Chapter 19: Shadow Of Memory
Seeker’s spear snapped upward, meeting Karnath’s descending axe with a deafening clang. Sparks flew as steel collided, the force of the blow reverberating up Seeker’s arms. He gritted his teeth and twisted his weapon, deflecting the second axe as it arced toward his side.
Karnath didn’t retreat. He pressed forward, his twin axes a relentless blur, each strike aimed to kill.
“You fight like a cornered beast,” Karnath snarled, his golden eyes gleaming with feral delight. “But beasts bleed all the same.”
Seeker spun away, his spear moving like an extension of his will. He thrust toward Karnath’s exposed side, lightning crackling along the weapon’s length. The glyphs etched into Karnath’s armor flared, their golden light forming a shimmering barrier that absorbed the strike.
Karnath laughed, the sound deep and mocking. “Did you think your petty tricks would work on me? These glyphs were forged by an Archmage of the High Elves. No human could ever break them.”
He shifted his stance, his golden eyes flicking briefly toward the broken body lying behind him. His grin widened, sharp and cruel.
“That one, what was his name? Harken?” Karnath’s voice was laced with derision. “He didn’t need your little sparks and paltry tricks. He stood against me with nothing but steel and spine. He didn’t even make me rely on these glyphs. A true warrior, even if he was just a human.”
Karnath’s axes twitched in his hands, his tone dropping to a guttural growl. “And now here you are, flinging your magic around like a child with a new toy. Do you think it makes you my better? It doesn’t. It makes you pathetic.”
Seeker’s face remained calm, though the storm inside him surged violently against its restraints. He stepped back, circling Karnath, his spear held steady. Lightning flickered faintly along its length, but he didn’t call on more power.
“Come then,” Karnath sneered, raising one axe. “Show me what your tricks can do.”
Seeker said nothing, his face calm despite the storm inside him. He stepped back, circling Karnath, his spear held ready. Lightning flickered faintly along its length, but he didn’t call on more power.
His grip on spear tightened, the storm inside him shifting. He knew Karnath was trying to provoke him, to force a mistake. Instead of replying, he drew a slow breath, letting the chaos of the battlefield around him fade into the background.
Karnath lunged, his axes carving through the air with terrifying speed. Seeker moved without hesitation, his body reacting before his mind could command it. He ducked under the first strike and spun away from the second, his spear lashing out to catch Karnath’s leg.
The glyphs flared again, and the blow glanced off harmlessly. But Karnath staggered, his balance shifting for just a moment.
Seeker pressed the advantage, his spear striking again and again in quick, precise jabs. Each hit was aimed at a weak point, joints, gaps in armor, exposed flesh. None of the strikes penetrated the glowing glyphs, but they forced Karnath to stay on the defensive.
The rhythm of the fight reminded Seeker of the arena. The way his opponents had circled him, how they had pressed forward relentlessly, always testing his limits. It wasn’t about overpowering Karnath. It was about outlasting him, wearing him down, waiting for the moment when the storm inside him could strike with purpose.
“You fight like a gladiator,” Karnath growled, catching the spear on the haft of one axe and twisting sharply. The motion nearly tore the weapon from Seeker’s hands, but he held firm, twisting back and breaking free.
“Is that what you were?” Karnath sneered, stepping closer. “A caged animal trained to amuse your masters? And now you think you can stand against me?”
Seeker didn’t answer. Instead, he lowered his spear slightly, his eyes narrowing. The storm inside him churned, restless and alive, but he held it back. He wouldn’t break the dam yet. Not here. Not for this.
Karnath took the pause as hesitation, his grin widening. “You’re afraid. You should be.” He swung again, the blow aimed for Seeker’s head.
Seeker moved.
This time, his body was faster, sharper. His muscles burned with the strength of magic coursing through them, his movements precise as if guided by something deeper than instinct. He dodged Karnath’s strike with ease, his spear flashing upward to catch the edge of one axe. The impact sent Karnath stumbling back a step, his expression darkening.
“You’ve been holding back,” Karnath said, his voice low, dangerous.
