The silence that followed Aelinor's sacrifice was unlike anything Elyria had ever experienced. It wasn't the absence of sound, but the presence of something greater—as if the universe itself was holding its breath. The cosmic child still held her hand, and through that touch, Elyria could feel the reverberations of her mother's choice echoing through the realities.
"She has become part of the Veil," the child whispered, the star-brightness in her eyes reflecting an ancient sadness. "Now she weaves and protects, as was always her secret destiny."
Rhaevan approached slowly, his sword still drawn, but his expression was one of pain, not alertness. "Elyria, we need to decide what to do. This place… it consumes us."
He was right. Elyria could feel the energy of the cosmic space draining her vital strength. Even the stellar prison containing the being that had once been Valthor seemed to be weakening, its lights flickering irregularly.
Lysarion held his hands extended, sweating even though the space around them was cold as the vacuum. "I cannot maintain this weaving for much longer. The Veil demands a price that almost no weaver can pay twice."
It was then that Kaelith spoke again in Elyria's mind, but his voice was strangely clear and urgent. "The child has the answer, Elyria. She always has. Ask her about the Song of the Stars."
Elyria looked at the small cosmic figure. "The Song of the Stars? What is it?"
The child smiled, and for the first time, there was genuine hope in her galaxy-filled eyes. "The melody Nyxara sang before the darkness came. The music that kept the balance."
She released Elyria's hand and walked toward the pulsing Heart. With each step, tiny constellations were born beneath her feet. "The Heart is not a weapon or a source of power. It is an instrument. Once, it sang the song of equilibrium."
The being that had been Valthor laughed within its prison, a sound that distorted the stars around it. "Nonsense! The Heart is pure power! The last relic of the era before the Veil!"
The child ignored him, placing her small hands on the surface of the Heart. "It forgot the melody. Long ago. But I remember."
Sarynne, still leaning on Caelan, extended a trembling hand. "The scriptures… they mentioned a song. They said Nyxara sang the world into existence, but forgot the last note."
The child turned to them, and now her features were simultaneously young and incredibly ancient. "She didn't forget. She was silenced. By those who feared the power of creation."
Lysarion staggered, and the stellar prison wavered dangerously. "I… can't… any longer…"
It was then that Rhaevan did something that surprised everyone. He approached Lysarion and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Use my strength. Duskryn blood was made to sustain guardians."
A silver light flowed from Rhaevan into Lysarion, strengthening the stellar weaving. The two men looked at each other, and in their eyes was an understanding that transcended their past differences.
The cosmic child began to sing.
It wasn't a song with words any of them could understand, but a melody that spoke directly to the soul. Each note was a color they had never seen, each chord an emotion they had never felt. And as she sang, the Heart began to change.
The darkness covering its surface began to dissipate, revealing something underneath—not an organ, but an intricate web of interwoven light and shadow, pulsing in harmony with the music.
"This is what I forgot," Kaelith whispered, and now there were tears in his voice. "This is what we all forgot."
The being that had been Valthor screamed within his prison—not in anger, but in agony. "Stop! This light… it hurts!"
"Light always hurts when you are used to the darkness," the child said, without stopping her song.
Elyria felt something within her respond to the melody. She walked toward the Heart, her own shadows dancing to the rhythm of the cosmic song. "What do we need to do?"
The child extended her hand to her. "Sing with us. All three parts must unite—the shadow, the light, and the veil."
Rhaevan and Lysarion exchanged glances, then nodded in unison. "We will sustain her," Rhaevan promised.
"And I will weave the melody into reality," Lysarion added.
But when Elyria touched the Heart, something unexpected happened. Kaelith emerged—not as a voice in her mind, but as a figure of pure shadow that materialized at her side.
"Finally," Kaelith said, her form shifting between that of a woman and that of a constellation. "I can finish what I began."
The cosmic child stopped singing, her face showing alarm. "Sister? What are you doing?"
Kaelith smiled, and it was a sad expression. "What should have always been done. The Heart must not be reactivated—it must be destroyed."
She moved faster than anyone could react, her shadowed hands plunging into the Heart. But instead of destroying it, she began merging with it.
"She's trying to become the Heart!" Sarynne shouted. "She wants to replace Nyxara!"
The cosmic child cried, and her tears became meteors falling into the void. "Sister, no! You won't withstand the burden!"
Kaelith laughed, a sound now made of stars extinguishing. "I am no longer the weak entity you once knew. I have fed on shadows and fear for centuries. I am strong enough now."
Elyria felt the connection between her and Kaelith stretching, about to snap. And with it, a part of her own soul. "Kaelith, stop! You'll destroy us all!"
"Destroy?" Kaelith echoed, her form now almost fully fused with the Heart. "No, dear. I will recreate. A world where darkness finally reigns."
The space around them began to unravel. The stars went out one by one, and the darkness that replaced them was unlike anything Elyria had ever known—it was empty, hungry, endless.
Rhaevan and Lysarion struggled to maintain the weaving, but they were quickly losing ground. The stellar prison around the being that was Valthor collapsed, and he laughed as his form dissipated into the growing darkness.
"Foolish children," his final words echoed. "You merely traded one master for another…"
The cosmic child ran to Elyria, her small body trembling. "She doesn't understand! Without the Heart singing, the Veil will collapse entirely!"
Elyria looked at the child, then at the two men still fighting to sustain her, and finally at Kaelith—now a colossal figure of darkness fused with the Heart.
She understood what needed to be done.
"Nyxara's blood," she whispered, touching her own chest. "The guardian's blood," she said, looking at Rhaevan. "And the Veil-weaver," she finished, looking at Lysarion.
The three necessary elements weren't in keys or artifacts. They were within themselves.
Elyria extended her hands to Rhaevan and Lysarion. "Together," she said. "As it was destined."
And when their hands met, something new was born in the universe.
To be continued...