Ava
The morning came pale and brittle, the kind of light that made even the sea look tired. The waves rolled slow and heavy against the shore, black beneath the mist. I woke with the taste of salt in my mouth and the memory of Elijah's voice still lingering in my mind. Every time I blinked, I saw the faint shimmer of his eyes beneath the water.
When I went downstairs, Tata Sofia was already there. She sat behind the counter as though she had been waiting through the night, her shawl wrapped tight, her eyes fixed on the door. A cup of untouched tea sat before her, steam long gone cold.
"You dreamt again," she said softly.
I nodded. "The same as before."
"And the boy?"
"He sleeps. He does not remember."
Sofia sighed and rose slowly, her joints creaking like old wood. "Then it is time."
"For what?"
"For what your mother never lived to tell you," she said. "Walk with me."
---
The air outside was cold, thick with fog that clung to our skin. The road wound down toward the cliffs where the chapel stood, half swallowed by ivy and time. I had passed it hundreds of times before but had never gone inside. The villagers said it was cursed. Now, as we drew closer, I understood why. The air around it hummed faintly, the same vibration that lived in the mark beneath my skin.
Sofia's steps were slow but sure. She pushed open the chapel doors, and the sound echoed through the hollow space. Candles burned on the altar, though no one had lit them. Their flames were thin and silver, like starlight trapped in wax.
"The old chapel of the Morgans," Sofia said. "Before the Veil, before the separation, this was where your bloodline made their vows."
I ran my fingers along the cracked stone wall. Strange symbols were carved into it, circles and runes, some worn smooth, others still sharp. The same shapes I had seen glowing in my dreams.
Sofia stopped before the altar. Her voice dropped low, almost reverent. "You know the story as it was told. The witch who sealed the Veil to end the war between light and shadow. But that is not the truth. She did not seal it out of duty. She did it for love."
My heart stumbled. "Love?"
Sofia nodded. "Her name was Alara Morgan. She was the first Wielder. And the man she loved was the shadowborn prince - Elijah Varyn."
The name struck me like a blow. "What…?"
"Yes," Sofia said. "He was not a monster. Not then. They were bound by the same mark you carry now. Two halves of one whole. But when the realms began to bleed together, she chose to seal them apart. The spell demanded a sacrifice, the heart of the one born from shadow."
I stepped closer, my voice barely a whisper. "She killed him."
Sofia's eyes softened. "No. He offered himself. The Veil was born from his blood and her grief. But grief is a hunger, child. It does not die. It only waits. Every generation, the Veil calls for balance. Every time it finds a Morgan, it finds one of his blood too."
The realization struck deep. "You mean…"
"I mean that what binds you to Casimir is older than both of you," she said. "You are not the first to bear it. You may not be the last."
The mark on my chest pulsed, faint but steady. "The prophecy," I said. "What does it say?"
Sofia led me to the far wall where the carvings grew denser. She brushed away the moss with her hand, revealing a line of text carved deep into the stone. Her voice trembled as she read it aloud.
"When the heart of light binds with the shadow's heir, the Veil shall open or die. Love will call it forth, and love will break it."
The words echoed through the chapel. I felt them settle into my bones, heavy and cold.
Sofia turned to me. "You have already begun it. The moment you touched him, the prophecy moved."
I sank onto the nearest pew, my head spinning. "You mean this was always meant to happen?"
"Meant is a dangerous word," she said. "The gods have little interest in meaning. They only demand balance."
"And what if I refuse?"
She smiled sadly. "The Veil will not."
The door creaked open behind us. I knew the sound before I turned. Casimir filled the doorway, his coat damp with rain, his eyes bright with the same gold that haunted my dreams. The light from the candles bent toward him as if drawn by gravity itself.
"You should not be here," Sofia said without turning.
"I followed the bond," Casimir replied. "She called to me."
Sofia faced him fully now, her gaze sharp. "Then you are already too late."
He stepped closer, his voice steady. "Tell me what you know."
"You would not want to hear it."
"I would hear it from her lips or yours."
Sofia studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. You are his blood. The first heir who lived after the curse. You carry the same hunger, the same shadow. When love binds you to her, it will demand the same price it once did."
He met her gaze without flinching. "Then I will rewrite what bound us."
"Many have tried," she said softly. "None have succeeded."
Her words hung between us. The air seemed to thicken, the silver flames flickering wildly. I felt the mark beneath my skin burn hotter, the pulse turning sharp. A low hum rose from the floor, vibrating through the stone. The candles shuddered, and the light dimmed.
Casimir turned to me, eyes wide. "Ava."
The pain hit like fire. I gasped, falling to my knees. The mark blazed through the fabric of my dress, light spilling across the floor in trembling waves. Blood followed, silver at first, then red. My body shook with the force of it.
Sofia knelt beside me, her voice breaking. "The Veil tests its keeper. Every heartbeat you share feeds it. Choose which world you wish to save."
Casimir caught me before I fell completely, his hands covered in blood that glowed faintly against his skin. "I will not let it take you," he said, his voice raw. "Do you hear me? You will not die for this."
The world tilted. The chapel walls faded to shadow. I heard the sea again, distant but clear. And through it, Elijah's voice, soft and sorrowful.
"I warned you. Love was never mercy."
Then the light went out.
---
Casimir
I carried her back to the apothecary through the rain. Her blood stained my hands, bright and silver even in the dark. Nicholas met me at the door, his eyes wide. "What happened?"
"She is the prophecy," I said. "The Veil chose her."
Nicholas helped me lay her on the bed. Her skin glowed faintly beneath the blankets, the mark still pulsing in rhythm with mine. I pressed a hand to her heart, feeling the faint echo of life beneath it. "She is burning," I said quietly.
Nicholas looked at me, his voice low. "Then what does that make you?"
I did not answer at first. My gaze stayed on her face, pale and still, lips parted like a prayer half forgotten. I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, my chest tight with something I could not name.
Finally, I said, "The mistake fate keeps repeating."
The words felt too small for what they meant. Outside, thunder rolled over the sea, distant and hollow. The candles flickered once, then steadied.
The prophecy had been written in love, but it would be fulfilled in blood.