Dawn had not yet touched the forest, but Edrin felt the weight of a new day pressing against his chest. The clearing was littered with fragments of shattered stone and the faint shimmer of dissipating astral fire. Liora knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she brushed ash from his arms.
"They're gone… for now," she whispered, but her eyes darted nervously to the treeline. "But that was no ordinary Harvester. I've never seen one weaken like that."
Edrin rose unsteadily, the silver light within him still faintly humming. His body ached, but there was something different now—an awareness, sharp and insistent, threading through his veins. The Harvester's energy had left a mark inside him, a resonance that he couldn't ignore.
"I felt it," he said quietly. "When the Beacon shattered… it answered me. It listened."
Liora's brows knitted. "Answered you? That's impossible. The Beacon has been silent for centuries."
"And yet it spoke," Edrin replied, his voice gaining strength. "It's like… it knew I would come. Like it was waiting for someone—for me."
The forest seemed to hold its breath. Birds stirred nervously, leaves quivering, as though the clearing itself remembered the violence that had passed. Then a chill ran down Edrin's spine—a ripple across the silver light inside him. A presence, distant yet undeniable, brushed against his mind.
"The Council," he breathed. "They'll know."
Liora's eyes widened. "You mean… they felt what happened here?"
Edrin nodded. "And they'll come for us. They always do when something… unplanned happens."
A soft wind carried the scent of ash and ozone. From the treeline, shadows shifted unnaturally, forming shapes that weren't quite human. Edrin tightened his grip on the fading glow in his chest, sensing a tension in the air that felt like the world itself waiting for the first strike.
"We need to move," he said. "If the Council is coming, we can't wait for them to find us here. Not with what's inside me now."
Liora's jaw set. "Where will we go? The Beacon's power… it's drawing them already."
Edrin glanced back at the shattered monolith. The runes no longer glowed, but faint silver threads lingered in the air, like whispers of the freed souls.
"We follow the trail of light," he said. "It's the only chance we have to stay ahead—and to learn what they really want from me."
A distant rumble shook the ground. The forest seemed to pulse with warning, the echo of battles yet to come vibrating through every branch and stone.
Edrin and Liora exchanged a glance, knowing the truth they couldn't yet speak aloud: the Harvester was only the beginning.
And the Astral Council would not forgive.
Edrin stepped carefully over the remnants of the Beacon, each fragment of shattered stone glowing faintly under his touch. He could still feel the silver light within him humming, like a living pulse that refused to fade. It was not a comfort—it was a warning. Every beat whispered of power he did not yet understand, of something that could either protect or consume him entirely.
Liora followed closely, her eyes scanning the treeline, every instinct screaming that danger lingered even in the absence of the Harvester. Her sword hung loosely at her side, its edge dull from the clash with the astral blade. She had never seen Edrin move like that before—not as himself, but as something… more. The boy she had known, timid and careful, had been replaced by someone who could shape starlight into a weapon, who had struck down an abomination the world had feared.
"Edrin," she said softly, her voice a tether to reality, "what happens if they catch you?"
He hesitated. He wanted to lie, to say that he could handle anything—but the truth pressed cold and heavy against his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "But if they catch me… they won't just take me. They'll unmake me. The Harvester… it wasn't just a hunter. It was a test."
Liora's breath caught. "A test?"
"Yes," Edrin said, pressing his hand to his chest where the silver pulse still lingered. "They wanted to see if I was ready. To see if I could… survive what comes next."
The forest seemed to listen, holding its silence. Shadows pooled beneath the trees, unnaturally still, and a chill crept into the clearing that had nothing to do with the cold night. Edrin shivered, not from temperature, but from the awareness that they were no longer alone.
A whisper of movement brushed the edge of their senses. The undergrowth shifted, not from wind, but from something deliberate. Liora spun, sword raised, eyes wide. "Show yourself!" she demanded, voice trembling more from adrenaline than fear.
