Niah had no clue how she ended up in the chapel's side hall. One second, she was standing in front of Zaire, and the next, she was sitting across from Father Delran and Dr Thorne. Morning sunlight spilled through the stained-glass windows, painting the room in wild, broken colors.
Zaire leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his expression impossible to read.
"I don't know why I'm here," Niah said, her voice soft but edged with nerves.
Father Delran's reply was gentle but didn't leave room for argument. "You do. You just haven't let yourself remember yet."
Dr Thorne slid a piece of parchment across the table. On it was a crescent-shaped symbol, tangled in vines. Niah's breath caught in her throat.
"I've seen this before," she whispered.
Zaire's voice came from behind her. "Of course you have."
Dr Thorne nodded. "It's a binding mark. It belongs to the House of Elarien."
Niah looked up, confused. "What's that?"
"It's where you come from," Father Delran said, his tone soft. "Of course, not by blood, but by the essence. The Elarien were guardians of balance between the veils and between the realms."
"Guardians?" Niah blinked, trying to process what she was hearing.
Zaire stepped forward, his gaze steady. "You've always felt out of place, haven't you? Like something was missing, but you couldn't put your finger on it."
She nodded, almost against her will.
Dr Thorne picked up the thread. "That's because a part of you has been asleep for your own safety. There are people who would've hunted you before you even knew who you were."
"But who am I?" Niah's voice was barely a whisper.
The silence that followed felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath.
Finally, Father Delran spoke. "You are Esme. That name isn't just a memory, it's a legacy. It comes with lots of responsibility and power."
"But I'm Niah," she protested, her voice small.
Dr Thorne nodded. "You are. And that's not wrong. But Esme is still there, deep inside you. She wasn't erased but just hidden."
Niah's breath hitched. "Why?"
Zaire finally moved closer, his eyes serious. "Because Esme could change everything. And there are people who'd burn the world to stop that."
The parchment pulsed under her fingertips, warmth crawling up her wrist. The symbol wasn't just ink, it felt more alive and familiar.
"You're not telling me everything," she said, her gaze darting between them.
Dr Thorne shook her head. "No. But you'll know what you need to and when you need to."
"Don't worry, you're not alone," Father Delran said, his voice steady.
Zaire's tone was low but unbreakable. "And I'll make sure of that."
Niah looked down at the symbol, then at the three of them. Something inside her was shifting like a gentle crack, letting in a sliver of light she hadn't known was missing.
The moment her eyes locked on the mark, her chest tightened. Her fingers moved on their own, reaching for the parchment. The instant her skin touched it, everything shattered.
Her breath caught. Her pulse thundered in her ears. The table vanished in a burst of white light, and suddenly the world tipped into a vision.
There was a woman, her, standing beneath a bleeding moon. Her arms outstretched, magic coiled from her palms like molten starlight.
A circle of voices, chanting. She didn't know the words, but her soul did.
"Esme, Light bound. Keeper of Veil and Flame."
Then another flash—
She was falling, no, being pulled, through spirals of time. A hand reaching for her. A face blurred in firelight. Whispers in a language too ancient to exist, yet she understood every word.
Then, darkness.
Niah gasped, nearly toppling the chair. The parchment had fallen to the floor. Zaire was already at her side, steadying her.
"I—what—what was that?" she managed to say, her voice trembling.
Dr Thorne's eyes were sharper now, studying her. "It was a glimpse of you," she said. "Your essence responded to the sigil."
"You said it belonged to the House of Elarien," Niah said, her breath shaky. "Was I—am I—part of it?"
Zaire spoke quietly. "You are it." The room fell still.
Father Delran rested his hand on the table. "Your awakening has begun. That vision was no accident. That's who you were, and who you will become again."
"But I don't know how to be her," Niah whispered.
"You don't have to," Dr Thorne said. "Not yet at least. All you need now is to listen."
Zaire tilted his head. "The pieces are coming together. You'll remember when you're ready."
She looked down at her hand. It still tingled from the magic, as if her blood had been threaded with light.
"I felt like I was in it," she murmured.
"You were," Father Delran said. "Not as a memory or a dream but as a tether."
"A tether to what?" she asked.
Zaire's gaze met hers, unreadable. "To who you truly are."
* * *