gut us. Safe as houses."
I shot him a look, trying not to let my lips twitch. "Not doomed. Just… heavily inconvenienced."
It was a weak joke, but Jarek's mouth curved, if only for a moment.
Selene ignored both of us. She had moved to the glowing stream, kneeling by its edge, her cloak pooling on the damp stone. She dipped her hands into the water, and the faint light shimmered against her skin like liquid fire. Her pendant pulsed in response, beating with the rhythm of her own heart.
"This water," she said softly, "is part of the Vein itself. It has flowed here since before the city was built. Drinking it, bathing in it, letting it pass through you… it helps strengthen the bond. Stabilize the vessel. If Aradia is ever to control her power, it must begin here."
My stomach twisted. The glowing water was beautiful, yes, but there was something unnerving about it too, as if it could see me, judge me.
"And what if I fail?" My voice sounded smaller than I meant it to, almost childlike.
Selene's eyes were steady, too steady. "Then the city fails with you. The Vein rejects you. Everything collapses. But if you succeed…" She hesitated, then said, "If you succeed, everything changes."
Jarek groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Oh, joy. No pressure at all. Just the weight of an entire city on your shoulders. Drink up, then."
"Shut up, Jarek," I muttered. But my throat was dry, and the words carried no real heat.
I knelt beside Selene. The faint glow of the water reflected in her eyes, turning them into tiny shards of sapphire. I dipped my hands into the stream. The cold was shocking, biting into my skin, but beneath the chill there was a pulse. A heartbeat. Not mine. Not human. Something older. Something vast.
The water shimmered against my palms, clinging to my skin as though it recognized me.
Because it does, whispered the voice inside me. It has always known you.
I lifted my hands to my lips and drank.
The taste was strange—metallic and sweet all at once, like glass dusted with honey. The instant it touched my tongue, the visions came.
Not the flickering glimpses of the Glass Realm this time. These were sharper, deeper, cut straight into the marrow of me.
I saw the city sprawling out beneath the sun, towers of glass glittering like blades. I saw the Inner Ring glowing faintly, veins of light threading through its walls like lifeblood. I saw the monarchy's banners snapping in the wind, and I saw Kael standing atop the highest tower, his helm lifted toward me, eyes blazing as if daring me to climb to him.
I saw Jarek too—laughing one moment, bloodied the next, always fighting, always surviving by the edge of a blade.
And then I saw myself.
Not the girl crouched in alleys, not the thief hiding behind sarcasm, but someone else. A version of me that ruled with fire in her veins and the city bowed at her feet. A version of me that could tear down the glass towers with a thought.
The visions shattered, scattering into sparks. I gasped and stumbled back, water dripping down my chin. My hands shook. "It's… too much."
Selene reached for me, her grip firm on my shoulder. "You have to face it. All of it. The Vein is not only power. It is choice. It is danger. The cost will be high, but you cannot run from it forever."
Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her fear.
"I don't want this," I whispered, the words ripping raw from my throat.
Selene's expression softened, pity edging into it. "Want has nothing to do with it."
Jarek leaned back, shaking his head. "I believe she'll survive. If only because fate seems to enjoy kicking me in the teeth. And Aradia's survival guarantees I'll be dragged along for the ride."
That earned him a glare from me, but it broke the crushing tension for a moment. I even almost laughed, though it felt hollow.
The glow of the stream dimmed as though the ritual had finished, the light pulling back into the water's depths. But the hum in my veins did not fade. It stayed there, thrumming beneath my skin, a reminder that I had crossed a line I could never uncross.
Deep inside, a voice spoke again. Not the shards this time. Not the cruel demand of choose. This was calmer, steadier, but no less terrifying.
You have begun. There is no turning back.
I shivered.
The silence pressed down again, heavy and unnatural. Jarek's hand drifted to his sword, his knuckles whitening. Selene's pendant pulsed faintly, as if warning of something unseen.
And then I heard it.
A footstep.
Slow. Deliberate. Echoing through the cavern like a drumbeat.
We froze. None of us breathed.
Another step followed, and another. The sound was steady, unhurried, as though the one approaching had all the time in the world.
From the darkness at the far end of the chamber, a figure emerged. Tall. Cloaked. His presence filled the air before his face was even visible, a gravity that pulled the breath from my lungs. The torchlight caught his eyes, and they gleamed—not gold, not silver, but fractured like the shards themselves, every color at once.
When he spoke, his voice was smooth. Familiar. Terrifying.
"Aradia Duskborne."
Hearing my name on his tongue made every hair on my arms rise.
And in that moment, standing on the edge of the Vein's glow, I knew the real test had only just begun.