Arlith still felt lightheaded, the weight of the vision pressing down on her. The connection to Aeloria’s memories was growing stronger—too strong. Her thoughts tangled with Aeloria’s, and it was becoming impossible to distinguish where one began and the other ended. The sensation was disorienting, a constant thrum beneath her skin, like a distant drumbeat echoing from the depths of her soul.

  The Nythari, noticing her distress, gently led her to a nearby seat, his hands steady on her shoulders as if sensing the turmoil within her. "Sit," he urged quietly. "Describe what you saw."

  Arlith’s gaze flickered to the floor. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. Was it safe to share the visions? Could she even explain what she had experienced? The swirling images of the past—Aeloria, Zaryx, the First Ones—felt like fragments of a shattered dream. Could she trust him with what she had seen?

  But as the Nythari's knowing gaze met hers, the silent weight of his understanding seemed to pierce through her doubts. He already suspected the truth. And perhaps, for once, she didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

  "You felt his presence, didn’t you?" he asked, his voice soft, but there was no mistaking the certainty in it.

  Arlith tensed. She turned sharply to look at him. “Who?”

  The Nythari’s lips curled in a slight, grim smile. He did not answer immediately. Instead, he traced his fingers over the edge of the scroll, the motion deliberate. He spoke as though the words were as old as time itself. "Zaryx has not set foot in Aeorla for over two thousand years. Yet, his presence lingers. Even in the oldest records, his shadow stretches far and wide. Some say the Starshard still carries his whispers."

  The weight of his words slammed into her chest like a blow. The Starshard. It wasn’t just an artifact of the past—it was something more. Something deeply tied to both Zaryx and Aeloria. A tether, a binding force, a relic that bridged the divide between them.

  Arlith felt the truth surge within her like a tidal wave. The Starshard wasn’t merely a remnant of history—it was a link. A connection between them, one that bound her fate to Zaryx’s. And that connection was now reaching out to her, pulling her into a past she was only beginning to understand.

  As if on cue, the pull of the Starshard flared within her, sharper, more insistent than before. A searing pain sliced through her chest. Fragments of memory surfaced like shattered glass—visions of war, of sorrow, and the weight of a crown pressing onto her brow, too heavy to bear. She saw Aeloria standing alone amidst a battlefield, her face painted with grief and resolve. She felt the crushing isolation of leadership—the solitude of being the one to make decisions that would shape the world.

  It wasn’t just history. It was personal.

  The Nythari watched her, his eyes searching for the truth in her face. "You are awakening old memories, Arlith. But you must decide—will you embrace what you were? Or will you forge a new path?"

  Arlith’s throat tightened as she struggled to find her voice. How can I choose between the past and the future when the past keeps pulling me back? She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a cold rush of urgency.

  Zaryx sat alone in his citadel, a brooding figure in a darkened chamber. His mind was clouded, still reeling from the vision the Starshard had granted him. He had seen her—no, felt her—through the reflection of the ancient stone mirror. Aeloria… Arlith. She was beginning to remember. And with that awakening came the bittersweet knowledge that the past was returning, threatening to tear open wounds that had never fully healed.

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  He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the obsidian mirror, his mind focused on the vision it revealed. Arlith in the library, trembling over the scroll. His heart clenched as he watched her—felt her reluctance to embrace the truth, her confusion as she fought the connection that still lingered between them.

  "You cannot run from what we are," he whispered, though his words were met only with silence.

  Yet, Arlith continued to try. She resisted, but the pull was undeniable. She would be his, once more. Or so he told himself.

  His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. He could not let her slip away again—not when she was so close to remembering everything. He had to act quickly. Before the mortals poisoned her mind with their version of the past. Before they turned her against him again.

  With a sharp motion, he summoned a cloaked figure—a trusted spy, one of the few who remained loyal to him after all these years. The spy knelt before Zaryx, awaiting orders.

