The journey back to the village passed in contemplative silence, each step marked by the weight of their discovery. Adrian's mind churned with questions, each revelation seeming to spawn a dozen more. The connection between his Evermark and the ancient monolith was undeniable, yet its full meaning remained tantalizingly out of reach.

As they approached the village outskirts, Lina raised a hand, halting the group.

"We should separate here," she whispered. "Father's guards will be watching for unusual movement, especially after tonight's attack."

Carl nodded, adjusting his pack where he'd carefully stored his sketches. "Wise precaution. Is there somewhere we can meet later to discuss our findings?"

"The small storehouse behind the inn at midnight," Lina replied. "It's rarely used this time of year." She turned to Adrian, her expression hesitant yet determined. "Before then, I'd like to speak with you privately, if you would."

Adrian caught Elarala's subtle nod. "Of course."

"I'll return to the inn and organize what we've learned," Carl said. "Perhaps cross-reference these symbols with my grandfather's journals."

"And I shall meditate on what the stone has revealed," Elarala added. "The Old Tongue speaks in riddles that may become clearer in reflection."

They parted ways, Adrian following Lina along a narrow path that skirted the village's edge. The moon had begun its descent, casting longer shadows across the sleeping settlement. They moved quietly, avoiding the occasional patrol of village guards, their faces grim in the aftermath of the Shadow Eater attack.

Lina led him to a small wooden structure nestled against the forest edge—a watchman's shelter, by the look of it, though currently unoccupied.

"The shift doesn't change until dawn," she explained, pushing open the weathered door. Inside was sparse but clean: a small bench, a table with an unlit lantern, shelves with supplies.

Adrian closed the door behind them as Lina struck a flint, lighting the lantern to cast a warm glow throughout the space. She seemed different here—more vulnerable, yet also more determined, as if preparing herself for something difficult.

"What you saw tonight," she began, her voice soft but steady, "the way the stone responded to you, to us both... it confirms what I've suspected since my dreams began."

Adrian leaned against the wall, giving her space. "And what is that?"

Lina's fingers traced invisible patterns on the table's surface, echoing the runes from the monolith. "I am not who the village believes me to be." She looked up, meeting his gaze directly. "I am not Owen's daughter by birth."

Though surprised, Adrian kept his expression neutral. "He's raised you as his own."

"Yes, and with genuine love," she acknowledged. "But I was found, not born to him." Lina drew a deep breath. "Fifteen years ago, during the winter solstice, Owen was performing the ritual tending of the Ancestor Stone—what you now know as the monolith. He found me there, a newborn infant, wrapped in a shimmering cloth like none he'd ever seen, placed at the stone's base."

Adrian straightened. "Fifteen years ago..."

"There were no signs of who had left me there or why," she continued. "The cloth I was wrapped in bore symbols similar to those on the stone—and to your mark. It burns now in my quarters, hidden beneath floorboards. I've studied its patterns countless times."

She moved to the small window, gazing out toward the forest. "As I grew, strange things would happen around me. Lights would flare brighter in my presence. Sometimes, when afraid or angry, I could make shadows retreat." Her voice lowered. "And always, always, I felt drawn to the stone. When I was young, Owen would find me wandering there in my sleep."

"And he kept this secret?" Adrian asked.

"He had to. In those days, the village was even more suspicious of outsiders and unusual occurrences. He told everyone I was his late sister's child, come to live with him after her death. Few questioned the story." She turned back to Adrian. "Only Archivist Thorn knew the truth. He helped Owen decipher some of the symbols on the cloth, though much remained mysterious."

Adrian considered this information carefully. The coincidence was too precise to ignore—a child found at the monolith, bearing similar markings to those that connected to the Evermark.

"When did the dreams begin?" he asked.

"After the scholars came and the shadows appeared," Lina replied. "At first, just impressions—fire holding back darkness, ancient symbols awakening. Then they became clearer. I saw you, wielding flames against the void. I saw the stone glowing in response to your presence."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She hesitated, then added, "There's something else. Something I haven't told anyone, not even Owen." From within her tunic, she withdrew a small object wrapped in leather. Carefully unwinding it, she revealed a crystal shard about the length of her finger. It appeared clear at first glance, but as Adrian looked closer, he saw that it contained a swirling light, like captured moonbeams.

"This was found with me," Lina explained. "Owen kept it hidden away, fearing its power. When I turned thirteen, I... borrowed it. The moment I touched it, it responded to me, glowing brighter."

Adrian felt the Evermark warm beneath his sleeve, sensing the crystal's presence. "May I?" he asked, extending his hand.

Lina hesitated only briefly before placing the crystal in his palm. The reaction was immediate—both the crystal and his Evermark pulsed with synchronized energy, creating a momentary connection that sent a cascade of impressions through Adrian's mind: a silver tower gleaming in moonlight; hands weaving complex patterns of light; a woman with hair like spun moonlight bending over a cradle; and finally, the monolith, younger somehow, its runes burning with fresh power.

