Elira's dreams burned with light.
She stood upon a field of stars, the void stretching endlessly around her. The air hummed, alive with power. And before her, three towering figures emerged shadows of the Eternal Beings. Their faces were hidden, yet their presence pressed against her soul like the weight of a thousand suns.
The Creator's voice spoke first, calm but stern.
"The torn page stirs."
Elira's breath caught. "So it's true. The war isn't over."
The Preserver's light wavered, sorrowful.
"A fragment has awakened in the world of men. If left unchecked, it will chain them once more. Entire kingdoms could fall."
The Destroyer's form loomed darker than the others, his voice low and rumbling.
"And it rests within one not yet fully ours. A vessel uncertain. A soul that bends both ways."
Darian's face flashed in her mind. The way he had looked at her after the storm. The raw fear and something else burning in his eyes.
Her fists clenched. "It's him, isn't it? The stranger."
The Creator's silence was answer enough.
Her heart twisted. She wanted to deny it, to believe the boy she'd defended in the square wasn't tied to this curse. But the gods would not call her here for nothing.
The Preserver extended a hand. From the swirling stars formed a blade not of steel, but of radiant light. Its edge shimmered with runes too ancient for her to read.
"Take this. Should the shadow rise, it is the only weapon that may sever the page's grip."
The blade floated to her, its weightless hilt warm in her hand.
Elira trembled. "If he is the vessel... if he truly holds the page... what do you command me to do?"
The Destroyer's voice rolled like thunder.
"Watch him. Judge him. And when the time comes....choose."
Her stomach sank. "Choose?"
The Creator's voice echoed softly, almost mournful.
"To save him... or to end him."
The stars shattered.
Elira awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in her narrow bed. Her palms burned, and when she looked down, faint traces of light still glimmered on her skin.
The gods had spoken. The torn page was real. The vessel was real.
And the weight of the world now rested on her choice.