Seraphine's hands still trembled as she rose from the cold stone floor. The chamber felt smaller now, as if the weight of what she had seen pressed against its walls, against her skin.
The Hollow One had spoken to her. Acknowledged her.
She wasn't sure if that was a victory or a curse.
Valen watched her closely. "Something's changed," he said.
Seraphine flexed her fingers, staring at the markings on her arms. They no longer glowed, but she felt them in a way she hadn't before. The power inside them wasn't just dormant it was waiting.
"Did it try to claim you?" Valen asked.
Seraphine exhaled slowly. "It already has."
Valen's expression darkened. "Then you must be careful. You're standing on the edge of something dangerous."
Seraphine met his gaze. "I've always been standing on the edge."
Valen studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Then we'll make sure you don't fall."
He turned, grabbing something from a shelf a small iron dagger, its blade inscribed with ancient runes. He held it out to her.
"You'll need this."
Seraphine hesitated. "Why?"
Valen's expression was unreadable. "Because the next time the Hollow One calls, you might need to remind yourself who you are."
Seraphine took the dagger, the weight of it solid in her palm.
She wasn't sure if she would use it to fight something else or herself.
The journey back to the surface was silent.
The city above was unchanged cobblestone streets, the glow of lanterns, the murmur of life continuing as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just stood before something vast and unknowable.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
Whatever came next, she would be ready.
Or so she hoped.
Valen stopped at the mouth of an alleyway, his voice quiet. "You should leave the city soon."
Seraphine turned to him. "Why?"
"The Inquisition has eyes everywhere," he said. "They know you're here."
Seraphine's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Then I'll move carefully."
Valen sighed. "Seraphine "
"I'm not running anymore," she interrupted.
Valen's expression was hard to read, but after a moment, he nodded.
"Then at least be ready when they come."
That night, Seraphine didn't sleep.
She sat by the window of the small inn she had taken refuge in, the dagger resting on the table beside her.
Outside, the city was alive with distant voices, the occasional clang of metal on stone. Somewhere in the darkness, hunters prowled whether they were from the Inquisition or something worse, she didn't know.
She traced a finger over the markings on her arm.
The Hollow One was waiting.
Watching.
Testing her.
She closed her eyes.
She would not break.
She would not be owned.
Whatever came next, she would carve her own path.
Even if it led her straight into the abyss.