Kael stepped closer, his expression grim. “I’ve discovered something that changes everything. The king has been manipulating events from the shadows, orchestrating a plot against you. There’s a plan to eliminate you, orchestrated from within the palace itself.”

Her heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in her stomach. “I know,” she whispered, the pain of Elden’s betrayal still fresh. “I found out recently. Elden… he was part of it.”

Kael’s eyes widened in surprise. “Elden? The warrior from Bramhall?”

Aerin’s voice shook with emotion. “Yes. He followed us here, and we fought the Shadow Seekers. Or at least I thought he was. But he’s been working for the king all along. He was supposed to gain my trust and then… end me.”

The night was suffused with an oppressive stillness, the kind that foretold calamity. The pain of Elden’s betrayal was a fresh wound, raw and unrelenting. The man she had trusted, the man she had begun to see deeper, had been sent to kill her.

Kael’s expression softened with understanding. “I’m sorry, Aerin”.

He tried to explain why he couldn’t be there after her family was slaughtered. Where he was.

He had to tell her. But not now.

“There’s more,” He turned around, looking over at the forest behind them as he could see the cursed forest of Nyxia. “The king’s reach is further than we thought. There are plans to decimate our forces, to crush any hope of rebellion against him.”

Her resolve hardened. “We have to find a way to turn this,” her throat was still thick from before. Her heart was still pounding hard in her chest. He hadn’t said anything. No explanation of where he was, where he had been. Nothing.

Aerin left Kael behind, she had turned her back to him, not even a goodbye. He never spoke about what she had said, about how he had left her. Broke her heart as a child. Their eyes had locked, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was a connection between them, something that had been slowly growing, unnoticed amidst the chaos. It was a dangerous, tantalizing feeling, and Aerin found herself drawn to it, despite the walls she had built around her heart.

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The weight of her confession was still heavy in the air as she made her way back to the tavern. The quiet night wrapped around her, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside. Every step felt heavier than the last, the emotions from her confrontation with Kael still raw. The confrontation with Elden was still raw. Her body ached, the pain filled her, making her already tired body even more exhausted.

The tavern was quiet when she entered, the usual rowdiness replaced by the soft murmur of the few patrons who remained. She slipped past them unnoticed, heading straight for the stairs. She passed Elden’s room without looking, pushed the door open to her room and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, a single candle flickering on the small table by the bed. Aerin let out a long breath and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands coming up to rub at her temples.

Elden did not fade into obscurity in her mind. He had continued to fight by her side, his actions driven by a fierce determination to prove himself from the start. Their interactions were fraught with tension, every glance and touch charged with unresolved emotions. There were moments of undeniable connection—a shared smile, a touch that lingered a bit too long, a silent understanding that transcended words, in the heat of battle, that Aerin had seen Elden in a new light, despite the betrayal, He fought with a ferocity that spoke of desperation, his eyes never leaving hers, as if anchoring himself to her. She saw the torment in his eyes, the guilt and regret that weighed on him.

Everything felt overwhelming—her magic, her legacy, the betrayal of those she had trusted most. And now Kael, returning after all these years, only to stir up more pain.

She leaned back, letting her eyes drift shut as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her magic simmered beneath her skin, restless and wild, a reminder of the power she still struggled to control. Mara’s words from earlier echoed in her mind: A royal lineage that could shape any magic, any source, to whatever they wanted.

But what did that mean for her? What kind of legacy was she meant to carry? Aerin had spent so long fighting for survival, for revenge, that she had never truly considered what it meant to take back her place, to claim the power that was rightfully hers.

Her hands trembled slightly as she thought of the path ahead. It wasn’t just about vengeance anymore—it was about reclaiming her birthright, about understanding the magic within her and the legacy she was tied to. The thought of it was almost too much to bear.

She knew she would have to speak to Mara and Talon again soon. Mara, with her vast knowledge of ancient magic and bloodlines, would surely have more answers. And Talon—he had been by her side through so much already, despite their sharp words and banter. They needed to understand what lay ahead, what it meant for all of them.

Aerin stood, crossing to the small window overlooking the streets of Yaveria below. The night stretched on, the stars blinking faintly in the sky. She placed a hand against the glass, the coolness of it grounding her. Tomorrow, she would speak to them. Tomorrow, they would need to discuss her lineage and the future that awaited her. But for now, she needed a moment to herself. To breathe. To process.

The ache in her chest hadn’t disappeared—it likely never would.