Seeker’s gaze shifted, his eyes flicking past Karnath to where Harken’s body lay broken on the blood-soaked ground. The storm inside him surged, and he let it touch him, just enough to reach the edges of his body.
His breathing slowed. The world sharpened. He felt the flow of magic in his veins, not as a torrent but as a steady, controlled stream.
“What are you doing?” Karnath growled, his grip on his axes tightening.
Seeker’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The glyphs on Karnath’s armor flared again, sensing the shift in power. “Blasphemy,” Karnath spat, his rage igniting. “You dare invoke the rites of Thal’noras, human? That is not your place!”
Seeker moved before Karnath could finish. His spear struck like lightning, not at Karnath’s glyphs, but at his footing, his balance. Each strike forced the Wild Elf back a step, his blows heavier, sharper, more deliberate.
The Thal’noras state wasn’t about power. It was about clarity. Purpose.
Karnath roared, his axes flashing in a desperate counterattack. But Seeker was already gone, moving like a shadow, his spear finding the smallest gaps in Karnath’s defense.
“Fight me!” Karnath bellowed, his fury rising. “Show me the storm you claim to wield!”
Seeker met his gaze, his voice steady. “You’ll see it soon enough.”
The forest was alive with the chaos of battle.
Sylvara’s ambush, meant to cripple the humans’ exposed right flank, had turned into a brutal, tangled melee. Her Wood Elves fought with precision and grace, their arrows flying in perfect arcs before finding their marks. Seeker’s unit, freed slaves and hardened gladiators, held the line against them, their weapons crude but wielded with a determination born of survival. Illara’s soldiers struck from the rear, disrupting the ambush with a ferocity that mirrored the chaos of the storm Seeker commanded.
Among it all, Sylvara fought like a cornered predator, her silver eyes gleaming with rage and cunning. Blood streaked her face, dripping from a gash along her temple. Her green cloak was torn, revealing the dark stains of blood where frost and fire had scorched her armor. Yet she moved with fluid grace, her blade flashing as she stood against Jara, Illara, and Liora.
“You came to this forest thinking you could outwit me,” Sylvara hissed, circling the three women. “Thinking you could stop what’s already been set in motion? The arrogance of humans knows no bounds.”
“This isn’t your forest,” Jara said, her voice low and calm, though her chest heaved with exertion. Frost tipped her arrows, the icy glow reflecting in her eyes as she drew her bowstring. “It belongs to no one.”
Sylvara’s laughter was sharp and cruel. “All forests of world belongs to me, Forest Daughter. As does your life.”
The fight raged in the dense undergrowth, the sound of clashing steel and shouted orders mixing with the groaning of trees and the hiss of arrows.
Seeker’s unit, a mix of freed slaves and former gladiators, fought tooth and nail against Sylvara’s warriors. Their movements were not elegant, nothing about them was. They fought like cornered animals, their crude weapons hacking and thrusting with raw desperation.
A freedman wielding a blacksmith’s hammer swung wildly at a Wood Elf archer, the blow shattering the Elf’s bow before caving in his chest with a sickening crunch. Another slave, a woman with a whip coiled around her arm used it to yank a blade from an Elf’s hand before driving a dagger into his throat.
Still, the Wood Elves pressed on. Their arrows fell like rain, each shot precise and deadly. A gladiator raised his shield just in time to block one, the impact splintering the wood. Another arrow pierced a gap in his armor, sinking deep into his shoulder. He gritted his teeth and kept fighting, using his sword to cut down an Elf who got too close.
Illara’s soldiers struck from the rear, their disciplined maneuvers forcing the Wood Elves to divide their focus. A pair of Illara’s knights fought back to back, their blades cutting through the elegant lines of their enemies.
But the Wood Elves adapted quickly. One leapt into the branches of a tree, firing down at the humans with deadly accuracy. Another hurled a vial of glowing liquid into a cluster of Illara’s troops, the explosion scattering bodies and leaving the air thick with the acrid stench of burned flesh.
At the center of the chaos, Sylvara held her ground, even as the three women closed in on her.
Liora lunged first, her frost-covered spear aiming for Sylvara’s heart. The sharp crack of ice followed her movements, the cold air biting at Sylvara’s exposed skin.
