A few hours after Briar left us, the branch finally let me go.
By unceremoniously dropping me.
I hit the mossy ground with a thud.
“Ugh!” I yelled, more out of frustration than pain.
Oliver was at my side in a heartbeat, hovering as I had just swan-dived off a cliff. His hands floated uselessly around my shoulders, unsure where to touch.
“Are you hurt?”
“I am fine.” I shrugged him off and pushed myself upright. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle my own. Let’s get going.”
He hesitated. “I think we should make camp for the night.”
His voice slipped into that warm healer tone he uses when he wants to sound reasonable.
“It would be safer than traveling through a forest we do not know in the dark.”
“You don’t know this forest?” I blinked at him. “Seriously?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “No. There were legends in my village about it. Stories of how it swallows people whole and gives them back wrong. Hollow. Like the forest keeps the parts it wants.”
His gaze drifted upward, wary. “How Briar survived here is a miracle.”
I snorted. “Briar is a miracle. I am not.”
The forest answered with a low hum beneath our feet, as if it disagreed.
“Look.” Oliver stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I am not saying I am scared, but…”
“But you are scared,” I said. “Adorable.”
“I am being cautious.” He straightened, trying for dignity. “There is a difference.”
I crossed my arms. “No. We keep moving. I am not waiting for the forest to decide we are dessert.”
He opened his mouth to argue,
But the ground trembled, just slightly, like something waking beneath the roots.
His eyes darted to mine.
“…Right,” he murmured. “Moving is good.”
We stepped deeper into the forest that absolutely did not want us resting.
“So why Banthys?” I asked, still trying to make sense of how gods are somehow alive and active in this world.
“Banthys has always blessed my village,” he said. “I dedicate my gifts to his work. But he is not the one my oath belongs to. If that is what you are really asking.”
“Who are you oath to?” I pressed.
He looked at me then, eyes sharper, studying me.
Have you not figured it out yet? He sent quietly into my mind.
I shook my head.
My oath is to the person we are bringing back, he thought. I dare not say her name aloud, in case others listen.
Wait… Kathera? I sent it back.
Yes. His nod was barely visible, more felt through the bond than seen.
Why? I asked.
He did not speak.
Did not smile.
Did not soften.
He just sent one thought, quiet and steady:
Ask her.
We kept walking.
I reached inward for Kathera, deeper than before.
Kathera, please. Explain what Oliver means. His oath is to you.
Silence.
Then, faintly:
I thought I was protecting Celentra by freezing it in time. So the darkness would stop. I was wrong. It did not stop it… It only slowed it.
My chest tightened.
I do not understand. Then why do you have this cult trying to stop us from bringing you back?
Another pause.
Heavier.
They were a safety net, she whispered.
In case the one controlling the darkness did not rest. I positioned them to attack anyone who tried to bring me back. I did not know my family would find another way to bring me home.
My jaw clenched.
Well, tell them to stop, I snapped. I am tired of killing them.
I cannot. Her voice trembled. They will not listen to me now. I cannot reach them. Oliver is the only one I can get through to. Let us just focus on getting the essence. Then we will face the rest.
The forest hummed differently now,
lower, darker,
Hungrier.
I pressed my palm to the ground, trying to feel it,
Trying to understand.
Something shifted.
Something alive.
We are being followed, I sent sharply to Oliver.
His head snapped toward me.
Just let them approach. Let us see what they want before we jump straight to killing.
Are you serious? I hissed. We are in the middle of a cursed forest, and you think whoever is stalking us is not a threat?
I believe in people, he answered.
Even if it is a bad choice, I believe in them until I am proven wrong.
His thoughts hit me hard, soft and steady and stubborn.
The opposite of everything I was.
And everything that terrified me.
Someone started singing.
A voice neither close nor far,
Not young, not old.
Something woven of breath and roots and memory.
It curled through the trees like smoke, like a spell unfurling.
“One who carries blood and grim,
Another who is of life…”
Oliver froze beside me.
His breath caught.
“That is two…
Each one is all that makes one alive.”
The forest leaned in.
Branches tilted, moss brightened, and the ground hummed beneath my boots.
My heart thudded against my ribs.
“A shard connected by all ten…
A song that has been sung
for a longer time.”
The last word echoed through the clearing, vibrating in the air long after the voice fell silent.
Oliver’s thoughts crashed into mine, sharp and urgent.
That was not human.
The forest pulse deepened, a slow, heavy thrum.
And deep in my bones,
Something ancient answered back.
Out of the underbrush came a person.
Their eyes glowed white,
not reflecting light
But producing it.
Their face was calm. Certain.
As if they had always known we would stand here.
“I am Elyon,” they said.
Their voice echoed strangely, as if spoken twice, once from their mouth and once from the air itself.
“I have been looking for you. The Fates have aligned our paths, and we must follow their plan.”
The hairs on my arms rose.
Their presence pressed against my skin like a cold hand.
Oliver took half a step in front of me, not blocking me, just anchoring me like a steady flame against a rising wind.
Elyon began to hum.
The tune was soft, but wrong.
A sound built of breath and bone and memory.
A melody that felt older than language.
The forest reacted instantly.
Branches curled inward.
Leaves shivered.
The moss brightened under our feet.
Roots shifted like restless serpents.
The air itself vibrated with the sound.
This is the Shard of Song, Kathera whispered inside me, her voice trembling with something I had never heard before.
Fear.
Oliver’s thought flickered like a spark:
Sahora… this one is not like us.
And he was right.
Elyon lifted their gaze.
Their white eyes fixed on me like a spotlight.
“You carry Blood,” they whispered, as if reciting something written long before I existed.
“And Life follows you faithfully.”
Their focus slid to Oliver.
“But we are still only two. Ten shards sing one soul. And the song is waking.”
Their hum deepened.
The forest bent closer.
And something inside me, something old, something wrong, something Kathera, stirred in response.