The Grove had never been so still.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, the shimmering leaves frozen mid-whisper. Seren stood at the forest's edge beside Thane and Iri, the faint pulse of the River-Heart crystal warm against her chest. The patrol had returned only moments ago; her heart still raced from the thrill of learning to read the wind and water's dance. Yet beneath the song of nature, something wrong hummed — faint, distant, but growing closer.
Eldra emerged from the central glade, her eyes aglow with emerald light. "Do you feel it?" she asked softly. "The Flow recoils."
"Yes," Seren murmured. "It feels… sharp."
The air shimmered — once, twice — like sunlight reflecting from broken glass. Then came the sound: faint, melodic humming. A woman's voice.
From the far mist between the ancient trees, two figures walked forward with unhurried grace.
The first was a woman draped in white and gold, her gown cascading like moonlight over marble. Her hair was pale, almost silver, adorned with pearls that caught the dawn. Around her right arm circled a set of amber stones, levitating, rotating gently like a constellation. Each orb pulsed with a heartbeat of golden fire — magic condensed, unnatural and cruelly beautiful.
The second figure loomed a few steps behind her: tall, silent, armored in black that seemed to drink in the light. His helm was gone, revealing a pale, hollow face marked by sleepless eyes and shadows carved beneath them. He carried a greatsword whose edges glowed faintly with the same amber hue, as if the weapon itself hungered.
Seren took a step back. The Flow recoiled harder, whispering warnings that prickled across her skin.
The woman smiled — delicate, serene. "Ah… so it's true." Her voice rang like crystal chimes. "The lost daughter of the Flow. How radiant you are, child."
Eldra stepped forward, her staff thrumming with green light. "You have no right to be here. Leave this place."
"Leave?" the woman echoed, tilting her head. "Oh, Elder of the Grove, I think you misunderstand." She placed a hand over her heart and curtsied lightly. "I am Seraphine Valeheart, Saint of the Radiant Order. I come on behalf of the Church of the New Light."
Her amber stones brightened, spiraling faster around her arm like fireflies in orbit. "We seek only what was taken from the Light — the girl."
Thane's spear rose. "You'll find no lost lamb here."
Seraphine's laughter drifted like perfume — sweet, melodic, and utterly wrong. The ground beneath her shimmered and cracked as thin fractures of glass began to spread outward from her feet.
"Oh," she said softly, "but the Light always finds what belongs to it."
She snapped her fingers.
The world screamed.
Glass erupted from the ground like blooming flowers, sharp and dazzling, reflecting the grove's golden canopy in hundreds of shards. The Guardians scattered — Kael summoned walls of stone to intercept the slicing tendrils, Miren ignited spirals of flame to melt the shards midair.
Seren gasped — each fragment that fell sang with a strange resonance, the Flow's energy twisted inside them.
From behind Seraphine, the knight moved — silent, precise. Gravemorn. His greatsword descended in a slow, effortless arc, and the very weight of the world seemed to shift.
The earth buckled. Trees bent. Seren staggered as gravity twisted sideways for a heartbeat, forcing her to the ground.
Eldra shouted a command, her voice splitting through the chaos: "Guard the child!"
Thane launched into the air, wind whirling around him like blades, while Iri called water from the nearby stream, turning it into glimmering serpents that lashed toward the intruders. Seraphine smiled at their defiance — and raised her arm.
The amber bracelet spun faster, faster, until it blurred into a ring of light. She spread her fingers — and the air itself became glass.
The Guardians' attacks reflected back at them. Thane's winds tore through his own ranks, Miren's flame split into mirrored tongues that scorched the forest floor, and Iri's water crashed against her own shield.
Seren cried out as the River-Heart pulsed violently against her chest, reacting to the distortion. She felt the Flow scream inside her mind — chaotic, disharmonic.
Seraphine twirled amid the storm of reflections, her laughter rising like a songbird's. "How delicate your power is… all beauty, no command. Tell me, child, did the Flow ever teach you to fight?"
Gravemorn's shadow fell across the field — his sword slammed into the ground, crushing roots and soil as gravity folded in on itself. The force rippled outward, knocking Kael to his knees and sending shards of glass spinning like a storm.
Seren struggled to breathe, pressing her palm over the glowing crystal. "Stop… please…"
The crystal flared, and for an instant — just an instant — the Flow answered.
A wave of pure light burst from Seren, not to attack, but to restore. The shattered air trembled. The glass warped, cracking under its own reflection. Seraphine froze mid-laugh as one of her amber stones shattered with a resonant chime.
Golden blood trickled from her palm. Her smile widened — slow, deranged, delighted.
"Oh, darling," she whispered, "you do shine after all."
She raised her hand to strike again.
-
"When false light burns the brightest, true hearts bleed the loudest."
The Grove screamed.
Where peace once hummed, now there was only the roar of breaking light. Trees that once glowed with gentle mana burst into fractal shards, their sap turning gold as it hit the ground. The very air splintered — reflections of reality folding and bending under Seraphine's laughter.
"Such pretty roots," the saint cooed, her amber bracelet spinning faster around her arm, each stone pulsing with artificial brilliance. "Let's see how deep they bleed."
Her voice was honey and venom, echoing through the clearing. With a flick of her wrist, the world cracked. Glass petals exploded outward in a blinding wave, slicing through vines and soil alike.
Eldra's voice rose above the chaos. "To the caverns! Get the children to the springs—NOW!"
Roots erupted from the ground, forming tunnels as Kael and Iri guided the villagers. The air trembled with protective spells as Miren summoned walls of flame to divert falling debris.
