Elara found me before dawn.
I didn't hear her approach—only felt the sudden absence of the wind, the way the night seemed to draw back as if giving her space. She stood a few paces away, lantern shaking in her hand, its light catching on the fracture in the earth like a wound that refused to close.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Neither did I.
"Ariana," she finally whispered, and my name sounded fragile in her mouth. "Did you… see anything?"
The lie waited between us, fully formed. Ready. Familiar.
I could have taken it. Slipped it over the truth like a cloak and let us both breathe easier. That was what I had always done. What I had been trained to do.
Instead, I asked, "How long have you known?"
Elara flinched.
That was answer enough.
She knelt beside me, setting the lantern down as if sudden movements might break me. Her hands hovered in the air, unsure whether she was allowed to touch me anymore. I hated that more than the fear in her eyes.
"We did what we had to," she said. "You were a child."
"And now?" My voice didn't sound like mine. It was steadier. Sharper. "What am I now?"
Elara swallowed. "A danger."
The word settled deep in my chest, heavy and cold. Somewhere beyond the hills, the presence I had felt the night before stirred again, like it was listening.
Rowan appeared from the shadows without announcement, his expression tight. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade—not threatening, but ready.
"They'll have felt it," he said. "The ground doesn't move without consequence."
"Who?" I demanded.
Both of them looked at each other, and in that glance lived years of shared fear.
"The ones who remember," Rowan said. "And the ones who never forgot."
They packed quickly. Too quickly. Like this moment had been waiting for me longer than I had been waiting for it. Elara wrapped supplies with shaking hands, avoiding my eyes. Rowan scanned the horizon as if expecting the sky itself to split open.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
Rowan hesitated. Elara answered.
"Away from here," she said. "Away from the lie."
We left before the sun fully rose. The path I had walked my entire life felt unfamiliar beneath my feet, as though it already belonged to someone else. With every step, the world seemed to lean closer—trees whispering, shadows stretching, the air alive with attention.
I felt it all.
Not as noise, but as knowing.
By midday, the visions returned—faint this time. Flickers. A name on my tongue I couldn't yet speak. Nyxara. It echoed in my bones like a memory refusing to die.
I stopped walking.
"What did you take from me?" I asked quietly.
Elara closed her eyes.
"Your past," she said. "So you could have a future."
Rowan turned to face me fully. "And because if you had known," he added, "you would have burned the world before you were ready."
Something inside me shifted then—not rage, not fear, but resolve.
They had shaped my silence.
They had buried my truth.
But whatever I was becoming now—it would be on my terms.
Behind us, the land we had fled trembled once more.
And ahead of us, the truth waited.