Chapter 5

The sun descended slowly beyond the ancient mountains of Avelia, scattering ribbons of amber and crimson across the heavens.

Far from the golden towers of Luminosus, where preparations for the Lumus Annua Ritual filled the royal capital with music and enchantment, the Falls of Hydranas remained untouched by celebration.

The waters cascaded from towering cliffs like silver veils woven by the hands of forgotten gods. Beneath them, crystalline pools reflected the dying light, while blue luminescent flowers opened along the banks. Every droplet seemed to carry a whisper from an age when magic was young and the ten kingdoms still spoke with one another as children of a single realm.

This was the Weeping Veil.

And to Prince Finio of Luminosus, it was more than a waterfall.

It was the place where he had first understood that a prince could surrender his heart to someone he could never command the world to accept.

“Shaynna,” Finio called softly.

She closed her eyes.

There had been a time when hearing his voice was enough to make every sorrow disappear. Now, the same voice brought a pain she could neither explain nor escape.

“Are you going to the Lumus Annua ritual tonight?” she asked.

“Yes.” He caressed her hand. “Father expects me beside my brothers. All ten kingdoms will gather in Luminosus to celebrate the sovereignty and prosperity of Avelia."

Shaynna lowered her gaze.

“Then perhaps this is the last time we should meet.”

Finio's smile disappeared.

“What are you saying?”

She withdrew her hand, fighting the tears gathering in her eyes.

“Look at yourself, Finio. You are a prince of Luminosus, heir to a kingdom that governs all Avelia. One day, you may stand upon the highest throne in the realm.”

She looked down at her simple dress.

“And what am I? A nameless maiden who knows nothing of her own beginnings. I possess no noble blood that I can prove, no royal inheritance, no place among the powerful families of Avelia. How could someone like me ever stand beside someone like you?”

Finio stepped closer.

“Because I love you.”

“But love cannot make me worthy of your crown!”

“Nor does a crown make me more worthy of your love.”

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“You do not understand. The kingdoms will whisper. The nobles will question you. Your own people may wonder why their prince chose a maiden with nothing to offer him.”

“Then let them whisper!”

His voice echoed across the falls.

“I did not fall in love with a title, Shaynna. I fell in love with the woman who sees me as Finio, not as a prince. The woman who makes me forget the weight of a kingdom resting upon my shoulders.”

For one moment, Shaynna almost surrendered to his words.

But fear had already taken root in her heart.

“I cannot let my love become your weakness.”

“And I cannot accept that you believe yourself unworthy simply because you were not born into a palace.”

She turned away.

“We must end this.”

The words struck him harder than any blade.

“Is that truly what you want?”

“No,” she whispered. “But perhaps it is what I must do.”

Finio reached for her, then stopped when he saw her trembling.

“Shaynna, I must attend the Lumus Annua tonight. My father and my brothers are waiting for me. But when I return, we will speak again. I will not abandon you because the world believes you are beneath me.”

She looked at him through her tears.

“And if the world never accepts me?”

“Then I will remind the world that a person's worth is not measured by the blood in their veins.”

He pressed her hand against his heart.

“Please. Do not decide our fate on behalf of people who have not even given us a chance.”

The waterfall roared between them.

Shaynna wanted to believe him. She wanted to remain in his arms and allow herself one more moment of happiness.

Instead, she whispered, “Go to your kingdom, my prince.”

Finio held her gaze, wounded but unwilling to turn her sorrow into a prison.

“I will come back for you.”

Then a distant, thunderous neigh shook the mountains.

From the forest path emerged Drakar, the prince's magnificent black-armored pegasus. Silver runes adorned his midnight armor, and his immense dark wings cast a moving shadow across the rocks.

The creature stopped before Finio, stamping his hooves against the earth.

Finio recognized the urgency in his restless movements.

“Drakar? What has happened?”

A small royal seal glimmered upon the pegasus's harness—a message bearing the mark of Prince Akilio.

Akilio had dispatched Drakar from Luminosus with a clear command: find Prince Finio in Hydranas and bring him home before the Lumus Annua Ritual commenced.

Finio read the enchanted message.

“Akilio must be wondering whether I intend to miss the entire ceremony.”

Despite the sorrow between them, Shaynna managed a faint smile.

“Your kingdom is calling.”

“And my heart is asking me to stay.”

He turned toward her one final time.

“Wait for me.”

Shaynna could not promise him that.

Finio mounted Drakar. The pegasus spread his enormous wings, stirring the mist into spiraling clouds. For a moment, the prince looked down at the maiden he loved, his expression filled with words he could not bring himself to speak.

“May the light protect you, Shaynna.”

