The gates of the Ash Circle stood like jagged teeth — tall, blackened stone carved with sigils too ancient for most witches to read anymore. But Elira felt them burn faintly beneath her skin.
They didn't open for her.
They remembered her.
Tovin stayed close, quiet. The silence between them said enough — he'd seen her stumble beneath that memory, watched her magic surge, and now they stood at the threshold of the place where it all began.
Elira lifted her hand. Her blood answered the gate.
It opened.
Inside, the Ash Circle was colder than the forest. The trees didn't grow here — just ash-covered stone, old roots, and the faint scent of burned wax and salt.
They were being watched long before the sisters appeared.
Three witches approached — their robes of grey and black, trimmed with thread made from bleached bone. One had eyes like polished coal. Another was barely older than Elira had been when she left. And the third…
"Elira."
The voice cut like salt on a wound.
Archwitch Naerina.
She hadn't aged. Not one day.
"You were expected," Naerina said calmly, though her gaze flicked to the boy. "And you brought… a child?"
Elira's tone stayed even. "I brought only what fate tied to me."
Naerina's eyes narrowed, just briefly. "Still fond of riddles."
"No," Elira replied, stepping forward. "I came for the truth. About my curse. About what my mother did."
Naerina tilted her head slightly. "You think you're ready for that?"
"I remembered fire. And a voice."
That made the other witches stir.
Elira pressed on. "The third seal has awakened. I want to know what's buried before the fourth does."
Naerina didn't answer.
Instead, she turned, robes sweeping the ash as she walked back toward the central sanctum. "Then come. Let's see what the Circle remembers of you."
Beyond the gates — in the forest's veil
Caelum stood beneath a half-dead pine, watching the warded stones from afar. He could feel the coven's protections — old, dangerous, woven into the roots of the land.
Vireya approached silently.
"She's inside," she said. "They accepted her."
"They were never going to refuse," Caelum replied.
"You're not going in?"
"No," he said. "I need to move east. The Order sent a second envoy."
"The one led by Lirael?"
Caelum nodded.
Vireya frowned. "You'll be outnumbered."
"I won't need numbers," he said. "I only need time. Keep your eyes on Elira."
"And if she remembers too much?"
Caelum's jaw clenched.
"Then stay close enough to catch her when it breaks her."
Ash Circle — Inner Sanctum
The central chamber hadn't changed.
Tovin was led elsewhere — "for his safety," they said, though Elira doubted that. Everything here had a double meaning.
Naerina faced her alone.
"Your mother bound you with fire and prophecy," the Archwitch said, pacing slowly. "You were born under an incomplete moon, at the edge of a season not meant for life. We begged her not to continue."
"But she did."
"She didn't trust the Circle's vision. She trusted one outside the veil."
Elira's blood went cold. "The Grey Watcher?"
Naerina didn't flinch.
"He stood at the edge of the fire that night. And whispered into your mother's ear."
Before Elira could ask more, another witch entered — tall, sharp-eyed, her presence enough to still the air.
"Vessa." Naerina said with a nod. "One of the Circle's Memory Keepers."
Vessa studied Elira as if weighing her worth.
"You smell like shattered bindings," she said.
Elira met her gaze. "I came for answers."
"And you'll get them," Vessa replied. "When the Circle decides you've earned them."
Behind them, a tapestry stirred — not from wind, but from power. Elira turned to it instinctively.
And for the briefest second, she saw it:
A symbol. Masked. Carved into ash.
The same symbol the Silent One left at the second seal.
Then it was gone.
Far outside, as night fell over the woods, Caelum moved swiftly toward a different firelight.
One that did not burn from hearth or magic — but from the slow march of *the Pale Flame.
And their envoy, Liraell, had already begun marking the earth with flame-sigils that could not be erased.