Obsidian spires clawed at the sky, casting jagged shadows across the river in the pale moonlight.
On the Haelen side, the bank was a tangle of wild weeds and mossy stone—familiar and dull. But the Umbral side was a world of bioluminescent blue, the fungi glowing with a cobalt light that spilled into the river.
It was a single body of water, yet the divide was absolute.
Turning back to the pillar, I placed my hands upon the altar with a sigh.
What I would not give to be happy with a boring life in the city.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to breathe.
“You seek answers where only silence resides, little flame.”
The voice did not startle me with its volume; it was the way it seemed to bleed directly from the stone itself. My eyes snapped open to find him only paces away.
He stood half-veiled in shadow, yet appeared impossibly sharp against the moonlight.
Little flame.
The name felt alien on his tongue, a strange mix of condescension and something far more intimate. It was meant to be an observation, a comment on the fiery shade of my hair, but it felt like a judgment on my attitude.
“How do you always find me?” I asked, turning fully toward him. “I do not need a shadow at my heels.”
“A shadow follows even those who do not wish it,” he murmured.
I stepped down from the altar, hopping down the stairs until I stood in front of him.
“In case you could not tell, I do not need saving.” I swept a hand out, gesturing to the vacant, shadow-drenched landing.
His gaze moved over me before a small frown tugged at his mouth. “I am not here to save you, Kaelia.”
“Then why have you crossed into Haelen?”
“I am here to oversee the operations.”
“Yes, the assessments,” I mocked. “How could I forget?”
“They are essential.”
“To whom?” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest. “Certainly not to those of us who must live beneath it.”
He finally moved, taking a slow step toward me.
“You believe the Veythar thrive upon your fear,” he said. “That we relish the role carved for us.”
“Do you deny it?”
The distance between us narrowed enough that I felt the faint disturbance of air between our bodies, though he did not touch me.
“Do you truly see me as a monster, Kaelia?” he asked, and though his tone remained composed, there was something beneath it now. “Or have you simply accepted that it is easier to believe I am one?”
My throat tightened, though I held his gaze.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “To the first.”
His eyes narrowed.
“And no,” I continued, “to the second. I have eyes. I see what becomes of those who fail your standards.”