They left the temple at dawn.
Cassian led the way down a stone path shrouded in mist. Elara followed, swaddled in her borrowed cloak, boots crunching over frosted moss. Her bones still hummed with the energy from the Mirror of Stars. She hadn't told Cassian what she'd seen in full—not the wings, not the moons, not the fire. Not the part where her reflection smiled just a little too knowingly.
She didn't trust it. She wasn't even sure she trusted herself.
A raven circled above them as they descended. Cassian watched it with unease.
"We're being tracked," he said.
"By what?"
"Not what. Who."
Elara frowned. "Let me guess. Not friendly?"
"Not in any realm."
They mounted their starlit deer again—called velekari, Cassian had told her—and rode through lowlands dusted in frost and gold. Strange creatures peered at them from behind trees: a silver-eyed fox with multiple tails, something like a lynx with feathers instead of fur. The world pulsed with wild magic, and for all her fear, Elara couldn't help but marvel.
"I don't understand," she said as they reached a ridge. "If I'm so dangerous—or important—why not lock me away in that temple until all this blows over?"
Cassian scanned the horizon before answering. "Because the prophecy speaks not of stillness. It speaks of motion. And blood."
"Fantastic."
"You're the key to restoring the Pact, Elara. That won't happen in hiding."
"And what if I fail?"
"Then Aetheros falls. My House burns. The rest will follow."
She swallowed. "No pressure."
They reached a lookout point where the land spread in layered color: deep sapphire lakes, copper-brushed cliffs, and in the far distance, a city carved into a mountain's side—Lunareal, capital of the House of Stars.
Cassian pointed. "That's where we're going. My home."
Elara stared. "It's beautiful."
His jaw tightened. "It was."
That night, they made camp in a hollow carved beneath a hill, shielded by thorned vines and spell-scribed stones. Cassian carved runes around the perimeter.
"Protection wards," he explained. "In case the Raven Guard has crossed the Vale."
Elara stirred the small fire, watching blue flames dance. "The who?"
"Shadow agents," he said. "Sworn to the Broken Crown. They believe the Old Pact should stay shattered. That it's power, not balance, that should rule the stars."
"Of course," she muttered. "Why does every fantasy world have a secret evil order with a name that sounds like a metal band?"
He didn't smile.
"You think they'll come for me?"
"I'd bet my blade they already are."
That night, Elara dreamed of falling. Again.
Only this time, she fell into an ocean of stars, and hands reached for her—some to catch her, others to pull her down. And in the distance, a voice whispered:
"Find the Flame. Before the Crown finds you."
They reached Lunareal two days later.
The city shimmered like moonlight made solid, carved into the face of a steep granite peak. Bridges arched between towers like woven starlight. Crystalline lanterns floated in the air, glowing soft white and silver. But something about the city felt... off.
"Where is everyone?" Elara asked.
"Inside. Locked behind spells and fear," Cassian said darkly. "There's been unrest. The other Houses are restless. The stars haven't spoken clearly in weeks."
They passed armored guards wearing deep navy cloaks adorned with a broken constellation. Their eyes followed Elara. She gripped her cloak tighter.
Inside the palace—if it could be called that, more carved sanctuary than throne room—they were met by an older man with a beard like weathered iron.
"My uncle," Cassian said. "Regent Thandrel. He's held the seat in my father's absence."
Thandrel gave Elara a long, unreadable look.
"So," he said, voice sharp as frost, "this is the skyborn girl causing such a stir."
Elara raised her eyebrows. "I cause stirrings now?"
"She crossed the Veil," Cassian said simply. "The Seers have named her Fulcrum."
"And what do you name her?" Thandrel asked coolly. "Threat, or salvation?"
"Both," Cassian answered.
Thandrel didn't look pleased.
"You'll stay here for now," he told Elara. "But know this: not all starlight is soft. Some blinds. Some burns."
Elara gave a dry smile. "Good to know."
Later, Elara stood alone on a balcony overlooking the valley below. She could see for miles: forests that shimmered in silver, rivers that glowed faintly with bioluminescence. It was the most breathtaking thing she'd ever seen.
And yet, all she could think about was the weight behind the beauty.
Cassian joined her quietly.
"You didn't say you were royalty-royalty," she said.
He looked out over the land. "I wasn't always. My father vanished into the Rift five years ago. The crown passed down the line. I never wanted it."
"Then why not run?"
"Because the only thing worse than a reluctant heir is a kingdom without one."
She glanced at him. "And me? Where do I fit into all this?"
He turned toward her. "I don't know yet. But I know this world bends around you like gravity. It listens to you."
"Or it wants something from me."
"Both can be true."
Their eyes met, the moment heavy. Then—
CRACK.
A sound like thunder ripped through the sky. Lights exploded in the distance. Alarms blared—low, mournful horns echoing through the halls.
Cassian's expression went cold.
"They've come."
"Who?"
"Raven Guard."
A guard burst in. "The wards at the Western Gate have been breached."
Cassian unsheathed his sword. "Elara, stay here."
"Not a chance."
"Don't be stubborn."
"I fell out of a meteor storm. I think I'm allowed to be part of the fight now."
Cassian looked at her—truly looked. Then he nodded once. "Stay behind me."
They reached the western wall in minutes. Shadowed figures moved with inhuman speed across the stones. Elara felt them before she saw them—like the cold seep of space. Her skin prickled.
The Raven Guard wore black armor laced with red veins. Their faces were covered with mirrored masks. One turned toward her and paused.
"Elara Thorne," it said. The voice was wrong—too many layers, like overlapping radio signals.
Cassian stepped between them. "She's under my House's protection."
The figure tilted its head. "She was never yours to claim."
Before Cassian could strike, Elara stepped forward.
"You want me?" she shouted. "Then take your shot."
Behind her, Cassian cursed. "Elara—"
But too late.
The Raven raised a blade. Elara braced—
—and then the stars blinked.
A burst of light exploded from her chest—silver, radiant, unstoppable. The Raven was flung backward like a puppet cut from its strings. Others screamed and covered their mirrored faces. Cassian caught Elara before she fell.
"What did you do?" he whispered.
"I don't know," she said, breath ragged. "I didn't mean to—"
"No." He looked around. "You didn't channel the stars."
He touched her temple.
"They channeled you."