We'd move as a family now — strange, patched-together, and imperfect.
But family all the same.
The morning air was crisp as we stepped out of the temple gates, our belongings packed tight, our hearts a tangle of anticipation and unease. Auralia walked beside me, her fingers brushing mine every so often, while Elya scampered ahead, clutching a satchel nearly as large as she was. She wore one of the temple's donated cloaks — pale gray, too long in the sleeves — but her spirit made up for the size.
The northern gate stood tall in the distance, a looming threshold between the strange safety of Kithra and the unknown wilds that waited beyond. I could see the guards already watching us from their post, disinterested, barely aware of the weight this crossing held.
Behind us, soft footsteps broke the quiet. We turned to see the priest — Father Seran — walking up in his ceremonial robes, though they were dusted faintly with road dust. Beside him, silent as always, walked the white-haired boy.
He still looked no older than twelve, but his presence made the air shift like ripples on a still pond.
Father Seran offered a smile that didn't quite mask the tightness in his eyes. "You leave under many omens, my children."
Auralia stepped forward, her tone respectful. "We wouldn't go without saying thank you. For everything."
He nodded, folding his hands. "The gods work in ways that remain hidden until we are ready. You were brought here for a reason… and though I still do not know it, I trust that reason is true."
Elya ran back to hug the priest's leg. "Will you miss me?"
Seran chuckled, ruffling her hair. "More than you know, little one. Keep them from doing anything too foolish."
The white-haired boy stepped forward now, gaze fixed firmly on me. I still hadn't spoken to him — hadn't dared. His silence was not void of meaning. It was heavier than most words. And when his hand briefly touched my arm, I felt it again — that same heat beneath my skin, like lightning chained beneath glass.
He stared up at me with ancient eyes.
I nodded.
No words were needed.
The boy turned and walked back toward the temple without a single glance back.
Father Seran watched him go, then turned back to us. "You travel north to uncertain places. Be wary of those who hide behind kindness. Trust your bond, not the ease of a stranger's smile."
He raised a hand in blessing, tracing a symbol in the air — a sun wrapped in a circle of thorns. "May Aone watch your steps. And may Asmut turn his gaze when your path grows dark."
I bowed my head, hand to heart.
Auralia did the same.
Elya waved.
As we passed through the open gate, the sounds of the city faded behind us. The road ahead bent into the trees, and the sky above opened wide.
We walked on — three souls bound by circumstance, choice, and love — into the shadows of what was to come.