Kael did not wake for two more days.
In that time, Elyra barely left his side. Between tending to the wound and deciphering the strange symbols etched into the inside of his cloak, she could feel the threads of her quiet life unraveling.
Each time she tried to rest, her dreams took her deep into the Veil — only it was not the twisted forest she had grown up fearing. In her dreams, the trees stood tall and silver, leaves glowing like starlight. A woman waited among them, veiled in black lace, her face hidden, her hands outstretched. And always, she whispered Elyra's name as though she had known it for centuries.
When Kael finally stirred, it was near midnight. A soft knock of his hand on the wooden cup she'd left beside him was the only sound.
Elyra sat upright in the chair by the hearth. "You're awake."
He blinked slowly, the fire casting golden light across his sharp features. His voice was hoarse. "Where am I?"
"Safe," she said, rising to check the bandage on his side. "For now."
His eyes darted around the room, taking in the herbs drying by the window, the collection of knives and tinctures on the shelves, the weathered books stacked near her bed. "You're a healer."
"Among other things," Elyra said carefully.
He looked down, fingers brushing the stitched wound. "You saved my life."
"Seems so," she replied. "And you owe me answers."
Kael didn't respond at first. His hand moved to his belt, searching — then pausing as he realized the ring was gone.
"I have it," Elyra said, crossing the room. She held it out in her palm, silver glinting under candlelight.
His entire body tensed. "You shouldn't touch that."
"Why? Because it belongs to a house that no longer exists?" she asked. "Or because it's cursed?"
His gaze sharpened. "Both."
That wasn't the answer she expected.
He sat up slowly, grimacing with effort. Elyra placed the ring on the table beside him but kept her fingers close.
"I need you to tell me what's happening," she said. "You spoke of a queen. Of stopping her. You bear the sigil of a fallen bloodline, and you came out of a forest no one survives."
Kael stared into the fire for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet — reverent, almost.
"The House of Serith never died. It was sealed."
Elyra frowned. "Sealed?"
He nodded. "Long ago, the kingdom made a pact. They couldn't destroy Serith outright — not without awakening the magic they feared. So they buried it beneath the Veil. Bound it in time. My bloodline is the key. I am… what's left."
She felt a chill crawl up her spine. "And the Queen?"
Kael's jaw clenched. "Still dreaming. Still waiting."
Lightning flashed distantly outside the window.
Elyra's fingers drifted to the pendant beneath her blouse — a single shard of moonstone wrapped in copper wire. Her mother's charm. It had always warmed at the edge of the Veil, and now it buzzed faintly against her skin.
"My mother disappeared into that forest when I was ten," she said quietly. "No one believed me when I said she didn't die. Just… vanished. Like the trees swallowed her."
Kael looked at her, truly looked, as if seeing something in her face for the first time. "Then you've felt it too. The pull."
"The dreams," she whispered. "The whispers."
He nodded once. "It means you're marked. Like me."
Elyra stepped back slightly, a mix of fear and curiosity dancing in her chest. "Marked for what?"
Before Kael could answer, a sharp thud struck the door.
They both froze.
Another thud. Then scratching.
Elyra moved toward the door, hand instinctively reaching for the blade beneath the counter.
Kael hissed, "Don't open it."
But she already knew. Whoever — whatever — was outside wasn't human. She felt it in her bones, in the way the candle flames flickered and the shadows on the wall bent just slightly the wrong way.
A voice slithered through the wood.
"Return the Serith blood… or we will take it."
Kael's hand closed around the ring.
The door rattled in its frame. Elyra raised her knife, her heart pounding. But before the door could break, Kael whispered a word — a name maybe, or a spell — and the ring pulsed with light.
A blast of cold air shot through the cottage, flinging the door open—
But the path outside was empty.
No footprints in the mud. No voice in the wind.
Just the trees of the Veil… leaning a little closer than before.