The sky over the Autumnlands cracked like old porcelain. Veins of gold split the clouds, revealing glimpses of other realms bleeding through — realms not meant to touch.
The Veil was failing.
And Serelith felt it in her bones.
She emerged from the obsidian sanctum changed — not in form, but in presence. The Codex no longer whispered; it listened. Her every step left traces of the First Tongue in the air, glowing runes that faded like breath on glass.
She walked toward the collapsing edges of the world, drawn by instinct — and by a pulse that was not her own.
---
Faelan felt her before he saw her.
He'd wandered beyond the reach of his kingdom, past the thornfields and rusted groves, guided by only one truth: she lived.
And then — she stood before him.
Serelith.
Her eyes held starlight. Her voice hummed with the weight of forgotten gods. But she still looked at him the same way — like he mattered.
They stood silently in the windswept clearing, between two realms unraveling, and said nothing at first. Words would have only diminished it.
Then Faelan took a breath.
"I thought I lost you."
"You almost did," she whispered.
He stepped closer. "What did they do to you?"
"It's not what they did," she said. "It's what they tried to hide."
Faelan searched her gaze. "Do you remember?"
She nodded. "I remember everything. The truth of my name. The power they feared. What I'm becoming."
"And the Unmaker?" he asked.
Her silence was answer enough.
"I saw it," she admitted. "And it wore my face."
Faelan reached for her hand. "Then we'll make sure it never becomes you."
"No," Serelith said softly. "It already is."
He flinched.
"But I think I understand now. The Unmaker isn't a destroyer. It's a mirror. It reflects what the gods were too afraid to become: free."
The air split. Behind them, the Hollow Court emerged like a tide of silver flame and bone-white thrones.
Above them, gods began to stir — not in judgment, but in fear.
And between it all, the Codex within Serelith opened itself.
> One path ends. Another must be spoken.
She looked at Faelan, his crown long abandoned, his loyalty unshaken.
"Will you stand with me?"
"Until the stars forget their names," he said.
Then they turned to face the world together — no longer hunted, no longer afraid, and no longer alone.
The war for the Veil had begun.