Chapter Six: Secrets in the Silver
Aria jolted awake.
Her skin was cold with sweat, and her heart thundered in her chest. The dream still clung to her like mist — the silver lake, her reflection in royal armor, the outstretched hand that felt like her own… and not.
She looked down.
The mark on her wrist wasn't glowing — it was changing.
Now it pulsed in soft rings, like ripples on water. With every pulse, her skin felt warmer. Not burning — but alive.
She sat up.
Kael was already at the door, as if he'd felt it too. He didn't say a word, just nodded toward the hallway.
"They're coming," he said.
"Who?"
"Not the Shadowsworn," Kael replied. "Something worse."
---
Outside, dawn struggled to rise — the sky a bruise of violet and deep gray. Riven stood by the trees, motionless, his face unreadable.
"They've sent a Messenger," he said without turning.
Aria shivered. "What's a Messenger?"
"A being that carries the will of the Council," Kael answered, stepping to her side. "They don't speak. They show. And whatever they show… is a warning."
As if summoned, a low howl swept through the forest. Not from a wolf — not exactly — but something twisted, ancient. It vibrated through Aria's bones.
She turned.
And saw it.
At the edge of the woods stood a tall, gaunt figure in robes the color of dried blood. Its face was hidden behind a veil made of silver threads. It floated slightly off the ground, its bare feet not touching the earth.
It didn't breathe.
It didn't move.
But Aria knew — it had come for her.
"Stay back," Kael said, drawing a blade from behind his back. Riven mirrored him with twin daggers.
The Messenger raised a single hand.
The air shimmered.
Then the images came.
Not spoken. Not shown through light or flame. But felt.
Aria stumbled back as a vision crashed into her mind.
She was standing in a burning village — people screaming, wolves slaughtering anything that moved. Children crying. Blood soaking the snow. At the center of it all stood… herself. But not as she was now.
It was the Crescent Queen.
Cloaked in silver and black. Power radiating from her like wildfire.
And her eyes — her eyes were filled with rage.
With a single flick of her wrist, she unleashed a wave of destruction that wiped out everyone — friend, foe, and innocent alike.
The vision faded.
Aria collapsed to her knees.
Kael caught her, voice tight. "What did it show you?"
She looked up, pale and shaking. "Me. Killing them. Everyone."
Kael's face darkened.
Riven stared at the Messenger. "It's lying. Twisting the past."
But Aria wasn't sure.
Because a part of her — a cold, hidden part — hadn't been horrified by the destruction.
It had felt… powerful.
And that terrified her more than anything.
---
After the Messenger vanished into the woods, Riven refused to leave Aria's side.
Kael didn't argue, but tension thickened the air like a storm cloud waiting to break.
They sat by the fireplace, silence settling between them like snow.
"I need to know what that was," Aria said finally.
Kael stirred the fire with a stick. "They're trying to scare you."
"Or warn me."
"No," Riven said, gaze fixed on her. "That memory… it was real. But what they didn't show you is why you did it."
Aria looked at him, startled.
Riven stood, his jaw clenched. "That village was a trap. The Council had sent assassins hidden among the innocents. You were forced to choose — unleash your magic and end it… or let them kill everyone, including you."
"And I chose… destruction," she whispered.
"You chose to survive."
Kael rose too. "You chose vengeance."
"No," Riven shot back. "She chose to end a war. You just never forgave her for not following your orders."
Kael's voice dropped to a growl. "You watched her fall apart and did nothing. You let her die."
"And you ended her," Riven snapped. "Don't act like a saint now."
"Enough!" Aria yelled.
They both froze.
"I don't care which one of you was right. I'm not her. I'm me. And I need to know everything — now."
---
Later that night, Kael led her to the cellar beneath the cabin.
Candles lined the walls. Ancient scrolls and locked boxes filled the shelves.
"This is your aunt's sanctuary," he said. "She was part of the Circle — loyal to your crown. She protected your secrets while you were gone."
Aria's eyes landed on a cracked mirror standing in the far corner.
"Show me," she whispered.
Kael placed a hand on the mirror's edge.
It shimmered.
And Aria saw her past life.
Not in battle. Not in power.
But in sorrow.
She was kneeling in a field of dead wolves, weeping over a golden blade drenched in Kael's blood. Riven stood behind her, broken and silent.
Her reflection met her eyes.
And smiled.
"You were born for war."
Aria staggered back, nearly tripping over an old trunk. It crashed open, spilling a bundle of scrolls and—
A crown.
Silver, with thorns like crescent moons. Blood still stained the base.
She reached out.
And as her fingers brushed it—
She remembered.
---
Not everything.
Just one moment.
She stood in a chamber lit with firelight. Riven was at her feet, bleeding from the shoulder. Kael had a blade to his throat.
She held her hands out.
"Stop," she said.
"He betrayed us!" Kael yelled.
"He loved me," she whispered.
"He chose them," Kael snapped.
"I chose peace!" Riven gasped.
And then—
The blade fell.
Not by Kael's hand.
By hers.
---
Aria gasped back into the present, her chest heaving.
"I killed him," she whispered. "The first time. It was me."
Kael stared.
Riven stepped back like she'd struck him.
And that's when they heard it.
A slow, deliberate knock on the cabin door.
Three times.
Kael drew his blade. "That's not a Messenger."
Riven's face went pale.
Aria moved toward the door, compelled.
When she opened it, a woman stood there.
Dressed in white.
Eyes silver.
And Aria recognized her instantly.
"Elana," she breathed. "My mother."
The woman smiled coldly.
"No, darling," she said softly. "Your mother's dead."