"Something dangerous is coming to the Aldervale, and you need to hear me out."

Rhylen studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable. He doesn't dismiss her outright, which gives her a sliver of hope. "What kind of danger?" he asks, crossing his arms.

Elorin swallows hard. "An invasion. Shadows—creatures from the abyss. They're coming, led by someone named Varkos. I've seen it happen."

"Seen it?" Rhylen raises an eyebrow. "How could you have seen something that hasn't happened?"

Elorin hesitates. How does she explain this without sounding completely insane? "I... I don't know how to explain it, but I've seen it happen before. The ground splits open, shadows pour out, and the village is destroyed. They killed me, Rhylen. I died. And then I woke up, right back here."

His eyes narrow as he processes her words. "You're saying time reset?"

"Yes." She nods, her voice trembling slightly. "I know it sounds impossible, but it's true. I've lived through this day before. And it's going to happen again. We need to stop it."

Rhylen's gaze flicks down to the satchel at her side. "And the relic?"

Elorin stiffens. "How do you know about the relic?"

"You just told me," he says calmly. "You told me before, in a different version of this conversation."

Elorin's breath catches. He's remembering. It's faint, but he's starting to remember.

"That's why you came to me, isn't it?" Rhylen continues. "You've been through this loop before, and in one of them, you told me about the relic."

Elorin's pulse quickens. "Yes. Yes, that's exactly it. You don't remember everything, but you're starting to. That means there's hope. We can change things, Rhylen. We don't have to let the invasion happen."

Rhylen looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard as he processes everything. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he says. "I don't know how much of this I believe, but if what you're saying is true, we need a plan."

Relief floods Elorin's chest. She nods, her heart racing. "We have to figure out how to stop the invasion before it starts. Last time, it happened at dusk, but there has to be a way to stop it earlier. Maybe the relic is the key."

"You think the relic caused the loop?" Rhylen asks.

"I'm not sure," Elorin admits. "But ever since I touched it, everything has been different. It's like the relic is connected to the magic affecting time."

Rhylen glances at her satchel again. "We need to figure out what that relic is and how it works. If it's connected to the invasion, then it could either be the cause or the solution."

Elorin nods. "I thought about going to the Vale Council, but they won't believe me. They think everything's fine, and by the time they realize the truth, it'll be too late."

"Then we'll have to do this ourselves," Rhylen says, his voice steady. "I've got a few contacts in the Ironhold who might know more about relics like this. They deal with old magic all the time."

"Ironhold?" Elorin's heart sinks. The Ironhold is far from the Aldervale, deep within the realm of hardened warriors. If they're to travel there, it'll take time—and they may not have enough of it.

Rhylen seems to sense her hesitation. "I know it's a risk, but if we don't figure out what we're dealing with, we're walking into this blind. The relic may be our only chance to stop Varkos and his army."

Elorin bites her lip. "Alright. But we'll need to move fast. The invasion could happen at any moment."

"Agreed," Rhylen says, his expression serious. "Gather what you need. We leave for the Ironhold by dusk."

Elorin watches him walk away, her mind swirling with everything that's happened—and everything that's yet to come. The weight of the relic presses against her side, a constant reminder of the danger they're in. As she turns to prepare for the journey ahead, something strange stirs inside her.

A faint warmth spreads through her chest, starting from where the relic rests against her skin. It's not unpleasant—if anything, it feels comforting, familiar. But it's also unsettling. She stops, her hand instinctively reaching for the relic as the warmth intensifies, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

And then, for a brief moment, the world shifts.

It's subtle—so subtle that Elorin almost misses it. But she feels it. The ground beneath her seems to tremble, just for an instant, and the air around her grows heavy, charged with something she can't quite place. The faint buzz of magic hums in her ears, and for a split second, she sees the trees around her blur, their edges softening like an unfinished painting.

And then it's gone.

Elorin blinks, her breath catching in her throat. She glances around, but everything is normal again. The village is still bustling, the market still full of life. But she knows what she felt. The relic did something. It shifted reality, even if only for a moment.

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Her heart races as she pulls the relic from her satchel, staring down at it in her hand. It's faint, but the symbols etched into its surface glow with a soft, golden light. The warmth in her chest fades as the glow dims, leaving her with more questions than answers.

What is this thing?

There's no time to dwell on it now. They need to get to the Ironhold, and fast. But as she tucks the relic away and heads back to her cottage to prepare, one thought lingers in the back of her mind.

The relic is more powerful than she realized. And if she's going to survive what's coming, she'll have to learn how to control it.

Elorin hurries through the streets of the Aldervale village, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. The warmth from the relic still lingers in her chest, pulsing softly in sync with her heartbeat. It's a constant reminder that time is running out, that the invasion could happen at any moment. She has no idea how much time they have left, but she knows one thing for certain—she and Rhylen need to leave for the Ironhold immediately.

The Ironhold isn't close, and traveling there will take time. Time they don't have. But it's their only chance. The relic is connected to this strange loop, and if they can figure out what it is and how it works, they might be able to stop the invasion before it happens.

As she reaches her small cottage on the edge of the village, Elorin rushes inside and grabs her pack. She doesn't have much—just a few clothes, her pruning tools, and a small blade she's never used in a real fight. Her hands shake as she stuffs the essentials into her bag, her mind running over everything that's happened. The loop, the invasion, Varkos… the relic.

