The dining hall was vast, its vaulted ceiling adorned with glowing runes that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. Rowen's footsteps echoed as she followed Dryanden toward the long table. The air felt heavier than before, charged with a magic that made her skin buzz. At the far end of the table, Lady Selene stood waiting, her sharp gaze sweeping over them with the weight of someone who already knew the answers to the questions she was about to ask.
Rowen hesitated at the threshold, the faint glow of her crescent mark pulsing against her wrist. She flexed her fingers, trying to shake off the unease. Dryanden, however, stepped forward without hesitation, his movements measured but deliberate. He radiated calm, but she'd been around him long enough now to notice the subtle tension in his shoulders.
Lady Selene gestured toward the table. "Please, sit," she said, her voice smooth, unyielding.
Rowen exchanged a glance with Dryanden, but his expression remained unreadable. He pulled out a chair for her before taking his own seat across the table. Lady Selene remained standing, her gaze flicking between them as though she were sizing up a chessboard.
"This mission," she began, her tone formal, "will not be simple. It will require precision, fortitude, and trust. Without all three, you will fail—and failure is not an option."
Rowen swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "What exactly are we facing?"
Selene's lips curved into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it. "You will be tasked with ensuring the stability of the ancient wards." She turned to Rowen and continued, "Their protective seals that, if broken, could bring catastrophic consequences to Vireth."
Rowen straightened in her chair, the weight of Selene's words pressing down on her chest. She thought of the voice from the mirror, the ominous prophecy still ringing in her ears. You don't know who you are… but you will.
Dryanden's voice cut through the growing silence, steady but edged. "What caused the wards to falter?"
Selene inclined her head slightly, as though she'd been expecting the question. "The seals have been weakening for some time, but the recent disturbances—the ones tied to Rowen's awakening—have accelerated their decay. If left unchecked, they will collapse."
Rowen flinched at the mention of her name, her cheeks burning. She didn't know whether to feel defensive or ashamed. "So this is… because of me?"
Selene's piercing gaze settled on her, and for a moment, Rowen felt completely exposed. "You are not the cause," Selene said, her tone softer now but no less deliberate. "You are the catalyst. There is a difference."
Rowen wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse.
"Where are the wards located?" Dryanden asked, his tone brisk, businesslike.
Selene's gaze flicked to him, and the air seemed to grow colder. "There are many you need to get to, but the primary seal lies beyond the Stormveil Rift, but its protection extends to several nearby villages, all of which have begun to suffer the effects of its instability. Your path will take you through each of them."
Rowen glanced at Dryanden, who had gone rigid in his seat. "What kind of effects are we talking about?" she asked.
Selene's expression darkened, the faint glow of the runes above casting eerie shadows across her face. "Creatures corrupted by untamed magic. Weather patterns turned violent and unpredictable. Entire settlements succumbing to chaos. The usual consequences of a failing ward."
Rowen's stomach churned. The usual consequences? The way Selene said it made it sound so clinical, but the images it conjured in Rowen's mind were anything but.
She clenched her fists under the table, trying to will away the knot of fear tightening in her chest. "And how are we supposed to fix it?"
Selene's gaze sharpened, her silver-blue eyes glinting like blades. "You." She said simply. "But you won't be alone. I've tasked someone with training you and your magic."
Rowen straightened in her seat, the weight of the conversation pressing against her chest.
Could she control her magic?
Across the table, Dryanden's expression remained carefully composed, but she noticed the faint tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against the arm of his chair.
"Someone will meet you at the first village," Selene continued, her sharp gaze shifting between them. "A guide. Someone uniquely qualified to ensure your mission's success."
Dryanden's hand froze mid-motion, the faintest twitch of his fingers betraying his unease. His voice, when it came, was low and measured. "Who?"
Selene's lips curved into the faintest semblance of a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Thalor."
The name landed in the room like a stone dropped into still water. Rowen blinked, confused, but before she could even form the question, Dryanden's reaction cut through her thoughts like a blade.
"No," he said flatly, his voice cold and unyielding.
Selene didn't so much as flinch. "It is not a request."
"I said no." Dryanden stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His crimson eyes burned with a fury that Rowen hadn't seen before.
Rowen glanced between them, her pulse quickening. "Wait," she said, her voice unsteady. "Who is Thalor? Why is this such a problem?"
"It's not your concern," Dryanden snapped, the sharpness in his tone making her flinch.
Selene raised a hand, silencing any retort Rowen might have made. Her tone was icy and firm. "Thalor is necessary for this mission. His expertise in magical stabilization is unmatched. Without him, your chances of success are negligible."
"I don't care," Dryanden said, his voice rising. "Find someone else."
"There is no one else," Selene said, her patience thinning. Her eyes flashed as she turned fully toward him. "You know this, Dryanden. You've always known."
