“The more you resist, the more difficult the journey,” Tviracroons, and though I’d like to bury one of my daggers into her thigh, she’s right. I can’t escape this. And deep within, I don’t actually want to. I owe this to my family. I owe this to my bloodline.I owe this to Aevryn.
I nod curtly. Our farewell is simple. No ceremony. No blessing. Just a sharp incline and the soft rush of water echoing from the narrow tunnel ahead.
We move toward it—toward the cold, bottomless abyss that brought us in.
Back to the world above.
“Swim down. The threshold does the rest,” Nehvara explains, though it barely feels like one.
“Swim down,” Ronyn repeats, laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of the explanation. “Allow me, ladies and gentlemen... and Daelen, a god among men,” he quips before leaping head-first into the freezing waters, and swims down without another thought.
“He’s obviously a brilliant judge of character,” Daelen jokes, the grin on his face cocky and brazen. Then again, it almost always is.
“We’ll go,” Therion declares, reaching for Seren’s hand.
One by one, everyone leaps into the waters, and doesn’t return.
That has to be a good sign.
Kael kisses my forehead, “I know you need to do this alone, El.” He winks at me, “I love you.” Warmth blooms in my chest.
It’s just me. Me and these fucking waters and this godsdamned Gateway of Threads.
“What’s it going to be, Lightborne? Resist? Or free fall into the unknown?” Tvira probes.
I’ve waited for this prophecy for most of my life. I’ve starved in the streets of Virellin just to get a chance at doing precisely what I’m doing now. I’ve fought it at every turn—resenting the choices, the weight, the journey.But no more.
I walk to the water's edge, the chill from below licking at my feet. I stare into the dark chasm, and my own face stares back at me. My mother’s face. Her eyes. Her untamed hair. And her unbreakable spirit.
My unbreakable spirit.
I turn around, balancing delicately on the edge, and let myself go, free falling into the abyss. The waters rise to meet me like fate itself—cold, swift, inescapable.
I lock eyes with Tvira, and I swear I see her smile before the waters swallow me whole.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
ELYSSARA
I stumble to the ground,drenched and breathless, the waterfall thundering behind me like a gate slamming shut. My palms scrape wet rock, chest heaving. I glance back at the rune still glowing faintly beside the cascade.
I made it.
“Much faster this time, El. I’ve only been here about an hour, I’d say,” Ronyn calls out with a grin.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, though my voice is half-cough, half-wheeze—lost under the ripple of laughter that spreads through the group like wildfire.
Rhyven pushes forward, a crease between his brows. “Well, don’t just leave her on the ground—she’s the Dravari heir, for Star’s sake,” he snaps, fussing like an anxious steward. His movements are tight, and his tone is sharper than usual. Something’s got him wound up.
But one look at Kael, who’s still doubled over in laughter, and I can’t help it—I crack too, the tension sloughing off my shoulders like a deadweight.
“I’m okay, Rhy.Really.” I push to my feet, dripping and dizzy but standing.
“You look like you could do with some brask,” Rubi says, sauntering up like she didn’t just emerge from a death-defying magical Gateway. She holds out a battered flask, smug as sin.
“Rubi, are you fucking serious right now?” Therion barks, aghast.
“How in the Stars do youhavethat?” I gasp, laughter bubbling out of me, raw and uncontrolled.