She pulls it from her satchel again, staring down at it in her palm. The symbols etched into its surface glow faintly, almost as if it's alive. The warmth it gives off is strange but not unpleasant. Yet it fills her with unease. The relic holds power, but she doesn't understand it. Not yet.

"I'll figure it out," she whispers to herself, her fingers tightening around the relic. "I have to."

A sharp knock on the door startles her, and she tucks the relic back into her satchel as Rhylen enters without waiting for an invitation. His presence fills the small room instantly, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the floor. His expression is grim, and Elorin can tell he's just as aware of the urgency as she is.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of tension.

Elorin nods. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Rhylen's dark eyes flicker to her satchel, and he gives a slight nod. "We don't have much time. The Ironhold is a day's ride from here if we don't stop."

She follows him out into the street, where the day is beginning to fade into evening. The sky glows with the colors of dusk, painting the village in soft golds and pinks. It's a beautiful scene, but Elorin can't appreciate it. Not when she knows that in another version of this day, the ground will split open and shadows will pour into the Aldervale.

"We'll make it," Rhylen says as if reading her thoughts.

Elorin forces herself to breathe steadily. "I hope you're right."

Together, they make their way toward the stables on the outskirts of the village. Rhylen seems to know exactly where they're going, and Elorin follows him, keeping her eyes open for any sign of danger. Her senses are on high alert, and every shadow seems to flicker with the possibility of threat.

They arrive at the stables, where Rhylen's horse is already saddled and waiting. The creature is large and strong, with sleek black fur and intelligent eyes that watch Elorin as she approaches. Rhylen mounts easily, his movements practiced, and he holds out a hand to help Elorin up behind him.

"Hold on tight," he says, his voice low as she settles behind him. "It's going to be a rough ride."

Elorin wraps her arms around his waist, her heart pounding in her chest. The relic presses against her side, its presence both reassuring and unsettling at the same time. She has no idea what lies ahead, but she knows they can't afford to fail.

With a sharp nudge of his heels, Rhylen urges the horse into a gallop, and they race out of the village and into the dense forest that surrounds the Aldervale. The trees blur past them as they ride, their branches swaying in the wind like silent sentinels watching them go. The world feels alive around them, the forest buzzing with magic and energy.

The ride is long and grueling, and Elorin's muscles ache from holding on. But there's no time to stop. Not if they want to reach the Ironhold before the invasion happens. The sky darkens as night falls, and soon the only light comes from the twin moons overhead, casting a pale glow over the landscape.

Elorin's mind whirls with thoughts of what they might find in the Ironhold. Rhylen had said that there were people there—people who understood old magic. Maybe they'd be able to explain the relic, tell her why it keeps resetting time and how she can use it to stop Varkos.

The hours pass in tense silence, the steady rhythm of the horse's hooves the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. Elorin's grip tightens on Rhylen as they near the end of the forest, and she glances up at the sky. The moons are high now, casting long shadows across the ground. They'll be at the Ironhold soon.

But just as she begins to feel a flicker of hope, something shifts in the air.

A sudden chill rushes through her, and the relic in her satchel pulses again, stronger this time. Elorin's heart skips a beat as she feels it—a ripple of energy that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Rhylen feels it too. He pulls the horse to a stop, his body tensing beneath her as he scans the surrounding forest. "Something's wrong," he mutters.

Elorin's breath catches as she reaches for the relic, pulling it from her satchel. Its glow is brighter now, the symbols on its surface pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She feels the energy surging through her, like the relic is trying to tell her something. Warn her.

"Varkos," she whispers.

Rhylen's head snaps toward her. "What?"

Before she can answer, the ground beneath them trembles. The horse whinnies in panic, its hooves shifting uneasily as the earth shakes. Elorin clutches Rhylen tightly, her heart racing.

It's happening again.

"Move!" Rhylen shouts, urging the horse forward. They gallop down the path, but the shaking grows stronger, the ground splitting open just as Elorin had seen before. Dark energy spills from the fissures, swirling up into the sky like a living nightmare.

Shadows pour from the cracks in the earth, their forms flickering and twisting as they rise. Elorin gasps, her hands tightening around the relic as the shadows move toward them, their pale eyes glowing with malevolent intent.

"It's just like before!" Elorin shouts over the sound of the rumbling earth. "They're here for the relic!"

Rhylen curses under his breath, pulling the horse sharply to the left as they try to outrun the shadows. But they're fast—faster than Elorin remembers—and they're gaining on them. Her heart pounds in her chest, fear surging through her as she clutches the relic tighter.

The shadows are almost upon them when a sharp pain shoots through Elorin's chest, and she gasps, doubling over. The relic pulses violently in her hand, its light blinding, and she feels something shift inside her. The world around her blurs, and for a brief moment, everything goes dark.

When she opens her eyes again, they're back in the forest, the shadows gone.

But something is different.

Rhylen pulls the horse to a stop, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he glances back at her. "What just happened?"

Elorin blinks, her hand still gripping the relic tightly. "I… I don't know."

But deep down, she does. The relic saved them. It did something—shifted time again.

And now she knows. It's not just a tool. It's a weapon