The knock echoed again. Not loud, but deliberate. Too calm to be harmless.
Emberlynn gripped the edge of the table, her breath trembling. The Oracle's hand still rested lightly on her chest, anchoring her to the floor. The air in the hut had turned to glass—sharp, waiting to shatter.
"Do not speak his name again," the Oracle said softly. "Names carry weight. Especially his."
"But… he already knows I'm here," Emberlynn whispered.
"Yes. But knowing and entering are not the same." The Oracle's blind eyes turned toward the door. "The wards are weak, but they hold. For now."
Outside, the wind stilled. Even the trees had gone silent.
Malphas' voice came again, a shade closer. "Emberlynn, I know you're frightened. I understand. But I would never harm you. I just need to talk."
The Oracle pulled a string of bones from the ceiling and snapped them between her fingers. A low hum vibrated through the floor.
"He's pressing against the threshold. Testing you. Testing me."
"Why?" Emberlynn asked. "Why not just break in if he's that powerful?"
"Because that would defeat his purpose." The Oracle lowered herself into a chair made of antlers and sinew. "He doesn't want your body, child. Not yet. He wants your will. Your trust. That is the truest invitation."
Emberlynn looked toward the door, teeth sinking into her lower lip. Part of her wanted to open it. To see his face again. Not because she trusted him—because she needed to understand why he haunted her thoughts.
A flicker of warmth pulsed in her shoulder.
"He's connected to the mark, isn't he?"
"Yes," the Oracle said. "And through the mark, to the Key."
"What is the Key, really?"
The Oracle leaned forward. "Not a thing. A force. A convergence of fate and fire. The Paragon Key is not forged—it is born. It is… you."
The words settled like lead in Emberlynn's chest.
"But I'm no one."
"You were. But the moment the mark appeared, that changed. You were chosen by the seal. And he was chosen by the darkness."
Outside, silence stretched too long.
Then a new sound: laughter.
Soft. Mocking. Malphas again.
"You think hiding will protect her?" he called out, not angry—almost amused. "The Oracle is wise, Emberlynn. But she cannot stop what's already begun."
A gust of wind struck the door. Not a natural one. It carried ash and something darker—like scorched roses and dying stars.
Emberlynn's legs moved on their own. She stepped toward the door.
"Don't!" the Oracle snapped. "You open that door, you give him your name. Your will. Your blood."
Emberlynn froze inches away. Her fingers brushed the wood.
"I just… I want answers."
"You'll find none from him. Only hunger disguised as truth."
A whisper slithered into her mind.
You're not afraid of me. Not really.
She gasped, spinning back. "He's in my head."
The Oracle was already weaving her fingers through the air, drawing a glowing sigil with smoke and breath. "He's using the mark. He's stronger than I thought."
The wind outside howled—this time, truly angry.
"You're not ready," the Oracle muttered. "But you will be."
A knock, harder now. The door cracked slightly.
"He's breaking the rules," Emberlynn said, heart racing.
"No. You're bending them."
"What?"
The Oracle turned sharply toward her. "Part of you wants to let him in. Even if you don't know why."
And Emberlynn couldn't deny it. There was a pull. A heat beneath the fear. She had felt it the first time she looked into his eyes.
The Oracle sighed. "Very well. If you truly want answers—real ones—then you must go beyond this place."
"Where?"
"There's a ruin in the Hollow Vale. Forgotten by most. That's where the Key was last forged, centuries ago. If you seek truth, it lies there."
Emberlynn nodded slowly. "Will he follow me?"
"He already is. But he won't act… not unless you give him reason."
The Oracle reached for something beneath her table and produced a small vial. Inside, it swirled with silver liquid.
"Drink this when you reach the ruins. It will show you memories that are not yours, but are yours to bear."
Emberlynn took it, fingers curling around the cool glass. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because I once loved a demon," the Oracle whispered, pain flickering across her blind face. "And I know what it cost."
Another knock. The last one.
The Oracle stood. "You must leave now. Through the back. The path will shift if you walk without fear."
"But—"
"Go. And remember: he cannot have you unless you offer yourself."
Emberlynn hesitated, then turned and fled through the back door. The wind nearly knocked her down, but she ran through it, cloak billowing.
Behind her, the door splintered.
Malphas' voice followed on the wind.
"You'll see me again, Emberlynn. The question is… will you still run?"