CHAPTER 29: The Chronicle

"The burden of light is not in the brilliance it casts… but in the shadows it cannot chase away."

The forest swallowed them whole.

Branches clawed at their cloaks. Leaves rustled like whispers from the dead. Their breaths were shallow, the silence between them heavy with loss. Toren's sacrifice lingered like ash in the back of Ashix's throat. The memory of the blade piercing through Toren's back—his desperate smile, the crimson staining the earth—haunted every step.

They had made it out of Veyon's grasp. Just barely.

Now, dawn was beginning to bleed over the eastern horizon, a dull grey light that did little to warm the chilled bones of their exhausted bodies. They'd trudged through the path away from Thandor in silence, until they found the remains of an old watchtower—a ruin long reclaimed by moss and time.

There, they collapsed.

Marini wrapped herself in her cloak, face buried between her knees. Elira sat beside her, arms around both knees, staring blankly into the distance. Naru curled at Ashix's side, unusually quiet. Even the little telepathic chirps he sent were weary and subdued.

Ashix leaned against the cracked stone wall, clutching his ribs. They ached with each breath, reminders of the king's fury. His fingers brushed the still-fresh scar across his chest—where the King's blade had grazed his heart. And yet… the scar on the king's face burned brighter in his memory.

A crescent slash—left by Ashix's sword.

He hadn't wanted to kill the king. But part of him—deep, primal—had wanted to end it right there. To avenge Toren. To strike down the tyrant who tortured innocents in Kael Thorne's name.

But Kael still needed him. Ashix could feel it in the way his light reacted during the battle—how it trembled when the king spoke the Sealed Tongue. Kael's leash extended farther than he feared.

Now, they were fugitives once more. Wounded. Hunted. And without Toren.

"I should've saved him," Ashix muttered.

Elira turned her head, eyes red-rimmed but sharp. "He saved us. That was his choice."

"I didn't even know him well," Marini whispered, voice cracking. "He just… believed. In you."

Ashix clenched his fists. "That's what makes it worse."

Naru nudged him softly with his head. His belief wasn't wasted, the beast said in thought-speech. But you must become worthy of it.

The words echoed like a vow in Ashix's chest.

A soft breeze rustled the trees. Distant birds began their morning song. But peace was a lie, and they all knew it. The world had changed with Toren's death. This wasn't just a journey anymore. It was war.

"We can't stop here for long," Elira said at last, rising slowly. Her armor was dented, her left gauntlet missing, but her eyes burned with quiet resolve. "The king's men will search for us. We should keep moving."

Ashix stood, groaning slightly. "We head north," he said. "Toward the Singing Plains."

Marini looked up. "Why there?"

"Because that's where the next guardian is hidden," Ashix answered, pulling from memory the vision he saw during his last light communion. "And… because Kael fears what lies buried beneath those plains."

Elira raised a brow. "You're sure?"

"No," he replied, brushing dust off his cloak. "But when have we ever walked in certainty?"

Marini gave a weak chuckle. "True enough."

They moved quickly after that, descending the hillside with care. The forest thickened as they pressed forward—dew clinging to their boots, birds scattering with every step. Hours passed in silence, interrupted only by the occasional warning from Naru or the rustle of underbrush.

It was midday when they found it.

A small clearing, ringed by ancient stones—like teeth of a forgotten beast. At the center, an obelisk stood crookedly, carved in runes they'd never seen before. Ashix approached it slowly, one hand on his sword, the other pulsing with the light he had begun to master.

The obelisk responded.

A warm glow burst from its center. The runes lit up, dancing across its surface. Ashix's eyes widened—he understood the message, not in language, but in sensation.

A path lies buried. A test of silence, a trial of grief. Speak no falsehoods, and the way shall open.

"What is it?" Elira asked, stepping beside him.

"A map," Ashix whispered. "Or… a key."

Marini knelt near the base, brushing away the moss. "This is old. Very old. Older than even Velmora's ruins."

Ashix nodded slowly. "This is a marker from the Order of the Flamebearers."

"The what now?" Elira asked.

"I don't fully understand it yet," he admitted, eyes still fixed on the obelisk. "But I think it's what I'm meant to become."

As they studied the stone further, the light dimmed, the runes fading. But not before a faint outline appeared behind the stone—trees shifting, bending to reveal a path that hadn't been there moments before.

A hidden road.

Marini touched Ashix's arm. "Do we follow it?"

He looked at her, then at Elira, then finally at Naru.

"We do."

They turned away from the obelisk, stepping into the newly-revealed path, the forest swallowing them once more.

But before they left the clearing, Ashix paused.

He looked back at the obelisk, lips forming silent words.

"For Toren," he said. "We'll finish what you started."

And then they were gone—walking deeper into the wild unknown, where light and shadow danced together, and fate whispered in forgotten tongues.