The fog deepened as they walked, the air cooler—soaked in quiet. The forest no longer looked like the Everveil they knew. Trees curved like bones, branches tangled in silence, and the earth beneath their feet pulsed faintly with something unseen.
Elian's breath fogged in the cold.
Cira followed beside him, clutching her shawl tighter, eyes darting between the shadows.
But even amidst the unease… She looked worried.
"We need to find him soon."
Elian nodded.
He didn't have to ask who.
They were searching for Lumen.
He had vanished not long after the fog descended—paws silent, body melting into the white as though pulled by something invisible. Cira had tried calling after him, voice cracking, but there was no sound in return. Just silence. And the tension was growing inside her.
The trees whispered now.
Not with voices—but with motion. Their branches twitched, always in the corner of her eye, like they were pointing. Or warning.
Then—
A flicker of silver.
"There!" Cira broke into a run.
Elian followed instantly, his body still aching from the mark's last burn but his pace unwavering.
Through hanging vines and past stone roots, they chased the faint shimmer until they stumbled into a glade lit by ghost-light.
And there—curled beneath a low, arching tree, glowing like moonlight on snow—was Lumen.
But he wasn't asleep.
He was trembling.
His fur stood on end, ears pressed flat. He stared at something they couldn't see—deep in the fog-drenched wood ahead.
"Lumen?" Cira knelt, reaching gently.
Lumen didn't react. His golden eyes locked on the trees.
Elian stepped forward cautiously. "He sees something."
Just then, the trees shifted.
Not physically—but in feeling. Like the forest exhaled. The ground pulsed beneath them, and the fog recoiled, curling away to reveal a stone arch overgrown with roots and white moss.
They hadn't seen it before.
They couldn't have missed it.
"This… wasn't here before," Cira whispered.
Elian's hand brushed the hilt of his dagger.
Lumen suddenly stood. And without looking back, he stepped through the arch.
Cira and Elian exchanged a glance—then followed.
The world beyond the arch was unreal.
Like stepping into a half-remembered dream.
The trees stretched taller, impossibly thin. Their leaves glowed with a faint inner light, fluttering despite the still air. A narrow stone path spiraled ahead, lined with flowers that looked carved of stardust.
"It feels… different here," Cira murmured. "Like the forest is alive."
Elian didn't answer.
Because he had felt it too.
Something shifted the moment they crossed through.
A pulse in his chest.
A pull.
Like the mark was… listening.
At the heart of the path stood a ruin—pillars cracked and leaning, yet still beautiful. It was shaped like a circle, ancient symbols etched into every stone. The wind here didn't blow—it sang, low and mournful.
Cira stepped inside slowly.
Lumen stopped at the threshold.
Elian followed, gaze cautious. And as they passed under the shattered archway, the world inside grew quieter.
Not silent.
Just… watching.
On one of the stone walls, something caught Cira's eye—a carved mural, faded but glowing faintly.
A star fell from the sky.
A child stood within the crater.
A woman cloaked in shadow reached for him.
And the mark—burned between them.
Her hand reached out.
The moment she touched the stone, Elian gasped.
He staggered back, one hand clutching his chest.
The mark glowed through the fabric of his shirt, veins of light spreading like roots. His knees hit the ground.
"Elian!"
Cira dropped beside him, arms around his shoulders. He was cold. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts.
"It's burning," he choked, voice barely above a whisper. "It's… pulling."
She pressed her hand over the mark—not knowing what else to do—and winced.
It was hot. But not in a way that burned skin.
It burned memory.
And just for a heartbeat—
—she saw it too.
A child crying alone. A woman closing a door. The echo of a sentence:
"They fear what they can't control…"
And then—
Darkness.
Elian coughed, and the light faded.
The mark stilled.
He looked up at her, eyes wide, confused, breathing hard.
And Cira…
Cira looked at her palm.
It was glowing faintly. The same way his chest had. Her skin shimmered with a silver dust, fading slowly.
She didn't say anything.
But her chest ached. Like a part of her had given something. Like something inside her was dimming…
Just a little.
As they stood to leave the ruined space, they passed a shallow pool of water—still as glass.
Elian glanced into it…
And froze.
In the reflection—
The figure was behind them again.
Closer. Clearer.
Its face still lost in shadow, but its eyes—glowing gold—pierced through.
When he spun around—
Nothing.
But something lingered.
A whisper.
"One must fade… for the other to remember."
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