Chapter 40: The Thread of the First Curse

The mist parted.

The figure stepped forward. Though it bore no features, its presence stole warmth from the air. Every breath felt like it passed through winter.

Cael stared at it, feather pulsing in his grip.

"You're not Naerith," he said.

"No," the figure replied. "I am his shadow. The first thread."

Selene stepped between them. "What do you mean 'thread'?"

"The first curse was not cast," it answered. "It was woven. Thread by thread. Line by line. I am the beginning."

Behind them, the girl cried out—her eyes rolled back, her body convulsing.

Alina rushed to her side. "She's unraveling."

"She holds memory," said the shadow, "but she was never meant to hold me."

Cael stepped forward. "Then take me."

The air stilled.

Even the birds above ceased flying. A silence like the beginning of creation fell.

The shadow turned. "You offer yourself?"

"I'm the one who brought you back. Let her go."

The shadow moved. Slow. Deliberate. It placed a hand—if it could be called that—against Cael's chest.

A burning symbol flared: not a mark, but a seal. The same three intersecting circles that had followed them through this journey.

Selene shouted, "Cael, no!"

But it was done.

The shadow entered him.

Cael screamed—not in pain, but in remembrance.

He fell.

And when he rose…

He was still Cael.

But his eyes were not.

They were Naerith's.