The path to Valemere was not marked on any map.
It was carved through memory.
Beyond the rise of crumbled cliffs and through an ashen forest where sunlight seldom dared to touch, Liam and his companions walked into the fading edge of a world that felt less like Earth and more like a memory of it. The air grew heavier with each step, as if unseen hands were pulling them back.
The crystal that Aeris used to cross into the human world had dimmed after its use, tucked away in her satchel like a forgotten talisman. The journey had been long and unforgiving. Towns once familiar were now changed, lost to time or perhaps to something deeper — a silent war no one remembered fighting.
Kael walked ahead, his blade drawn in the open, though there was no sound of threat. Nyra kept close to Liam, her summoner senses alert but strangely muted in this world. Aeris had grown quieter, her eyes scanning the horizon as though she could see through the veils others could not.
"I remember this road," Liam said softly, eyes narrowing at the broken sign ahead. "My father used to drive us through here when I was little. Before things got bad. Before Mom left."
Aeris paused beside him. "Valemere is close. The memory of it is strong in this place. It calls to people with unfinished stories."
"Then I guess we're all answering a call," Kael muttered, but the edge in his voice wasn't sharp — more like a reluctant agreement.
They arrived by dusk.
Valemere wasn't a city anymore — it was a skeleton.
Collapsed buildings whispered of a thriving town long gone. Ivy curled through shattered windows. The wind carried the scent of old ash. Liam stood at the entrance of what had once been the central park. The trees here still stood, tall and unwavering.
"This is where it happened," he said. "The nightmares I used to have — they always started here."
Nyra stepped beside him. "The veil is thin. I can feel it. Like something trying to break through."
Aeris closed her eyes. "This town was one of the crossing points. Long ago, before the Great Divide. A bridge between our realms, hidden in plain sight. Elira must've passed through here."
"Then maybe we'll find clues," Liam said. "Maybe even the protectors."
But the silence answered for them. And it was not a welcoming silence.
That night, they camped near the ruins of a chapel — its roof half gone, but its altar still standing beneath open sky. Nyra summoned a flickering barrier to keep them shielded. The faint glimmer cast shadows that danced across broken pews.
Liam couldn't sleep. The voice had returned to him again.
But this time… it wasn't Elira.
It was a child.
"Don't let the mirror open," it whispered. "Don't trust her."
He sat up fast, sweat cold on his back. Kael stirred nearby but didn't wake.
He stepped away from the group, drawn to the chapel's altar. It shimmered faintly under moonlight, and as he approached, he noticed a symbol — the same one from the fragments. Burned into the stone.
Liam reached out. The moment his fingers touched it, a jolt of memory surged through him.
A different time.
A younger Elira stood at the same altar.
Cloaked in white, her hands trembling as she pressed something small and glowing into the base of the stone.
"You must guard this," she said to a cloaked man. "Even if I forget. Even if they find me."
The man lowered his hood. It was Nytherion.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"I trust what we were," she answered. "Even if I won't remember you… a part of me always will."
The memory shattered like glass.
Liam gasped, stumbling back. The others were awake now, rushing to him.
"What happened?" Nyra asked.
"I saw her. Elira. She was here. She hid something in the altar, gave it to someone—"
"Nytherion," Aeris said quietly. "That would explain the echoes in this place. And why the darkness hasn't fully consumed it."
Kael glanced around, hand on his weapon. "Then there's something here still. Something the darkness wants."
As if in response, the ground shook. A low rumble rolled beneath their feet.
A fissure split open at the base of the altar. A pedestal rose from beneath, old runes glowing dimly.
Within it was a shard — not a fragment of the book, but something else.
A key.
Aeris stepped forward, her breath hitching. "That's not just any relic. That's a Gate Key."
"To what?" Liam asked.
She turned to him, face pale.
"To a prison. One that holds something — or someone — meant never to return."
In the days that followed, the team stayed in Valemere.
They searched the remnants of the town, piecing together old journals, markings, and stories left in half-burned pages and walls scribbled with fading runes. The human world, they realized, had more protectors than they thought — ones who had lived as ordinary people, forgetting who they truly were.
Some had died. Others… went mad. And some were still hiding.
But there was one name that kept appearing.
Rowan Vale.
A librarian, once stationed at the Valemere Archives. A realm-born protector who had never returned.
"He might still be alive," Nyra said, flipping through the crumbling page of a hidden diary. "And if he has the third fragment, or knows where Elira went—"
"Then we find him," Kael said. "Before something else does."
As the moon rose high above the ruined chapel, Liam stood at the altar once more. The Gate Key pulsed faintly in his palm.
"I'm coming for you, Elira," he whispered. "Whoever you are now… whatever you've become… I'll bring you back."
Behind him, the wind whispered a single word:
"Hurry."