The silence in Niah's apartment wasn't just quiet, it was heavy, pressing in on her from every side. She sat curled up on the living room floor, hugging her knees tight, still reeling from the vision that had just ripped through her. It clung to her, sticky and suffocating, like ash after a wildfire. Somewhere deep inside, the old fire, Esme's fire, still burned and soldered to her bones. But her hear felt like glass, ready to shatter with every shaky breath.
She used to be someone else. Someone powerful. Someone who mattered the most. But right now, she just felt lost. Completely and hopelessly lost.
Out of nowhere, a breeze swept through the room. The curtains fluttered, and then, just like that, a mist began to creep in. It didn't make sense, but it didn't care. It slipped through the cracks, curling around her like a secret, filling the space with a hush that felt almost sacred. Niah scrambled backward, heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst.
"Wha—" she started, but the words died in her throat with what she saw.
Two shapes took form in the mist. She knew them instantly.
Her breath caught. "...Mom?"
Her mother smiled, soft and glowing with that impossible golden light Niah remembered from her dreams or Esme's dreams.
"My heart," her Mom whispered, and the words wrapped around Niah like a blanket she'd been missing for years.
"Dad?" Niah's voice was barely a whisper.
He knelt beside her, his face torn between pride and pain. "Look how much you've grown, Niah."
She reached for them, desperate, but her hands slipped right through the mist. "Are you guys real or is it just a dream," Her voice cracked, raw and aching.
Her mother's voice was gentle,"It's real Niah, you are not dreaming. We came to see our beloved daughter."
Her father almost apologetic."But we're here as much as we're allowed to be. We don't have much time."
The words hit her like a punch. "You disappeared when I was fourteen. You never came back. Do you have any idea what that did to me? What I went through?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and unfiltered. "Why did you leave me? Why didn't you fight to come back? You know, I waited for years. I kept thinking maybe you'd walk through the door, maybe I'd hear your voice again, and everything would just... go back to normal."
Her father's voice was tight, fighting back his own pain. "We did fight, Niah. More than you know. We never stopped. But we were bound by things older than promises. Older than time itself."
She shook her head, her throat burning. "Then why name me Niah Esme Viremont? Why give me a name you knew would drag me into all this? Why didn't you tell me what I am?"
Her mother knelt across from her, hands hovering just inches from Niah's face, aching to touch her. "Because you needed to grow as yourself first. You needed to be Niah. You needed to feel human. To feel whole, so that when Esme came back... you wouldn't break apart."
Niah squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm scared."
"We know," her father said softly. "But this fear will pass. And what's left... that'll be you. All of you."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What about the voice... Rain... is this all real?"
Her mother just smiled, gentle and mysterious, but didn't answer. Her father's eyes softened. "Some questions answer themselves when the time is right."
"But what's happening to me?"
Her mother's voice was steady, but there was a tremor of urgency. "You're awakening, Niah. Piece by piece. And others know it. The Order of the Veil is moving again. There are whispers in the hidden circles. Something's stirring—something dark. You're one of the last true protectors. The flame has to rise again, or the veil will fall."
Her mother leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. "Don't be afraid of who you were, Niah. Esme wasn't the end of you. She was the beginning."
Her father added, "You're an Aesvaran, Esme. The thread between realms, woven into flesh. You were never just mortal. You carry the legacy of light. You don't have to remember everything right now. Just be brave enough to take one step forward."
Niah's chest rose and fell with a shaky breath. "Can I do this?" she whispered.
"You already are," they said together, their voices blending as the mist began to thin.
Niah reached out, desperate to hold them, to say everything she'd been holding in for years, but they were already fading. Her mother gave her one last, radiant smile.
"You were never alone, my heart. Even in the dark. We've always been watching."
Just before the vision faded, something glinted in the mist, a flash of silver. Her mother's pendant. The one Niah hadn't seen since she was a little girl. Somehow, it was in her palm now, cool and familiar.
"This is yours," her mother had said, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "It always was."
The mist curled away, leaving only silence behind. But the pendant stayed, delicate and crescent-shaped, etched with a faint sigil she couldn't quite make out.
And then, just like that, they were gone.
Niah stayed on the floor, arms wrapped tight around herself. But something had changed. The fire inside her wasn't a stranger anymore. It was hers. And it was waiting—no, begging to be used.
* * *