Kai's POV
She was gone.
And no matter how badly I wanted to chase after her, I knew I couldn't—not yet.
I turned my back on the forest and made my way back toward the village, jaw clenched and footsteps heavy. The path felt longer this time, like the world itself was reminding me of everything that now rested on my shoulders.
By the time I stepped through the outer gate, the village was already stirring with tension. Word had spread—something was coming. People could feel it in the air, the way animals grew quiet, how the wind carried whispers of something dark approaching.
I headed straight to the central hall. My father and the elders were already there, seated around the long stone table, a map of the valley sprawled out in front of them.
My father looked up as I entered. His golden eyes—just like mine—met mine with silent understanding.
"Kai," he said, voice steady, "you came back."
"I had to," I replied. "Anna's gone. She left the hideout… she's going after the third shard."
A murmur rippled through the room, but my father raised a hand to silence it. He studied me for a long moment before nodding.
"She's brave," he said quietly. "But you've always known that."
I didn't respond. I just stepped closer to the table and looked down at the map, placing my hand flat over the village's location.
"We need to prepare. Whatever's out there—it's coming for us next. The Ash Sentinel may hold them back for a time, but we can't count on that. We need defenses. We need fighters. And we need the villagers ready."
One of the elders leaned forward. "Do you think she'll return with the shard?"
I looked up at him, voice calm but unwavering. "She will."
Because I have to believe that. I have to believe she'll come back to me—whole, alive, and with the key to saving all of us.
My father placed a firm hand on my shoulder.
"Then we'll stand and hold the line until she does."
Alex Pov:
While Kai went back to the village, I stayed behind at the Ash Sentinel hideout.
Someone had to watch things from the inside. Too many pieces were moving all at once, and something about the way the leader—Seraya—carried herself lately had been gnawing at me.
At first, she seemed like any loyal commander. Sharp eyes. Strong voice. Devotion to the cause. But now… now there was something off in the way she watched people when they weren't looking. Like a predator studying its prey, patient and calculating.
And then there was the way she reacted to Anna's departure—cold, almost… pleased.
I caught her late that night, slipping through one of the side tunnels beneath the hideout, where only sentinels on high alert were supposed to go. I followed, silent as my blade, keeping to the shadows. She didn't even sense me.
What I saw chilled my blood.
She knelt before a broken altar deep underground, her hand outstretched over a pool of inky black water. The same blackness I had seen in visions—corruption, creeping and alive. Her whisper was barely audible, but I caught enough.
"Let them fall. Let them break. I will rise… and the shard will be mine."
My stomach turned.
She was working with whatever darkness Anna saw in her visions. Feeding it. Letting it grow inside her. This wasn't just betrayal—it was treason against everything we were fighting for.
I backed away slowly, my heart racing. I needed to get this to Kai. To warn the village. But I couldn't leave just yet. If Seraya knew I was onto her, she'd strike before we were ready.
So I waited.
Watched.
And sharpened my blade in the dark.
Because the next time she moved… I would be ready.
Days passed. I kept what I saw in the tunnels to myself.
Not because I was afraid—no, I was watching. Waiting. I needed proof. I needed to see how far the rot had spread before I pulled the root from the earth.
And Seraya… she played her part flawlessly.
By day, she wore her mask of loyalty like a crown. Her voice rang with confidence, rallying the Ash Sentinels, speaking of honor and sacrifice. To most, she looked like a beacon of strength. A leader who would keep them alive.
But underneath that mask… she was moving her pieces.
She started small—subtle suggestions during strategy meetings. Quiet doubts about Kai's leadership. "He left the village vulnerable," she said once, her tone gentle, persuasive. "Anna left him. Perhaps she sensed weakness."
Some nodded. Some stayed silent.
Then came whispers about the shard.
"It corrupts those who hold it," she said to one of the captains late at night, just loud enough for me to overhear from the corridor. "Anna carried it for too long. What if she's changed? What if she never comes back the same?"
Her words spread like wildfire through dry grass. People started asking questions. About Anna. About the blade. About what the shard might be doing to everyone who touched it.
And Seraya… she didn't silence the questions.
She fed them.
One night, I watched her kneel beside a wounded scout, pressing a comforting hand to his chest as he shook with fever.
"You're safe now," she whispered. "I'll protect this place—even if the others can't."
Her manipulation was masterful. Poison dripped in honey.
And the worst part? She wasn't just turning people against us.
She was turning them to her.
I grit my teeth as I walked through the hideout, watching her puppets move around me like shadows. It wouldn't be long before she made her move.
But when she did… I'd be ready to strike.
The voices behind the stone wall struck like daggers.
"He's grown too curious… too dangerous."
"Let him fall. Quietly. Tonight. No one will question it."
The voice wasn't just familiar—it was hers.
Seraya.
All this time, I thought she was the advisor. The whisper behind the curtain. But now I understood: she wasn't whispering to the Leader.
She was the Leader.