Rowen sat frozen, caught between the two of them. She had never seen Dryanden lose control like this, and the sight of it was both startling and unnerving.
"Dryanden," she ventured carefully, "can we just—"
"This is not up for debate," Selene interrupted, her voice commanding. "Thalor's involvement is vital. You would do well to remember your place in this, Prince of the Celestial Line."
Rowen's breath hitched as Dryanden's face darkened. His composure cracked further, and the restrained fury in his voice now threatened to explode.
"Don't," he growled. "Don't you dare throw that title in my face."
"It's not a title," Selene shot back, her tone like a whip. "It's a responsibility. One you cannot simply discard when it becomes inconvenient."
Rowen's gaze darted between them, her hands gripping the edge of the table. She couldn't make sense of the sudden tension, couldn't understand why this Thalor person had caused such an intense reaction.
"What's going on?" she demanded, her voice rising over the noise. "Who is Thalor, and why does it matter so much?"
Dryanden turned on her, his eyes flashing. "It doesn't matter because we're not working with him. End of discussion."
Rowen bristled at his tone. "Excuse me? You don't get to just decide that for both of us!"
"You don't know what you're asking," he shot back, his voice rough. "This isn't about you, Rowen."
"Maybe it should be!" she retorted, standing now to meet his glare. "If this mission is as important as everyone keeps saying, then don't I deserve to know what's going on? Don't I have a right to understand what I'm walking into?"
Dryanden's jaw clenched, but he said nothing, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Enough," Selene said sharply, her gaze like steel as it fixed on Dryanden. "This is not a personal matter. Thalor's role is non-negotiable. If you cannot set aside your grievances, you jeopardize the entire mission—and Vireth along with it."
Rowen's stomach churned at the gravity in her words. She looked to Dryanden, hoping for some hint of explanation, but his expression was hard and closed off, his silence more telling than any outburst could have been.
"Dryanden," she said again, her tone softening. "If this is really that bad, then tell me why. Help me understand."
"I don't owe you an explanation," he snapped, his voice a low growl.
Rowen's temper flared. "No, but maybe you owe it to yourself—to this bond—to stop acting like you're the only one who matters here!"
Dryanden turned away, his back rigid as he took several measured breaths. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and controlled, the fury beneath it barely contained.
"I told you before," he said without looking at her, "I left that life behind for a reason. I won't go back. Not for him."
The venom in his tone made Rowen falter. Whoever this Thalor was, it was clear that their history ran deeper than anything she could guess.
Selene watched the exchange in silence, her expression unreadable. When she spoke again, her voice was calm but firm. "This is not about your past, Dryanden. It is about the future of Vireth. Thalor is the key to Rowen stabilizing the seals, without him, we are lost."
Dryanden whirled on her, his composure finally shattering. "You think I care about the seals? About this prophecy? You think I'll let you drag me back into that—back to him?"
Rowen flinched at the raw anger in his voice, but Selene didn't so much as blink.
"Yes," she said simply, her gaze resolute. "Because you have no other choice."
The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. Rowen looked between them, her chest tight as she tried to make sense of what she was witnessing.
"Dryanden," she said hesitantly, her voice shaking. "Maybe—maybe she's right. If this is what it takes to—"
"No!" he barked, the word echoing off the stone walls. He turned toward her, his expression a mix of anger and something else—something she couldn't quite name. "You don't understand, Rowen. You can't."
"Then explain it to me!" she shot back, her frustration boiling over. "Stop shutting me out and let me help you!"
Dryanden's gaze locked with hers, the storm in his crimson eyes unrelenting. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, might finally let her in—but then he shook his head, stepping back.
"I can't," he said quietly, his voice hollow now.
The words hung between them like a chasm, impossible to cross.
Rowen turned to Selene, her heart pounding. "We'll do it," she said, her voice trembling but resolute.
Dryanden's head snapped toward her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Rowen—"
"We'll do it," she repeated, cutting him off. She met Selene's gaze, ignoring the tension in the room. "Tell us what we need to know."
Selene inclined her head slightly, a flicker of approval in her otherwise stoic expression. "As you wish."
Dryanden took a step back, his shoulders rigid. "You don't know what you're getting us into," he said darkly.
Rowen turned to him, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. "Maybe not. But I'm not going to stand by and do nothing."
Dryanden's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned sharply on his heel and stormed out of the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.
Rowen's flinched, and she stared at the doors, her pulse thundering in her ears.
Selene's voice broke the silence, low and cryptic. "You're stronger than you realize, Rowen. We've all been waiting for you to see it."
Rowen turned to her, but before she could respond, Selene gestured toward the doors.
"Go," Selene said, her tone softer now. "He needs time. And so do you."
Rowen hesitated for only a moment before rushing after Dryanden, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and determination.