The touch of the three hands—Elyria's, Rhaevan's, Lysarion's—did not create an explosion of light or sound. Instead, it created a silence so deep it seemed to contain every sound that had ever existed. For a moment that stretched beyond time, nothing moved in the cosmic space. Even Kaelith, now a colossus of intertwined darkness and starlight, froze in the midst of her fusion with the Heart.
Then, the cosmic child smiled.
"Finally," she whispered, and her voice was the song that had begun to be sung, now completed. "The three threads of destiny woven together once more."
From the joined hands of Elyria, Rhaevan, and Lysarion, a pattern began to spread—not of light or shadow, but of something that was both and neither at the same time. It seemed like fabric made from the very essence of reality, and as it spread, it began to envelop Kaelith and the Heart.
"What… what is this?" Kaelith's voice now came from everywhere at once, filled with confusion and a hint of fear. "Why does this hurt me and heal me at the same time?"
"Because it is the truth," the child replied, walking toward the tangled mass of darkness and light. "And the truth always does both, sister."
Elyria felt something flowing through her—not only her own power, but something from Rhaevan and Lysarion as well. She felt the ancient strength of guardian blood, the subtle skill of the weaver, and her own legacy as Nyxara's heir. Together, they were more than the sum of their parts.
Kaelith began to writhe, her gigantic form shrinking and transforming. "I don't want this! I want power! I want darkness!"
"Darkness without light is not power," Rhaevan said, his voice strangely gentle for a warrior. "It is only emptiness."
"Light without darkness is not wisdom," Lysarion added, his eyes following the patterns his own ability helped to weave. "It is only blindness."
Elyria looked at the cosmic child, who was now standing at the base of the transformed Heart. "What exactly are we doing?"
"Restoring balance," the child answered. "But to do so, someone must become the new Heart. Someone must sing the song forever."
Understanding struck Elyria like lightning. She looked at Kaelith, still struggling against the transformation, and understood. "She isn't trying to destroy the Heart. She's trying to take on a burden she cannot carry alone."
Kaelith stopped struggling, her form now reduced to something that vaguely resembled the woman she had been before becoming an entity. "How do you know?" she whispered, her voice now only in Elyria's mind.
"Because I feel the same," Elyria admitted. "The call to fix what is broken. The guilt of not having managed it before."
Sarynne, who had watched everything in silence, stepped forward, still leaning on Caelan. "The scriptures speak of a triple sacrifice. Blood, shadow, and soul. Three who become one to sustain the Veil."
The cosmic child nodded. "But the sacrifice does not have to be of life. It can be of purpose. Of identity."
Elyria looked at Rhaevan and Lysarion, their hands still joined with hers. "What does that mean for us?"
It was Kaelith who answered, her form now fully transformed into a woman of intertwined light and shadow. "It means that the three of us—you, me, and the child—must merge. Become the new Heart. The new point of balance."
The child walked to Kaelith and took her hand, then extended the other to Elyria. "Nyxara split into three when the Veil was woven. One part became the shadow that remembered power. Another became the light that remembered compassion. And the third…" She looked at her own small body. "The third became the memory that waited for the return."
Elyria felt the truth of the words resonating in every particle of her being. She had always known something was incomplete within her, something she sought without knowing what it was. Now she understood.
"If I do this," Elyria whispered, her eyes meeting those of Rhaevan and Lysarion. "What happens to… everything? To you? To the world out there?"
Rhaevan squeezed her hand. "The world will go on. And we will continue within it. But you…"
"You will become part of something greater," Lysarion finished, his voice carrying an emotion he rarely showed. "Something that will always be with us, but never completely."
The child gently pulled Elyria's and Kaelith's hands toward the Heart. "It's time. The Veil weakens. The realities are beginning to merge."
Elyria looked one last time at the men she loved in different ways, at the priestess who had become a friend, at the messenger who had revealed himself as an ally. In their eyes, she saw not sadness, but acceptance. And pride.
"You are not leaving us," Rhaevan said, as if reading her thoughts. "You are becoming what you were always meant to be."
"And we will be here," Lysarion added. "Weaving the reality you help sustain."
Elyria closed her eyes and let the child guide her. The touch upon the Heart was neither cold nor warm—it was like touching the very essence of existence. And as she, Kaelith, and the child began to merge with it, Elyria felt memories that were not her own flooding her consciousness.
She saw Nyxara singing the stars into existence. She saw the first weaving of the Veil. She saw the division into three parts. And finally, she saw what needed to happen now.
It was not death or sacrifice. It was transformation.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in cosmic space. Or rather, she was cosmic space. She could feel every star as a note in an infinite song, every planet as a verse in an eternal poem. And at the center of everything, she felt the Veil—not as a barrier, but as a breathing membrane between realities.
And through that Veil, she could feel the hearts of those she had left behind. Rhaevan, his strength now channeled into rebuilding what had been broken. Lysarion, his skill now used to repair the fabric of reality. Sarynne and Caelan, working together to heal the wounded.
And somewhere between realities, she felt her mother—not dead, but transformed into part of the Veil itself, weaving protection and balance with every breath.
The cosmic child laughed within her, a laugh that was the sound of stars being born. "See? It's not as lonely as you thought."
Kaelith added, her voice now soft as a night breeze. "And we will never be alone again. The three finally reunited."
Elyria realized they were right. She was no longer just Elyria Varnholt now. She was also the cosmic child and Kaelith. She was shadow and light and memory. She was the new Heart of Nyxara.
And as she began to sing the song of balance, she felt the universe around her respond. Stars that were about to die regained their brilliance. Realities that were beginning to unravel steadied themselves. And in the world she had left behind, people felt, even if unconsciously, a new harmony in the air.
She could still feel Rhaevan and Lysarion, their hearts beating in synchrony with the song she sang. She could still hear Sarynne praying, her prayers becoming part of the melody. She could still feel Caelan working, his determination strengthening the fabric of reality.
She had not lost them. She simply loved them in a new way. In a greater way.
And in the depths of her newly expanded consciousness, she felt something else. Someone else. An ancient and hungry presence watching from the other side of the Veil, waiting for a weakness.
The Unveiled Veil had not been the true danger. Only a precursor. A warning.
But that was a concern for another time. For now, there was a song to sing, a balance to maintain, and an entire universe to sustain.
And she, Elyria Varnholt, now also Nyxara Reborn, was ready for the task.
To be continued…