  “Find her,” Zaryx commanded, his voice cold as steel. “Do not let them hide her from me. If necessary, allow yourself to be captured by slavers—let her see what these mortals are like, how they would use her.”

  The spy nodded silently, vanishing into the shadows, ready to carry out his lord’s bidding.

  Zaryx turned back to the mirror, his silver eyes hard. "You will see, Aeloria. I am not your enemy. But you will remember."

  As his gaze lingered on the reflection, doubt began to gnaw at him. Was he truly in the right? Or was this all a desperate attempt to claw back something that had been lost?

  Standing at the edge of the city after having exited the meeting happening at the Great Amphitheater a while ago, Sorvin's eyes scanned the forest on the city's horizon. The sky was still shrouded in twilight, and the city of Aeorla bathed in an uneasy silence. His mind churned with the information he had just received. Members of Aeorla's city watch had reported seeing figures moving at the edges of the city—figures that didn’t belong. He had feared this moment might come.

  That was then a hooded figure was noticed in the shadows of the forest, it was a quick, stealthy movement. Sorvin’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his rifle as he turned to face the messenger.

  “It’s them,” the Irithil Magic user whispered, his voice low. “The spies. They’re closer than we thought.”

  Sorvin’s jaw tightened. He needed to act quickly before they got too close to Arlith. He gave the order in a voice that brooked no argument.

  "Alert the others in the entourage. We can't let them get any closer. Whatever Zaryx’s game is, we’ll be ready."

  Back in the library, Arlith finally regained her composure, the fog of confusion beginning to lift. The Nythari's words echoed in her mind—Will you embrace what you were? The question pressed into her thoughts, like a weight too heavy to bear.

  Before she could respond, the library doors flew open with a crash. Sorvin entered, his usual calm demeanor replaced by an unmistakable air of urgency. His hand rested on the hilt of his rifle, his expression grim.

  "We have a problem," he said, his voice taut with tension.

  Arlith’s heart skipped a beat. She straightened, forcing the lingering dizziness from her mind. "What is it?"

  Sorvin’s eyes met hers. "Scouts at the city’s edge spotted movement—figures in the dark. They may be spies from the C?sr?thian Empire, though we can’t confirm it yet."

  The Nythari's expression darkened as he absorbed the news. His voice was low, heavy with realization. "Then he knows."

  Arlith’s pulse quickened. Zaryx? Was he watching her now, or was it the C?sr?thian Empire that had begun to close in? The uncertainty weighed on her, but she couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. The time for hesitation had passed.

  The Nythari gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Arlith, you need to understand your past. If you are to face the growing danger, you must do so quickly." His eyes met hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle. "The Great Amphitheater—there is a hidden chamber beneath its foundation, a sanctuary built by the First Ones. It was Aeloria’s place of meditation, where she communed with the ancient forces of the world. If you seek the truth, that is where you must go. When you are ready, return here, and allow the Starshard to acknowledge you."

  Arlith hesitated her thoughts a whirlpool of doubt. Did she really want to know the truth? Could she bear it?

  But with Zaryx’s shadow looming ever closer, she felt there was no choice. The past would no longer remain buried. She had to face it.

  Before she could speak, Sorvin’s hand settled gently on her shoulder, grounding her. She jumped at the touch but turned to find him looking at her with an expression softened by concern.

  “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said quietly, his sky-blue eyes reflecting her own light-blue gaze. His voice was steady, but his eyes seemed to search for her decision.

  Arlith nodded, though a sinking feeling tugged at her chest. No matter who stood beside her, this path was hers to walk alone. No one else could carry the weight of the truth she was about to uncover.

  As they prepared to leave for the Amphitheater, the Starshard flared once more, its energy sending ripples through the very air of the city. The hum of its power reverberated through the stone walls, a pulse that filled the city with an ominous warning.

  And in the distance, a shadow stirred. Zaryx had already made his move.

  The past was no longer content to remain buried.