A day of Dilemmas

Leonard had dropped her home quietly after the harrowing night at Hollowfang Glen, his hand lingering at her waist just a little longer than necessary, his lips brushing her temple with the gentlest of goodbyes. She had watched him ride away without a word, not trusting her voice not to crack. The only comfort was knowing the Baldwin twins had returned safely with the others.

Zois and Lukas had insisted on walking her to her door, their eyes brimming with concern — but she waved them off, forcing a tired smile.

"I'm fine. Really. I've never felt stronger."

It wasn't a lie, not exactly. Her body was sore, her magic depleted — but something inside her felt steadier now. Like the broken pieces were slowly beginning to align. The terrifying surge of power from Hollowfang hadn't consumed her. It had obeyed her. That meant something.

Dinner that evening had been unusually warm and boisterous. The house had never felt more full — laughter rang through the rooms, her siblings bickering playfully, her parents quietly watching with eyes that still shimmered with gratitude. For a time, Eila let herself sink into that comfort.

But it didn't last.

After the meal, her family's curiosity finally boiled over.

Michael sat forward first, brows raised. "You've been gone for almost a week. We heard things—whispers. Flares of magic. A rift in the north. Tell us everything."

Emma chimed in, "Please, El. We need to know what's happening."

At first, she hesitated. The truth was dangerous. Too heavy for this room filled with fragile hope.

But they were her family. And they deserved some part of the truth.

She carefully laid out the story: how she'd experienced a prophetic dream, how her powers surged that night at the Robber's Hut, and how a voice had led her to her true calling — a reincarnation of Venera, the ancient soul-wielder.

Of course, she omitted the more intimate details of her clandestine meeting with Zois and Lukas. Her siblings did not need to know about stolen kisses and whispered promises beneath moonlight.

She spoke instead of the vision in the woods, the summoner's threat, the rupture in the Glen — and her terrifying ability to repel the Varium with only her scream.

There was silence when she finished.

It was her mother who spoke first, thoughtful and slow.

"Venera's soul… in you?"

Eila nodded.

Her mother frowned deeply, a memory tugging at the edges of her mind.

"Your great-great-grandmother… she was whispered to be a witch. I was just a girl when I heard the story — something about a bloodline sealed from magic, but always destined to awaken again. I never gave it weight. But perhaps…" she paused, eyes distant, "…perhaps our blood carries more than we know."

Her father rubbed his jaw, stunned. "So, you're both werewolf and witch?"

"No," Eila whispered. "I'm something else entirely."

There was no pride in her voice. Only awe — and fear.

Her siblings were bursting with more questions, but she smiled and guided them to bed with reassurances that she'd explain again tomorrow. They had already heard the tale twice, but each one wanted to be the last awake to listen.

She finally slipped back into her room and closed the door, the laughter now faint echoes in the hallway. She sat by the window, staring out at the forest where the rupture still pulsed in the distance — a phantom wound in the sky.

"They stationed elite warriors there," Leonard had told her through the mind-link earlier, his voice firm but tired.

"If it shows signs of widening again, we'll act. You don't need to worry."

But she was worried.

She knew what others didn't — that the Veil wasn't something that could be held back with swords or elemental gifts. It wasn't a physical enemy. It was a rift between worlds. A doorway. And she was the key.

Only she could close it.

Only she could stop Jeremy Soren.

And if she failed… those stationed warriors would die — not in glory, but as sacrifices.

That truth wrapped around her like a cold blanket.

She sank into her bed and curled up under the woven covers, Sera murmuring quietly in her mind.

"Rest, Eila. We need strength. He's still watching."

The whisper of the wind outside made her shiver.

She closed her eyes.

And as sleep slowly claimed her, the last image in her mind was the hooded figure of Jeremy, floating above the ground like a shadow — his eyes glowing like embers in the dark.