The Observatory Tower stairs had never felt longer.
Each step echoed in the silence, a heartbeat counting down to something I couldn't name. The seed in my pocket pulsed warm against my thigh, as if sensing the weight of what waited above.
Midnight. The tower of stars. Alone.
I should have brought the others. Vance's blade. Mira's instincts. Dorn's shield. Elara's prayers. But the note had been clear, and something in its words had felt... true. Dangerous, but true.
The door at the top was slightly ajar. Light spilled through the crack—not torchlight, but the cool silver of starlight amplified by the tower's crystals.
I pushed it open.
The figure standing at the edge wasn't who I expected.
Not Light. Not Eve. Not any of the Five.
A woman. Older, perhaps fifty, with silver-streaked hair and eyes that held the weight of secrets. She wore simple robes, unadorned, but her presence filled the room like a physical force.
"You came." Her voice was warm, weary, relieved. "I wasn't sure you would."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Elara Vane." She saw my reaction and smiled sadly. "Yes. That Vane. Mira's aunt. My brother's sister."
I didn't move. Didn't speak. The conspiracy. House Vane. Mira's father. And now an aunt appearing in secret—
"I'm not your enemy, Roy White. I'm not anyone's enemy. I'm just... the last one trying to clean up my family's mess." She gestured to a seat near the edge. "Please. Sit. I have much to tell you, and little time."
I didn't sit. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I know about the seed in your pocket. The Heartwood. The Greenwarden. Kaelan's journal." She met my eyes. "And I know about the Sylvan Circuit."
The world stopped.
No one knew about the Sylvan Circuit. No one except me and the dead. Not even my party.
"How?"
"Because I helped Kaelan." She turned to look out at the stars. "Three hundred years ago, I was his student. His lover. His partner in heresy." Her voice caught. "When the Academy condemned his research, when they drove him out, I stayed. I pretended to renounce everything we'd built. I married into House Vane, bore children, played the role of loyal noble wife. All while watching, waiting, hoping someone would come who could finish what we started."
She faced me. "You're that someone, Roy. I've watched you since you entered the Academy. The way you speak to plants, to ancient things, to the very soul of the world. You're not just Kaelan's heir. You're something more."
I shook my head, reeling. "This is... this can't be..."
"Real?" She smiled. "Oh, it's real. As real as the conspiracy you're hunting. As real as the traitors in this Academy." She reached into her robe and withdrew a folded document. "Here. Proof. Names, dates, meetings. Everyone connected to the Necromancer's infiltration."
I took it, my hands shaking. The list was longer than I'd imagined. Proctors. Nobles. Even a member of the Academy's ruling council.
"Why now?" I asked. "Why reveal yourself now?"
"Because Malachar isn't just an acolyte." Her voice dropped. "He's the Necromancer's son. Created through forbidden rituals, infused with his master's essence. He's been alive for centuries, watching, waiting, learning. And he knows about you, Roy. He knew about you before you ever entered the Academy. Before you ever left Whitefall."
My blood turned to ice. "How?"
"The same way you know about the future, I suspect." She looked at me with those ancient, knowing eyes. "The timeline isn't fixed. Prophecies can be wrong. But some things... some things echo. Malachar has been dreaming of you for years. A boy with green in his soul, growing where nothing should grow. He's been searching for you since before you were born."
I thought of the whispers in the Grove. The way Malachar had looked at me—not with curiosity, but with recognition.
"He wants to recruit me."
"He wants to consume you." Elara Vane stepped closer. "Your Sylvan Circuit, your connection to ancient things, your ability to grow where others can't—he wants to take it all. Use it to accelerate his master's plans. With your power, the seal on the Dark Forest could be broken in weeks, not months."
I gripped the list, my knuckles white. "Then I'll stop him."
"How? You're C-rank. Support class. You have a party of misfits and a headmaster who trusts you, but Malachar has centuries of experience, the backing of the Necromancer, and allies in every corner of this Academy."
I met her eyes. "I have the Heartwood seed. I have the Greenwarden's blessing. I have Kaelan's journal and your list. And I have people who believe in me."
She studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, she smiled.
"Kaelan was right about you. You're exactly what he hoped would come." She reached out and touched my cheek—a gesture so motherly it almost broke me. "Plant the seed, Roy. Plant it where the darkness is strongest. And when it grows, you'll have an ally even Malachar can't defeat."
"Where is that? Where's the darkness strongest?"
"The Academy's foundations. Beneath the main hall, in the oldest chambers. That's where the original corruption was stored, where the first experiments with blight took place. That's where Malachar has been hiding, feeding on the residual energy, growing stronger." She pressed something else into my hand—a small key, cold and ancient. "This opens the sealed door. Use it wisely."
I closed my fingers around it. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." She walked toward a hidden door I hadn't noticed. "Thank me when you've saved this world from the darkness. Thank me when my niece survives to see peace." She paused at the threshold. "Tell Mira... tell her I'm sorry. For everything. And that I've always been proud of her."
She was gone before I could respond.
I stood alone in the tower, the stars wheeling overhead, the weight of a world in my hands.
The gardener had found his garden.
Now he had to defend it.
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