SOMEWHERE IN ELARIS
XAREN'S POV
I enter our home and find Mum training Thane, my little brother.
"Nella told me you were up to something," Mum says as soon as I step into the parlor.
"Forget what Nella said, she's always exaggerating," I reply dismissively.
"It's not about what Nella said. I can sense it. The late nights out, your visit to the Seer's Sanctum… I know life has been hard on you, but I need you to open up to me."
"I will," I assure her, "at the right time."
After Father's death, Mum had to step up and train Thane, since he's a teen-age Waterborn.
Nella never needed training. She was born with golden wings and the power to manipulate any creature to do her bidding.
I, on the other hand, have no special power. But Father always said I would be key to maintaining the balance between two worlds.
He was an Elder to the ruling Triads before his death.
Mum straightens up, brushing a loose curl from her face as she studies me.
"I'm not trying to pry," she says more softly now. "But when your father said you were meant for something greater, he wasn't talking about secret missions and running off to the Seer without council permission."
I flinch at the mention of council permission.
"I had to," I say, lowering my voice. "There are things happening beyond Elaris. Things I needed to see for myself."
Thane, still holding a defensive stance, turns his gaze toward me. "You went to the other side?" he asks, wide-eyed.
Mum shoots him a look, but it's too late. The question hangs in the air like a blade between us.
I sigh, stepping closer, letting my fingertips brush the edge of the carved doorframe, the one Father etched with his mark before he passed.
"I didn't stay long," I say. "Just long enough to understand what I am."
Mum's jaw tightens. "You are ours. Amarons first. We don't belong in that world."
"But what if I do?" I whisper.
The room stills. Thane lowers his arms, confusion flickering across his face, but Mum doesn't look at me. Her gaze drops to the floor, as if she already knows the answer and dreads it.
When she speaks, her voice is quieter, but heavy.
"Then you'd better understand the weight of what you've done. And the path you've put us all on."
I look at her, then at Thane, and I can't say the words out loud, not here. Not yet.
Because the truth is, I didn't cross by accident.
The Seer begged me not to. Said it would break the laws of both realms.
But I did it anyway.
Not for curiosity.
Not for power.
For the mission.
****
BESS' POV
The scent of the forget-me-nots I was holding triggered a flood of memories. I sat down on Elvis' grave and pretended he was right there in front of me, like old times, as I updated him on everything going on.
Elvis was my childhood best friend.
When I left for law school, he stayed back home and enrolled in community college. One night, after dropping a couple of friends home from a party, he was stopped at a police checkpoint. Illegal drugs were found hidden in his car.
He swore they weren't his. Swore he had nothing to do with them.
But they arrested him anyway.
My dad tried everything to prove his innocence, but the evidence was too strong. The friends he dropped off denied knowing anything. Said the drugs weren't theirs either.
Weeks later, Elvis had a severe allergy attack in prison. He died en route to the hospital.
At the time, I was deep in bar exam prep. Nobody back home told me what was going on, they didn't want to distract me. I found out after the exam. Too late.
And I still blame myself.
Maybe if I wasn't so focused, so selfish, I would've noticed something was wrong. Maybe I would've picked up on the hesitation in Mum's voice whenev-er I called. Maybe I would've realized Elvis wasn't ignoring my texts. Maybe I could've done something.
Maybe he'd still be alive.
Since then, I visit his grave whenever I can. Always with forget-me-nots. Al-ways with a promise to him and to myself: I will never take a case at face val-ue. I will always look deeper. Always investigate before I choose a stance.
Steve Howard swears he's innocent, just like Elvis did.
And not long after Elvis's death, one of the friends he dropped off that night confessed. He admitted he stashed the drugs in the car, said he didn't know there would be a checkpoint, claimed he planned to retrieve them the next day.
Too little, too late.
But not this time. Not again.
I brush the dirt from my hands and set the forget-me-nots down gently, letting my fingers linger just a second longer on the stone.
"I'll figure it out this time," I whisper. "I promise."
The sun is dipping low as I walk back to my car, the breeze cool and weight-less. But my chest is heavy. Elvis's story isn't over not if Steve Howard is tell-ing the truth. Not if someone else is out there, manipulating things the way they did back then.
Sliding into the driver's seat, I grab my phone.
"Hey, Jo," I say when the line picks up. "You still working in records for the District Court?"
A pause, then a familiar sigh. "Bess, it's Sunday."
"I know. But I need a sealed case pulled Darren Hill. Any old files, anything weird. Death certificate, arrest records, internal reports, even rumors. I'll owe you."
"Again?" Jo mutters. Then: "Fine. But only because it's you. And because I want the full story later."
"Deal."
I hang up and stare out through the windshield, watching the last rays of sun-light stretch over the cemetery gates. My fingers tighten on the wheel. No more second-guessing. No more waiting.
Time to find the truth.