Sylvara twisted, her movements unnaturally fast, and lashed out with her blade. A vine snapped upward at her command, wrapping around Liora’s spear and yanking it off course. Liora snarled, wrenching it free, but Sylvara was already stepping into the opening. Her blade slashed upward, grazing Liora’s cheek and drawing blood.
“You’re predictable,” Sylvara taunted, her voice sharp as the edge of her sword.
Illara unleashed a burst of flame, the heat of it searing through the air. Sylvara spun away, her cloak singed as the fire struck the trunk of a tree, leaving a blackened scar.
“You call that magic?” Sylvara spat, her silver eyes narrowing. “Your flame flickers like a dying candle.”
Illara gritted her teeth and struck again, but Sylvara countered with uncanny speed. Her movements blurred as she darted toward Illara, her blade slicing across the human’s arm. Blood welled, and Illara staggered back, her flames dimming.
Jara remained still, her hands outstretched, the forest responding to her silent command. Vines coiled around Sylvara’s feet, roots twisting upward to trap her.
“Stay down,” Jara said, her voice steady despite the sweat dripping down her face.
Sylvara’s lips curled into a feral grin. “You don’t command the forest, child.”
The roots snapped, Sylvara’s will overpowering Jara’s. A branch swung down, aiming for Jara’s head, but Liora’s spear shattered it mid-swing.
Blood stained the snow-covered ground, the toll of battle etched on every face. Liora’s cheek was streaked with crimson, her breathing labored. Illara’s arm hung limp at her side, the flames in her hand flickering weakly. Even Jara swayed slightly, the strain of commanding the forest evident in her trembling hands.
And yet, Sylvara bled too. A gash across her side seeped blood, her movements slower now. Her silver eyes burned with defiance, but they flickered with something else desperation.
“You can’t win,” Jara said, her voice quiet but unyielding. “Not here. Not today.”
Sylvara raised her blade, her lips curling into a snarl. “I will fight until my last breath. You will not take this forest from me.”
The battle raged on around them, the clash of wills and weapons a storm that refused to break.
---
The battlefield was chaos incarnate, but here, at the center of it all, stood Seeker and Karnath, a storm within the storm.
Karnath’s axes crashed down, their force sending tremors through the frozen earth. Seeker’s spear snapped up to meet them, the clash echoing like thunder. Sparks flew as steel met steel, and the impact rippled outward, shaking the combatants around them.
Seeker stumbled, his swing going wide as the ground quaked beneath him. A Wild Elf archer, mid-draw, faltered as her footing slipped, her arrow veering off into the trees.
Karnath pressed forward, his grin sharp as his axes. “Is this the best you can do?” he taunted, his strikes coming faster, heavier. Each blow carved deep gouges into the earth, the shockwaves tearing through the snow and scattering debris.
Seeker spun his spear, deflecting one strike and sidestepping another. His movements were quick, fluid, but they carried the weight of exhaustion. Lightning flickered along the spear’s length, weak and sputtering, the storm inside him held back by sheer will.
“You’re not bad for a human,” Karnath sneered, his golden eyes gleaming. “But you’re out of your depth. You’ve reached your limit.”
Karnath lunged, his axes arcing down in a devastating double strike. Seeker caught the first with the haft of his spear, the impact rattling his arms. The second axe tore past his defense, grazing his shoulder and cutting through armor and flesh.
Seeker staggered back, his breath sharp and ragged, blood dripping onto the snow.
Karnath laughed, low and mocking, as he advanced. “This is what happens when a beast thinks it’s more than it is. You were born to kneel, human. And that’s where you’ll die.”
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Seeker’s grip on his spear tightened, his knuckles white. The storm inside him churned violently, crashing against the dam he’d built to contain it. He could feel it clawing to break free, but he pushed it down. Not yet. Not here.
The words echoed in his mind, soft and lilting:
"The big one that casts shadows, or the little one that shines quietly. Both have their place. Both leave a mark."
He had tried to be the smaller moon, the one that shone quietly, sparingly. But Karnath was too much. His strength, his speed, his centuries of battle hardened experience, they were insurmountable. Not for the man Seeker was now.
