Ava
The bells of Havenscove were still ringing when I woke Oliver. The sound rolled through the mist, soft but heavy, like a heartbeat counting down to something we could not stop. Outside, the sea lay still as glass. The sky was pale, painted with the silver light of dawn, and the scent of salt clung to everything.
Casimir waited at the edge of the road, his cloak dark against the fading stars. Nicholas stood beside him, reins in hand, speaking low. They both looked toward the horizon, where the Veil shimmered faintly, pulsing like something alive.
Oliver rubbed his eyes, his voice small but steady. "We are leaving, aren't we?"
I nodded. "We have to."
He hesitated, glancing toward the fog where the sea vanished. "If you go where the darkness lives, I have to come too. It knows me."
My heart clenched. He was too young to worry about things like this, but fate had other plans, I didn't know what to. As I said his name, "Oliver... "
He looked up at me with those clear, fearless eyes. "It whispers my name when I sleep. If I stay, it will come here."
Casimir turned, his voice edged with quiet command. "The crossing is not meant for a child."
"He is my child," I said, sharper than I meant to. "If the Veil calls for me, it calls for him."
Nicholas met Casimir's gaze. "He is right about one thing. The Veil knows his name. Leaving him will not stop what's coming."
Casimir exhaled, jaw tight, and reluctantly nodded. "Then we all go."
We followed the narrow path to the cliffs, the fog thick enough to swallow sound. The air grew colder with every step. When we reached the edge, the wind stilled. Even the waves below seemed to hold their breath.
Casimir began the ritual. He drew a circle in the air with fire and shadow, each motion leaving trails of light that hung before fading into nothing. Nicholas spoke in the old tongue, the syllables low and rough.
I held Oliver's hand and felt the faint vibration of the Veil answering. His palm glowed softly beneath my fingers, and threads of gold rose from my skin to meet it.
The air split open.
There was no sound, no light, only pressure, like the world itself had forgotten how to breathe. The Veil opened before us, a wound of colorless radiance, pulsing with life. It called to us, each by name: Avaryn Morgan. Casimir Levi Kingston. Oliver Wilson. Nickolas Thorne.
The third name lingered longest.
"Now," Casimir said. His voice trembled, not from fear but from strain. "Hold on to him."
I stepped forward first, pulling Oliver close. The moment we crossed the threshold, the air turned to glass. My body felt both weightless and crushed. The sound of my heartbeat filled the void. Then memories came, flashes of every moment I had ever tried to forget. My mother's cold hands. The smell of rosemary and death. The night Casimir first looked at me as if he had known me forever.
Oliver cried out. Light flared along his arms, silver and wild. His veins glowed like rivers. I tried to reach him, but the current pulled harder. Casimir caught us both, his magic igniting. Gold fire burst across the darkness, wrapping around us. I felt the heat of it burn through my skin, yet it did not hurt. He bore the weight of the crossing, taking its pain into himself.
Nicholas's voice echoed faintly from somewhere behind. "The gate, close the gate before it swallows the shore!"
The air convulsed, the last sound of Havenscove fading. Then everything went silent.
When I opened my eyes, the world was neither day nor night. The sky shimmered gray, veins of silver threading through the clouds. The ground beneath us glowed faintly, like the embers of dying stars. I was on my knees, holding Oliver against my chest. He was breathing, his face pale, but his skin still shimmered with faint light.
Casimir knelt nearby, his chest rising fast, sweat beading along his brow. His eyes were bright, too bright, as if reflecting a sun that no longer existed. "You crossed carrying life," he said, voice low, awed. "No one has done that since the First Wielder."
I looked down at Oliver's hand. The silver glow had faded, but his pulse beat steady. "He is just a boy."
"No," Casimir said softly. "He is something the Veil remembered."
Nicholas straightened, scanning the horizon. "Welcome to the Shadow Realm," he said. "Welcome home, my prince."
I looked out across the landscape. The world stretched endless, black trees rising like spires, rivers that shone like molten light, mountains shaped from shadow. It was beautiful and terrible all at once. "Then home is dying," I murmured.
Casimir stood, his gaze sweeping the horizon. "Not yet," he said. "Not while we still draw breath."
A wind stirred, carrying the faint cry of wolves through the stillness. Somewhere beyond the hills, the dying sun bled silver through the mist. The air tasted of storms and ashes, and the ground pulsed faintly beneath our feet, as if the realm itself had a heartbeat.
----
Casimir
They walked ahead of me, Ava, carrying the boy close, Nicholas following like a shadow. I could see the faint outline of their bond glimmering in the dim light, threads of gold and silver tangled like veins. The Veil had claimed them already.
Fear coiled low in my chest, heavier than any blade. Not for the realm. Not even for my father. But for her, and for the child who now carried light through the dark. The Veil never gives without taking.
I looked to the horizon where the towers of Eldryn rose through the haze. The air around them shimmered with old power, heavy as grief. I whispered to the wind, "If the Veil has claimed them, then what am I now? Guardian or ruin?"
The wolves answered, their howls rising through the valley, and the last light of day faded into gray.