Rain fell hard over Hollow Ember.
Black clouds churned above the mountains as lightning forked across the sky. The rebels worked in silence, half-hidden beneath canvas tarps, securing supplies and dismantling the outposts they had called home. The sound of hammering mixed with thunder. Every torch was dimmed. Every voice, hushed.
Chris stood inside Maya's command tent, staring down at a map soaked with red ink. Symbols flickered on the parchment—tracking spells, sentries, Dominion patrol routes. Mira stood beside him, arms crossed, cloak damp from the storm. Across the table, Maya pointed to three marked locations.
"These are our options," she said. "The highlands of Vora, the underground ruins at Ashglen, or the shattered coast near Olir's Fall. We can't hold Hollow Ember, not with the Dominion this close."
Chris tapped the coast. "This one. The shattered port has old Emberborn defenses buried in the cliffs. If we need to stand our ground anywhere…"
Maya nodded. "Then it's done. We move at dawn."
"But," Mira added, "they're not going to wait for dawn."
As if summoned by her words, a horn blast echoed from the far edge of camp.
One. Low. Bone-deep.
Everyone went still.
Seconds later, a second horn followed—closer. Urgent.
Chris grabbed his cloak, Mira already at his side. They ran toward the watchtower, lightning splitting the sky. Up top, Talith scanned the dark horizon through a copper spyglass, her jaw set tight.
"It's not a full army," she said. "But they're close. Five, maybe six Dominion scouts. Masked. Fast. One of them is burning blue."
Chris's heart froze. "The Seeker."
Talith nodded. "She's leading them."
Mira lit a small spark in her palm. "If she's here, she's here for him."
Chris didn't argue.
Maya arrived behind them, her eyes narrowing. "We can't afford a skirmish right now. We're not ready."
"We don't have a choice," Chris said. "If she finds me, she'll call the rest."
Maya's eyes flicked to the woods beyond the perimeter. "Then we buy time."
She turned to Talith. "Take your squad. Set traps. Herd them away from the eastern slope."
Then to Mira: "Keep him alive."
Chris scowled. "I'm not a damn package."
Maya winked. "No, but you're valuable cargo."
As the rebel camp prepared for the diversion, Chris and Mira moved deeper into the ruins to hide—following an ancient tunnel carved beneath Hollow Ember, once a ventilation channel for the temple above. Cold and narrow, it sloped downward into forgotten earth, lined with symbols so old even Mira couldn't read them.
They reached a circular chamber filled with statues of long-dead gods—cracked, blind-eyed, broken by time and rain.
Chris leaned against a pillar, breathing hard.
"She's coming for me," he said.
"Then we make sure she doesn't leave with you," Mira answered, lighting a small flame at her fingertips. The fire cast shadows across her face, golden and fierce.
But Chris shook his head. "No. I have to talk to her."
Mira froze. "Chris, you can't save her."
"She spared me once," he said. "There's something in her still."
"And if you're wrong?"
Chris looked at the shard, now affixed in a leather pouch on his belt. It pulsed gently, almost… warmly.
"I don't think I am."
Above them, thunder boomed.
Then—footsteps.
Soft. Purposeful.
Mira stepped in front of Chris, but he gently pulled her back.
From the tunnel's entrance, the Seeker emerged.
Her cloak was soaked. Her silver mask cracked further down the cheek. And in her hand, she held her obsidian blade low—not raised to strike.
She didn't speak.
Neither did Chris.
Then slowly, she removed her mask.
Mira gasped.
She was young. Even younger than Chris expected. Sixteen, maybe. Brown skin, fire-black hair braided with Dominion cords, eyes the color of stormlight—haunted and tired.
"My name…" she said softly, "…is Nadia."
Chris stepped forward. "Why are you here?"
"I don't know anymore," she whispered. "I was supposed to bring back the shard. I was supposed to kill you."
She looked at Mira, then down at the floor.
"But when I saw the temple burn… I remembered something. A face. A voice."
Chris stiffened. "Whose voice?"
Nadia looked up.
"Yours."
Silence.
Chris's heart pounded. He didn't understand. Couldn't.
"I don't remember everything," she said, tears mixing with rain. "But when I was younger… I think you were there. I think I knew you."
Mira looked at Chris. "What is she talking about?"
Chris whispered, "I… I don't know."
But a thread of memory pulled at him. Something old. Something buried.
Then—above them—an explosion rocked the chamber. Screams echoed down the tunnel. Dominion soldiers had breached the outer wall.
Nadia's head snapped toward the sound.
"They followed me," she whispered. "I told them I'd find you. But I didn't tell them where."
She looked at Chris. "You need to run."
He stepped forward. "Come with us."
Nadia hesitated.
Then she pressed the hilt of her blade into his hand.
"Run," she said. "I'll buy you time."
Before he could argue, she turned and ran back up the tunnel.
Chris stared after her, stunned.
Mira grabbed his arm. "We have to move."
Together, they escaped through a secret path beneath the ruined god-statues. But Chris couldn't stop thinking about Nadia—about the storm in her eyes, and the voice that sounded like a memory he didn't know he'd lost.
She had spared him again.
And now… she was part of the mystery too.