Morning came softly, filtered through the tall trees that lined the Ember Path. The camp stirred slowly, no urgent alarms, no smell of smoke or blood, just the quiet rhythm of people waking. A rare peace, fragile as spider silk.
Eira woke before most. She didn't feel rested, but she hadn't expected to. Her dreams had been a tangle of voices and fire, and through it all, the whisper of the shard beneath her skin humming in time with the path. It wasn't speaking, not exactly. But it was aware.
She stretched and stood, brushing the damp leaves from her cloak, and moved to check on the villagers. Some were already packing, others still huddled beneath their blankets. Lena knelt beside an older man, her hands pressed gently to his chest. Light shimmered faintly from her palms, like frost under moonlight.
Eira approached. "How is he?"
"He'll walk," Lena said, not looking up. Her voice was calm, but her face was pale. "Cracked ribs. I've done what I can."
"You've done more than most," Eira said quietly.
Lena smiled, but there was a tremble in it. "I used to patch up scraped knees and bruises back in Hollowmere. Now I'm resetting bones and pulling fever from lungs. I didn't ask for this, Eira."
"I know," Eira said, and she meant it.
Lena glanced toward the path. "But if I can help, if this is what the magic chose for me then I won't run from it."
Behind them, Kaela strode past, her movements clipped and efficient. Her sword was already strapped to her back, her expression unreadable. Eira caught a glimpse of something in her, guilt, maybe, or restlessness but Kaela said nothing and disappeared into the trees.
Torin sat near the edge of the path, wrapping a new cloth over his injured leg. His usual smirk was dulled by fatigue, though not entirely extinguished.
"You're limping worse today," Eira said, crouching beside him.
"Funny, I thought I was dancing," he muttered, wincing as he tied the knot. "Don't worry, Commander. I'll keep up."
"You don't have to prove anything."
"I'm not. I just… I want to see where this leads. That's all."
His gaze drifted beyond her shoulder, toward where the golden stones continued through the forest. A warm breeze stirred the leaves above them. For a moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath.
Thorne emerged from the woods a few moments later, a rabbit slung over his shoulder. He tossed it to Kaela, who caught it without flinching.
"Food," he said.
"Fresh kill?" Kaela asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Quiet kill," Thorne replied. "Didn't disturb the path."
Kaela turned away, muttering something under her breath. Thorne's eyes flicked to Eira, lingering. She met his gaze and saw it clearly now concern, buried deep but unmistakable. Not just for her. For all of them.
He crossed the clearing and stopped beside her. "We should move. There's a bend ahead where the stones narrow. Could be a choke point."
"Could be nothing," Eira said.
Thorne gave a half-smile. "Hope for nothing. Plan for worse."
They broke camp swiftly. No one complained. The villagers moved with grim determination, stepping onto the Ember Path as though it were sacred. Perhaps it was.
As they walked, the trees grew taller, their trunks wide enough to hide houses behind. Moss hung in long sheets from the branches. Birds sang in the canopy above, but their melodies felt… wrong. Slowed. Distant. Like echoes from a forgotten dream.
Hours passed. The golden glow beneath their feet never faded.
Eventually, the path led them to a narrow ravine where the stones dipped into a shallow stream. The group slowed, hesitant.
Eira stepped forward first. Her boot splashed into the water, and the glow followed her. The stream didn't extinguish it. Instead, the light brightened, stretching across the water like it belonged there.
Lena gasped softly. "It's… leading us."
"No," Eira said. "It's remembering."
They crossed carefully. On the far bank, the trees opened into a glade filled with tall grass and wildflowers. For the first time in days, the sun reached them unfiltered.
Eira halted. Something about this place felt… familiar. Not from her own memories, but from someone else's. Her mother's? The shard's? She didn't know.
Thorne stopped beside her. "What is this?"
"I don't know. But we should rest. Just for a little while."
Kaela scouted the edges, tense as ever. Lena tended to the children. Torin helped gather wood, though he grumbled the whole time.
And Eira sat beneath a tall silver-barked tree and closed her eyes. The breeze stirred her hair. A bird sang overhead. For a fleeting heartbeat, she imagined a world where this was normal. Safe.
Thorne sat nearby, his blade in his lap.
She looked at him. "You've been quiet."
He shrugged. "Watching."
"For what?"
"For the moment this all falls apart," he said. "Because something always does."
Eira exhaled. "I used to believe that. But now… I don't know. Maybe this path is trying to show us something different."
He met her gaze. "Or maybe it's testing you."
She smiled faintly. "And how am I doing?"
A pause. Then, "Better than I expected."
Eira laughed, and it caught them both off guard. She hadn't meant to. But it felt good. Real. For the first time in days, she felt lighter.
"Stay close," she said softly.
"I always do."