Karnath swung again, and Seeker deflected the blow, though it drove him back another step. He gasped, his muscles screaming in protest, his shoulder slick with blood.
Harken’s broken body flashed in his mind, still and lifeless in the snow.
No more.
Seeker straightened, his breath steadying as his grip on the dam slipped. “No more,” he whispered, the words carried away by the wind.
The dam shattered.
The power surged through him in an unstoppable torrent, wild and unrelenting. Lightning erupted from his body, crackling outward in a web of brilliant arcs. The ground beneath him cracked and split, tremors shaking the battlefield.
Karnath paused, his grin faltering as golden glyphs on his armor flared in response. The light of his protections dimmed and flickered as the storm pressed against them.
Seeker staggered as the power coursed through him, his muscles spasming under the strain. It was too much, raw and searing, threatening to consume him. His mana channels burned, the flow of energy tearing through him like a flood through fractured walls.
He fell to one knee, his spear digging into the cracked earth. The lightning around him faltered, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
It’s too much, he thought, his vision blurring. The storm was a force beyond him, wild and uncontrollable. I can’t…
“Seeker.”
The voice was soft but clear, cutting through the roar of the storm.
His head snapped up, his storm lit eyes wide. Zara stood before him, her figure faint and shimmering, as if formed from the storm itself. Her face was calm, her expression steady as she extended her hand toward him.
“Follow me,” she said, her voice a gentle current amidst the chaos.
For a moment, he hesitated, the storm within him thrashing violently. The burning in his veins screamed against it, his instincts crying out to pull back, to shut it all away.
Then her hand touched his, cool and steady. The storm quieted.
---
The battle still raged around them, and in the middle of it, Sylvara moved like a predator, her blade flashing as she turned aside Liora’s frost-tipped spear and ducked beneath Illara’s fire coated slash.
“Is that all you have?” Sylvara hissed, her voice sharp and mocking, even as her chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Blood streaked her cheek, her hair clinging to her face, but her silver eyes burned with unrelenting defiance.
Liora lunged again, her spear aimed for Sylvara’s heart, but the Wood Elf sidestepped, her movements impossibly smooth despite the mounting toll of the fight. Jara’s voice was low and steady as she called the forest to life, vines twisting and snapping toward Sylvara like living serpents. But Sylvara countered with her own magic, the trees groaning as their loyalties shifted between the two wills commanding them.
The chaos of battle was deafening, until it wasn’t.
A tremor shook the ground beneath them, faint at first but growing stronger, the vibration spreading like ripples through the forest.
The air grew thick, charged with energy.
Then came the light.
Brilliant arcs of lightning erupted in the distance, illuminating the forest in stark, searing flashes. The mana surge hit them a heartbeat later, a tidal wave of raw power that slammed into them like a physical force. Liora stumbled, her spear dipping, and even Sylvara paused, her silver eyes narrowing as she turned toward the source.
The light flickered, then vanished, plunging the forest into sudden darkness, that even sun couldn`t replace.
For a moment, the only sound was the faint crackle of dying sparks and the distant echo of thunder. Then Liora screamed.
“Seeker!”
The name tore from Liora’s throat, raw and filled with desperation. She bolted, her feet slipping on the blood slick ground as she turned toward the darkness where the lightning had come from.
“Girl, wait!” Illara shouted, her voice edged with panic.
Sylvara moved faster. Her hand snapped out, a vine surging forward like a striking serpent. It lashed toward Liora, its thorned tip aiming for her legs, but it never reached her.
Jara’s voice cut through the silence, low and trembling.
“No.”
The vine froze mid flight, trembling as though caught in invisible hands. Another vine snapped upward, this one striking Sylvara’s arm. It coiled around her wrist, pulling tight enough to draw blood.
Sylvara snarled, twisting to free herself, but Jara stepped forward, her face streaked with silent tears. Her hands were steady, her gaze unwavering as she summoned more vines to wrap around Sylvara’s limbs, pinning her in place.
“You don’t get to stop her,” Jara said, her voice trembling with quiet resolve.
Sylvara snarled, her struggle fierce but futile. Her blade slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground as the vines coiled tighter.
