A cold mist blanketed the horizon as Luma, Kael, and Ereth began their journey away from the Old City. The road stretching eastward lay silent, long abandoned by time and men. The Cracked Tower, their next destination, loomed in the distance like a shadow torn from the past — a monument that held the secrets of Vaeloth's resurrection.
Ereth led the way, his steps steady even as the mist thickened, veiling their surroundings. "Guard your minds," he said curtly. "This mist doesn't just hide… it seeks."
Luma clutched the hem of her cloak tightly. She could feel it — not ordinary cold, but a silence that screamed. With every step, the mist seemed to come alive, curling around them with whispers and shifting shadows.
Suddenly, Luma stopped. Before her, the mist thinned, revealing the silhouette of a woman standing still — her hair tied neatly, a longing smile on her face.
"Mother…?" Luma whispered.
The woman extended a hand. "Come home, my child. This is not your path."
Luma stepped forward, entranced, drawn into a sweet but suffocating illusion. Her fingers nearly touched the woman's hand — but just before contact, a voice snapped her back to reality.
"Luma!" Kael shook her shoulders. "That's not your mother. It's the mist!"
Startled, Luma stepped back. The woman vanished instantly, sucked back into the mist like smoke. Beside them, Ereth stood still, his eyes tightly shut, his face tense — he was battling his own shadow.
"This mist attacks what's hidden in the heart," Kael said, scanning their surroundings. "It knows your fears."
Luma nodded, and they kept moving, strengthening one another with silent trust. There were no more wasted words — only a quiet bond growing between them.
They finally reached a small clearing where a half-ruined stone statue stood at the center. Tree roots coiled around it, but on its chest, a faintly glowing symbol pulsed with light. Ereth stepped forward and touched it with his palm.
"A marker," he said. "We're close to the Cracked Tower."
Ancient words were carved beneath the symbol: "At the highest peak, the shadow is broken by the light you plant yourself."
Luma read the phrase softly. Something within her stirred. The light she planted herself? Did that light come from Selene's power… or from within her own soul?
Night fell, and they rested in an abandoned tent left behind by past travelers. Tree stumps became seats, and a small fire Kael lit brought a little warmth against the biting air.
"Why did you follow me this far, Kael?" Luma asked quietly. "I'm not even sure who I really am."
Kael smiled, eyes fixed on the fire. "Because you don't need to be Selene to be worth saving. Just being Luma is enough."
Luma fell silent. His words did more than comfort — they planted hope.
Ereth watched them from a corner. For the first time, his face softened. He spoke gently, "Not everyone returns from the Cracked Tower. But this time… I believe it will be different."
Dawn broke, and the mist began to fade. Through the thinning veil, the Cracked Tower finally emerged. It rose magnificently, leaning slightly to the right, as if resisting the passage of time.
At the tower's base, a golden magical circle barred the entrance. Ereth stopped. "This is an ancient magic barrier. It only opens to those honest about their intentions."
Luma stepped forward. Her heart pounded, but her voice remained steady.
"I did not come for revenge… not to kill Vaeloth. I came to stop this cycle of darkness — to make way for a new light yet to be born."
The golden light flared brightly, and the magic circle slowly opened.
Kael and Ereth followed behind her. The Cracked Tower had opened for them — and with it, their fate drew near.
But high above, in the shadows that moved of their own will, a pair of red eyes glowed.
"Selene… you came after all. But are you strong enough this time?"
The shadow smiled — and the world waited for its rebirth.
To Be Continued