Kaelion didn't dream that night.
He didn't sleep, either.
After the second seal broke, the Spiral mark spread like wildfire. It now curled across his shoulder, arced down his ribs, and pulsed beneath his throat like a second heartbeat. Every few minutes, a shimmer of light flickered along his skin, accompanied by a low hum he couldn't hear, but felt.
He sat in the shadows beneath the Worldpine, staring at his open palm.
He didn't recognize it anymore.
The spiral etched into his hand no longer looked like a mark.
It looked like an eye.
Wren sat nearby, silent. She hadn't spoken much since he'd awakened, but she hadn't left either. Her blade lay across her lap, forgotten. Her gaze kept flicking between Kaelion and the ever-thickening air around him.
Even Nyro didn't approach.
"You should eat," Wren said finally, tossing him a wrapped bundle of dried fruit and bread.
Kaelion didn't move.
"I said you should—"
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten in a day."
He shrugged, hollow. "Maybe I'm not supposed to anymore."
Wren stood and walked over, crouching beside him. "It's getting worse. I can see it."
He nodded slowly. "I can feel it. It's like something is trying to crawl out."
"The second seal wasn't supposed to break yet."
"I know."
She exhaled sharply. "Then we're out of time."
Kaelion finally looked at her. His voice was quiet but sharp. "Do you know something you haven't told me?"
She didn't answer. Not right away.
Then: "Yes."
He blinked. "That was... unexpectedly honest."
"You earned it."
She stood again and pulled a leather satchel from her pack. Inside was a bundle of black-threaded cloth wrapped around a copper-bound tome. The moment she unwrapped it, Kaelion felt the air tighten.
Like the forest itself was holding its breath.
He leaned forward. "That's Archive work. Forbidden rites."
Wren nodded. "This was buried beneath the Veiled Archive. Hidden even from other archivists."
She opened the book. The pages pulsed faintly, etched in spiral patterns that moved when Kaelion looked at them. The ink glowed like wet silver. His stomach turned.
"This is a grounding ritual. Not a cure. Not a purge. It won't remove the Spiral… but it might stabilize it."
"Might."
Wren didn't flinch. "It's not designed for people like you."
"People like me?"
"Carriers."
The word hit harder than it should have. Kaelion's throat tightened. "You knew this was coming."
"I suspected. The moment I saw your mark respond to the Veil."
He didn't speak. His silence said enough.
Wren gently pressed her hand to the pages. The spiral symbols flared, revealing a ring of connected glyphs. They danced like coals blown by wind.
"Lie down," she said.
Kaelion hesitated.
"Trust me."
He did.
He stretched onto the mossy ground, trying not to think of the way the earth pulsed beneath his back. Like a living thing. Like the Gate was breathing through the roots.
Wren began to trace the glyphs around him using chalk and ash, muttering in a language that made his teeth ache and eyes water. The symbols glowed dimly as they completed, forming a circle of shifting lines and curves that felt like they wanted to move inside him.
Nyro kept watch at the edge of the clearing. Every time the Spiral on Kaelion's skin pulsed, the spirit-wolf growled low and sharp.
As the last glyph locked into place, Kaelion felt a weight press against his chest.
His limbs twitched. His fingers burned. The Spiral inside him pulsed like a second soul trying to wake.
Wren stepped into the circle and placed her hands over his heart.
Her hands were cold.
And the world tilted.
For a moment, Kaelion wasn't Kaelion.
He was a memory.A flame.A scream turned inward.
He stood in a cracked hallway made of bone and time. On every wall was a mirror—but none showed his reflection. Only different versions of him. Some crowned. Some bleeding. Some laughing with blood-stained hands. All of them marked by the Spiral, and all of them waiting.
He took a step and the mirrors shattered.
Behind them stood doors—dozens of them—some open, some locked. Through one, he saw Wren dying. Through another, he saw himself wearing the Spiral crown. Through a third—
He saw Lysandra.
And she was smiling.
"You are the door."
"You are the lock."
"You are what the Gate remembers."
The voices weren't Umbrix.They weren't even his own.
Kaelion reached for a handle.
It melted in his palm.
And then—
The Spiral mark flared one last time—bright enough to burn a hole in the air—and then dimmed.
Kaelion gasped and sat upright like he'd been drowning.
The light faded.
The air stilled.
He looked down at his hands, expecting to see them changed. Twisted. Spiraled inside-out.
But they were still his.
Wren sat slumped beside him, panting, her face pale with effort. Her hands were shaking.
But she smiled.
"You're still you."
Kaelion didn't respond right away. He only looked at her—and then at Nyro, who had crept a little closer.
The Spiral was still there. It wrapped his arm, shoulder, and chest like a secret map. But for the first time in days—
It was silent.
Still.
Kaelion looked at Wren, voice rasped. "What did you see?"
She blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"In the ritual. You were inside it with me. Weren't you?"
She hesitated. "I saw a door."
"Which one did you open?"
Wren looked away.
"The one with your name carved into it."
He lowered his head. "Was it locked?"
Wren didn't answer.
She simply pressed the tome shut and wrapped it again in the black-threaded cloth. Her hands were still trembling.
"I didn't know if it would work," she admitted.
Kaelion looked at her. "And if it didn't?"
"Then I would've had to kill you before you became something else."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to wound.
But Kaelion didn't flinch.
He nodded, slowly. "Thank you… for not needing to."
She gave him a tired look. "Don't thank me yet."
Nyro padded closer and pressed his forehead against Kaelion's shoulder. The touch was grounding. Real.
Kaelion closed his eyes.
"I felt them," he whispered. "Other versions of me. All watching. All waiting."
Wren's voice was quieter now. "That's how the Spiral tests you. Not just by what you might do… but by what you already have."
He opened his eyes. "Do you think I passed?"
She stood, brushing moss from her knees.
"No," she said softly. "I think the Spiral just moved the goalposts."