The forge lay quiet, only the faint crackle of dying embers filling the room. Edith stared blankly at Leofric, her mind echoing his words.
"Where's Olivia?" he repeated.
"Olivia's inside. Why do you ask?" Her voice trembled.
Leofric's jaw tightened. "We need to leave."
Without another word, he rushed inside. Edith followed, her heart pounding.
Orren blinked. "Wait—what happened?"
Eldric's brows furrowed. "Orren, you can go," he said simply.
The merchant frowned but obeyed, rolling his cart away. "Strange folk," he muttered.
Inside, Leofric was gathering their things. Edith knelt beside the sleeping Olivia, brushing her hair gently. Eldric leaned by the door, watching in silence.
"And what makes you think they won't find you again?" he asked quietly.
Leofric froze, his hands tightening around a leather strap. "Then what do you expect us to do?"
"Come with me," Eldric said. His eyes lingered briefly on the little girl. "There's a place still safe from the Dominion's reach."
Edith drew Olivia protectively close. "Where?"
"Beyond the veil," Eldric murmured. "Where even shadows lose their name."
Leofric's tone hardened. "No. We can't trust anyone."
Eldric smiled faintly. "It isn't trust you lack… it's hope."
The room fell silent—until a small, steady voice spoke.
"Let's follow the old man."
All eyes turned. Olivia was awake, her gaze calm but distant.
Leofric's heart twisted. "Olivia…"
"Let's go," she repeated softly.
Edith touched Leofric's arm. "Maybe she's right. It's better to walk with someone who knows the way than wait for death to find us."
Leofric sighed, defeated. "Fine. Lead the way."
Eldric's lips curved into a thin smile. "Then hold fast."
He disappeared briefly and returned holding a small satchel—and a glowing crystal pulsing with blue light. Runes shimmered across its surface like moving starlight.
Leofric's sword flashed from its sheath. "What is that?"
"A spatial crystal," Eldric said calmly. "It opens paths between realms. Unless you'd rather stay."
"Where did you get it?" Leofric demanded.
"I forged it," Eldric replied simply. "I craft more than blades."
Leofric hesitated, then sheathed his sword. "Let's go."
They stepped into the cool night. The moon hung high over the village, pale and watchful. Eldric led them through the empty streets until they reached a clearing beyond the last cottage.
"Here will do," he murmured.
The crystal in his hand began to hum, light flickering like a heartbeat. The ground trembled. Edith gasped as a shimmering circle formed in the air—rippling like water suspended in light.
"What's happening?" she cried.
"The doorway opens," Eldric said, his voice distant. "Step through, and the Dominion will lose your trail."
Leofric looked back—smoke rose faintly from the horizon. Soldiers were coming.
"Decide," Eldric warned. "Stay, and the past will claim you. Step forward, and perhaps the world will change."
Leofric's gaze met Edith's. Then he took her hand. Together, they stepped into the light.
The crystal flared, swallowing them whole.
The night fell silent once more. Only the faint shimmer of magic lingered—and then was gone.
---
Meanwhile… in the Drakthar Dominion
The obsidian hall of Emberhold loomed vast and silent. Crimson banners hung like dried blood from the black stone walls.
King Kaelen Veynar sat upon his throne—a dark marvel of steel and bone. Ministers stood in trembling silence before him.
"You failed," Kaelen said, voice soft but sharp as a blade.
Minister Garrick fell to his knees. "My lord, I beg you—give me time—"
Kaelen rose. His armor gleamed like liquid shadow. "Time?" he mused. "I gave the world time, Minister. It repaid me with defiance."
He drew a sword from the guard beside him—a dark blade veined with crimson fire. The hall filled with its whispering hum.
"The Fire Crystal belongs to Drakthar," he said coldly. "And to me."
The next sound was the quiet sigh of steel cutting flesh. Then silence.
Kaelen wiped the blade clean and turned to his council. "Let his death remind you. The crown of Emberhold is not sustained by mercy."
A cloaked figure emerged from the corner shadows. "Shall I summon the hunters, my king?"
"Yes," Kaelen said, lowering himself back onto the throne. "The girl lives. The map may yet breathe through her blood."
He smiled—a thin, cruel curve. "Find her. Burn the world if you must."
The torches flickered as though bowing to him, and the hall filled with the echo of his last words:
"The Fire Crystal answers only to the King of Drakthar."