Night had fallen again, soft and blue.
The fire was low.The heroes slept close, their bond stronger now than ever.
But Alari did not sleep.She remembered.
🌙 The Dream Returns
She stood in a place she'd never seen before:
A tower without doors.
A sky where the stars were afraid to shine.
And wings—a thousand of them—folded like prayer, weeping light into the void.
She was small, but not herself.
Her hands were not her hands.Her voice was not her voice.
"I failed him," she heard herself say."I followed… but I did not believe."
💫 The Vision Deepens
She saw:
A ring of nine thrones, all empty but one.
A figure of shadowed beauty, not monstrous—but incomplete.
Elarion… not as a god, but as a brother, reaching across the void with open arms.
And the moment the shadow turned away…
The thrones shattered.The stars screamed.The Veil was born.
"I remember it now," Alari whispered in the dream."But it's not mine.It never was."
🕯️ She Wakes
She gasped aloud—sitting up in Kael's arms.He steadied her. Seren and Vaelrix were already rising, weapons half-drawn.
"What did you see?" Kael asked gently.
Alari clutched her chest.
"A fall. A choice.A name that wasn't mine… but I remember it like it was."
"It's like someone put a soul inside me…and it's still trying to speak."
The fire flickered—in rhythm with her heartbeat.