The fire crackled low, the night calm after Thaleia's revelations. But Seraphina could not sleep. She kept turning the necklace over in her hands, its faint glow catching the starlight.
"This necklace…" she murmured. "It's the reason people don't turn to stone when they look at me. Dorian, what if this isn't just some trinket? What if it was made for a reason — for me?"
Dorian sat up, his eyes steady. "You want to find out who made it."
Seraphina nodded, gripping the pendant tightly. "If it can suppress the curse… then the maker must have known about my bloodline. Maybe they knew my mother. Maybe they know the truth that others won't tell."
Dorian thought for a long moment, then gave a sharp nod. "Then that's where we go next. We follow the trail of the necklace."
The next morning, they stopped in a small trading town called Redhaven, a place of crooked chimneys and bustling markets. Seraphina lowered her hood, though nervous eyes followed her. Dorian, however, guided her with quiet assurance, refusing to let the stares shake her.
They sought out jewelers and charm-sellers. Most scoffed, shaking their heads, claiming never to have seen such a piece. But at the fifth stall, an elderly merchant leaned close, his eyes narrowing on the pendant.
"This… this is not the work of mortals," he whispered, lowering his voice. "It was crafted by a reclusive enchanter. Some call him Eryx the Binder. He forges charms that hold back curses, seal away spirits, and chain fates."
"Where is he?" Seraphina asked quickly.
The merchant hesitated. "Far to the east, beyond the Ashen Peaks. Few return from that journey. They say his forge is hidden in a valley of shadows. Some say he is not a man at all, but a cursed soul bound to his forge."
Seraphina's snakes stirred uneasily. "Then we'll go east."
That night, as they rested at an inn, Dorian pressed her gently.
"Seraphina… why chase this now?"
She looked at him, her eyes burning with quiet resolve. "Because my whole life, I've been told I'm cursed. That I was born wrong. If this necklace was made for me… then someone knew my mother was more than a monster. Someone believed enough to make this. I need to know why. I need to know who."
Dorian was silent for a long time. Then he reached across the table, covering her hand with his.
"Then we'll find him together."
Her snakes quieted at his touch, and for the first time since Thaleia's tale, Seraphina allowed herself to hope.
The road east stretched long before them — through woods haunted by whispers, across rivers swollen with autumn rain. Yet Seraphina walked with new purpose. She wasn't just fleeing hunters anymore. She was chasing the truth — about her mother, about herself, and about the necklace that bound her fate.
But far behind them, the hunters had also heard whispers of Eryx the Binder. And if Seraphina sought him… they would be waiting at the end of the trail.