They didn't camp that night.
Kael led them swiftly through tangled woods and silent paths only he seemed to know. Elara followed, the pulse of magic beneath her skin now a constant thrum. Every step she took felt different — lighter, sharper. The trees whispered as if they recognized her.
By the time the mist rolled in, thick and silver like spilled moonlight, even Kael's confident stride slowed.
"We're close," he murmured. "But we're not alone."
Elara froze. "You sense something?"
He nodded, eyes scanning the haze. "A presence. Not shadowspawn… something older."
Then came the rustle — soft, deliberate, circling them.
Kael drew his blade. "Stay behind me."
But Elara stepped forward. The mark on her wrist pulsed brighter now, glowing through the mist like a lantern.
Out of the fog, a figure emerged.
Tall. Hooded. Cloaked in deep blue and silver threads that shimmered like starlight. His eyes glowed faintly violet beneath the hood, and his voice echoed in a way that felt both near and far.
"So the lost heir finally wakes."
Kael moved between them instantly. "Name yourself."
The stranger didn't flinch. "I am Lysar, Watcher of the Forgotten Path. Guardian of the Aetherblood's line. And you, Kael Thorne, son of no house, are far from subtle."
Kael stiffened.
Elara stepped closer, the magic in her responding to Lysar's presence.
"You knew my mother?"
Lysar turned his glowing gaze to her. "I watched her light the skies in battle. I watched her fall into silence. And I've waited eighteen winters for you."
He raised his hand, and with a swirl of mist, a small orb appeared — swirling with silver and blue flame.
"This is your birthright," he said. "But it cannot be claimed by doubt."
Elara looked at Kael, then stepped forward. "I'm not ready."
"No heir ever is," Lysar replied. "But the darkness grows stronger by the hour. And you, child of Aetheria, must choose whether you'll rise… or vanish like the rest."
She reached out — and the orb burst into light, wrapping around her hand, sinking into her skin like a memory returning home.
The mist parted. The sigil on her wrist had changed again — no longer a mark. It had become a crest.
---
Kael helped her back as her legs buckled.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly.
"Flames," Elara whispered. "A tower… falling. A voice calling my name. And a crown of stars."
Lysar bowed deeply. "The visions have begun. Her path is open now."
Kael didn't look relieved. He looked worried.
"What's coming, Watcher?" he asked.
Lysar's smile faded.
"The same force that ended her mother's reign… and it remembers her blood."