Sara, the frail young girl, still cradled her brother Evan tightly as she led the group through the frost-choked streets of Turf. Her small boots crunched over thick layers of ice, each step slow and deliberate. Evan whimpered faintly in her arms, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder, his breath fogging against her tattered scarf.
Behind them, the three Celestials moved in silence. Their coats woven with celestial thread hugged tightly around them, shielding them from the worst of the unnatural cold. Even so, the air here bit deeper than any storm they had faced, as if the city itself was trying to drag warmth from their bones. Quietly, they cast a protective veil of celestial energy over the two children, their magic subtle but effective like a blanket of invisible fire.
Sara pointed toward a narrow alley wedged between two collapsed buildings, her voice little more than a breath in the frigid air. "This way."
They followed, stepping carefully over frozen debris and jagged sheets of ice. Beyond the alley, at the end of a snow-slicked lane, stood a small house. It pulsed with a faint, golden glow, soft and steady, like the heartbeat of something still alive in a city long since frozen to death.
"That's it," she said, her voice trembling with hope. "Grandma Gretha's house."
EJ narrowed his eyes as he studied the warm light flickering behind frosted windows. "She really does have a flame," he murmured, half to himself. Something about it stirred a memory within him—a warmth not just felt, but remembered.
"A controlled flame," Maki added, not looking back. "In a city where nothing burns? That's no ordinary fire."
As they neared the house, the cold began to loosen its grip. The oppressive frost in the air gave way to a gentler warmth that wrapped around them like a breath of spring. It wasn't just heat, it was protection, woven carefully into every ember burning behind those walls.
Sara, her hands shaking, knocked weakly on the wooden door.
Several long seconds passed before the door creaked open.
An old woman stood in the threshold. Stooped with age, yet with a bearing that suggested strength still rooted deep within her bones. Her hair, white as snow, was pulled back into a thick braid. A robe of furs draped around her shoulders, and the firelight behind her painted her silhouette in amber hues. Her eyes sharp, deep, and knowing swept over the children first, then rose to meet the Celestials behind them.
For a brief moment, her gaze lingered on Maki. Something in her expression shifted, almost imperceptibly.
"Bring them in," she said, her voice low and commanding.
EJ nodded and gently guided Taki and Maki forward.
The moment they stepped over the threshold, the cold dissolved. It was like stepping into another world. The warmth of the hearth wrapped around them instantly. The air smelled of smoke, dried herbs, and faintly, something floral. Bundles of lavender and thyme hung from the ceiling beams. Shelves lined the walls, filled with clay jars and folded linens. Though modest, the house felt alive.
Gretha helped Sara settle Evan beside the fire, tucking thick woolen blankets around his small frame. Then, slowly, she turned to face the three Celestials.
Her eyes, dark as midnight water, moved over them one by one. Unblinking. Measuring.
"So," she said finally. "The Celestial Realm has finally sent its hounds to sniff at Turf's bones. Took you long enough."
EJ raised his brow at the word hounds, but kept his voice even. "We're here to investigate the source of the curse, and help, if we can." He paused, his brows pulling together. "But… how did you know we were Celestials?"
Gretha let out a laugh, soft and sardonic, as if she were too tired to be offended, too old to pretend otherwise.
"You wear your origin like you are proud of it," she said. "Anyone with eyes can see what you are."
Maki stepped forward, calm and composed, his silver eyes locking with hers. "You're the one maintaining the flame."
She tilted her head, as if appraising him anew. "Ah," she murmured. "So they sent you. Of course they did."
Taki looked between them, confused. "Wait—you two know each other?"
Neither answered.
Not exactly. But in the deeper parts of the Realms – Celestial, Shadower, or otherwise, names have a way of echoing long after the voices are gone. Maki had heard of Gretha. And now he understood why the flame had felt… wrong. Not because it was dangerous, but because it wasn't from the Celestial Realm at all.
It was a shadow flame.
Maki's eyes narrowed slightly. Controlled, yes. But undeniably underworld in origin.
Gretha turned her back on them, adjusting the logs in the hearth. Sparks danced upward, casting shadows across the ceiling.
"You boys chose a cursed time to wander into Turf," she said. "What lingers here, what chokes the sky and freezes the earth, you can't fight it with light or blades alone."
EJ took a cautious step closer. The feeling that had been tugging at the edge of his mind now bloomed into understanding.
He exhaled, voice quiet but firm. "You're a Shadower."
Gretha didn't flinch. "And what of it?"
"But… why?" EJ's voice tightened. "You're protecting this city. Using an underworld flame. Why would a Shadower—?"
She turned then, slowly, and the firelight caught the edges of her weathered face. "You still believe darkness and evil are the same thing," she said. "You see shadows and assume they bite. Your view is too narrow, young Legacy."
The three of them stood silent.
"You don't even know what you're fighting," she said.
