Rielun's POV:
The moment Sylas and I stepped out of the trial chamber, the air shifted.
The others felt it instantly.
Elias froze mid‑step.
Aeris's expression darkened like a storm rolling in.
Rowan's breath caught, soft and aching.
Noctis's wings flared, shadows curling at his feet.
Sylas stayed close beside me — not touching, but near enough that the Haven's glow still clung to us both.
Aeris was the first to speak.
"What happened in there?" His voice was sharp, brittle. "Why is he— why are you—"
Elias cut in, voice tight. "You chose him."
Rowan's eyes softened. "Rielun… are you alright?"
Noctis didn't speak. He just stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, wings trembling.
I swallowed. "I'm fine. Sylas helped me."
Aeris scoffed. "Helped. Right."
Sylas's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. He simply stepped half a pace closer to me — protective, steady, grounding.
Elias noticed.
His breath hitched, barely audible.
Rowan looked away.
Noctis's wings drooped.
The Haven pulsed weakly beneath our feet, like a heartbeat fading.
A tremor rippled through the chamber.
The walls flickered.
The runes dimmed.
A thin crack split across the ceiling, dripping black sap like ink‑stained rain.
Noctis's voice trembled. "It's getting worse."
Another pulse — weaker this time.
Aeris stepped closer to me, anger replaced by fear. "We need to move. Now."
But the Haven wasn't done with us.
I took a breath. "There's something you all need to know."
The guardians turned toward me.
"In the trial… I saw the First Guardian again."
Elias's eyes widened.
Rowan's hand curled at his side.
Sylas stayed steady beside me.
Aeris's jaw clenched.
Noctis's wings folded tight.
"He was begging the Haven," I whispered. "He offered anything. Everything. Just to bring me back."
Silence fell like a weight.
Elias's voice cracked. "He loved you that much…"
Aeris looked away, fists trembling. "What did he give up? What did he become?"
Rowan's voice was soft, pained. "Rielun… this changes everything."
Noctis swallowed hard. "The Hollow isn't just a monster. It's grief. His grief."
Sylas's hand brushed mine — a grounding touch, gentle and steady.
"We'll find the truth," he murmured. "Together."
The Haven pulsed again — faint, flickering.
A violent tremor ripped through the chamber.
The crack in the ceiling split wider.
Black sap poured down in thick, hissing rivulets.
A distorted voice echoed through the walls.
"Little… one…"
The guardians moved instantly — but this time, Rowan wasn't quiet or overshadowed.
He stepped forward with a sharp, practiced motion, staff in one hand, sword in the other. The runes carved into his staff flared to life, casting a warm, protective glow that pushed back the dripping darkness.
"Circle!" Rowan commanded — not loud, but steady and sure.
And they listened.
Sylas moved in front of me.
Elias took my right side.
Aeris took the left.
Noctis's wings snapped open behind us.
Rowan anchored the front of the circle, planting his staff into the ground with a resonant thud. A shimmering barrier rippled outward from the point of impact, forming a half‑dome of protective light.
The Hollow's hand slammed against it — and the barrier held.
Rowan didn't flinch.
His sword was raised in his other hand, angled defensively, ready to intercept anything that broke through. His stance was steady, grounded, unshakable — the kind of posture that said he'd die before letting anything touch me.
Aeris glanced at him, startled. "Rowan—"
Rowan didn't look away from the Hollow. "Focus."
The barrier flickered as the Hollow pressed harder, black sap sizzling against the light.
Rowan gritted his teeth, channeling more power through his staff. The runes brightened, the barrier thickened, and the Hollow's hand recoiled with a distorted hiss.
Elias exhaled shakily. "You're holding it back."
Rowan's voice was low, steady. "Not for long. Get ready."
The Hollow slammed the barrier again, cracks spiderwebbing across the glowing surface.
Rowan shifted his stance, sword raised, staff braced, every muscle taut with determination.
"I've got the front," he said. "Protect Rielun."
For a moment — a brief, breathtaking moment — Rowan wasn't the quiet mage or the reluctant guardian.
He was a knight.
My knight.
The barrier shattered.
And the Haven forced the next trial to appear.
The floor beneath my feet lit up.
A spiral of unstable light spread outward, glitching, flickering, struggling to hold shape.
A doorway formed — but it wavered, edges dissolving and reforming like a dying flame.
A rune burned on the floor.
Elias knelt, reading it aloud.
"The heart must be reclaimed."
Aeris's voice was sharp. "Whose heart?"
Noctis whispered, "The First Guardian's?"
Rowan murmured, "Or Rielun's…"
Sylas's hand found mine again — steady, grounding.
"Either way," he said softly, "we go together."
The Hollow slammed against the wall, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
The Haven pulsed once — weak, desperate.
And then I heard it.
A voice I knew.
A voice I remembered.
A voice that made my chest ache.
"Find me…"
The First Guardian.
Calling to me.
The doorway flickered violently