Seren ran beside Althea, helping to lead a group of younglings through the twisting pathways of light and earth. The children cried as the Grove's song turned to wails — its mana bleeding gold through the roots.
"Eldra," Althea gasped, "how did they find us? The Veil should've hidden the Grove for a century!"
The elder's expression was grim, her staff glowing with verdant light. "They've learned to mimic the Flow. Those amber stones — they pulse at the same frequency as the world's heart. They listened to us… and followed the sound."
Before Althea could answer, a thunderous crash split the clearing.
Gravemorn stepped through the wreckage, dragging his greatsword behind him. The ground bent and cracked beneath his boots. Gravity bowed to him. His armor pulsed with dull orange veins — amber stones grafted into the metal like scars.
Eldra's roots surged upward to entangle him — but he raised his blade, and the world inverted. The vines shot upward, then crashed down, torn apart by the force. Kael staggered, coughing blood.
"Go!" Eldra commanded, pushing her staff into the soil. "I'll hold the passage!"
Althea turned, eyes blazing with fury. "No. We fight."
Her mother's voice was low, steady — like thunder waiting to fall. "You forget what we are, Eldra. We were hunters before we were healers."
Althea drew her sigil blade — ancient and sleek, etched with runes of the old tongue. The River-Heart at her daughter's neck began to glow in answer.
Seraphine's eyes lit up in delight. "Oh, I do love a reunion. The Vale women, dancing in defiance."
She lifted her hand — shards of glass formed midair, spiraling into a crown above her head. With a motion as graceful as a prayer, she sent them flying like a thousand silver arrows.
"DOWN!" Miren shouted, hurling flames in a wide arc. Fire met glass — the shards melted into molten rain, dripping gold onto the roots.
Iri spun beside her, water streaming from his hands in ribbons that hardened into mirrors, reflecting the amber light away. The air crackled as Thane appeared in a blur, wind lashing around him to push back the shrapnel storm.
Yet Seraphine only laughed, her amber bracelet glowing brighter. "You think your elements matter? I've turned the world itself into glass."
She twirled — and the ground became transparent. Beneath their feet, reflections of themselves fought in reverse, trapped in mirrored mockery. The Grove's roots screamed as their image shattered.
Gravemorn moved next — silent as a shadow. He swung his sword, and the world bent around its arc. Kael's massive oak shield snapped like twigs under the crushing pressure. Miren screamed as gravity forced her to her knees, blood running from her nose.
"Enough!" Althea raised her blade. A pulse of blue-white light erupted from it, cutting through the crushing field. Her voice carried ancient power. "By the river's memory, return to balance!"
The air exploded — water spiraling outward in a glowing ring, colliding with Gravemorn's gravity wave. For a moment, the world paused — then shattered into motion. Trees were uprooted, the soil turned to dust.
Seraphine's gown fluttered in the storm. She watched, amused. "How quaint. You speak to water, while I command reflection itself."
She spread her arms wide — shards rose from the ground, forming wings of glass behind her. Her amber stones burned like miniature suns.
Seren stood frozen at the edge of the clearing, heart pounding as the Flow cried out through her veins. She could feel the Grove dying — its heartbeat weakening, its memory dimming.
Her mother's voice reached her through the chaos. "Seren! The Heartroot — protect it!"
Seren turned toward the center of the Grove, where a great crystalline trunk pulsed faintly with light. The Heartroot — the living core of the sanctuary. Cracks already spread across its base, bleeding mana like lifeblood.
Eldra was there, pushing the last of the villagers into the caverns, her body shaking with strain. "Go, child! Keep it alive!"
But Seraphine's laughter filled the air again — a sound like breaking bells.
"You think the Flow will save you, Listener? It will drown you instead."
Her hand extended, and the amber bracelet pulsed. The air bent inward — light refracted, concentrating into a single beam aimed directly at Seren.
Time slowed.
Seren felt everything — the hum beneath her skin, the heartbeat of the roots, the breath of the water, the tears of the wind.
She reached out.
The River-Heart blazed.
The Flow answered.
A surge of blue light erupted from Seren's body — water spiraling upward in a massive vortex, carrying fragments of light and roots and life itself. It struck Seraphine's attack head-on — and for a heartbeat, the false light faltered.
Amber cracked. Shards of glass fell like rain.
Seraphine staggered, her perfect smile twisting with rage. "You—"
Before she could finish, Althea appeared behind her, blade shimmering. She slashed in a wide arc — the blow connecting, slicing through the edge of Seraphine's dress and tearing the amber bracelet. One of its stones shattered, spilling molten gold onto the ground.
Seraphine screamed — a sound not of pain, but fury. Gravemorn appeared instantly, grabbing her by the waist as the air warped around them. The amber stones flared once more — and with a single pulse of gravity, the world imploded.
Then — silence.
When the light faded, they were gone.
Only ruin remained.
The Grove's roots smoldered, its rivers dark with ash and gold. The air tasted of glass dust and sorrow. Eldra collapsed to her knees beside the wounded Heartroot, pressing her palms to it.
"It bleeds," she whispered. "The Grove bleeds."
Seren knelt beside her, tears streaming. The River-Heart dimmed, pulsing faintly — exhausted, but alive.
Althea sheathed her blade slowly, eyes fixed on the horizon where Seraphine vanished. "This isn't over. They've marked us now."
Eldra's gaze was heavy, ancient, filled with mourning. "Then we must move. The Flow will guide us… but the Church will not rest."
Seren looked toward the broken trees, the golden sap glowing like dying stars. Her voice trembled.
"Then neither will I."