****
XAREN'S POV
The image flickers in the seeing pool, but it's clear enough.
Her eyes are full of fire. Determination. Regret.
"She's getting close," I murmur.
The pool darkens at the edges as the Seer steps behind me. I don't need to turn to know it's her. I feel the disapproval pressing against my spine like ice.
"You said she'd ask questions," I say, voice low. "You never said she'd dig."
"She's not like the others," the Seer says. "Grief forged her blade. Now she's learning how to aim it."
I watch Steve's lawyer's car pull away from the graveyard, dust kicking up behind her like a trail of ghosts.
"She won't stop," I whisper.
"No," the Seer agrees. "And if she finds out what you did to Darren Hill…"
She lets the threat hang there.
But I already know.
If the lawyer uncovers the truth about me, about the crossing, about what real-ly happened that night, this entire mission will fall apart.
And still… I don't regret killing him.
Not yet.
****
BESS' POV
A few hours after I get home, Jo calls.
"I pulled the full case file on Darren Hill," she says. "Nothing out of the ordi-nary, no sealed evidence, no missing pages, nothing obviously scrubbed."
I'm about to thank her when she adds, "But there was one thing… kind of weird. The report mentioned he was working on some kind of new tech. Said it was going to change the world."
That makes me sit up a little straighter.
"Did it say what kind of tech?"
"Nope. Just a vague note in his personal records. Something he told a friend before his death. 'Revolutionary tech,' his words, apparently. Nothing con-crete."
"Thanks, Jo. I owe you one. Can you forward the full file to my office tomor-row?"
"Already queued."
I hang up and stare at the ceiling for a moment, brain churning. A tech innova-tion? That wasn't in the police report summary. Why would that be relevant? Unless…
Unless someone thought it was dangerous.
I open my phone and type out a quick message to Cynthia:
Hey, can you run a deep background check on Steve Howard's family? Full scope. Just like Jude said. Thanks.
I hit send, my thumb hovering for a second before locking the screen.
Something about this case is shifting. Slightly. Subtly. But I can feel it.
And I know from experience, small shifts can lead to earthquakes.
****
I'm halfway through my second coffee when my phone buzzes. It's Cynthia.
CYNTHIA: You might want to sit down for this one.
I roll my eyes, but a flicker of nerves settles in my stomach. I Xarenl her im-mediately.
"Talk to me," I say.
"I did the background check on Steve Howard's family like you asked," she begins. "His record's clean, like we knew. But his father, David Howard has a sealed employment history."
"Sealed by who?"
"That's the thing. I traced it as far as I could. The seal isn't military, not local law enforcement either. It's federal... but not an agency I recognize. The encryp-tion signature is off. Like it's not from this world."
I pause. "Say that again?"
"I mean look, I know how that sounds. But the encryption marker doesn't match anything in our system. I ran it through every federal and private data-base I have access to. It's... alien. For lack of a better word."
"Could it be a shell company?"
"Maybe. But if so, it's a really old one. Pre-internet. Like, analog buried deep and patched into digital later. Someone didn't want David Howard's past to exist in a searchable world."
I stare at the case file in front of me. Steve Howard, calm, cooperative, ordi-nary and suddenly doesn't feel so ordinary anymore.
"You think Steve knows?" I ask quietly.
Cynthia sighs. "No clue. But there's something else. David Howard died when Steve was six. Or at least, that's what the record says. But there's no official death certificate."
"What?"
"No grave. No obituary. Just... a missing line in the family timeline.
*****
SOMEWHERE IN ELARIS – XAREN'S POV
The rain falls gently in the forest behind the Sanctum, tracing rivers down my arms as I crouch beside the pond.
Darren Hill's name lingers in my head like smoke.
It wasn't supposed to follow me back.
The mission was clear: cross into the Goldilocks world, remove the variable, return before the Seer could stop me. Darren Hill was building something dan-gerous. Something that would've exposed us all.
At least… that's what I believed.
Now?
Now I watch the surface of the pond ripple with the weight of my thoughts and realize: I never asked who gave the order.
The prophecy said a choice would have to be made. Sacrifice or silence. Balance or collapse.
I made that decision. I ended a man's life because I thought I was protecting the veil between worlds.
But Bess Donald, the lawyer, is looking into him now. She's asking questions no one in Elaris ever bothered to ask.
What if Darren wasn't the threat?
What if he was the warning?
A branch cracks behind me. I don't turn. I know the Seer is standing there, as silent as the storm.
"You're doubting," she says softly.
"I'm wondering," I correct.
"Same thing."
I clench my fists in the wet soil. "Did you know what he was building?"
She doesn't answer.
"Did you?"
"Enough to know it scared the Triads," she finally says.
"And did it scare you?"
This time, she walks away without another word.
I stare back into the water. My reflection looks older. Harsher. Less certain.
Maybe that's the price of faith.
Or maybe... it's the beginning of betrayal.