Amelia ran.
She'd been running for three days now, ever since leaving Clearwater. Her feet were blistered, her legs ached, and exhaustion dragged at every step. But she didn't dare stop for more than a few hours' rest.
They were following her.
Not spirits this time. People.
She'd first noticed them the morning after destroying the malevolent entity. Two men in dark robes, watching the temple from across the square. When Amelia had left the village, they'd followed at a distance. When she'd tried to lose them in the forest, more appeared.
Now there were at least five that she'd seen. Maybe more.
Who are they? Amelia wondered as she stumbled through the underbrush. And what do they want?
But she knew. Deep down, she knew. The spirit's last words haunted her: The masters know you exist now.
These men served whoever—or whatever—had sent that malevolent entity. And they'd come for her.
The forest thinned ahead. Amelia burst into a clearing and immediately regretted it. Open ground meant exposure. No place to hide. She spun, looking for cover, and froze.
One of the robed figures stood at the tree line, blocking her retreat. He was older, with a gaunt face and eyes that held no warmth. In his hand, he held a bronze mirror inscribed with symbols that made Amelia's skin crawl.
"There you are," he said calmly. "The child who destroyed our scout. You've led us on quite the chase."
"I don't know what you want," Amelia said, backing toward the clearing's far edge. "I haven't done anything to you."
"You exist. That's enough." The man raised the mirror, and Amelia felt power gathering—cold, wrong, tainted with the same corruption she'd sensed in the malevolent spirit. "Our masters have been searching for the half-breed for years. We'd almost given up hope. Then you announced yourself so spectacularly in Clearwater."
Half-breed. That word again. "I don't understand—"
"You don't need to understand. You just need to come with us. Or die here. Either works."
The mirror flared with dark light. Amelia threw herself sideways as a bolt of corrupted energy seared the ground where she'd stood. The grass withered instantly, turning black and rotten.
Amelia scrambled to her feet, power rising instinctively in her chest—that silver-violet light that had destroyed the spirit. But before she could release it, two more robed figures emerged from the trees, flanking her.
Trapped.
"Easy now," the first man said, advancing slowly. "No need to make this difficult. Our masters want you alive if possible. But they're not picky."
Amelia's mind raced. Three of them, at least two more somewhere in the forest. All-wielding magic she didn't understand. All are trained to hunt and capture.
She was fourteen, exhausted, and had barely any control over her own power.
The odds weren't good.
Run, a voice whispered in her mind. Not her own voice. Deeper, masculine, tinged with shadow. Run, daughter. We'll shield you, but you must RUN.
Amelia didn't question the voice. She'd learned to trust the spirits who watched over her—the glowing figures from her dreams who might be her parents.
She ran.
Behind her, the men shouted. Magic crackled. A bolt of dark energy whistled past her head, close enough to singe her hair. Amelia dodged between trees, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
This way, a different voice urged—feminine, warm, tinged with light. Trust us, little starling. This way.
Amelia followed the pull in her chest, letting instinct guide her. The forest blurred. She heard her pursuers crashing through the underbrush, heard their shouts growing closer.
Then the ground disappeared beneath her feet.
Amelia tumbled down a steep embankment, too surprised to even scream. Rocks and roots battered her as she rolled, finally coming to rest at the bottom of a ravine. Pain exploded through her side—something was broken, maybe her ribs. She tried to stand and nearly blacked out.
Above, at the top of the embankment, the robed figures appeared. The leader peered down, his face twisted with frustration.
"Can you see her?" one of the others asked.
"No. Too dark down there. And I'm not climbing down into a ravine in the dark. We'll lose the trail." The leader spat. "Mark this location. We'll return at first light with more men."
"What if she crawls away?"
"Look at that fall. She's lucky if she's still breathing. Even if she is alive, she won't get far." He turned away. "Come. We need to report to the masters that we've found her. They'll want to handle this personally."
Their footsteps faded.
Amelia lay in the dark ravine, fighting to stay conscious. Every breath sent shards of pain through her chest. She couldn't move without agony lancing through her side. And even if she could move, where would she go?
