KAEL – POV
Ayla vanished beneath the surface of the bloodwell.
Not drowned. Not broken.
But consumed.
And in her place rose memory-wolves—dozens of them, silver and black, flickering with runes etched in forgotten tongues.
They circled us.
They didn't growl.
They remembered.
I felt it—waves of old grief, triumph, failure. The rise of the First Luna. The madness of the Moonsplit war. And at the center of it all, Neris.
Breathing. Solid. Watching.
"Your Luna walks the bloodline now," she said. "And if she doesn't come back... she stays there. Forever."
Rylan lit his staff.
Daya drew steel.
But I stepped forward.
"You weren't supposed to be born."
Neris smiled. "Neither was she."
Inside the bloodwell, Ayla stood on a sea of memory.
She wasn't alone.
The First Luna's image flickered beside her—young, tall, crowned in bone.
"You've crossed the threshold," she said. "This isn't a vision. This is inheritance."
Ayla looked down.
The wolves circling her weren't ghosts.
