"Of course you can," I say, keeping my voice neutral even as my fingers itch to help. "But you don't have to."
Kaia hesitates, her pride warring with exhaustion in the set of her shoulders. Finally, she nods, allowing us to help her toward the pool. Her shadows drift ahead, Bob and Carl testing the water's edge with ghostly tendrils.
"We'll be right outside," Torric says, his gruff tone belying the gentleness with which he hands her a stack of soft towels. "Call if you need anything."
I add a vial of concentrated healing salts to the pile. "A capful every fifteen minutes. They'll amplify the pool's restorative properties."
Kaia manages a tired smile, small but real. "Thank you. Both of you."
We step out, giving her privacy. The moment the door closes, Torric's shoulders drop, composure cracking like ice under pressure.
"She's pushing too hard," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "At this rate, she'll burn out before we even reach Absentia."
I lean against the wall, letting out a slow breath that carries more worry than I want to admit. "I know. But we can't exactly tie her down and force her to rest."
"Want to bet?" Torric's golden eyes glint with a flash of his usual mischief, but it fades quickly, replaced by the weight I feel pressing against my own ribs. "She's not ready for this, Aspen. None of us are."
The reality of what we're facing settles over us like a physical thing. Absentia. The word alone brings cold sweat to my palms. A realm of nightmares and forgotten things, where reality bends and breaks. And we're willingly walking into it because the alternative is worse.
"We don't have a choice," I say softly. "If we don't stop the corruption from spreading…"
Torric nods grimly. "I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
We fall into tense silence, each lost in thoughts too heavy to voice. The gentle hum of healing magic seeps through the door, a counterpoint to the fears crowding my mind.
After what feels like hours but is likely only minutes, Torric speaks again. "Do you think her shadows will be enough? In Absentia, I mean."
I consider the question carefully. Kaia's shadow magic is powerful, but Absentia is… unpredictable. Especially for her shadows like Bob and the others who've been with her through everything. "I don't know," I admit. "But Bob and the others have been protecting Kaia since before she even knew who she was. That kind of loyalty doesn't just vanish, even in a place like Absentia."
As if summoned by our discussion, a tendril of shadow seeps beneath the door. The shadow Carl, I think, his energy is always a little more chaotic, gestures urgently then points back toward the door.
Torric and I exchange a glance before pushing through. The sight that greets us hollows me out.
Kaia is curled into herself in the violet-tinged water, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Her shadows swirl around her protectively, but even they seem diminished, flickering like candles in a draft. The healing salts float untouched on the surface, forgotten in whatever storm is breaking inside her.
My chest tightens, throat closing around words that won't come. I've seen Kaia face nightmare creatures without flinching. Watched her bend shadows to her will with fierce determination. But this vulnerability, this glimpse of the weight she carries, it breaks something in me I didn't know was whole.
We approach carefully, our footsteps echoing in the cavernous room. The steam carries the scent of lavender and something wilder—a hint of shadow magic, perhaps, or simply the essence of Kaia herself.
She lifts her head as we reach the pool's edge. Her violet eyes, usually so vibrant with life and stubbornness, are red-rimmed and swimming with unshed tears. For a moment, I don't see the formidable Valkyrie with an army of shadows, but a young woman drowning under too many expectations.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice raw. "I didn't mean to… I just…" Her words scatter like leaves, lost in a fresh wave of tears.
Without hesitation, Torric and I step into the pool, clothes and all. The enchanted water swirls around us, warm and tingling with restorative magic that seeps into my own tired muscles—a quiet reminder of how much we've all been pushing ourselves.
Kaia watches us approach, walls of sarcasm and bravado stripped bare. There's a question in her eyes, a vulnerability that clutches at my heart with cold fingers. She's giving us permission, I realize. Letting us see her at her lowest. Trusting us with something she never shows.
I reach her first, gently pulling her into my arms. She stiffens for a moment, then melts against me, her tears soaking into my shirt. Torric settles beside her, his hand finding her back in slow, steady circles.
"It's okay," I murmur, running my fingers through her damp hair. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with us."
Her shadows drift closer, no longer sharp-edged formations but soft things seeking comfort. Bob, usually so dignified, wraps around my wrist like a child seeking reassurance. Carl nestles against Torric's shoulder, a dark patch against his golden skin.
"I'm scared," she admits, her voice muffled against my chest. "Absentia… what if I can't control my shadows there? What if I'm not strong enough?"
I hold her closer as Torric's hand stills on her back. "Listen to me," my brother says, his voice rough with emotion. "Your strength isn't just about controlling shadows. It's about bringing light to the darkest places, and you do that just by being you."
A small sound escapes her, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Her shadows ripple in response, and I feel Bob pat my arm awkwardly, as if offering comfort for comforting her. The gesture is so perfectly Bob that I have to fight a smile despite the ache in my chest.
