That night, Elara dreamt—but it was no dream.
She stood before the Herald again, but now it bowed its head.
"You bear the full glyph," it said. "You are worthy of the pact."
"I'm not interested in power," she replied. "Only peace."
"Then make your choice."
Images flickered around her: the city in flames, Aldric bleeding on the Court floor, Nathan screaming her name.
"What is this?"
"Possibilities," the Herald said. "Paths. In all of them… one must fall."
She clenched her fists. "There must be another way."
The Herald laughed. "Then write one."
She awoke in Aldric's bed, heart pounding.
He stirred. "Bad dream?"
"No," she said. "A warning."
She stood, barefoot on stone. Her eyes glowed brighter now.
"The Herald is coming."
Aldric nodded.
"But I'm not afraid anymore," she whispered.
He watched her for a long time.
"Then it should be afraid of you."