They moved again at dusk, when the sun lay low behind the treetops and the wildflowers closed like sleeping eyes. No one spoke much as they packed their belongings. Even the children were subdued, their laughter from earlier now a hush against the soft crunch of grass beneath tired feet.
Eira felt the weight of the silence most. It wasn't discomfort or fear, it was anticipation. The Ember Path was changing.
It no longer glowed in steady rhythm beneath them. Now, it pulsed, slow, deliberate, like a drumbeat growing louder in the dark. It wasn't threatening.
By the time they reached the edge of the glade, the trees thickened again, closing in like gates. The stones underfoot dimmed, the golden light paling to ember-red, like coals clinging to heat. They crossed into the forest's mouth, and the air grew heavier, dense with the scent of moss and firewood.
Thorne walked beside Eira now, not behind. His presence was solid, quiet, and she could feel the tension in his shoulders. His hand hovered close to his blade even though no threat had appeared.
"You feel it too," Eira said.
He nodded once. "Something's near."
Kaela moved ahead of them, her steps swift and soundless. She raised a hand to halt the group as the path narrowed between two massive stones carved with worn glyphs. Lena studied the symbols as they passed, her fingers grazing the surface.
"They're old," she murmured. "Pre-Veil. I've only seen markings like this in the archives."
"What do they say?" Torin asked, lagging a little behind them now, sweat streaking his brow.
Lena frowned. "It's hard to read, but… I think it's a warning."
"Of course it is," Kaela muttered. "Can't go anywhere magical without tripping over some ancient doom."
Torin chuckled under his breath. "She's not wrong."
But Eira said nothing. Her chest was warm again—not painfully so, but steady, insistent. The shard within her was stirring.
She pressed a hand against it through her cloak, and the faint pulse of magic answered. The stones responded too, lighting faintly in her presence. Words shimmered along their surfaces for only a moment, then vanished. But Eira didn't need to read them. She understood the meaning anyway.
'Turn back, or remember who you are.'
They crossed into a darker part of the forest, where the canopy sealed away most of the moonlight. The Ember Path brightened slightly, helping guide their way. But the trees here didn't feel asleep like those before. They felt… listening.
A soft whisper brushed Eira's ear, not in words, but a presence. She turned her head sharply, but no one stood there.
"You heard it too," Thorne said beside her.
She looked at him. "It's not hostile."
"No. But it's not friendly either."
They walked on.
Sometime past midnight, they found another clearing, this one smaller and encircled by stones. The path widened into a ring and then stopped—abruptly.
"It ends?" Kaela asked, looking around.
"No," Eira said, stepping into the circle. "It pauses."
The glow beneath their feet faded, and for the first time since Hollowmere, they stood on ordinary earth. The quiet returned, thicker, deeper than before.
The villagers settled uneasily. Mothers clutched their children closer. Even Lena stood still, listening.
Eira stepped toward the center of the ring.
As soon as she did, the ground shifted beneath her.
A low hum rose up from the earth, and the air shimmered around her. She staggered but didn't fall. Her heart pounded in her chest, the shard flaring with heat.
The others called out, Thorne's voice clearest but they sounded far away, like through water.
Light exploded from beneath her feet.
And suddenly she was somewhere else.
The forest faded. The sky bled into fire. Eira stood in a circle of stone surrounded by flame not burning, but alive. Memory. Magic. Echoes.
And in the center stood a woman.
She was tall, her hair dark as shadow, her robes simple but marked with the same glyphs Eira had seen on the stones. Her eyes glowed like molten gold.
"Who are you?" Eira whispered.
The woman didn't speak. Instead, she raised her hand.
And from her palm, a flicker of flame formed, the same color as the Ember Path. It floated between them, then slowly drifted into Eira's chest.
Eira gasped.
Suddenly she saw fleeting images like sparks in the dark. Mageborn fleeing through these woods long ago. A boy lighting the first stone with trembling hands. A woman, this woman carving the first glyphs in blood and fire, whispering a promise into the dirt.
"If she finds this place, guide her. If she bears the shard, show her."
And then…
Darkness.
When Eira woke, she was on her knees in the center of the ring, Thorne holding her upright.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I saw her," Eira whispered.
"Who?"
"The one who built the path. She was like me. She made this place to protect us. To remember."
Thorne's jaw tightened. "You were gone for almost an hour."
"It felt like seconds."
Lena knelt beside them, eyes wide. "You're glowing again."
Eira looked down. The shard pulsed beneath her skin but not alone. The ring of stones had reignited, casting warm light over the entire glade.
Kaela approached slowly. "Did she say anything useful?"
Eira looked around at the villagers, the children, the weary eyes staring back at her. And then to the forest beyond.
"Yes," she said.
"Well?" Kaela pressed.
Eira stood. "She said this path leads forward but only if we choose it. Together."
And for a moment, no one moved.
Then, one by one, they stepped forward, villagers, fighters, friends, standing in the circle of flame and stone, the Ember Path reigniting beneath their feet.