Illara stepped forward, her fire coated sword gleaming faintly in the darkness.
Sylvara’s silver eyes widened, just for a moment, before the blade plunged into her chest.
Sylvara’s body jerked as the sword drove through her, the fire spreading across her armor and into the vines that held her. Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. Blood welled from her mouth, streaking her perfect teeth as her head tilted back.
In moments, there was no living Wood Elves around them, only silent looks of their men.
Jara’s hands dropped to her sides, her shoulders trembling. The vines slackened slightly, the life fading from them as Sylvara’s form sagged against their grip.
The forest was silent again, save for Liora’s fading footsteps as she disappeared into the darkness.
Illara pulled her blade free, the fire along its edge dimming as blood dripped from its tip. She turned to Jara, her face pale and streaked with dirt and blood. “We need to go after her,” she said, her voice tight.
Jara didn’t respond. She stared at Sylvara’s lifeless body, her tears still falling, her expression unreadable.
“Jara,” Illara said more firmly, stepping closer.
At last, Jara nodded, her hands clenching into fists. She turned toward the darkness, her movements slow but determined.
The forest felt heavier now, the air thick with the weight of what had been unleashed.
---
The fireflies danced in the twilight, their gentle glow flickering like embers caught on a soft breeze. They moved in lazy arcs above the gathered crowd, tiny lights against the deepening blue of the sky. Children’s laughter rang out, bright and carefree, mingling with the hum of music and the rhythmic beat of feet on wooden planks. The air smelled of spiced bread and wildflowers, carried on a breeze that whispered of nothing but comfort.
Seeker stood at the edge of it all, his hand in Zara’s, her grip firm and grounding. There was something in her touch, a quiet strength that steadied him, even as a strange ache stirred in his chest.
“Do you remember this?” Zara asked, her voice soft, almost wistful. Her eyes were fixed on the festival, but there was something guarded in her expression.
Seeker hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the scene. There was a pull to it, something deep and unspoken, as if the memories were just out of reach, waiting for him to stretch far enough to catch them.
“I…” He frowned, the words catching in his throat. “It feels like I should.”
Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “I thought you might.”
For a moment, it was enough to let the scene wash over him, the laughter, the flicker of lanterns, the warmth of her hand in his. But then the fireflies began to change.
At first, it was subtle. Their soft, golden glow flickered, growing sharper, harsher. They darted faster, their lazy movements replaced by something frantic, their arcs jagged and erratic.
The air shifted, the warmth bleeding away as a chill settled over the field. The breeze carried a new sound now, something sharp, distant.
The fireflies’ golden light dimmed, replaced by flashes of blue and red. The children’s laughter faltered, their movements slowing as they turned their eyes to the sky. The music stopped mid note, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.
And then came the screams.
The sky above the festival darkened, the horizon blooming with streaks of fiery light. At first, Seeker thought they were more fireflies, larger and brighter, but the realization hit him like a blow. These weren’t fireflies, they were something else entirely.
Streaks of light tore through the heavens, jagged and violent, their glow illuminating the clouds with bursts of red and blue. They left trails of smoke in their wake, arcing toward the earth like falling stars.
“What…?” Seeker murmured, his voice lost in the rising tide of panic.
The first explosion shattered the stillness, a burst of fire and light that erupted in the distance. The ground shook beneath their feet, and the peaceful hum of the festival dissolved into chaos.
People screamed, their voices high and terrified, as they scattered like leaves caught in a gale. The lanterns swayed violently, their strings snapping, the wooden poles toppling as people tripped and stumbled over one another in their desperation to flee.
The air grew thick with smoke, the acrid tang of burning metal and something sharper, something chemical.
Zara didn’t move, her grip on Seeker’s hand unyielding as the chaos unfolded. Her expression was calm, too calm, her eyes fixed on the fiery horizon.
“They’re coming,” she said quietly.
Seeker’s gaze followed hers, his chest tightening as he saw them.
They emerged from the smoke like specters, their silhouettes sharp and angular against the burning sky. Towering figures, their forms glinted with metallic edges, their limbs unnatural and jagged. Their movements were precise, mechanical, each step deliberate as they advanced.
