As they descend the stairs leading into the cave,
the ruins of the forbidden forest loomed behind them like a broken jaw, ancient stone fangs gnashing at the sky. Mist rolled across the ground as if the land itself breathed, and Genevieve stood in the center of it all, facing the Moon Sorcerer with steel in her eyes.
He waited in stillness, the silver folds of his robe unmoved by wind, his pale eyes ageless and empty of mercy.
"You promised the truth," Genevieve said. "Now speak."
The Moon Sorcerer inclined his head, the motion fluid and eerie. "Very well. You've earned it."
A pulse of light flickered in his palm, casting shifting shadows around them. The mist curled tighter, until the world faded, and a vision unfolded like a memory brought to life.
Genevieve saw a boy—young, proud, unmistakably Edric—standing in a grand tower beneath a silver sky. Before he knelt a man, chained, trembling, eyes wide with fear.
