The forest no longer whispered.
After sealing the second tether, the eerie hum that had haunted the Northern Path vanished like mist at sunrise. Birds returned to their branches, their songs cautious but present. The wind stirred the trees with a gentler voice, as if the land itself exhaled. And yet, despite the peace around them, Lucian felt a tension building—tight and electric, like the quiet before a storm.
They camped in silence that night. Not because there was nothing to say, but because everything had changed. Selia didn't speak much, but she watched Lucian and Laila with the gaze of someone beginning to believe in prophecy again. Elina kept to herself, sharpening her twin daggers by firelight, the blades catching the flickering glow and reflecting it like twin stars. Every so often, her eyes darted toward the trees—as if expecting someone to appear.
It was Laila who broke the silence first.
"We need to find the next tether," she said.
Selia glanced up. "We don't even know where it is."
"Yes, we do," Lucian replied. He pulled the small leather map from his pocket—now glowing faintly at the edges. The lines were changing, reshaping with each tether they sealed. Where before there had been only smudged marks and aged parchment, now paths unfurled across the page like veins of light.
"The Emberlight Path," Lucian said, pointing. "It appeared after we sealed this one."
Elina frowned. "That path was abandoned during the Blight War. Nobody's walked it in over fifty years. It leads straight through the Blackened Vale."
Selia leaned forward, inspecting the map. "That place is cursed."
"Then we'll break the curse," Laila said simply. "Like the tether."
Selia didn't argue. She just nodded once. "At first light, we go."
🔥
The Emberlight Path lived up to its name—though not in the way Lucian expected. What had once been a road of radiant stone and warm moss, according to old stories, had decayed into a charred scar through the forest. The trees here were blackened husks. Ash drifted like snow across the ground, and the sky overhead took on a hazy red hue, filtering the sunlight until it felt like walking beneath a dying ember.
No birds. No animals. Just the crunch of boots over brittle ground.
"It wasn't always like this," Selia murmured as they walked. "The Emberlight Path used to be the heart of druidic travel. The ley lines ran straight through it. It shimmered. Glowed."
"What happened?" Lucian asked.
"Something burrowed into the lines," she said. "Something hungry."
They walked in silence for hours. As dusk approached, they found the remnants of an old stone structure—likely a shrine once, now just a fractured circle of scorched pillars. They made camp there. Laila built a small fire, careful not to disturb the ash-covered soil too much. Even now, it felt wrong—like the land resented warmth.
That night, Lucian dreamed again.
But this time, he didn't see the twins from before.
He saw Hades.
His older brother stood in a field of black roses, bare-chested, arms streaked with soot. His eyes glowed faint violet, and a strange mark pulsed across his collarbone—jagged, like lightning twisted into a rune.
"You're still chasing echoes," Hades said, not cruel, not kind—just tired.
Lucian stepped forward in the dream. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you do it? To Laila. To me."
Hades turned away. "Because I was afraid."
"Of us?"
"Of becoming nothing next to you."
The roses around him withered.
Then Lucian woke up.
🔥🔥
The next morning brought smoke. Real smoke.
Lucian jolted upright, heart pounding, thinking something had caught fire—but there was no blaze, no threat. The air itself had changed, thick with ash and a faint burning scent. Elina stood at the edge of the shrine, tense and alert.
"Something's coming," she said.
They packed quickly, not speaking. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
As they moved deeper down the Emberlight Path, the ground began to shift. It sloped downward into a narrow ravine where the earth had fractured and split, creating jagged crevices between patches of scorched stone. Strange flowers grew here—black-petaled with glowing red cores. They pulsed faintly as the group passed, almost like watching eyes.
Selia stopped suddenly. "There."
Ahead of them, nestled in the hollow of the ravine, stood the third tether.
Unlike the others, this one didn't pulse or glow. It flickered. Its form was unstable, like flame trapped in glass. It had no defined edges—just a swirling mass of molten color anchored by four ancient obsidian pillars. Around its base were charred bones, tangled in twisted metal and fragments of weapons long rusted to dust.
"What happened here?" Laila whispered.
"This was a battlefield," Elina said grimly. "The final stand of the Emberlight druids."
As they approached, the tether flared—suddenly and violently. A pulse of fire erupted from it, sending a shockwave through the air. The group ducked, shielding their faces.
And then it spoke.
Not in words—but in memories.
Lucian was no longer standing.
He was falling—into a vision.
⛧
He saw a young man wielding fire with desperation, shielding a collapsing village from a tide of corruption. A woman beside him—his sister—whispering to the wind, summoning storms from her breath. Together, they held the line as shadows surged. But it wasn't enough.
One by one, the druids fell.
One by one, the flames died.
Until only the twins remained—eyes burning, arms locked. They whispered something to the earth, a promise etched in fire.
Then they vanished.
The tether, born from their final breath, ignited.
⛧
Lucian gasped, stumbling back into his body.
Laila caught him. Her eyes shimmered with tears.
"You saw it too?" he asked.
She nodded. "They gave everything."
Selia stepped forward. "Then we must give something in return."
Lucian and Laila didn't hesitate.
They stepped into the circle.
The fusion came faster this time. Their magic met like old friends—stone and water, fire and mist. The tether fought back, resisting their presence, but they held firm. Together, they poured intent into it.
Not just power—purpose.
The flames roared once more.
And then settled.
The tether, now whole, glowed gold.
The ground around it softened. The flowers stopped pulsing. And far above them, for the first time in days, a bird cried out—a song of return.
The Emberlight Path had been restored.
Lucian and Laila collapsed to the ground, breathless, their bond deeper than ever.
Selia knelt beside them. "You two are more than fated. You're chosen."
"No," Lucian whispered. "We chose this."
He looked at his sister.
And she smiled.