Weapons jutted from their arms, strange and humming with an eerie glow. When they fired, streaks of molten light shot forth, striking with devastating accuracy. The beams tore through anything in their path, flesh, wood, stone. The sounds of their weapons were high pitched and wrong, like a scream caught in reverse, cutting through the chaos with brutal finality.
Seeker watched in horror as one of the hunters turned toward a fleeing family. The beam of light struck the father first, his body crumpling mid stride, his hand still outstretched toward his child. The mother screamed, shielding the child with her body, but the next blast found them both.
“They’re not human,” Seeker said, the words trembling from his lips.
“No,” Zara replied, her voice steady, her eyes still on the horizon. “They never were.”
Seeker felt his heart pounding in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to run, to do something. But his body wouldn’t move. The fireflies were gone now, replaced entirely by the deadly glow of the firefights in the sky.
And the world twisted again.
Seeker’s gaze shifted, drawn to movement ahead. Two figures darted through the smoke, a younger Seeker and Zara, their faces smeared with soot and determination. They carried strange weapons, long and gleaming, their barrels humming faintly. When the weapons fired, they spat bolts of molten light, searing through the darkness with deadly precision.
“We always ran,” Zara said, still holding his hand. Her tone was gentle, but there was something in it, a note of sorrow. “Ran from them. Until one fool didn’t.”
Seeker watched as the younger version of himself turned, his face a mixture of fear and resolve. He wasn’t running anymore. He was charging straight into the chaos, his weapon blazing. Zara from the past screamed his name, but he didn’t stop.
“Ran to danger,” Zara whispered, her eyes fixed on the past. “So others wouldn’t have to.”
The scene shifted again.
Seeker’s body lay broken, carried by trembling hands through narrow halls lit by flickering emergency lights. The walls were scorched and cracked, the remnants of a world under siege. Shadows danced erratically across the corridor as the rescuers hurried, their faces pale with exhaustion and fear.
“Healing pod is secure,” one said, his voice tight with urgency.
“They’ll never find him here,” said another, their tone heavy with grim determination. “We’ll come back for him, when it’s safe.”
The words seemed hollow, fragile, as though spoken to convince themselves as much as the others.
The chamber they entered was vast and cavernous, its walls lined with shimmering veins of raw mana that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. The air was thick with it, heavy and electric, and the faint hum of energy filled the silence between their words.
The pod stood in the center, a sleek, cylindrical construct of strange alloy and faintly glowing sigils. Its surface seemed to drink in the ambient mana, the veins across its body flaring faintly as the rescuers lowered Seeker into its cradle.
The pod’s doors slid closed with a soft hiss, the seals locking into place with a finality that echoed in the chamber.
“Safe,” one whispered, though their voice trembled with doubt.
But the cave groaned in protest. The ground beneath them trembled, loose stones tumbling from above.
“Go!” another voice shouted, the rescuers scattering just as the ceiling began to collapse.
The last thing Seeker saw, or perhaps the last thing the memory allowed him to see. was the darkness swallowing everything.
At first, there was nothing. Just silence.
But the cave wasn’t truly silent. Deep within, the mana whispered, an ancient hum that resonated through the rock and soil. It pooled in the veins along the walls, glowing faintly, seeping into the cracks left by the collapse.
The pod responded, its sigils flaring in recognition.
The mana wasn’t passive. It was alive, in a way that defied understanding. It flowed like a river, pooling around the pod, its currents drawn toward the faint glow emanating from within. The sigils twisted and shifted, their shapes fluid as they adapted to the surge of energy.
The pod began to change.
Its surface cracked, the lines jagged but purposeful, like the breaking of an ancient shell. The glow from within grew brighter, spilling out through the fractures in pulsing waves. The mana in the cave shifted, no longer seeping passively into the pod but surging toward it, drawn by something deeper.
The air was heavy now, humming with a resonance that pressed against the walls of the cave. The mana veins glowed fiercely, their light feeding into the pod until it seemed less like a constructed device and more like something alive, breathing.
And then it stopped.
