The fire crackled low in the clearing. Leiya crushed the herbs with steady hands, the stone pestle grinding against the bowl in a quiet, constant rhythm.
The scent was sharp and bitter, but it helped keep her grounded.
Her ears stayed alert. Every snap of a twig, every shift in the wind made her tense. She had learned long ago that danger rarely announced itself loudly.
Then the explosion came.
A deep, violent sound tore across the land from the north. The ground trembled beneath her boots.
Leiya's head snapped up instantly, her body going rigid. That wasn't thunder. That was raw, careless power that shook the earth itself.
Her eyes immediately went to Kota.
He lay still beside the fire, breathing shallow and uneven. The sickness was leaking from him again, warping the air around his body like heat rising from scorched ground.
Even in sleep, the white streaks in his hair had spread further. His body was losing the fight to contain whatever was rotting inside him.
Leiya stared at him for a long moment, her chest tight.
We need to move, she thought. But he can't. Not like this.
Running would kill him. Staying might get them both killed.
She poured the finished mixture into a small iron pot and set it over the dying embers. The liquid turned a deep, murky purple as it simmered.
She sat down beside Kota, her back pressed against a cold moss covered stone, and let her eyes close for just a moment.
The present slipped away.
In the darkness behind her eyelids, she was holding a letter. The same worn parchment she had read countless times over the years. The ink had faded to a dull grey, but the words had never lost their weight.
Watch over my son. I trained you for this. Be his guardian. Don't let him be consumed. Show him the light.
Leiya had memorized every line. She had carried them like armor.
But the dream didn't stay gentle.
The air changed. The calm of the letter was ripped away by the roar of bells and the sound of shattering glass.
The Speedhardt estate was burning around her. Energy tore through the night. It shattered the stained glass of the high halls and turned the air into a furnace.
Leiya ran.
Her boots skidded on the polished floors. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
"Kota!"
The distance warped. No matter how fast she moved, the space bent against her. The Void was stretching the halls. It was folding reality just enough to keep her from reaching him. It was a labyrinth made of Koma's boredom.
Then she saw him.
Kalamity.
Blood soaked his chest. It was a jagged ruin where his heart should've been. Black and red lightning crawled across the shattered stone of the library. The very air seemed to weep from the pressure of his final stand.
His eyes found hers. They were clear, urgent, and devoid of fear.
Protect my son.
The words hit her like a blade to the chest.
Do not let him fall into the dark.
"No," she breathed.
She forced her legs to move as power surged through her veins. It was a desperate plea for speed.
The attack formed behind her. She felt the cold, indifferent aura of Koma. He was the eldest brother who had decided to become a god.
She reached Kota just as the force came down.
Light exploded.
Leiya threw herself over the boy. Her body was a shield. A defensive wind barrier flared up, raw and imperfect, fueled by pure desperation, but it was enough.
The impact tore into her back. Pain ripped through muscle and bone as if she were being flayed alive.
Kota was untouched.
The dream didn't end in victory. It dissolved into the weight of the years. It faded into the reality of the sickness that was now finishing what Koma's blades couldn't.
Dawn arrived quietly.
Pale, grey light crept into the clearing. It illuminated the frost on the grass. The fire had collapsed into a pile of white embers. Ash scattered where the flame once lived.
Leiya stirred.
Her body ached as she sat up. The memories of the estate clung to her like smoke, but her eyes went straight to Kota. He was still breathing. He was still alive.
Relief hit her hard enough to steal the air from her lungs.
She pressed a hand to her face, then looked toward the horizon. The air smelled as if the forest was burning from the explosion Koa had left behind.
"I won't fail you," she whispered.
The words weren't loud. They didn't need to be.
She wasn't speaking to a ghost. She was speaking to the boy lying beside her.
The same boy she had sworn to protect all those years ago. The same boy who was still fighting to survive every single day.
Whatever was coming through the Void, whatever was hunting them, it would have to go through her first.
She would not break that promise.
Not again.