The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wild herbs. Aelira stood at the edge of the glen, her breath catching as the wind whispered around her. The silver-blue glow of the moon above bathed the clearing in a ghostly light, illuminating every shadow and curve of the land.
She was no longer just Aelira. The truth had sunk deep into her bones—she was Saelwyn reborn. The visions, the voice in the flames, the burning circle—all of it was real. Her past had bled into her present, and now she stood suspended between two lifetimes.
Her fingers clenched around the edge of her cloak as footsteps approached behind her. She didn't need to turn to know it was Kaeln. His presence was like a shadow—imposing, familiar, and tinged with guilt.
"You shouldn't be here," she murmured, not looking back.
"I had to," he replied, voice low. "You're remembering too fast. It's dangerous."
She turned, eyes flashing in the moonlight. "Dangerous for me? Or dangerous for you?"
Kaeln flinched. "For both of us."
Aelira stepped forward, the sigil beneath her skin pulsing faintly as if it sensed his nearness. "You were there, Kaeln. You said the spell. You watched me burn."
"I was deceived."
"I was murdered." Her voice cracked with the weight of memory.
Kaeln looked away, the wind tugging at his cloak. "And I've paid for it with every breath since."
They stood in silence, the forest holding its breath. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried—a lonely, haunting sound.
"I don't know who I'm angrier with," she said after a while. "You, for killing me. Or myself, for still wanting to trust you."
He stepped closer. "You don't have to trust me. Just let me help you. Let me protect you this time."
Aelira's eyes narrowed. "Why? Out of guilt?"
"Out of love," he whispered. "Because even now, I still love you. Even if you can never forgive me."
The words hung between them like fragile glass.
Aelira turned away, her fingers brushing over the mark on her shoulder. "Then tell me everything. No more half-truths. No more secrets. If you want a chance at redemption, start by giving me the truth."
Kaeln hesitated, then nodded. "It started before you were born. Before either of us were born again."
He gestured for her to sit beside him on the moss-covered stone. She did, reluctantly, her heart pounding.
"There was a prophecy," he began, "spoken by the first Veilkeeper. A witch would be born with the mark of the Moonfire, a soul tied to the Veil, capable of destroying or restoring the balance. That witch was you—Saelwyn."
"I don't remember any of that," she whispered.
"You weren't meant to," he said. "Vyra feared what you could become. She twisted the prophecy. Said you would open the Veil and bring ruin. She convinced the coven that you had to be stopped. And I… I was her sword."
Aelira clenched her fists. "You should have known better."
"I was young, loyal, and blind," he said bitterly. "I believed her lies. Until it was too late."
His voice faltered. "When I saw you burning, something inside me broke. I tried to stop it, but the magic was already done. I've carried that moment through every rebirth. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw your face."
The fire in Aelira's chest simmered with rage and sorrow. She wanted to scream, to strike him—but she also wanted to cry in his arms and pretend none of it had happened.
Before she could speak, a rustle in the trees sent them both to their feet. The shadows thickened, and the air turned cold.
From the edge of the clearing, a figure stepped out.
Nessa.
But her eyes were wrong—glassy and too still.
"Nessa?" Aelira asked, stepping forward.
"She's not alone," Kaeln said darkly.
A voice spoke through Nessa, thick with power and venom. "The Veil is thinning. The girl is waking. She must be silenced."
Aelira's blood turned to ice. That voice… it wasn't Nessa.
It was Vyra.
Aelira stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat. The warmth Kaeln had just given her vanished like mist in the morning sun, replaced by an eerie silence. Nessa—no, Vyra—stepped into the clearing with predatory grace, the firelight casting sharp shadows across her now-haunted face.
"Nessa?" Aelira whispered, taking a cautious step forward.
But the voice that answered wasn't hers.
"She's still here… buried somewhere," Vyra said smoothly, her lips curving into a cold smile. "But she was always weak. Soft. I merely borrowed her shell."
Kaeln instinctively moved in front of Aelira, shielding her. "How are you here? We burned you… sealed you in the Veil."
Vyra laughed, a sound that grated against the wind. "You think fire could kill me? I am older than your guilt, Kaeln. Older than this land's memory."
