The morning air was crisp as Auralia and I gathered our few belongings, the weight of the ring on my finger a constant, grounding reminder of what we now shared. The temple walls, once cold and imposing, felt almost like a sanctuary — a brief refuge from the chaos that awaited beyond its gates.
We moved quietly, careful not to disturb the priests who busied themselves in daily rituals, their murmured chants fading softly behind us. I was already imagining the open road ahead — the wind on my face, the freedom to plan our next steps on our own terms.
But then, just as my hand reached for the temple's heavy wooden door, a small voice stopped me.
"Please… don't leave me behind."
I turned slowly to see the little girl standing there, her wide eyes filled with earnest hope. Her small frame seemed fragile against the towering stone pillars, but the resolve in her voice held a quiet strength.
Auralia stepped forward, concern knitting her brow. "You want to come with us?"
The girl nodded, clutching the bundle of lavender from the ceremony tighter. "I don't want to be alone anymore."
Before I could answer, another figure appeared — a boy, perhaps no older than the girl, but with an aura that felt much older. His hair was the same stark white I'd seen before, the same shade as the mysterious child who once led me through the shadows.
Only now he looked more like an adult — calm, silent, almost ethereal. He said nothing, but his presence filled the space with an unspoken gravity.
Auralia glanced at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Do you know him?"
I hesitated, then shook my head quietly. "No. But… I've seen someone like him before."
The boy stepped closer, and as our eyes met, a flicker of something ancient passed between us — like the silent thread of fate pulling us all together.
The little girl looked up at me again, her voice steady. "I want to help. I want to be with you both."
I exchanged a glance with Auralia, feeling the weight of the choice before us. The road ahead was already uncertain. Now it seemed even more so.
But one thing was clear:
Our journey wasn't meant to be walked alone.
I took a slow breath, trying to steady the whirlwind inside my head. The boy — the vessel of Asmut — stood silently by the temple doorway, his piercing white hair glowing softly in the morning light. His presence was unsettling and familiar all at once, like a shadow cast long before dawn.
Why now? I wondered. Why here? The memory of his first silent guidance through darkness flickered in my mind, but now he appeared in flesh and bone, watching, waiting.
"Auralia," I finally said, voice low, "do you know who he is?"
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the boy. "I don't. Never seen him before."
Her gaze shifted quickly to the little girl, who stood clutching the lavender flowers, a hopeful softness in her eyes that softened my heart.
"Why do you want to come with us?" Auralia asked gently.
The girl hesitated, then whispered, "Because… I'm tired of being afraid. I want to be where it's safe. With you."
Her honesty was raw, and I felt a protective warmth rise in my chest.
But the vessel — silent and still — seemed to watch everything unfold like an unread page in a story I didn't yet understand.
I clenched my fists. This boy held the key to powers I barely comprehended. His presence was a reminder that our path wasn't just ours to choose.
"I don't know what this means," I muttered, stepping closer to Auralia. "Why is he here now? What does he want from us?"
She looked back at me, her eyes steady despite the confusion. "Maybe… It's a warning. Or an offer."
The little girl tugged at my sleeve again, breaking the moment. "Please," she said softly, "Let me stay. I can help."
I glanced at the boy once more, who finally nodded— just the slightest tilt of his head — before turning to walk into the temple, disappearing into shadow again as quietly as he had appeared.
My heart hammered with questions, but the answer seemed clear in that moment: Our journey had become more complicated — and we could no longer walk it alone.
We sat together in one of the temple's sun-drenched chambers, maps spread before us on a low table, the scent of incense and old parchment hanging in the air. Auralia knelt beside me, her brow furrowed as she traced potential routes along the eastern spine of the continent. The little girl — Elya, we had learned her name was — leaned over the table as well, her tiny fingers trailing after Auralia's like a curious shadow.
"She'll slow us down," I said quietly, not unkindly. "The roads we're headed toward aren't kind. Especially not to children."
Auralia gave me a sidelong glance. "And yet, I recall someone saying the same about me, once."
I huffed a breath — not quite a laugh. "You weren't seven years old."
"No, but I was lost. And you helped me."
That silenced me.
Across the table, Elya looked between us, clearly unsure if she was about to be turned away.
"I can help," she said again, voice small but firm. "I know how to find mushrooms that are safe to eat. And I can be quiet. Really quiet. Like a mouse."
Auralia smiled warmly and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind the girl's ear. "I believe you."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, the ache behind my eyes from lack of sleep or too many thoughts. "It's not just the wilderness. We don't know what else is waiting. If Silas survived, he may hunt us. And… there's the mark."
Auralia's smile faded slightly, her hand retreating to her lap. The room seemed to dim for a moment — not in light, but in mood. She glanced down at the map again, quieter this time. "I'll protect her. If it comes to it, I'll stay behind with her."
"No." My voice was firmer than I intended. "We don't split up again. Not after last time."
Elya looked between us with wide eyes, sensing the weight behind our words.
I softened, shifting toward the map again. "If we take the forest path along the coast, we'll avoid most of the trade roads. It's slower, but safer. Fewer eyes. Fewer questions."
Auralia nodded. "We can stop in Mirenvale. It's quiet, and there's an old contact of mine there. Someone I trust."
"You sure?"
"About as sure as I ever am," she replied with a wry smirk.
We both turned our attention back to Elya, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, chewing on a piece of dried fruit one of the priests had given her.
"Alright, little mouse," I said. "If you're coming with us, there'll be rules."
Her eyes lit up like a rising sun. "I can follow rules!"
"No running off. No touching strange things. And if you hear either of us yell your name, you run — fast and far. Understood?"
She nodded quickly, and then did something I didn't expect: she crawled over and threw her arms around both of us.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I don't feel afraid when I'm with you."
Auralia returned the hug without hesitation. I hesitated a beat longer… then wrapped an arm gently around the child's back.
The world was growing darker with every day that passed. Forces were moving in the shadows — divine and otherwise. But here, in this quiet moment between three souls, there was light.