What does that mean?
Finally, Mavyrn turns to me. Her eyes seem to pierce right through me, seeing more than I want to reveal. “Elyssara, you are more than the Lightborne—do not forget that,” she says, stepping closer. “Your path is not an easy one, and betrayal often comes from the places we trust most. Be vigilant.”
The words send a shiver down my spine, but I nod, swallowing hard. I don’t know what to say, so I simply stay quiet.
“Now,” Mavyrn says, clapping her hands once, breaking the tension. “Gather yourselves. The Gateway won’t hold forever.”
Kael steps forward first, his movements confident and purposeful. The threads of the Gateway ripple as he approaches, almost like they’re alive, responding to him. He pauses just before stepping in and turns to me, his blue eyes steady.
“Ready yourselves on the other side—we don’t know what’s waiting for us,” he says. And then he’s gone, the threads swallowing him in a burst of light.
Therion follows, his steps grudging but firm. The threads seem to tighten around him, and I catch the faintest flicker of unease on his face before he disappears.
Ronyn winks at me as he steps forward. “See you on the other side, El.” He vanishes into the light, the hum of the Gateway shifting faintly as he passes through.
Seren hesitates, her eyes wide as she looks from me to Mavyrn. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
Mavyrn places a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, child. The Gateway knows who you are, even if you don’t.”
Seren eyes her warily, but nods, her movements stiff, and stepsinto the circle. The threads shimmer around her before she vanishes like the others.
I’m the last. I rise slowly, my leg still weak, but my determination steady. I glance at Mavyrn, searching her face for the softness beneath her thorns. Needing the assurance of someone who stands to gain nothing from me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, and I mean it.
Mavyrn smiles, the warmth in it unexpected but genuine. “You’ll do great things, Elyssara. But remember—greatness always comes at a price.”
I step into the circle, the threads shifting around me like silk brushing against my skin. The hum grows louder, the air thick with energy. For a moment, I feel weightless, untethered. And then the light swallows me whole, and the world falls away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ELYSSARA
I feel sick. travelingby a Gateway of Threads is akin to being far too deep in my cups at the tavern, and my stomach lurches with every phantom twist and turn. I’m certain Mavyrn would disapprove of my conduct, as I’ve cursed the infernal thing more times than I can count.
The Gateway spits me out without warning, tossing me unceremoniously onto the ground with a force that rattles my teeth.
Not overly graceful, Elyssara.
Ronyn’s goofy, lopsided grin greets me as I scramble to my feet. It’s the same grin that stole my heart all those summers ago in that Virellin alley, the one that promises everything will somehow be okay. Seren almost knocks me over with a fierce embrace, her wild blonde hair obscuring my vision as she clings to me for dear life.
Therion and Kael, however, are ready for anything. Weapons drawn, they’ve already turned their backs to us, their movements deliberate and silent. Therion edges forward, his body taut as a bowstring, his Aetherstride magic rolling off him in waves. Small, precise hand signals pass between him and Kael, a secret language honed over years of fighting side by side. They’re completely at ease in this moment, two predators moving as one.
I tuck Seren behind me and bring my fingers to my lips, signaling her to stay silent. As I fall into step behind Therion and Kael, I unsheathe my daggers, the well-worn hilts steadying my hands. Every step feels heavier than it should. It’s not the first time I’ve walked into the unknown, but this is different. This is the prophecy’s first test.My test. The air hums with an unspoken weight, and the sharp edge of inevitability presses against my skin.
Therion halts, signaling for us to stay put, and directs Ronyn to a higher point. Ronyn climbs to the nearby rocky outcrop, taking a vantage point with his bow, his movements swift and practiced. Therion seems to trust him with this, and I appreciate the strategy and the small sign that perhaps Therion isn’t always a giant asshole.
Seren and I crouch behind a jagged boulder, the cold stone pressing against my back as I glance at her. Her spine is straight, brows furrowed in determination, but her trembling hands are unmistakable.
For the first time since tumbling out of the Gateway, I take in our surroundings.
Lyssar Temple rises from the rugged cliffs of Mount Lyssar like an ancient guardian, its spires piercing the sky. The temple appears to be carved directly from the mountain, its walls textured with intricate etchings that shimmer faintly in the dim light. Symbols of long-forgotten lore intertwine with constellations, their meanings a mystery I’m not yet privy to.
The air here feels alive, charged with an energy that prickles against my skin. Stone steps, worn smooth by time, wind upward toward a massive archway framed by twisted columns. Statues of mythical beasts flank the entrance, their eyes sharp and otherworldly, as though they see through to the marrow of my soul. I can’t decide if this place feels divine or terrifying.
A tug in my chest pulls my gaze toward the temple. It’s faint at first, a gentle nudge, but it grows stronger with each passing moment. It’s not just the temple calling to me—it’s something inside it. The blade, I realize, my breath catching in my throat. The blade is here, and it knows me. It calls to me. The pull is magnetic, undeniable, as though an invisible thread has tethered us together.
Beneath the temple where fears take form,
