The river widened into a breathtaking expanse as dawn finally rose in pale gold across the horizon. Mist hovered over the water like a sleeping breath, drifting lazily over the glassy surface. The boat slowed as the current gentled, bending toward an opening between two massive willow trees whose roots curled deep into the river itself.
Elara stared in awe.
Hidden beyond the willow curtain—protected by branches heavy with silver leaves—stood an ancient stone arch. Moss clung to its sides, and faint symbols—light-faded, river-worn—glowed softly beneath the morning sky.
The Sanctuary.
She felt it before she understood it.
A warmth brushed her cheek, like fingers made of sunlight. The mark on her chest tightened, humming with recognition.
Mara rowed them closer, her face solemn. "This place is older than the First Light itself. Built before kings had names. Before the priests twisted their god from shadow."
Lucien leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the arch. "The runes… they're old. Older than human magic."
"Yes," Mara whispered. "Only three kinds of beings could carve such symbols: river spirits… Healers of First Light… or the ones who stood between darkness and dawn."
Elara swallowed. "What does that mean?"
Mara's expression darkened. "It means your mother brought you here once before. And she did not want you to remember."
Elara's breath caught.
Lucien's head turned sharply. "She brought a child here?"
"Yes," Mara said quietly. "This was where she hid you when the priests first came."
Elara felt dizzy. "Why don't I remember?"
Mara looked at her with pitying eyes. "Because she asked the river to take the memory from you. For protection."
Elara tightened her hold on the old book.
Lucien placed a hand on her back. "Elara. We can learn the truth here."
She nodded, though her chest felt heavy with fear and hope tangled together.
The Sanctuary Revealed
As their boat passed beneath the willow archway, the air shifted.
Warmer.
Brighter.
Alive.
Lucien stiffened as the shadows around him recoiled, curling protectively but cautiously.
Mara grinned faintly. "Even shadow fears a place like this."
"I do not fear it," Lucien muttered, though his tightened posture told another story.
Elara stepped out of the boat first, boots sinking into soft moss. The ground glowed faintly beneath her feet as she walked.
A broken stone pathway wound through the clearing toward a circular slab of white marble partly buried in the earth. Runes spiraled across it in perfect symmetry, and at its center—
A shallow pool of luminous water.
Elara's breath trembled. "This… This feels familiar."
Mara touched her shoulder. "Because you were born here."
Lucien stopped mid-step.
Elara froze. "Born… here?"
"Yes," Mara said softly. "Your mother fled to this sanctuary when her labor began. The priests had tracked her to the marsh. You came into this world while shadows tore the forest apart searching for her."
Lucien's eyes darkened as he listened—anger flickering beneath his exhaustion.
Mara continued, voice trembling:
"Your mother placed you in this pool. Its water awakened the light inside you… and sealed her death."
Elara's throat tightened painfully. "She died because of me."
"No," Mara said sharply. "She died protecting you. Never confuse sacrifice with blame."
Lucien stepped closer. "Your mother didn't die because of you. She died for you. There's a difference."
Elara looked into the glowing pool, her reflection shimmering. "Did she know what I would become?"
Mara hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"She knew the prophecy. She knew the bond. She knew the priests would hunt you until the world ended or you did."
Lucien lowered his head slightly, as if honoring a memory he never witnessed.
Elara squeezed her mother's book tighter. "Show me what she left. What she meant for me to see."
The Water's Memory
The pool glowed brighter as Elara approached.
Lucien stood at the edge of the clearing, restless. The light made his curse shift beneath his skin—Elara could feel it through the bond.
"Stay back if it hurts you," she whispered.
"I'm fine," Lucien replied, though his jaw tightened. "This place won't harm me."
Mara gave him a pointed look. "Sanctuary doesn't harm darkness. It simply refuses to feed it."
Lucien stiffened, but said nothing.
Elara knelt beside the pool. She reached out, fingertips brushing its surface—
The water stirred.
Light rippled outward from her touch. The runes circling the stone floor ignited one by one—soft, warm, amber-white.
A trembling breath escaped her. "What is happening?"
Mara stepped back. "The Sanctuary is recognizing you. Only the Healer of First Light can wake its memory."
Elara's reflection blurred—twisted—shifted—
Then the water flashed.
Images burst alive beneath its surface.
A woman with Elara's eyes cradling a newborn wrapped in riverweed cloth.
Mara—years younger—kneeling beside her.
Shadows clawing at the trees outside the sanctuary.
A tear-streaked smile.
A whisper:
"My child… you must outrun the darkness I could not."
Elara gasped. Tears blurred her vision.
Lucien stepped closer, drawn to her pain like iron to a magnet. "Elara—"
But the water flared again.
Her mother's voice echoed across the clearing, soft yet powerful.
"If you are hearing this… they have found you."
Elara's breath hitched.
Her mother continued:
"Your light will awaken early. It will fight your heart before it protects it."
"You will meet someone cursed… someone bound to shadow… someone who was never meant to walk your path."
"Do not fear him."
Lucien froze.
Mara's eyes widened.
Elara's heart hammered painfully.
"Your destinies are tangled. Where one falls, the other will follow. Where one rises, the other will strengthen."
Lucien's breath caught quietly—almost inaudible.
"The god wants your blood. The priests want your gift. But only the cursed one will want your survival."
Elara pressed a hand to her mouth.
Lucien's gaze dropped to the ground, shadows trembling around his feet—shaken in a way she had never seen.
Her mother's voice softened.
"If he is beside you when you hear this… you are no longer alone."
Lucien closed his eyes.
Elara felt something twist inside her—pain, grief, hope, and fear all fighting for space.
The water dimmed.
Her mother's image faded.
And silence fell heavy across the Sanctuary.
The Weight of Truth
Elara knelt trembling, tears falling silently into the glowing pool.
Lucien approached slowly—as if unsure whether he had the right.
"Elara… I didn't know," he whispered. "I never knew she foresaw this."
Elara looked up, voice breaking. "She trusted you. Before she even met you."
Lucien shook his head. "She trusted prophecy. Not me."
Mara stepped forward. "No. She knew you would come to protect Elara. She saw the bond forming before either of you existed."
Lucien stiffened, eyes flickering with conflict.
Elara rose shakily to her feet. "Lucien… are you alright?"
He swallowed once—a rare, vulnerable motion. "You shouldn't put faith in someone cursed."
"You're not cursed to me," Elara said softly.
Lucien looked away, jaw tight.
Mara cleared her throat loudly, breaking the tension. "We came here for strength and answers. We have one. But not the other."
Elara hugged the book to her chest. "What answers are left?"
Mara pointed toward the far side of the Sanctuary.
A stone door—previously hidden—now glowed with faint light.
A symbol appeared etched on its center.
A circle.
A flame.
A drop of light—
Elara's mark.
Mara exhaled. "Your mother opened that door once. She sealed something behind it."
Lucien stepped beside Elara. "Then we need to unseal it."
Elara nodded, though terror fluttered in her chest.
"What if something dangerous is inside?" she whispered.
Lucien's eyes softened—not warm, not gentle, but steady.
"Then I'll face it beside you."
Elara drew a trembling breath.
Together, they approached the ancient door.
The Sanctuary held its breath.
The river stilled.
And Elara reached out toward the mark glowing on the stone—
her destiny waiting on the other side.