Aelira stepped beside him. "You controlled the coven. Orchestrated my death. Why?"
Vyra's golden eyes glittered. "Because you were too powerful. A flame without boundaries consumes everything. You would have unbound the Veil. Let chaos walk among us. I saved this world from you."
"You killed me," Aelira said, voice shaking.
"I judged you," Vyra corrected. "And I would again."
She raised her hand, fingers flickering with shadowy threads of magic. The trees trembled. Wind howled. The mark beneath Aelira's skin burned.
Kaeln's sword was in his hand before Aelira could blink. "You'll touch her over my dead body."
Vyra sneered. "A tempting offer."
Before either of them could act, a pulse of power surged through the clearing. The earth split in a thin, jagged line between them—neither light nor dark, but something in-between. Aelira's body reacted first, drawn toward it like a compass to true north.
"She's awakening," Vyra hissed. "The merge has begun."
Kaeln turned sharply. "Aelira, don't step closer—"
But it was too late.
The energy wrapped around Aelira like smoke. Her body convulsed, lifted from the ground by an unseen force. Her eyes rolled back, and in their place, violet light surged. The mark on her shoulder flared.
From the rift, a second voice echoed—soft, sorrowful, and unmistakably her own.
"I remember now."
Kaeln fell to his knees, tears building behind his eyes. "Saelwyn…"
The light dimmed. Aelira collapsed into his arms, her skin ice-cold. Her lips moved, breathless.
"She's inside Nessa. But Nessa's still fighting."
Kaeln held her tighter. "We'll get her back. I swear it."
But Vyra only smiled. "You cannot kill me without killing her."
And with a sweep of her cloak, she vanished—taking Nessa with her.
---
Back at the cottage, the silence was thick with unspoken fear. Elandor was pacing when Kaeln carried Aelira through the door, her limbs limp and her aura flickering with unstable magic.
"She's burning up," Kaeln said hoarsely.
Elandor quickly cleared the bed, guiding her down with practiced hands. "What happened?"
"She crossed the boundary," Kaeln said. "The Veil responded."
"She's too early in her awakening for that kind of exposure. Her soul—" Elandor's voice cracked. "It could fracture."
Aelira stirred. "No… I'm still here."
Elandor knelt beside her. "Aelira. Can you hear me clearly?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I saw her. I saw me. We were both there. She's not just a memory. She's a part of me now."
Elandor pressed a cool cloth to her head. "We'll stabilize you. Anchor your soul. But we have to act fast."
Kaeln hovered at the foot of the bed. "What do we do?"
Elandor hesitated. "We need the Moonroot."
Kaeln stiffened. "That herb is guarded by the Sorrow Elk."
"I know."
"I killed one before. Barely survived."
"You'll have to go again."
Kaeln looked at Aelira. Her fingers trembled. Her lips were blue.
"I'll bring it back or I won't come back at all."
---
Deep in the Forbidden Hollow
Moonlight barely filtered through the twisted trees. Kaeln moved silently, every sense honed. The air here was sharp with sorrow, heavy with forgotten memories. The Sorrow Elk weren't just beasts—they were the remnants of witches who chose eternal penance.
He followed the trail until the clearing opened, and there it stood.
Majestic. Hollow-eyed. Antlers tangled with mist and moonlight.
The Moonroot shimmered at its hooves.
Kaeln drew his blade—but didn't raise it. Instead, he lowered to one knee, voice steady.
"I come for her."
The Elk tilted its head, peering into his soul. Then it spoke—not in words, but in emotion. Regret. Guilt. Hope.
Kaeln reached forward, slow and reverent, and plucked the Moonroot.
The Elk bowed.
---
Back at the Cottage
Aelira convulsed again. Elandor's wards flickered.
Kaeln burst through the door, throwing the Moonroot into Elandor's hands.
"Boil it. Now."
Steam filled the air. Elandor poured the potion down her throat, murmuring incantations as Kaeln knelt beside her.
Aelira gasped—then stilled.
The room was silent.
Then her eyes opened.
Not violet.
Not silver.
But both—swirling, balanced.
"I remember everything," she said softly.
Elandor let out a breath. "You survived the merge."
Aelira turned to Kaeln. "And now… we fight."