They ran until the forest broke apart, giving way to jagged hills and ancient stones cracked with time. Emberlynn's lungs burned, her heartbeat pounding like a war drum. The mist had thinned, but the cold remained—clinging to her skin like a warning.
Malphas didn't slow. Not even when they crossed the shattered ruins of an old gate, its arch carved with symbols that pulsed faintly under the moonlight. Emberlynn stumbled after him, unsure whether her trembling legs came from exhaustion or fear.
When they finally stopped, it was on a ridge overlooking a black, unmoving lake. The water didn't reflect the sky. It was void-like, swallowing the light. And yet, Emberlynn felt something in it watching her.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. "What... what is this place?"
Malphas stood still, his cloak swirling behind him in the breeze. "Safe. For now."
"That's not an answer," she snapped, her frustration rising again. "I'm sick of half-truths and riddles."
He turned slowly, meeting her gaze. His eyes glinted, not with anger—but something older. Something tired.
"You think I don't want to tell you everything?" he asked quietly. "You think I enjoy dragging you through shadow and blood without giving you the full picture?"
"Then tell me," she whispered, stepping closer. "Tell me who I am. Tell me what you are."
Malphas's jaw tightened. The wind rustled the trees around them, carrying the low, distant hum of the Hollow Court like a storm rolling in from the distance.
"You are a key," he said at last. "To a door that must never open. That's why they hunt you. That's why they'll never stop."
Emberlynn flinched, but didn't back away. "And you? Why are you helping me?"
There was a pause. A long one. Malphas turned from her then, staring at the lake. His voice, when he spoke, was nearly drowned by the wind.
"Because I know what's behind that door."
Something in the way he said it made her stomach twist. She stepped closer. "You've seen it?"
"I was part of it," he said, almost too softly.
Emberlynn stared at his back. "What are you, Malphas?"
His head dropped, just slightly.
"I am the last of the ones who tried to stop it. And the only one left who remembers what we let loose when we failed."
That wasn't an answer, not fully—but it felt closer to the truth than anything he'd told her before.
"Then why didn't you leave me?" she asked, voice trembling. "Why not let the Hollow Court take me if I'm just a key to something dangerous?"
Malphas turned to her slowly, his gaze unreadable. "Because you're more than that now. They underestimated you. So did I."
Their eyes locked.
Something unspoken passed between them—something that had been building since the moment they met in the ruins, since the first time she saw the darkness in his eyes and didn't flinch.
The tension tightened like a bowstring.
But Emberlynn looked away first, blinking as her mind flooded with questions again. "Why do they call me the Paragon Key? What does that even mean?"
Malphas inhaled slowly. "It means you carry the essence of what binds the realms. Not just blood. Not just power. Something older—an inheritance buried in your soul."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "And if they get it—if they take me—what happens?"
He didn't answer.
The silence was worse than any words.
"Tell me," she demanded.
Malphas walked past her slowly, his shadow stretching across the dirt. "The veil between the realms will tear. And the thing sealed on the other side—it won't stay sleeping."
A shiver ran down her spine. "So I'm a lock, and they want to use me as a key."
"Yes," he said without turning. "And the worst part is... it's not even their decision."
Emberlynn frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You'll be tempted," he said. "That's how it works. The key never breaks on its own—it opens willingly."
She swallowed hard.
And suddenly, she remembered the voice from the Hollow Court. Her mother's voice. It hadn't just been illusion—it had felt real. Comforting. Luring.
Malphas was watching her again, but this time, his expression had changed. It was guarded. As though he already saw what path she might choose—and was afraid of it.
"What if I choose wrong?" she asked quietly.
"Then I will do what I must," he said, voice low. "Even if it means killing you."
The world froze for a beat.
Emberlynn stared at him, searching his face for a sign he didn't mean it. But she found none. Only that same quiet resolve.
And strangely, she didn't fear him for it. She feared what would drive him to that point. What she might become.
The wind picked up again.
From the edge of the lake, a ripple broke the surface. Something stirred beneath.
Malphas's eyes narrowed.
"We have to go," he said. "They're coming."
Emberlynn felt a pulse of power surge through her veins, awakening something half-dormant. It felt ancient. Fierce.
And not entirely human.
She looked at Malphas one last time before they vanished into the shadows once more.