The sanctuary quieted after Elara's first lesson. Kael patrolled the perimeter while Lysar retreated into the archives — an ancient chamber buried deep beneath the sanctuary. But Elara couldn't rest. The fire within her had calmed, but something else stirred now:
Questions.
About her power. Her legacy. Her mother.
She wandered the stone halls until she found Lysar again, seated before a great circular mural etched into the floor. It depicted a woman — cloaked in starlight — raising a blade toward a burning sky. Around her were twelve glowing orbs, each with a sigil. One of them matched the crest on Elara's wrist.
Lysar didn't look up as she approached. "She used to sit here too," he said quietly. "When she doubted herself."
Elara stepped closer. "You mean my mother?"
"Yes. Isolde Wynne. The last true Aetherborn."
Elara studied the mural, her heart aching. "What was she like?"
Lysar's eyes softened. "Wild. Brilliant. The kind of woman who loved so fiercely, the stars seemed to shine brighter when she laughed. She never sought a crown, only peace. But fate rarely gives what we ask for."
"What happened to her?" Elara asked. "Why didn't she raise me? Why… did no one tell me who I was?"
Lysar rose slowly and crossed the chamber to a locked crystal case. Inside it was a faded journal — bound in silver and marked with the same sigil Elara now bore.
"This was hers," he said. "She wrote in it until the day she vanished."
Elara's fingers trembled as she reached for it. The moment her hand touched the cover, the sigil glowed — and the case unlocked itself.
Inside the first page, scrawled in elegant, rushing hand:
"If I fall before she's ready, let her grow wild. Let her believe she's ordinary. Because only then will she rise for herself — not because the world told her she must."
Tears welled in Elara's eyes. She pressed the journal to her chest.
"She didn't abandon me," she whispered. "She was protecting me."
Lysar nodded. "She knew the darkness wouldn't rest. That one day it would seek you, as it sought her. So she buried your light, hoping the world would forget… until you were strong enough to remember."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then Elara asked, "Do you know who my father was?"
Lysar hesitated.
"That, child, is a secret even Isolde kept from us all."
Elara blinked. "Why would she do that?"
Before Lysar could answer, the sanctuary trembled. The torches along the walls flickered violently.
Kael burst in, sword drawn. "We have company."
From above, a roar shattered the quiet — not beast, not man, but something ancient and wrong. Shadows crawled down the walls like ink, and a voice echoed through the stone.
"The heir has awakened. The gate must not open."
Lysar paled. "They've found us."
Kael pulled Elara behind him. "Get her out. Now."
But Elara's pulse quickened. The flames beneath her skin stirred again. She turned to the mural — and it shifted before her eyes.
The woman at the center — her mother — now held a sword of pure starlight.
And below it, a new symbol glowed. A door, half-open, behind a veil of flame.
"The Gate of Aetheria…" Lysar whispered. "It's awakening too."
Elara didn't understand it yet — but she knew one thing:
She couldn't run anymore.