Adrian gasped, returning the crystal to Lina. The visions faded, but their impression remained.

"You saw something," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Fragments only," he replied, gathering his thoughts. "But enough to suggest you're connected to something ancient and powerful. The same forces that created the Evermark and the monolith seem to have had a hand in your... placement."

Lina closed her fingers around the crystal. "I've always felt different—set apart, as if waiting for something. When the shadows came and my dreams began, I thought perhaps that 'something' had finally arrived." Her eyes met his, searching. "Am I correct? Is your coming what I've been waiting for?"

Adrian considered his words carefully. "I believe our paths crossing is no accident. Your affinity for light, my connection to fire—they seem complementary, balanced. And both appear linked to these ancient powers we're only beginning to understand."

He gestured to the crystal. "That shard—I'd wager it's connected to the same source as the monolith. A piece of whatever greater whole they both serve."

"The Source," Lina murmured, recalling Elarala's words at the stone. "The wellspring from which all elements flow."

"Precisely." Adrian paced the small space, mind working. "If the Obsidian Circle came seeking knowledge from the repository, and that knowledge relates to these ancient powers—to the monolith, to the Evermark, and possibly to you—then your connection might be even more significant than we realized."

"You think I might have magical blood?" Lina asked, her voice both hopeful and apprehensive. "Like in the old stories of the Silver Covenant?"

"It's more than possible," Adrian replied. "The way light responds to you, your dreams, your connection to the crystal and monolith—these aren't coincidences. Elarala mentioned light affinity earlier, sensing it in you. That's rare, especially in one untrained."

He gestured to his arm where the Evermark lay hidden. "Just as I have an affinity for fire, strengthened by this mark, you seem to have a natural connection to light. Whether that comes from bloodline, from whatever circumstances surrounded your arrival, or both—I can't say with certainty."

Lina absorbed this, her expression shifting from uncertainty to something more resolved. "If what you say is true, then I need to understand this power. Learn to use it." She clutched the crystal tighter. "If it can help save my village, my father..."

"It can," Adrian assured her. "And I believe Elarala could help you develop that understanding, as she's been helping me."

"Then I'm coming with you," Lina declared. "When you leave Forest Star—and you will have to leave, once my father recovers from tonight's shock—I'm coming with you."

Adrian studied her, seeing the determination in her eyes. She was young, yes, but there was an inner strength there that reminded him of others he had known—warriors and scholars who had faced the unknown with similar resolve.

"It won't be safe," he warned.

"Nowhere is safe now," she countered. "Not with the shadows spreading, not with my dreams growing more urgent." Her fingers traced the outline of the crystal through its wrapping. "Besides, I've spent fifteen years feeling like a stranger in my own skin, sensing there was something more waiting for me. I won't turn away now that the path is finally revealing itself."

A soft noise outside interrupted them—the changing of a distant guard patrol. They both tensed, listening until the sounds faded.

"We should return," Adrian said. "The others will be waiting, and there's much to discuss before morning."

As they prepared to leave, Lina touched his arm. "One last thing. In my most recent dream, just before you arrived in the village, I saw something troubling. Five marks like yours, each glowing with a different elemental energy—fire, water, earth, air, and lightning. But one by one, they were being extinguished by shadow."

Adrian felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. "Five Evermarks," he murmured. "Elarala mentioned there might be others."

"In the dream, yours burned brightest, holding out longest against the darkness," Lina continued. "But even it flickered, threatened. Then a light appeared—not from a mark, but from something else. Something that strengthened the fire, helped it push back the shadows."

"Your light," Adrian realized.

Lina nodded slowly. "I think so. I think that's why I was placed here, why I was drawn to the stone, why I dreamed of you before you came. Whatever power left me at the monolith did so with purpose."

They slipped out of the shelter and back toward the village, each lost in thought. Adrian's mind turned over this new information, fitting it into the gradually expanding puzzle of his awakening, the Evermark, and the forces that sought to either protect or exploit its power.

If there were indeed five Evermarks, each tied to a primal element, and if the Obsidian Circle was hunting them, then finding the others—or at least understanding what connected them—had become even more urgent. And Lina, with her mysterious origins and innate connection to light, might be key to that understanding.

The shadows between the trees seemed to deepen as they walked, as if listening, watching. Adrian felt the weight of unseen eyes upon them, a reminder that whatever had left Lina at the monolith fifteen years ago, whatever had awakened his Evermark and drawn him to this place, was part of a design far larger and more ancient than he had imagined.

And somewhere in the darkness, the void-touched servants of the Obsidian Circle were gathering strength, preparing to strike again—not just at Forest Star Village, but at the very foundations of the power that Adrian and Lina were only beginning to comprehend.