Stay awake, she told herself desperately. Just stay awake. When dawn comes, move. Find somewhere safe. Figure this out.
But consciousness was slipping. The pain was too much, the exhaustion too deep.
I'm sorry, she thought to the spirits who watched over her—to the dream-parents who might or might not be real. I tried. I tried to find answers about who I am. But I'm not strong enough. I'm not—
"You're not dying in a ditch, that's for certain."
Amelia's eyes snapped open. A figure stood over her—not a spirit, but a living person. A young man, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with a lean build and sharp features. He wore simple traveling clothes and carried a staff, but something about him felt... different. Powerful.
"Who—" Amelia tried to speak, but her voice came out as a croak.
"Hush. Save your strength." He knelt beside her, his hands hovering over her broken ribs. A soft green light emanated from his palms—healing magic, but unlike anything Amelia had seen before. It felt clean, natural, like sunlight through leaves. "This is going to hurt. Try not to scream, or those hunters will come back."
The light touched her ribs. Amelia bit down hard on her lip as bones shifted, grinding back into place. The pain was excruciating, but she didn't scream. Couldn't afford to.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the young man sat back. "There. Not perfect, but you'll live. Can you stand?"
Amelia tested her weight carefully. Her ribs still ached, but the sharp, stabbing pain was gone. She could breathe without wanting to die. "Who are you?"
"Someone who's been looking for you." He offered his hand. "My name is Kai. And before you ask—no, I'm not with those robed creeps. I'm here to help."
"Why would you help me? You don't even know me."
Kai's expression turned serious. "Because I've been having dreams. Dreams about you in the celestial garden that exists between worlds, i been dreaming about a child of twilight born of light and shadow, about a prophecy that could save or damn us all." He met her eyes. "And in every dream, I always see you standing in the garden."
Amelia stared at him, her mind reeling. Someone else was dreaming about the garden? About her?
"You're either insane," she said finally, "or you know something I desperately need to understand."
"Both, probably." Kai smiled slightly. "But right now, we need to move. Those hunters will be back at dawn, and I'd rather not be here when they arrive." He pulled her to her feet. "There's a safe house two days' travel from here. People who can help. People who understand what you are."
"What I am?" Amelia repeated. "And what's that?"
Kai looked at her for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was soft but certain.
"The daughter of gods. The bridge between realms. The one the prophecy spoke of." He started walking, supporting some of her weight. "And the only person who can stop the corruption that's consuming the Jade Emperor."
Amelia's world tilted. The Jade Emperor—the supreme ruler of the Celestial Court—was corrupted?
"I don't understand," she managed. "I'm nobody. Just a cursed orphan who sees spirits."
"That's what you had been led to believe." Kai glanced back at her. "But you're so much more than that, Amelia. And it's time you learned the truth about who your parents really were."
Something in Amelia's chest cracked open—that carefully maintained wall she'd built to protect herself from hope. Because if this young man was telling the truth, if the dreams were real, if her parents had truly been divine beings...
Then maybe she wasn't cursed after all.
Maybe she'd been protected.
And maybe, just maybe, she was meant for something greater than survival.
"Tell me," she said as they climbed out of the ravine. "Tell me everything."
Kai smiled. "That's going to be a long conversation. But we've got a two-day walk ahead of us. Plenty of time."
Above them, hidden in the branches, two spirits watched. One glowing with gentle golden light, one wrapped in soft purple shadow. Noctis and Aurelia, bound by love and sacrifice, unable to intervene directly but guiding their daughter as best they could.
"She's found an ally," Aurelia whispered, relief flooding through her translucent form.
"He was always meant to find her," Noctis replied. "The threads of fate are tightening. Soon, she'll remember everything. Soon, she'll understand what she is."
"Will she forgive us?" Aurelia's voice was small. "For hiding the truth? For letting her suffer?"
"If she's anything like you—and she is—she'll understand we did what we had to do." Noctis's form flickered with emotion. "She survived, my love. Against all odds, our daughter survived. And now, finally, she's going to learn how to live truly."