Varkas and Kára emerged from the tunnel.
The beach stretched before them, bathed in the light of dawn. The sea was empty. The ship no longer existed.
And there, lying in the sand, with the water lapping at his boots, was Darian.
Vael curled on his chest, whimpering. Darian had his forearm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell with a broken, gasping rhythm, as if he couldn't get enough air.
Varkas dropped to his knees.
There was no need to say anything. They had arrived too late.
Kára remained standing, her hammer hanging limp from her hand. She looked at the empty horizon. Then at Darian. Then at Varkas.
No one said a word.
Only the sea broke against the shore.
Darian didn't move. Vael pressed tighter against his chest, as if he could absorb the pain that overflowed from him.
Varkas slowly sat up and held out a hand.
The boy looked at it without seeing it. Then, slowly, he took it. Varkas pulled him to his feet.
Darian staggered. Vael jumped to his shoulder.
"We need to go back," Varkas murmured.
Darian nodded without energy.
Kára started walking without saying anything.
The return to Khazad-Gor was a silence broken only by the wind.
Darian walked behind, his gaze fixed on the ground. Vael brushed his cheek every now and then, but he didn't react.
Varkas went ahead. Every so often he touched his chest, where the Grimoire had fused with him. He didn't understand what it was. He didn't ask.
Kára guided them without speaking. There was no need.
They reached the city gates at nightfall.
Borin saw them walk into the inn and knew something serious had happened.
He didn't ask. He served three mugs of thick beer and a hot stew. Darian sat in a corner, with Vael in his lap. He didn't touch the food.
"And the half-elf?" Borin asked quietly to Kára.
"They took her," she replied. "The elves. Lord Aelthas."
Borin scratched his beard.
"Lord Aelthas... I've heard that name. He lives in the heart of the Elven Kingdom. Not easy to reach."
"I know," said Kára. "That's why we need information."
Borin nodded slowly.
"There's not much here. But in Khazad-Val..." He paused. "There's a group of elven refugees there. They fled the Elven Kingdom years ago. They'll know how to get in. And they might know something about Lord Aelthas."
Darian looked up.
"Khazad-Val?"
His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in days.
"Several days north," said Kára.
Darian nodded. Just that. Then he looked back down at Vael.
Borin got up and came back with a bag of provisions and a map.
"This will serve you well. Leave at dawn."
Kára took the map. Varkas nodded. Darian said nothing.
That night, Darian didn't sleep.
He sat on the bed, with Vael curled beside him. In his hands, Aria's note. He held it for a while without reading it. He already knew it by heart.
You trusted me. And I failed you.
He closed his eyes. He didn't cry. He had nothing left.
Only emptiness.
At dawn, they gathered at Khazad-Gor's north gate.
Borin handed them the provisions and the map. An arm-clasp. No farewells.
"Khazad-Val is to the north," said Kára. "Follow the Winter Road."
Varkas nodded. Darian, with Vael on his shoulder, stayed silent.
They set out.
The path wound into the mountains. The air grew colder. Snow began to cover the road. The landscape turned white.
Darian walked behind. He didn't talk. He didn't look up. He just put one foot in front of the other.
Behind him lay the sea. Behind him lay the beach where Aria had gone forever.
Ahead, the mountains. The cold. And a promise he still didn't know if he could keep.
Vael curled against his neck. A faint warmth, the only one he had left.
The wind blew from the north, icy and sharp.
And Darian kept walking.