"He won’t," Elyria interrupted, her voice hardening. "Because we’ll move before then. We’ll bring the full weight of the Aether bond, of our dragons, and of the truth."
He studied her, his eyes fierce. "You’ve seen the ending, haven’t you?"
"I’ve seen two," she said quietly. "In one, the world burns. In the other, she saves us all.
She didn’t turn immediately. “Do you feel it?” she asked. “The air is shifting. Magic hums beneath the surface. It’s growing louder.”
“I do,” he said. “I’ve kept watch throughout the night. The veils between worlds feel thinner. They will come again soon.”
Elyria’s gaze did not lift. “No, they’ll strike harder, sharper, and this time, they will try to end the vision before it completes.”
Commander Dareth’s jaw tightened. “Do the dark forces know what’s coming, the prophecy?”
“They know only fragments,” Elyria replied, finally raising her gaze. “But fragments are enough. They know the Aether has awakened. They know Nyxariel lives. And they know the prime bond has formed. I had a vision last night, it was of the twin moons. One full with blood, the other eclipsed in shadow. The stars spun in the shape of the Watcher’s Eye, the Veil thinning, and there was The Celestial Storm that was prophesied.”
Commander Dareth looked up sharply. “You saw the signs?”
She nodded, slowly. “Five days from now, the celestial alignment will be complete. The old spell that sealed Aeromir will stir again.”
Commander Dareth’s voice was cautious, almost reverent. “You said before it’s when the eye opens, when flame and storm join beneath the moons.”
“And now they have,” Elyria murmured. “Thaelyn and Thorne. Vornokh and Nyxariel. Their bond is not just fated; it is an echo. A mirror of the ancient one that broke the world. And this time, the world may not survive its remaking.”
She stopped pacing and looked toward the east-facing window, where the horizon lay hidden behind fog and clouds. “They’ll strike me next,” Elyria said softly. I saw it clearly in the storm-dream.
Commander Dareth’s frown deepened. “You’re sure?”
“They failed to keep her. She escaped. Her power has already begun to awaken again. But me, I hold the keys they can’t find,the Watchers’ tongues, forgotten names, the Seer’s lineage, the deciphered prophecy’s full verse. I can guide her through it. Her voice turned grim, which made me the greatest threat. If they silence me, they erase her guide.”
Commander Dareth nodded solemnly. “That’s why I stayed behind. Not just to guard the academy, but to protect you. I have men stationed all around us and extra dragons in aerial range. Princess Aerisya, mounted on Arauthator, is leading that mission. She is strong and skilled. Her dragon has been in many battles.”
Her lips curved slightly, a ghost of warmth beneath steel resolve. “It was a wise choice, one that I don’t want to see go wrong, but itwas right. I am glad you didn’t ride tonight, old friend. I fear the days ahead will demand more of you than any war before; there is so much at stake.”
At that, Elyria walked back to the table and placed both hands flat upon the shimmering surface. The map’s light flickered and shifted beneath her palms, like the heartbeat of a great sleeping power.
“If we are to survive this,” she said, “We must move now. We must take Thaelyn to the Watcher’s Rise before the fifth night.”
“And if Kaen moves against you before then?”
She looked at him, unflinching. “Then you do what must be done.”
Outside, thunder rolled low against the mountains, as though the storm itself were listening.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
In the high sanctum of the Watcher’s Rise, light filtered through the circular stained-glass dome above, painting the white-marble floor in fractured halos of blue, gold, and amethyst. Sigils glowed inlaid into the stone, pulsing in rhythm with the heartbeat of Aether.
Thaelyn stood at the center, her robes of silver and dusk wrapped tightly to her form. Her hands, pale and trembling with quiet focus, hovered over the Aetherborne crystal on the altar. Each flicker of her breath guided the ancient energy into harmony, not control. It was not her power to command. It was the world’s to trust her with.
Beside her, the Watcher moved like a whisper. Neither man nor woman, but several beings in one, cloaked in folds of time-worn cloth that shimmered with iridescent echoes. The Watcher observed not with eyes, but with presence. Their voices came like wind through hollow trees.
"You are close to balance," they said. "But fear still binds your core. You cannot anchor the Veil if your soul remains divided."
Thaelyn exhaled slowly. Her eyes burned violet now more often than blue. Her voice, when she spoke, was steady. "I fear what I will become or that I won’t be enough."
The Watcher nodded. "As did Serenya. She shattered because she clung to what she was. You must become what the world needs, even if it breaks the shell of who you once believed yourself to be."
