Then, soft footfalls echoed through the chamber.
Selene stepped forward again, quiet as ever, her veil shimmering like mist over obsidian.
In her hand was a small pendant, shaped like a teardrop and carved from jet black stone.
Obsidian.
She knelt, and this time, she did touch Annie, her hand brushing her arm gently, grounding her.
"For when you need to come back," Selene whispered, pressing the pendant into Annie's palm. "This will always guide you here."
Annie stared at her, lips parted, her mind slowly pulling pieces together through the haze.
Something about Selene had always felt familiar. Something about the way she moved. The way she looked at her with eyes full of distant sorrow and quiet fire.
Calavera watched the exchange, her face unreadable.
But when Selene rose, she stood not beside the throne—
She stood slightly in front of it.
As if she belonged there, too.
As if she had always belonged there.
Malvor caught the shift, eyes narrowing.
And Calavera… said nothing.
Because some truths are not told.
Some are simply witnessed.
The throne room slowly dimmed as the last pulse of magic faded from Annie's skin. Her body was slack against Malvor's chest, exhausted but stable, the worst of it passed, for now.
Calavera returned to her throne in silence, the shadows parting before her as if even they bowed.
Malvor did not thank her.
He just stood, lifting Annie carefully into his arms. She did not protest. Her fingers curled weakly into his coat, her breath steady but shallow.
Selene stepped forward, her movements fluid, like she floated just above the floor. She did not smile, but there was something gentler in her presence. Something almost kind.
"I will walk you out," she said softly.
They left in silence, footsteps echoing across marble and bone. The skeletal dancers had vanished. The candlelight was lower now, flickering like memory.
As they reached the massive onyx doors of the hall, Selene paused and turned to them, specifically to Annie, who was slowly regaining her strength, one breath at a time.
"There is someone else you may want to meet," she said. "Someone who can explain… more of the beginning."
Annie looked at her through half-lidded eyes. "Who?"
Selene's veil caught the light like spilled ink.
"My mother," she said softly. "Leyla."
Malvor froze mid-step.
The revelation slammed into him like a physical blow.
Of course. It all made sense. And none of it did.
Annie blinked.
Calavera's silence back in the throne room now made sense. The reverence. The way Selene's magic had resonated so deeply with the rune on her arm.
"You're—" Malvor began, but Selene simply nodded.
"Daughter to Death," she said. "And Shadow."
"I should have known," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "That calm voice. That walking library of grief. It reeks of Leyla."
Selene smiled faintly. "She would be delighted to hear you say that."
Annie's voice came quiet but clear.
"Take us to her."
Selene inclined her head. "When you are ready."
Then she opened the towering obsidian doors, letting twilight spill into the hall once more, soft and endless, the path forward waiting just beyond.
And so they stepped out of death's domain
Still bound. Still burning.
But not broken.
Back in Arbor, the air felt warmer. Softer. As if the house itself sighed in relief the moment they returned.
Annie had gone straight to bed without protest, exhaustion draped across her like another blanket. Malvor helped her settle, brushing hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her temple, then just stood there for a long time.
Watching her breathe.
She was safe.
Alive.
Changed.
He left the room quietly, not because she asked, but because he needed a moment. Alone.
The silence of the house settled around him like an old coat. Familiar. Comforting.
But his thoughts were anything but.
Calavera and Leyla had a child.
Selene.
He stood at the window, arms crossed, watching Arbor reshape the night outside, clouds stitched into velvet, stars glowing too close.
How?
How had he not known?
Leyla, the Goddess of Shadows and Secrets, and Calavera, the one who kept score of every soul? That pairing wasn't just unexpected, it was terrifying. It made a sick kind of sense. Secrets and death. Darkness and silence. Hidden things beneath the world.
But a child?
A child who now walked freely between both their realms?
Selene was not loud. She was not chaotic. She didn't try to control rooms or steal attention. She was subtle.
But now, looking back, Malvor could feel it, the weight she carried. Not just an assistant. Not a mere servant.
She had power.
Old power.
And knowledge he did not possess.
That's what bothered him most.
He was a god. A trickster. A collector of secrets, chaos, and inconvenient truths.
And yet this had slipped past him.
That made her dangerous.
His fingers drummed once on the window frame. He would be keeping an eye on Selene. Not because he distrusted her, but because anyone born of death and shadow was never born by accident.
And if she was involved with Annie…
It meant whatever was happening was not just divine.
It was destined.