Branches tore at her skin as she ran, but Aelira didn't stop.
The forest twisted around her—darker, older, more alive than before. The trees didn't stand still; they leaned in as if listening. Their bark gleamed with forgotten runes. The roots rose slightly above the ground like veins, pulsing softly under her feet. This wasn't the forest she'd known. It was the forest from her visions.
And it was awake.
Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled into a clearing that shimmered faintly, like a memory struggling to hold shape. The wind hushed. The stars above seemed to dim.
Here, the air remembered her.
Aelira sank to her knees, her palms pressing into the earth as the mark beneath her skin throbbed in time with her heartbeat.
"Saelwyn," a voice whispered—not aloud, but inside her.
She gasped.
A flicker of flame appeared before her—hovering in the air. Then another. And another. Will-o'-the-wisps spiraled around her, weaving a soft golden dance that lit the clearing.
The voice came again, this time clearer. Feminine. Ageless.
"You have returned, Daughter of the Flame."
Aelira's head snapped up. "Who's there?"
From the shadows, a woman stepped forth.
Tall, cloaked in smoke and moonlight, with eyes that blazed like coals in the dark.
She was not fully real—her body wavered like flame—but her presence rooted deep, heavy, undeniable.
"I am what remains," the woman said. "Of the circle. Of the oath. Of us."
Aelira rose slowly, blood pounding in her ears. "What do you mean… us?"
The woman tilted her head. "You were not meant to forget, Saelwyn. You were not meant to return through pain. But the circle was broken. You were betrayed. And he—" her voice darkened, "—he shattered the seal to save you, only to curse you anew."
Aelira's lips parted. "Kaeln?"
The spirit nodded. "He loved you once. Deeply. Too deeply. Enough to destroy everything. Enough to sentence you both to lives of silence."
Aelira stumbled back. "No. This is a dream. A hallucination."
"You think your body lies?" the spirit said, stepping closer. "You think that mark upon your flesh is a lie? You are not Aelira. You are the last fireborn of the Eldercircle, bound to flame, cursed by love."
The mark on her shoulder flared, pain singing through her veins like molten light.
Flashes slammed into her skull—
A firelit ritual.
Kaeln weeping.
A circle of witches screaming her name.
The burning.
The sacrifice.
Aelira screamed as the memories surged forward—
Her execution.
Her rebirth.
She collapsed, convulsing on the forest floor.
---
Elsewhere...
Kaeln stood at the edge of the wardline, unable to cross it. The ancient protection he'd laid long ago—meant to keep her safe—now caged him away.
"I warned you," came a voice behind him.
He didn't turn. "She wasn't supposed to remember yet."
The figure stepped beside him—a man wrapped in gray robes, face hidden behind a silver mask.
"And yet she has. The flame stirs. The mark has awakened. You cannot keep hiding from what you did."
Kaeln's fists clenched. "I never wanted this."
"No," the masked man said. "But fate isn't swayed by want. She is rising, Kaeln. And when she remembers everything…"
The mask turned toward the forest.
"Will she forgive you?"
Kaeln didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
---
Back in the clearing
Aelira awoke to the scent of smoke and the warm press of embers beneath her skin.
She was alone.
The spirit was gone.
But her body… it remembered now.
The mark still burned.
And for the first time, she didn't feel afraid of it.
She touched her shoulder, breathing heavily, eyes staring into the dark trees.
"I'm not her," she whispered.
"But I was."
The wind stirred, as if in approval.
She stood—slowly, purposefully. Her legs still shook, but her spine was straighter. The fear was fading, replaced by something deeper. Older.
The forest bent in acknowledgment as she walked forward—not running this time.
She wasn't ready to face Kaeln yet.
But she would.
She would find the others. The pieces. The truth.
And when she was ready—
He would answer for what he did.