The northern wind bit sharply at Elara's cheeks as she and Ashen trudged along the snow-dusted path. The frozen cliffs loomed above them, jagged and unyielding, their shadows stretching long across the drifting snow.
Each step left a fleeting imprint, soon swallowed by the wind, as if the world itself wanted their passage erased.
Elara adjusted the hood of her gray cloak, violet hair tucked beneath it. She stole a glance at Ashen, his cloak flaring behind him like a shadow, steady, calm, unnervingly aware.
"You've been walking in silence for too long,"she said, her voice teasing, though laced with genuine curiosity. "What are you thinking about?"
Ashen's eyes flicked toward her, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips. "I was wondering if you're ready for what awaits at the end of this path."
"Ready?"she scoffed softly. "After months of running, hiding, and trying to unravel a curse I barely understand… ready isn't even in my vocabulary."
He shrugged lightly, eyes scanning the horizon. "Then maybe it's time you rewrite your vocabulary."
Elara's lips twitched in a humorless smile.
Her gaze drifted to the ruins ahead, perched atop the ridge like a sentinel over forgotten centuries.
Faint amber light flickered from the upper windows, though whether it was firelight or some lingering magic she could not tell.
"That must be it," Ashen said, pointing. "We're close."
"Close to what?"she asked, curiosity sharpening, suspicion rising.
He let out a soft chuckle. "Something that's been waiting for you longer than you realize."
The citadel rose like a frozen monument of memory and silence. Snow swirled around the stones, whispering secrets from long ago.
Elara's pulse quickened, not from the cold, but from the weight of anticipation, from the sense that every step closer was a step into truths she had been denied all her life.
Ashen walked beside her, measured and deliberate, but something about the way he moved tonight, how his eyes lingered on every shadow, every rune carved into the stone, made her realize he knew far more than he let on.
Far more than he had revealed.
"You've been awfully quiet," she said softly. "Not just now, but… all the time. You see things. Know things that I don't. How?"
His eyes flickered with silver flecks in the fading light. "I told you. I'm not just a mercenary. But some things… are only safe to reveal when the other person is ready to understand them."
Elara's gaze narrowed.
Patterns surfaced in her mind: how he anticipated threats, how he knew the safest paths before she even noticed danger, how he understood her reactions better than she did herself.
"You're hiding something," Elara said slowly, carefully. "Something massive. Why now? Why suddenly offer help?"
Ashen softened, yet remained cryptic. "Because some truths cannot wait. Because someone has been waiting to guide you toward them."
"Someone?" Her voice dropped, cautious. "Who?"
He shook his head, eyes scanning the ruins, unmoving, unwavering. "Not yet. First… survive tonight."
Inside, the citadel was a cathedral of dust and forgotten magic.
Golden runes shimmered faintly along the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat, resonating through the very stones. Elara reached out, fingertips grazing a tome covered in the same sigil as the one on her wrist.
"This… this is mine?" she whispered, awe touching fear.
Ashen stepped closer, calm as ever. "Your bloodline isn't ordinary. These sigils, these markings… they're memories, echoes, waiting for someone to awaken them."
Her hands trembled as she traced the symbols. "Awaken… how? And why now? Why wasn't I told before?"
He gave that same half-smile, secretive and maddening. "Because knowing too much too soon can break a person. The mind isn't ready until the body and will can survive it."
Elara's pulse raced. "You know more than you're letting on."
"I know enough,"he said, voice low, almost a whisper. "And you'll need all of it. Every piece of knowledge will be vital for what's coming."
She moved through the chamber, stepping over rubble, running her fingers along dusted shelves.
Scrolls and tomes hummed faintly, alive with runic energy. A drawing caught her eye, an old carriage teetering over a cliff.
"That… mother," she murmured, voice tight. "I was told she died when I was five. But I believe otherwise. I know for a fact that my mother is still alive. It's just a matter of where she is. That's all I know."
She dared not disclose more, especially since all the information she possessed about her mother came from her past lives. She couldn't reveal it, not until she was certain Ashen could be trusted.
Ashen looked directly into Elara's eyes, his gaze steady and softened. "What you were told may be only part of the truth. The more you uncover, the closer you get to those who've been hiding it all from you."
A faint tremor shivered through the floor. A click echoed sharply. Elara froze.
"Trap," Ashen said softly, drawing his sword. "Stay behind me."
A panel slid open, revealing a narrow passage. Shadows flickered, torchlight dancing within.
Her heart thundered. "Who... what is that?"
Ashen's voice was steady, unflinching. "A test of the guardians. We either prove our worth… or fail. Ready?"
Elara swallowed, gripping her cloak. "I was born ready."
His hand brushed hers as they stepped forward, a fleeting touch, grounding her in a moment of shared purpose.
He nodded. "Good. That's all I ask."
The passage ahead was dark, cold, yet in the blackness, hope stirred in Elara's chest for the first time in months. Somewhere in the ruins, secrets older than life itself awaited, and she was finally walking toward them.