“And may it lead you home safely, Finio.”

With a powerful beat of his wings, Drakar soared above the falls, carrying the prince toward the distant golden towers of Luminosus.

Shaynna watched until the last trace of his silhouette disappeared beyond the mountains.

Only then did she collapse to her knees.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I love you, Finio. But I am only a maiden, and you were born to rule.”

A sudden tremor passed beneath her feet.

The water stopped.

Every cascading stream froze in midair, each droplet suspended like a crystal caught between two worlds.

Shaynna slowly raised her head.

“What…?”

Blue runes ignited beneath the pool, one after another, forming a vast circle around her reflection. The stones began to vibrate. The air grew heavy, and an unfamiliar whisper rose from the depths.

She stumbled backward.

“Who is there?”

No answer came.

Instead, the water beneath her feet began to spiral upward, twisting into a luminous column. Her hair lifted in an invisible wind. Tiny fragments of blue light circled her body, moving faster and faster until the entire clearing blazed with an unearthly radiance.

Shaynna reached for a nearby rock.

Her fingers passed through it as though the stone had become mist.

“No! What is happening to me?”

The ground vanished beneath her feet.

She screamed.

Across the distant mountains, Drakar suddenly shrieked and faltered in midair. Finio seized the reins as a flash of blue light erupted behind them.

“Drakar! Turn back!”

The pegasus wheeled around, his black wings cutting through the clouds.

But at the Falls of Hydranas, the light had already swallowed everything.

For one final instant, Shaynna saw the waterfall, the flowers, and the place where she had said farewell to the only man she had ever loved.

Then the world shattered into blue sparks.

And she was gone.

When the waters resumed their thunderous descent, the clearing stood empty.

No maiden. No footprints. No explanation.

Only a single glowing rune remained upon the stone, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Far above Hydranas, Finio stared toward the distant falls as an inexplicable terror seized his heart.

“Shaynna…”

But the wind offered no answer.

What ancient power had taken the maiden—and where had it carried her?

The light had not released her. It carried her.

Shaynna hung suspended in the blue nothing, limbs weightless, lungs empty of air yet somehow full. Voices pressed against her skin from every direction—hundreds of them, whispering the same word in languages she did not know. Her fingers closed around nothing and found resistance. Warm stone. Cold metal. The smooth curve of a throne arm.

She opened her eyes.

A hall stretched before her, vast and ruined, its pillars cracked yet still reaching toward a ceiling lost in shadow. Blue fire burned in braziers that had not been lit for centuries. At the far end, a figure sat upon a dais—female, regal, unmistakably the same face Shaynna saw each morning in still water. The woman’s eyes opened. They were Shaynna’s eyes, but older, heavier, rimmed with sorrow that belonged to no single lifetime.

“You have come too soon,” the woman said. Her voice echoed from every pillar at once.

Shaynna’s bare feet found marble that should not have been solid. She took one step, then another, until she stood at the base of the dais. “Who are you?”

The woman rose. Her gown moved like water. “The one the prophecy forgot. The daughter they buried beneath the Blood Gemstone so the ten kingdoms could pretend the danger had passed.” She descended the steps until they stood face to face. “I am the price they paid for peace.”

A tremor ran through the hall. The blue flames guttered. Somewhere far above, stone cracked.

“They are waking,” the woman said. “And you are the key they need.”

Shaynna’s hand rose of its own accord. Their fingers met—hers and the stranger’s—and the world split again, not into sparks this time, but into memory. She saw the eight mothers kneeling before the same throne. Saw Lunagor’s blade. Saw the gemstone drink their final breaths. Saw her own infant face, swaddled in the arms of a woman who would not live to name her.

The vision released her. Shaynna staggered. The woman caught her elbow.

“Finio,” Shaynna whispered. The name felt small in this place.

“He searches for you now. The pegasus carries him toward the rune I left behind.” The woman’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “He cannot reach you here. Not yet.”

“Then how—”

A second tremor, stronger. Dust sifted from the ceiling. The woman’s form wavered, thinning like mist.

“Find the other seven. Wake the Signus before the gemstone claims them all.” Her hand pressed against Shaynna’s chest, and heat bloomed there, bright and painful. “You already carry the first mark.”

Shaynna looked down. A sigil glowed beneath her collarbone, the same blue as the flames. When she touched it, the mark answered with a pulse that matched her heartbeat.

The woman was gone. The hall remained, but the light was fading. Shaynna stood alone with the sigil burning against her skin and the weight of eight dead mothers pressing at her back. She turned toward the broken doors at the far end of the hall. Beyond them waited darkness, and somewhere in that darkness, the path that led back to the living.