The road north was swallowed by mist.
It wasn't natural fog — Elira could feel it. This mist had weight to it. A presence. It didn't cling to the skin, it watched. She pulled her cloak tighter around Tovin's shoulders as they walked through the silence.
They hadn't seen another soul in two days.
No travelers. No birds. Even the trees grew quieter.
At night, Tovin slept curled close to the fire, always facing her. Elira found herself waking more often now, dreams tangled in a voice she almost recognized. Not her mother's. Not Caelum's. Older. Colder.
Each time she woke, the pendant lay warm against her chest, as if guarding her from something only half-formed.
On the third morning, they reached a fork in the path — one road led toward the distant mountains, another dipped into an overgrown valley shrouded in unnatural stillness.
Tovin pointed toward the valley.
Elira frowned. "Why that way?"
He hesitated. "I don't know. I just feel it."
She studied him. He wasn't lying.
But he also wasn't choosing.
Something was choosing through him.
She tightened her grip on her dagger, nodded once, and followed.
*
The valley led to ruins, older than the chapel — moss-covered stones swallowed by roots, runes etched in a dialect even Elira's training couldn't decipher.
This wasn't a place of witches.
It was older than witchcraft.
They made camp at the edge of a broken wall. Tovin wandered among the stones, tracing symbols with his fingers, humming something tuneless.
Elira didn't interrupt.
She knelt near a half-buried arch and brushed snow away with gloved hands.
Beneath the moss was a mark.
A sigil.
The same one from her pendant.
She jerked her hand back.
It pulsed faintly, then went still.
Her breath clouded in the cold air, but the stone beneath her palm was warm.
A memory tugged at her — a blurred image of a hooded woman in a cavern, whispering words Elira couldn't hear.
She blinked it away.
Not a memory. A warning.
"Tovin," she called.
He looked up from the stones.
"Do you recognize any of this?"
He nodded. "I think I've dreamed it."
She approached, heart steady but unsettled. "You've been here before?"
"No," he said slowly. "But it feels like something was waiting here. For us."
Elira's mouth went dry.
Before she could speak, the wind shifted.
And Caelum stepped out from the tree line.
*
She moved instantly, standing between him and Tovin, magic rising in her chest.
"You're following us now?"
"I was here first," he said calmly.
"How convenient."
He looked at the ruin, ignoring the tension in her voice. "You're walking in circles."
Elira didn't lower her guard. "We're finding answers."
hi are you here?"
Caelum's gaze shifted briefly to Tovin — unreadable, but sharper than usual. "The boy isn't lost. He's placed."
"I know."
He arched a brow, but she didn't elaborate.
"Then you also know this ruin wasn't meant for mortals. Not even witches."
"What was it built for?"
Caelum looked at her. "For remembering."
Elira waited for more, but of course, he offered nothing else.
*
She stepped toward him, voice low. "You knew about this valley. The sigil."
"I know many sigils."
"And yet you always seem to appear when I find this one."
A long pause.
"You're not asking the right questions," he said again.
"No," she snapped. "You're just not giving real answers."
He didn't move. Didn't argue.
Elira wanted to strike him — or scream. But instead, she asked, "Was this place part of the prophecy?"
Caelum's silence was answer enough.
She turned away, frustrated. "I'll find out without you."
But as she walked past him, Caelum murmured, "You'll remember. When the veil lifts. When what was locked in you comes undone."
Elira froze. "What veil?"
He only looked at her.
Then he vanished again, like mist scattering on wind.
*
That night, Tovin spoke softly as they sat by the fire.
"Elira?"
"Hm?"
"Who is he?"
She hesitated. "A question I haven't answered in years."
Tovin stared into the flames. "He looked at me like he knew me."
Elira didn't respond.
Because he had.
And not for the first time, Elira wondered whether she had known Tovin long before that chapel.
Whether fate wasn't just pulling strings…
…but binding bloodlines.