"Then tell us," Maki replied, his voice a shade colder than before, but his posture still calm. "We're here to learn. Not to judge."
A long silence followed. Only the fire spoke, crackling gently, as if listening too.
Then, without turning back to face them, Gretha spoke a single word.
"Onyx."
The word struck like iron dropped into still water. The air shifted.
Taki's brows drew together in alarm. He turned instinctively to EJ, whose face had paled slightly. His hands tightened at his sides.
Onyx.
The word had haunted his dreams since the day of the crystal. Since that moment when light cracked, and something colder than death looked back at him through the void.
Now that name had surfaced again. Not in rumor. Not in whisper.
But in the mouth of a Shadower.
"This must be something far more serious than we thought," EJ murmured, his voice low with unease.
Maki nodded grimly. "The Onyx… it's one of the ancient Pillars of the Realms. It doesn't have a form, and no one truly understands how it exists. But it's essential, it keeps the balance between worlds."
"A pillar?" Taki echoed. "How do you even fight something like that? Something you can't see?"
Gretha folded her arms, her eyes dark and steady. "The Onyx is seen everywhere. I was powered by it. Every dark surge, every shadow-born ability in the Underworld… it all stems from the Onyx. You're right that it doesn't have a form, but that's about to change."
Taki tilted his head. "So… how do we fight it if it doesn't even have a body?"
Gretha's lips tightened. "Someone is trying to give it one. They're stirring the Onyx, waking it. And if it takes form…" She paused, her voice almost faltering. "It will begin to consume."
A heavy silence fell, thick as snowfall.
The fire in Gretha's hearth crackled, its glow dimming as if recoiling from the truth.
Maki stepped forward, fists clenched. "Consume what?"
"Life," Gretha said simply. "From everything. Every realm. The Onyx isn't bound by walls, time, or even death. If awakened, it will draw from the Celestial, the Mortal, the Underworld… even the Forgotten Lands. It doesn't discriminate. It devours."
EJ's brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on her. "Who would dare awaken something like that? Something the ancient feared to even speak of?"
Gretha met his gaze without flinching. "Someone desperate enough to seek control over death. Or foolish enough to believe they can bargain with it."
Taki's voice was small. "But… if the Onyx is part of the balance, wouldn't reshaping it endanger everything?"
"Yes," Gretha said softly. "If the Onyx takes form, it becomes hunger, pure, unrelenting hunger. And hunger doesn't stop."
A fierce gust howled through the cracks of the old cottage. The windows rattled. A child whimpered in a back room.
EJ inhaled, slow and measured. "Then this isn't just about us surviving. It's about stopping the collapse of every realm."
Gretha gave a solemn nod. "And you three… you've already been marked. The Onyx stirs where you walk. It follows your shadows."
Maki glanced at EJ and Taki. "Then we don't wait. We go to the source. We find whoever's trying to wake it."
"And we stop them," EJ said with firm conviction.
But Gretha shook her head, her expression as unyielding as stone. "Celestials alone cannot stop the Onyx – just as you cannot save this cursed city on your own."
The three Celestials exchanged glances, the weight of her words settling like dust in the still air.
Maki's brows furrowed. "Are you suggesting we work with you?"
"If that's the case," EJ added, "we'll find a way. You're already helping, Gretha. As long as the shadow flame still burns, we have time to figure this out."
Gretha gave a bitter laugh. "Time?" she echoed. "I am of age, Celestial. Lighting that flame drains more of me than I care to admit. It takes nearly everything I have to keep the city protected through the night. That flame is not eternal, and neither am I."
Taki stepped forward, concern etched across his face. "Then what should we do? You're the only Shadower left in this city."
Maki's eyes flicked toward her, uncertain. "Are you seriously asking us to work with a Shadower?"
"There's no point debating it," EJ cut in, his tone measured but sharp. "You're smart enough, General Maki, to realize that our celestial powers are useless here. The balance has shifted." He paused, almost grimacing.
'And yes, I know, I was the first to oppose working with one. A lot can change in a month.' EJ thought.
Gretha raised her head. "No need to worry," she said. "Others are coming. Shadowers. They are moving fast."
A sudden gust of wind brushed through the cracked window, snuffing out one of the smaller candles on the shelf. In its absence, the flicker of the shadow flame glowed all the more ominous.
'Is that you, Nicholas?' EJ's gaze lingered at the window, his reflection barely visible against the faint glow of the shadow flame. 'Why am I hoping for you to come? The thought clung to him like a whisper from the past. I don't need saving… and yet' he exhaled. 'A part of me wants you here… and another part hopes you never show up.'
Outside, the wind howled like a warning, dragging leaves and ash across the cobbled streets. The city groaned under the weight of its own silence.
He turned away, as if the act of looking made him vulnerable. As if Nicholas would materialize at that exact moment, and he wouldn't know what to say.