The road that led west from Rensfall was not one that welcomed company. It cut through jagged valleys where moss swallowed stone and old trees leaned low enough to whisper secrets into travelers' ears. The deeper they went, the less the land felt like it belonged to the world Kael had come to know. Even the birds no longer sang in the usual chorus but called out in short, sharp patterns—as if echoing someone else's heartbeat.
They traveled in silence for most of the first day.
Kael rode beside Liora, who sat atop her mare with the faint tension of someone trying not to dream while awake. Her eyes lingered on passing shadows, occasionally flicking toward the two strangers who now followed them without protest—Nareen, the tattooed woman who seemed carved from old scripture, and Edden, the pale-haired youth whose gaze flickered too often to things that weren't there.
The wind whistled low across the hills as twilight settled.
Kael finally broke the silence.
"You two haven't said why the seal awakened now. What changed?"
Nareen's horse trotted alongside his, her voice as steady as the slow beat of hooves against dirt. "The seal didn't awaken because of time. It awakened because it was called. Something in her blood... answered something older."
Kael's knuckles whitened on the reins. "That something older—what is it?"
Edden tilted his head. "Not a 'what.' A 'who.'"
Kael didn't reply. He looked at Liora again, but she said nothing, her expression unreadable.
That night they camped in a grove where the trees grew gnarled and twisted, yet still bloomed with pale blue petals that shimmered faintly in the dark. The fire they built hissed and spat, not from wet wood, but as if something in the air resisted its warmth.
Liora sat beside Kael, her head on his shoulder. He could feel her heart beating against him—faster than usual.
"You okay?" he murmured.
She nodded but didn't meet his eyes. "There's a humming. In the earth."
Kael's brows furrowed. "Since when?"
"Since we left Rensfall. It's not loud, but it's always there, under everything else. Like... a drum."
Kael's gaze shifted to the others. Edden sat cross-legged, eyes closed, as if in meditation—or listening. Nareen polished a blade etched with runes Kael didn't recognize.
"They know something," Liora said, her voice softer now. "They aren't just guides."
"No," Kael replied, "they're watchers."
Liora looked up at him, her expression calm, but her fingers tightened around his arm.
"Will you still protect me," she asked, "if one day I become what they fear?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Especially then."
The silence between them wasn't empty. It was full of weight, full of everything they had been through, everything they hadn't said aloud. Full of every sleepless night he'd spent wondering who she truly was, and every time she'd wondered why the world felt so wrong to her.
Across the fire, Edden's eyes opened.
"You should rest," he said. "Tomorrow, we reach the Gloam Gate. What lies beyond isn't kind to tired minds."
Kael wanted to ask what the Gate was. Instead, he pulled Liora's blanket tighter and let her lean fully against him. He didn't sleep that night. The stars above were too quiet, and the fire too unwilling to fight the dark.
—
By the next afternoon, the path narrowed into a series of worn steps carved into an ancient cliffside. They dismounted, leading their horses carefully, every step shrouded by vines and creeping moss.
Then they saw it.
The Gloam Gate.
It wasn't a structure so much as a wound in the cliff. Black stone arched upward in a half-circle, its surface etched with markings that writhed if stared at too long. Vines curled around its base, but none dared cross its threshold. A wind blew from within—not a breeze, but a cold exhale from something ancient.
Liora stopped short.
"There's a voice," she whispered.
Kael stepped in front of her. "What kind of voice?"
"Not words," she murmured. "But… wanting. Something inside is waiting."
Nareen finally stepped forward, unslinging a satchel and pulling out a handful of bone-white tokens.
"This is the edge of the outer veil," she explained. "Beyond this, time doesn't always obey. The lands were broken by the old kings—before any of our empires. The leyline here is frayed. And something sleeps beneath it."
Kael clenched his fists. "Why bring her here?"
Edden smiled, faint and sad. "Because it remembers her. And she must remember it."
Liora moved past Kael without waiting for his permission.
He reached for her but stopped himself. Something in her steps told him that this was not a moment for shielding.
As she stepped through the Gate, the sky seemed to ripple, and Kael felt a pressure in his ears, like standing too close to thunder.
He followed her.
Inside, the world shifted.
They stood on a path that didn't feel like stone or soil but something... older. Above them stretched a vast emptiness, lit by floating lanterns that burned without flame. Trees with silver bark swayed though there was no wind. The air smelled of rain and salt and old parchment.
And deeper still, something pulsed beneath their feet—slow and steady. Like the heartbeat of the land itself.
Liora turned to him, her face pale in the unnatural light.
"I remember this place," she said.
Kael blinked. "How? You've never—"
"I've seen it. In dreams. Before I even had words. There was a woman here… she sang to me."
The pulse beneath their feet quickened, as if responding.
Far ahead, something moved—just beyond the reach of the lights.
Nareen unsheathed her blade again. Edden whispered a name Kael didn't recognize.
But Liora?
She began to walk toward it.
Kael followed.
He would follow her into the void itself, if that's where the road led.
And maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where it did.