The Sky Gate did not feel like travel.
It felt like being unmade.
Light swallowed Miren whole—not blinding, not painful, but deep, layered with colors she had no names for. They flowed through her like living currents, threading between her thoughts, her bones, her breath. For one terrifying heartbeat, she could not feel her own body at all, as if she were nothing more than a memory drifting through someone else's dream.
Stay with me, Arkel whispered.
"I am," she breathed, clutching his presence like a hand in the dark.
Then the world snapped back into place.
Miren staggered forward, falling to her hands and knees as cold air tore into her lungs. Stone scraped her palms. The scent of wet earth, pine, and distant rain filled her senses so sharply it made her dizzy.
They were no longer in the High Ring.
They stood on a narrow platform carved into the side of a towering mountain. Above them, jagged peaks cut into a pale, dawn-streaked sky. Below, an endless forest spread like a dark ocean, mist curling between the trees like drifting spirits.
Seren looked around slowly, as though afraid the world might vanish again. "We made it."
Miren pushed herself upright, her heart still pounding. "Where are we?"
"The western provinces," Seren said. "Borderlands. No great cities. No strong imperial garrisons. If there's anywhere the High Ring's reach fades… it's here."
Lady Aveline stepped off the platform last. The moment her boots touched the stone, the glowing runes dimmed.
"That gate will not open again for a long time," she said quietly.
Miren turned to her. "So this is really goodbye."
"For now." Aveline took Miren's hand and pressed a small crystal into her palm. It was warm, faintly glowing. "If you are ever truly lost, break this. I will feel it."
Miren closed her fingers around it. "Thank you… for trusting me."
Aveline met her eyes. "I am trusting the girl you were brave enough to become."
Then she stepped back onto the platform.
Light flared.
And she was gone.
The mountain wind rushed in, cold and sharp.
Seren exhaled slowly. "Well. No turning back now."
Miren stared out at the endless forest. "It's… so big."
The world always is, Arkel murmured. Until you walk it.
They began down a narrow trail that wound through rock and pine toward the valley below. The air was crisp, alive with birdsong and rustling leaves. After the hushed crystal halls of the High Ring, the sounds felt overwhelming—and wonderful.
Miren felt lighter with every step.
Free.
For a while, they walked in silence, broken only by the crunch of gravel and the wind through the trees.
Then—
We are not alone, Arkel said, his tone suddenly sharp.
Miren stopped. A chill slid down her spine. "I feel it too."
Seren's hand went to his weapon. "Where?"
The forest had gone quiet. No birds. No insects. Even the wind seemed to have stilled.
A shape moved between the trees.
Then another.
Dark-cloaked figures stepped from the shadows, their robes marked with a sigil Miren did not recognize: a broken star.
Seren's breath went tight. "Cult of the Falling Sky. They worship star-relics. They think Arkel is a divine fragment."
One of them stepped forward—a tall woman with silver tattoos running down her face like tears.
"The Star-Bound Blade has awakened," she said calmly. "And it has chosen a vessel."
"I'm not a vessel," Miren said.
The woman smiled faintly. "All chosen ones say that."
Seren drew his weapon. "Back away."
"You cannot hide her," the woman replied. "The blade calls to those who listen."
They want to claim us, Arkel said darkly.
"I won't go with you," Miren said, even as her legs trembled.
"Then," the woman replied softly, "we will take you."
The air shifted.
Miren felt something awaken inside her—a deep, steady warmth, like a second heart. Light shimmered around her hands, faint but unmistakable.
Seren stared. "Miren…"
Let me show you, Arkel whispered.
The ground beneath her feet began to glow.
For the first time in her life, Miren did not feel small.
She felt like a beginning.
And the world, vast and uncaring, had finally taken notice.