The silver bark of the shattered tree was warm to the touch. As Elaria pressed her palm against it, a hollow pulse echoed beneath her skin, and light flickered through the roots like veins awakening.
A stone bowl appeared at the witch's feet, filling with liquid the color of moonlight and blood.
"Drink," the witch said.
Elaria hesitated, but Kael's voice reached her, quiet and steady.
"I'm right here."
She drank.
The taste was strange—bitter at first, then sweet, then burning. Her vision blurred. Her knees gave out.
And then the world split open.
Flashes—screams, war, a castle in flames.
A crying baby wrapped in royal blue.
A woman with golden hair whispering, "You'll be the light that breaks the darkness."
A boy with silver eyes, reaching for her hand in the middle of a battlefield.
"You promised," he whispered. "You promised you'd come back."
Elaria gasped and fell backward, eyes wide, chest heaving.
Kael caught her before she hit the ground.
"You remember," he said softly.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "We knew each other. Before the curse."
His expression darkened. "We were soul-bound. And the curse was meant to break us apart before we grew strong enough to destroy it."
Elaria wiped her tears, anger rising beneath the grief. "Who cast it?"
The witch stepped forward. "The queen of the Sun Throne. Your mother's sister. She feared the prophecy… and betrayed your bloodline to stop it."
Elaria's hands clenched into fists.
Everything she'd known was a lie.
And now, the only way to survive…
Was to finish what the prophecy started.