From the shadows stepped a figure, tall and cloaked in deep midnight robes that seemed to drink in the faint starlight. A hood concealed their face, but a faint glow traced the outline of a mask beneath the fabric, sharp and angular, like carved obsidian. The air around them shimmered faintly, distorting the shapes of trees behind them.
Edrin's pulse quickened. He could feel the presence in his chest reacting—alert, wary, almost fearful. "The Council," he breathed.
The figure did not move closer, but the air around them vibrated with unspoken command. "You have done… something unexpected," the voice said. It was calm, almost serene, yet it carried a weight that pressed on their bones. "The Harvester should have claimed you. Instead… you survived."
Edrin swallowed. "I didn't just survive. I—"
"—unmade it," the figure finished for him, voice edged with curiosity rather than condemnation. "Yes. That is… impressive."
Liora's grip on her sword tightened. "Who are you?" she demanded, but even as the words left her mouth, she felt the futility. This was no ordinary human—they carried an authority that bent the forest itself to their will.
The figure tilted their head, as though studying a puzzle. "I am the First Witness," they said finally. "One of the Council who observes the threads of fate. And you… you have disturbed them."
Edrin felt the silver pulse flare, unbidden. It was almost… a warning, as if the power within him recognized the threat and recoiled. "Disturbed them?" he asked cautiously. "I didn't choose this. I fought to survive."
The First Witness's hands emerged from the cloak, long and pale, fingers tipped with faint silver rings that hummed like the strings of a harp. "Survival is never enough. Power is never enough. You have awakened something… within yourself, yes. But also within the world." Their voice softened, almost mournful. "The Council values order. You have introduced chaos."
Edrin felt a tight knot form in his stomach. "Chaos?" he echoed. "You mean… the Harvester's destruction, the Beacon…"
"Yes," the First Witness said. "The Beacon responds only to those who are meant to wield it. It spoke to you, and in doing so… it called us."
The words struck like ice. Edrin's knees weakened. "You mean the Council will come… for me?"
A faint, almost imperceptible nod. "Soon," the figure said. "And they will not ask for your cooperation. They will take it. Or they will take… everything else."
Liora stepped forward, placing a hand on Edrin's arm. "Then we run," she said firmly. "We find shelter, allies—anyone who can help us."
The First Witness's gaze shifted to her, sharp as glass. "She is wise," they said quietly. "The boy needs guidance. But know this… you will not outrun the Council forever. They see all, they move through all. Even hiding in the shadows will not protect you."
Edrin clenched his fists, silver light flickering faintly across his skin. "Then we fight," he said, voice trembling yet firm. "We don't hide. We don't wait. If they come, they will find me ready."
The First Witness studied him for a long moment, the air between them taut with silent calculation. Finally, they stepped back into the shadows, their voice echoing as though carried by the wind itself. "So be it. But remember… power comes with a price. The Council will remind you of it. Soon."
And then they were gone, swallowed by the forest like smoke.
Edrin exhaled shakily, trying to steady his pulse. Liora's hand tightened around his arm. "That… was not good," she said softly. "Not good at all."
"No," he admitted. "But now we know. The Council is aware. And if they know, that means we have… time."
"Time?" Liora asked, incredulous.
"Just enough," Edrin said, looking at the horizon where the first tendrils of dawn were brushing against the trees. "Time to learn what the Beacon has given me. Time to understand the Harvester. Time… to prepare for what's coming."
The forest was silent, save for the faint hiss of dissipating astral fire. The shards of the Beacon's runes glimmered faintly underfoot, like the ghosts of freed stars. Edrin knelt, pressing his hands to the ground. The silver pulse flared once, then settled into a slow, steady rhythm, as though listening, learning.
"Whatever comes next," he murmured, "I won't be alone."
Liora nodded. "Then let's move. Before they see the trail we leave behind."
And as they vanished into the forest, shadows lengthening around them, the first faint echoes of the Council's presence rippled through the trees, subtle but undeniable. Edrin felt it in his chest—a pressure, a pull, a reminder. The fight had only just begun.
The Astral Council would come.
And the world would tremble when they did.