They left at dawn.
Mist clung to the earth like a warning. The jungle exhaled around them—dense, humid, and strangely silent. Behind them, the last fire in Skotos flickered out, and with it, the only home many had ever known.
Tavin turned once.
Ema'Tari stood at the edge of the tree line, her staff glowing faintly with violet energy.
"Let them follow you, Pōwehi. That is what they want. You are the darkness they fear."
"If they chase you, we can rebuild. Let them burn themselves against your shadow."
He didn't answer—just nodded.
The weight of expectation, loss, and something he couldn't yet name settled on his shoulders as they vanished into the trees.
They walked for hours under a thick canopy of moss and screeching birds. Every now and then, a branch snapped in the distance or something too large rustled above.
Kaelara walked beside Tavin. Closer than necessary. She hadn't buttoned her travel cloak properly. Whether it was heat or showmanship, Tavin couldn't tell.
"You really gonna keep ignoring me?" she asked, brushing her arm against his again.
"I'm not ignoring you."
"Oh, good. So you are pretending not to look."
He sighed.
Niah, a few paces behind, groaned audibly.
Sisters in the Night:
The fire crackled gently under the stars. Tavin asleep as he needed to keep watch lateron. Shadows danced across Kaelara's skin as she sat, polishing her blade. Niah sat opposite her, arms wrapped around her knees, a faint flicker of ghost flame in her palms.
Kaelara broke the silence.
"So. What does it feel like?"
Niah blinked. "What?"
"Resonance."
Niah looked away. "Like falling. But not down. Inward. And then… like you're not alone anymore."
Kaelara's face darkened. "You're not worried what it means? That we're bound to him?"
Niah's voice was sharp. "We're not bound. We're chosen. There's a difference."
Kaelara smirked faintly. "Sounds like something a girl with a glowing mark would say."
"Jealous?"
Kaelara leaned back, arms behind her head, her torso stretching beneath her open wrap. "Terrified," she said softly.
Niah glanced up.
Kaelara looked away.
"I felt it. Just before I killed the Tidebinder. The Gate reached for me. But it didn't take me."
"And now?"
Kaelara swallowed. "Now I think it's waiting. For me to stop being afraid of what it means."
Niah stood slowly and tossed a blanket toward her sister.
"Maybe start by keeping your damn shirt on around him."
Kaelara laughed, but didn't deny it.
Dream of the Third:
That night, the Gate opened again — not in the real world, but in Tavin's mind.
He stood in the heart of the obsidian pyramid. The air was heavy with prophecy. Violet flames flickered on either side of him. The same dream. But this time, she was there.
The girl.
She stood barefoot on black stone, wrapped in flowing white and gold robes. Her hair shimmered like starlight, but her face was hidden behind a veil of silk. Her arms were bound in silver, her presence luminous yet fragile.
Behind her loomed a faceless god made of glass and mirrored light, splintering and shifting like it was watching itself die.
"She remembers you," the Gate whispered."Even if she has never seen your face."
Tavin reached out.
She turned slightly.
"You are not the first."
Then the dream shattered.
Tavin woke to the sound of breathing — not his own. Low, steady, and far too close.
The jungle beyond their makeshift camp murmured with restless creatures, but near the flame, it was still. The fire had burned low, casting soft violet pulses across Kaelara's cheekbones.
She was crouched beside him, staring.
"You're awake," she said, kicking lightly at his feet. "Took you long enough. You snore like a beast."
Tavin blinked up at her, then groaned as he sat upright. His body still hadn't forgiven him for the trek through mud, over vines, and across moss-slick stone.
"You're on watch now," Kaelara said, rising and stretching in a single, fluid motion that revealed far more skin than necessary. "Or did you want me to keep you company?"
"No," he muttered. "I'll take it from here."
She smirked. "Suit yourself."
As she turned away, he noticed Niah watching from the shadows. Her expression was unreadable, but she said nothing.
Tavin dragged himself to the edge of the firelight and stared into the trees. Fireflies blinked in slow rhythm between branches. Distant creatures howled — not in hunger, but in memory.
He exhaled.
The stars above shimmered, scattered unevenly across a dark, cloudless sky. Somewhere back beyond the canopy was the Skotos village. He wondered if they'd ever see it again.
And then, the question returned — the one he couldn't outrun.
Why me?
Was it truly destiny if the first chosen — his grandfather — had ignored the call? Was he merely a substitute? A secondhand savior?
His fingers traced the mark on his forearm. It pulsed, dim and uncertain.
"You think too loud," Niah said behind him, her voice low.
Tavin flinched. "Didn't hear you coming."
"I wasn't trying to be quiet," she said, settling beside him. "You okay?"
"No."
A pause.
"I don't think I'm the one," he said. "Your Gate waited thirty years. And now it takes me because I happen to share a name?"
Niah was quiet for a long moment. Then she held out her hand. "Give me your arm."
He hesitated, then offered it.
She turned his forearm, letting the firelight bathe the violet sigils. "This is your name. Carved into the shrines of Skotos. Painted in mineral dye. Woven into our robes. We've seen it since we could read."
"Could've been someone else with the same name."
"Maybe. But the Gate chose now to open. And you were the one who stepped through."
Her fingers lingered. "That means something."
Tavin looked at her. "Do you believe in all this?"
"I have to," she said. "Otherwise, all of this—our suffering, our waiting—was pointless."
He nodded slowly. "And Kaelara?"
Niah exhaled through her nose. "She doesn't want to believe it. But she feels it. She's just afraid."