CHAPTER VII: A Steady Resolve
The cold wind bit at Charlotte's face as she rode through the night, her hands clutching the reins with firm determination. She did not allow herself to think of exhaustion. She could not.
The weight of her armor, the lingering ache in her limbs, and the dried blood—both hers and the unnatural violet hue of the Veilborn—staining her skin and clothes were mere inconveniences. They did not matter.
Only Willow mattered.
She had the cure. That was all that was important.
The rhythmic pounding of her horse's hooves against the dirt echoed the pounding in her chest. The journey home felt interminable, but she remained upright, her posture unwavering. She had fought against creatures beyond mortal understanding, stood before beings that could have torn her apart, and she had survived.
She would not falter now.
The house came into view, its lantern-lit windows a beacon in the dark. Charlotte reined in her horse sharply, dismounted with practiced ease, and strode toward the entrance.
As soon as she stepped inside, Lilith was there.
Lilith's in shock the moment she laid eyes on Charlotte, she froze.
Charlotte stood tall, her breath steady, her green eyes unreadable. But Lilith saw beyond the façade.
Charlotte's armor—once pristine—was now barely clinging to her body, torn and dented in places where something inhuman had struck her. Her arms were covered in both her own blood and something else, its unnatural violet hue stark against her. And though her body bore no visible wounds, Lilith could feel it—an undeniable trace of magic, a lingering presence of something foreign.
Charlotte's posture was composed, her expression impassive, but Lilith knew her sister.
Something had changed.
"What…happened, Charlotte?" Lilith's voice was quiet and small, it almost cracked.
Charlotte merely inclined her head. "Melor took care of it."
That alone sent a chill down Lilith's spine. Melor was skilled, but what had happened to Charlotte that she had needed his intervention?
Her fingers curled, her gaze scanning the dried blood clinging to Charlotte's arms and armor. She didn't ask whose blood it was. She didn't need to. But the unnatural violet that had dried in streaks is what captured Lilith's eyes. It smells not that of Mortal blood, and this journey of her sister hit a realization to her that this is no ordinary journey of hers.
Lilith swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "Charlotte… what happened to you?" This time she demands an answer out of Charlotte.
Charlotte exhaled heavily, she lifted the vial between them with her right hand.
"No time—Willow." Charlotte continued, voice firm. There was no room for weakness. No room for hesitation.
Lilith snapped out of her trance. Without another word, she turned and led the way.
When they entered Willow's room, the air was thick—heavy, as if the walls themselves held their breath.
Willow lay motionless on the bed, his once-lively features now eerily pale, almost translucent under the dim candlelight. His silver hair, so much like moonlight, fanned around his face, a stark contrast to the darkness pooling around him.
He looked like a mere breath away from slipping beyond their reach.
But what sent an uneasy chill through Charlotte was the wisps of darkness curling around him.
They slithered over his arms, his chest, like shadows clinging to his very being. Faint, almost weightless, yet refusing to disappear.
Charlotte wasted no time.
She knelt beside the bed, uncorking the vial with precision. The silver liquid shimmered under the dim light, its glow almost divine in contrast to the creeping darkness surrounding Willow's form.
With unwavering hands, she tilted the vial against his lips.
The moment the liquid touched his tongue, glow started softly—a faint pulse of silver beneath his skin.
Then it grew.
Like veins of starlight, the light spread, traveling across his body, sinking deep into his chest, his arms, his legs. The shadows recoiled, twisting and writhing before they began to dissolve, swallowed whole by the brilliance of the cure.
The air shifted.
And then, he began to dream.
---
Willow was drifting.
Suspended in a void of nothingness, weightless, untethered.
But he was not alone.
A figure stood before him—tall, commanding, impossibly beautiful.
Willow had seen glimpses of him before, vague silhouettes lurking in his dreams, but never like this.
Now, he saw him clearly.
He was tall, draped in black and silver. His hair—dark as the night sky—cascaded over broad shoulders, framing sharp yet regal features. His golden-ember eyes burned with a quiet intensity, filled with something unreadable yet undeniably familiar. His face, too beautiful, too perfect to belong to something mortal.
Eryndor Thorne...
Willow had never spoken his name before, had never seen his face before—not clearly, but it resonated in his soul like something long forgotten. Now, there was no mistaking it.
Eryndor's lips curved into a soft, knowing smile, his golden-ember eyes glowing with an intensity that made Willow's breath hitch.
"You can see me now."
His heart thrumming like a distant echo.
Eryndor lifted a hand, fingers outstretched—not as a shadow, not as an illusion, but real.
But before their hands could meet, Eryndor's form began to blur, fading into the abyss.
"Come back to me…" His voice was soft and gentle, almost pleading.
Then—darkness.
And Willow's eyes snapped open.
His first breath was sharp, ragged—as if he had been drowning and had only now surfaced.
His vision blurred, the ceiling coming into focus before the faces around him registered.
Charlotte. Lilith.
His body felt light, as if something heavy had been lifted from his soul. But there was something else—a lingering warmth in his chest, a presence that had never been there before.
And then, he heard it.
"Come back to me."
His heart clenched. It wasn't Eryndor's voice this time.
It was Charlotte's.
His silver eyes locked onto her, still dazed, still caught between the dream and reality. But in that moment, he understood.
Something had changed.
Something had awakened within him.
And he knew that the world around him would never be the same again.