The face she wore in public—a wise, poised woman—was a mask. Beneath it was something colder, darker, hungry for control. She had wrapped the Ash Sentinel around her finger with false promises and cloaked truths. The people followed her out of loyalty… but loyalty can be broken.
And I was done playing her game.
I stormed into the hall, head held high, boots echoing against the stone as I walked through the gathering crowd. Their whispers followed me, uncertain, but alert. Watching.
Seraya stood at the far end, draped in black and crimson, her posture regal and calculating as ever. She hadn't expected me to come here like this. Not in front of them.
Good.
"I know what you are," I said loud enough for all to hear.
She tilted her head, calm. "Enlighten me, outsider."
"You planned my execution. You've fed lies to these people while darkness seeps into this place. You've turned the Ash Sentinels into your personal army—not defenders of the realm, but pawns in your war for power."
Gasps rang out. Some Sentinels stepped back in confusion, others glanced at one another with doubt. Her grip on them wasn't as iron-clad as she believed.
Seraya descended the steps, slow and graceful like a serpent. "You're mistaken, Alex. I've done what I must to protect them. The old ways were weak. I've made us strong."
"You've made them blind," I shot back. "You talk of strength, but you hide in shadows and poison your people with fear. That ends now."
She smiled, cold and cruel. "You think you can stop me?"
I unsheathed my blade. "I don't think. I know."
The hall erupted into chaos as we clashed—steel to steel, light against the dark. Her power surged with unnatural force, like the darkness itself obeyed her command. But I had something she didn't: purpose. Fire. Hope.
She fought to destroy.
I fought to protect.
Each strike rang with more than metal—it echoed truth. And as the fight raged on, I saw it: the doubt in the eyes of the Sentinels. The way some lowered their weapons. The way they looked at her… and then at me.
With a final surge, I disarmed her, sending her blade clattering across the stone.
She fell to her knees, blood on her lip, hate in her eyes.
I turned to the others.
"This is not who you are. You are not her puppets. You are protectors. Guardians. You once stood for something greater—and you can again. Stand with me. Not for power. Not for control. For each other."
There was silence. Then, one by one, they stepped forward—toward me.
Seraya's reign had cracked. Her shadow was lifting.
But I knew this wasn't over.
Not yet.
Anna's POV:
The moment I laid eyes on the third shard, I knew I was near the end of this part of the journey.
It glowed faintly in a bed of ancient stone, nestled in the center of a mountain shrine forgotten by time. Its violet light pulsed like a living thing, and when I stepped closer, I felt the hum deep in my chest. The pieces were calling to each other. The Blade of Time was almost whole.
My fingers trembled as I reached out.
Then… the air shifted.
Everything went still—the wind, the birds, the very beat of my heart.
He appeared from the shadows, tall and still as stone. Cloaked in black, with eyes that held the weight of centuries. He didn't look like a monster. He looked like a man—beautiful, pale, ageless—but there was something about him that made the air cold.
Death.
He didn't raise a weapon. He didn't try to strike.
He just looked at me… almost in awe.
"You," he said, his voice quiet and rough, like someone who hadn't spoken in lifetimes. "You are not what I expected."
I stiffened, unsure. "I'm not afraid of you."
He let out a soft chuckle, one that sounded more like sadness than amusement. "You should be. But not for the reasons you think."
He stepped closer, his gaze not on the shard—but on me.
"For eons, I've wandered," he whispered. "Immortal. Bound to endings. Watching kingdoms rise and fall. Watching love bloom only to wither while I remain." His voice darkened slightly. "Always alone."
I said nothing, heart pounding in my chest.
"But then you walked into my silence," he murmured. "You carry light… and sorrow. Strength… and uncertainty. I could take you. Keep you. Make you mine." His eyes burned into me. "Would you be my queen, Anna?"
I took a step back. "What?"
He looked away sharply then, as if catching himself in a moment of weakness. His jaw clenched, and something bitter passed over his face as his eyes flicked to the shard.
"The Blade…" he growled under his breath. "Of course. The damn Blade. It always brings them."
"Who?" I asked, wary.
His gaze sharpened on me, lips curling into a quiet snarl. "The twin time ninjas. Kai. Alex." He spat the names like venom. "Always them. Always stealing what I could never have. The women. The fate. The power."
I blinked, stunned. "You know them?"
"I knew them before they were even born," he hissed. "They don't tell you, do they? About the truth? About what they are?"
"What truth?"
Death stepped closer again, his voice low, sharp, and cold. "Do you know who they really are, Anna? What they were created for? What their bond to you means?"
My breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
He gave a twisted smile. "You're walking into a web spun long before you ever existed. They were chosen by Time itself—but they weren't meant to feel. They weren't meant to love. And yet here they are… bleeding and breaking rules for you."
He paused.
"They've already broken the law of eternity… just to keep you safe."
I stood frozen.
"Tell me, Anna… do you really know the truth about Kai and Alex?"