The light dimmed, softening into a faint blue glow that radiated gently outward. The pod no longer pulsed with the urgency of awakening but settled into something calmer, its presence humming faintly, patiently.
Seeker’s heart tightened as he recognized the place.
It wasn’t just a cave. It was the shard.
The very place where the farm girl had found him, who knows how much later. The pieces clicked into place, sharp and clear, and he felt the weight of it settle over him.
The shard hadn’t just been where he was found. It was where he began.
The faint sound of wings broke the silence, a soft hum that was somehow familiar, grounding. Seeker turned his head just slightly, enough to catch the faint shimmer of light out of the corner of his eye.
And there she was, Faye, perched on his shoulder, her tiny form glowing softly against the darkness. She sat cross legged, her usual smirk softened by something quieter, almost wistful. Her wings, translucent and faintly iridescent, folded gently behind her as she leaned forward to study him.
“You know,” she began, her voice lilting, teasing but with an edge of something else, “anyone else would be dust of dust by now. Just a little smear on the wind.” She tilted her head, her glowing eyes narrowing as she regarded him. “But no. Not you.”
Seeker didn’t respond, his shadow gaze meeting hers. His silence was heavy, contemplative, but not unkind.
Faye stretched lazily, her wings flickering as she yawned with exaggerated drama. “You were nurtured by the world itself, and you still couldn’t make it easy, could you? Oh no, not Seeker. You don’t just let go like anyone else would, clean and simple, like ripping off a bandage. You jump. You dive. You crash. And now, instead of some powerful disciple, I’ve got…”
She gestured at him with a tiny hand, her smirk sharpening. “This. A foolhardy magus who thinks he can carry the storm on his back. Lucky me.”
Seeker’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile. “You’d be bored if I didn’t.”
“True,” Faye admitted with a little shrug, her grin widening. “But you’re still an idiot.”
Her wings fluttered slightly as she stood, balancing easily on his shoulder. For a moment, she stared out at the darkness with him, her expression turning solemn again.
“You don’t make it easy,” she said softly, the teasing edge gone. Her gaze flicked back to him, and there was something raw in her eyes, something that didn’t often surface. “You never do. You take the long road, the hard one. Every. Single. Time.”
Seeker’s smile faded, replaced by something quieter, something tired. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”
Faye huffed, folding her arms as she paced along his shoulder. “Oh, it’d matter. You’d be dead.” She turned sharply, pointing at him with mock indignation. “You don’t get to act like a tragic hero here, you know. Anyone else would’ve been obliterated, scattered into the void. But you?” She waved a hand toward him. “You don’t just survive. You break things when you let go, rules, limits, reality. The world itself decides to step in and catch you because, apparently, you’re worth the trouble.”
She sat back down, her voice softer now. “And you know why, don’t you?”
Seeker didn’t answer, but his gaze shifted, the glow in his eyes dimming slightly.
Faye leaned forward, her tone firm but gentle. “Because you’re not foreign to it. You’re not separate from the storm, the mana, the chaos. You’ve been nurtured by this world, shaped by it. And now? Now it’s part of you. Just like you’re part of it.”
For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the faint hum of mana filling the air around them.
Then Faye rose to her feet again, her wings spreading wide. Their glow cut through the darkness, shimmering like the first rays of dawn breaking over a shadowed horizon.
“Come on, then,” she said, her voice lighter now, a touch of her usual mirth returning. “We’ve got a world to show that change has arrived. You’ve decided to be the big moon, the one that casts shadows, the one no one can ignore. Fine. But don’t think that means you’re done.”
Her grin sharpened. “Change isn’t some little ripple, Seeker. It’s a tidal wave. It washes over everything, every corner, every holdout. Battle by battle, step by step.”
She turned, her glowing eyes meeting his shadow gaze. “And we still have our first one to win.”
Seeker inhaled deeply, the faint remnants of the storm within him steadying. The weight of her words settled on his shoulders, heavy but not crushing.
Faye’s wings flickered as she kicked off lightly, hovering in front of him. “You ready, or do you need another moment to brood?”
His faint smile returned, just for a second. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” she said with a smirk, darting upward and circling his head once before zipping forward into the glow. “Because the world’s not going to change itself.”