Chizzy blinked, the world swimming as Liora stepped back. Her knees buckled for a moment, but Kiran caught her.
"What happened?" he asked.
"She took the memory," Chizzy whispered, a hollow ache blooming in her chest. "It's gone."
Liora's eyes, now glowing faintly silver, narrowed. "The path is open. We must go now, before the storm seals it."
Without another word, she turned toward the edge of the village, where mist crept in low, curling around the stones like fingers reaching for warmth. Chizzy followed, Kiran beside her, though the others dared not.
The Dreaming Vale was not a place people walked freely. It lay beyond the waking world, nestled in the folds of magic and memory. Few entered. Fewer returned.
As they stepped into the mist, the world shifted. Trees bent unnaturally, their leaves whispering in forgotten tongues. The sky above rippled like water, and colors changed with every step—amber, violet, deep green, then black.
Chizzy touched her chest. Her mark pulsed faintly, as though unsure in this strange plane.
Liora moved with purpose. "This place reflects what we bury. Be wary. It will show you truths, but also lies."
The deeper they went, the heavier the air became. Shadows moved even where there was no light. Then came the laughter—soft, childlike, echoing from nowhere and everywhere.
Chizzy spun around. "Did you hear that?"
Kiran nodded, his jaw tight. "Too close."
Suddenly, the mist parted, revealing a wide clearing. In its center stood a stone archway, cracked and ancient, glowing with runes in a language Chizzy couldn't read—but her blood could.
"That's it," Liora said. "The gateway to the truth."
Chizzy stepped toward it. As her hand brushed the cold stone, visions crashed into her—flashes of a council cloaked in black, binding a creature in chains of bone; her mother among them, her face grim with resolve; twin infants placed upon a seal—herself and Talia.
She stumbled back, gasping.
"They didn't just seal it," she said. "They made us the keys from birth. We're bound to it."
Kiran's face darkened. "Then breaking that bond could break the seal entirely."
Chizzy looked up. "Or it could set us free."
A screech tore through the Vale, sharp and guttural. The trees trembled. From the fog emerged a figure—tall, skin pale as marble, with eyes like obsidian pits. It hovered above the ground, mouth twisted in a grin.
"The Seer," Liora breathed. "It guards the truth."
Chizzy raised her blade. "Then let's take it."
The Seer lunged, faster than thought. Kiran deflected with his dagger, sparks flying. Chizzy rolled beneath it and slashed upward, her blade singing as it carved through shadow. The creature screamed, but did not bleed—it dissolved into mist, only to reform behind her.
"You are the door," it hissed. "And doors… open."
Before it could strike, Liora threw a pouch of ash into the air. The mist around them exploded in a burst of light, and the Seer shrieked, recoiling.
"Now!" she shouted.
Chizzy stepped through the archway.
The world spun.
And she fell—into light, into memory, into something far deeper than dreams.