For a moment, the entire world holds its breath.
May stands with her fingers tangled in the front of Nathel's shirt, her forehead pressed lightly to his. His hands cradle her face like she's something breakable—something precious—and she can feel the tremor in his touch. The sky above them is split open with ribbons of gold and violet, the remnants of the Veil's rupture still humming through the air.
The ground beneath their feet glows faintly, as if the Veil is whispering against the mortal world… remembering her.
Nathel cups her jaw more firmly.
"May. Look at me."
She lifts her gaze.
His eyes—
for the first time—
look completely, painfully mortal.
No shadow.
No ancient glow.
Just him.
Just Nathel.
"Don't disappear like that again," he whispers, voice raw with relief and fear tightly braided together. "I thought I lost you."
May exhales shakily. "I thought I lost me too."
He pulls her into his chest, holding her like he's anchoring both of them to reality. She melts into the embrace, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat ground her. He smells like cedar and smoke and something warm she can't quite name.
A wind sweeps across the cracked shrine, carrying with it the faint echo of the creature's scream fading into nothingness.
But something else lingers.
A hum.
A pull.
A pressure beneath her ribs.
She feels the bond shifting—changing—like a waking beast stretching its limbs.
Nathel feels it too.
She knows because his body tenses against hers.
He pulls back, scanning her face with a seriousness that makes her pulse race.
"The Veil tried to claim you," he murmurs.
"Which means it knows who you are now."
She swallows.
"Then tell me. What am I?"
Nathel opens his mouth to answer—
—but the ground trembles suddenly.
Not violently.
Not dangerously.
Just enough to make her skin prickle.
The shrine stones begin to glow.
One by one.
A ring of light forms around the cracked altar, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Nathel's expression darkens.
"That's not me."
"Then what is it?"
"The Veil," he says quietly, "is calling again."
May's breath catches.
"No. No, I'm not going back—"
"You're not."
Nathel steps in front of her, protective.
"Not while I'm here."
The light intensifies—
bright, golden-white—
not the creature's shadowy purple.
It feels…
gentle.
Ancient.
Almost curious.
May takes a slow step forward, drawn by instinct.
Nathel grabs her hand.
"Careful."
She squeezes his fingers.
"I'm okay."
She isn't.
But she wants to be.
The glowing ring rises from the ground like mist.
Shapes form within it—
shimmering symbols she doesn't understand
but feels in her bones.
They swirl around her feet like fireflies.
Then—
A voice.
Not the creature's voice.
Something older.
Something deeper.
Something that sounds like wind through mountains and water on stone.
"Half-Heart… Whole-Blood."
May's chest tightens.
Nathel stiffens.
The voice continues, echoing inside her skull:
"The bond has awakened.
The choice has been made.
The path remains."
Nathel steps closer to her side.
"What path? What are you talking about?" he demands.
The light flickers—
once,
twice—
Then condenses into a single golden flame hovering in the air.
It drifts toward May.
She can't move.
It touches her hand.
And sinks into her skin.
Her breath catches as warmth floods her arm, racing up to her shoulder, settling in her chest with a soft, thunderous thrum.
The bond quiets.
But it doesn't weaken.
It grows clearer.
Sharper.
More alive.
May's knees nearly buckle.
Nathel catches her instantly.
"May—May, breathe—look at me—"
She stares at her glowing palm.
The light slowly fades…
leaving behind a faint, golden mark.
A mirror of the one on Nathel's chest.
Her voice breaks.
"I… I have a mark too?"
Nathel swallows hard.
Fear and something like awe flicker over his features.
"Yes," he whispers.
"And that means something I never thought was possible."
"What?"
He holds her glowing hand between both of his, eyes searching hers.
"May… you're not just tied to the Veil anymore."
He pulls her closer, forehead brushing hers.
"You're tied to me."
Her heart slams against her ribs.
The mark pulses gently.
The air around them softens.
The world goes quiet.
May opens her mouth—
—but a sharp crack splits the air.
Both of them whirl toward the trees.
The shadows there shift.
Not like the creature.
Not hostile.
But watching.
Waiting.
Something—or someone—has come through.
Nathel steps in front of May again.
"Stay behind me."
She grabs his arm.
"No. We face this together."
The shadows ripple once more.
And a figure steps out.
Cloaked.
Silent.
Unfamiliar.
But carrying a symbol May does recognize—
glowing faintly across their chest.
The same mark she and Nathel now share.
The figure lifts their hood.
And May's breath stops cold.
Because the face beneath it is one she thought she'd never see again.
One that should not—
could not—
be here.
The figure smiles softly.
"Hello, May."
May's world tilts.
Because standing before her—
alive,
whole,
and impossibly real—
is Zara.