Chapter 199
Chapter 199
*Jiselle*
That night, I didn’t sleep.
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I tried. Gods, I tried. I curled beneath the thin wool blanket, stared at the ceiling for hours, let the candles burn low, one by one, until their flames sputtered and died. But the heat under my skin wouldn’t let me rest. It wasn’t fever. It wasn’t illness.
It was power.
Too much of it, pulsing just beneath the surface like a storm itching to break through. The mark across my spine–normally quiet unless I channeled–had begun to burn. Not just warm. Not just alive.
Agitated. Like something was crawling beneath it, clawing to get out.
I sat up slowly, the air cold against my sweat–dampened skin. The room was still, but not peaceful. Still in the way forests are just before lightning strikes.
I couldn’t breathe.
So I lit a candle.
Then another.
The flames danced wildly, their movements erratic–as if they sensed it too.
I pulled a cloak around my shoulders and slipped through the halls of the stronghold. No one stirred. Not Ethan. Not Nate. Not even the sentries.
Everything was asleep.
Everything except me.
And the flame.
I stopped when I reached my room again, though it hadn’t been my intention. My feet had brought me here like they remembered something I didn’t. I hesitated outside the door, hand hovering over the handle.
Then I pushed it open.
The door creaked.
Not the usual squeak of old hinges—but something deeper. Hollow. Like bone being twisted until it splintered.
Inside, the room was as I’d left it. The same bed. The same faded tapestries. The same old bookshelf no one had touched in decades.
14.23 Thu Sep 4
Chapter 199
55 your
There it was gesin
A fait sound low and jagged–like something splitting open from the inside out.
Wood
I turned my head toward the far wall, where the strange tree had been growing for weeks. A sapling once, now nearly touching the ceiling, ted by something I didn’t understand. I’d never watered it. Never tended to it. Ariver it grew
The bark was darker than before, black as coal, eviges shimmering faintly like they’d been kissed by gold leaf. The leaves themselves trembled–not from wind, but from something internal. Like the whole thing was breathing
Or watching
Then I saw it.
The crack
Thin and jagged, running up the center of the trunk. A hairline fracture, but deep. Too deep. It hadn’t been there before. The tree had always been whole, unbroken.
Until now.
I moved closer, one step at a time, breath caught in my throat. Something inside me screamed to stop. To turn around. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I was already bound to this
The crack widened, slow and deliberate, the sound of it splitting like skin stretched past its limit. Like flesh tearing open under pressure.
Like bone giving way.
And from the darkness inside that hollow trunk, something slid forward.
Not fast.
Not with violence.
But with purpose.
It caught the candlelight first–metal glowing softly violet. Not silver. Not steel.
Veilstone.
14:23 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 199
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Veins of gold threaded through it like veins in marble. Its edge was curved, sharp, wicked. The hilt was obsidian, etched with unfamiliar runes, and pulsing faintly as though it had its own heart.
Alive.
Waiting.
It hovered for a second, just beyond the bark.
Then fell.
I caught it.
My fingers closed around the hilt without thinking, without hesitation, like it had been made for my grip alone.
And gods help me–it was warm.
Not like heated metal. Not like something forged in fire.
Warm like blood.
Warm like skin.
Warm like home.
It felt familiar.
And wrong.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to drop it. But I couldn’t. The blade hummed in my hand, responding to something in me–or perhaps in her.
Because the moment my skin touched the weapon, the child inside me kicked.
Hard.
I gasped, staggering back a step.
And then it hit me.
Not pain.
Not words.
A vision.
No, a memory.
Aedric.
14:23 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 198
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“No.” He sat up slowly, every movement stiff with weariness. His face twisted slightly as he shifted, a hand pressing to his side like it hurt just to breathe. “It’s not.”
I made my way toward him, my pulse a slow throb in my ears. “You’ve barely looked at me lately.”
“That’s not true,” he murmured.
I stopped just shy of him, folding my arms across my chest. “Isn’t it?”
His jaw tightened. He looked away again, toward the telescope in the far corner, toward the nothing waiting in the dark.
“It’s hard to look at someone,” he said, voice low, “when you feel like you’re losing them.”
The words hit harder than they should’ve. Maybe because I’d felt it too–that silent drifting. That slow slide from closeness into distance, like the bond had a shoreline and we were each on a different end, carried by tides we couldn’t control.
My throat tightened, “You’re not losing me.”
“Aren’t I?” His eyes finally met mine then, and gods, they looked tired. Not just from pain or war or prophecy. But from trying. “I don’t know how to help anymore, Jiselle. I don’t know if I’m helping. You’re growing stronger. Brighter. And I’m just-”
He broke off. Dragged a hand through his hair.
“I’m just trying to keep up.”
I sat beside him slowly, the cushion dipping under our combined weight. “Nate…”
“I don’t want to fade into the background,” he whispered. “But I think I already am.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Because part of me understood. I could feel the ways I was changing- becoming more than I had ever been. More than he had ever known. And I hadn’t meant to leave him behind. But maybe I had anyway.
I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.
He didn’t pull away.
But he didn’t hold on either.
He let our palms touch. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. But without the pressure. Without the choice to stay.
It was worse than being pushed away.
Because it meant he didn’t know if he could reach me anymore.
We sat like that for a long time. The sky darkened, the moon shifted, and neither of us moved. A single candle flickered in, the far alcove, its light barely enough to keep the shadows at bay.
14:23 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 198
When I finally stood to leave, something in his posture tensed–like he wanted to stop me.
But he didn’t.
I bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Gentle. Lingering.
He flinched.
Not from pain.
From doubt.
And the way his shoulders curled inward told me everything I needed to know.
He didn’t believe I was his anymore.
And the worst part?
I didn’t know if I was either.
I walked out of the observatory with that kiss still burning on my lips–ash and salt and sorrow.
And it hurt more than any prophecy ever could.
AD
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14:23 Thu Sep 4
Chapter 199
Chapter 199
Jiselle
That night, I didn’t sleep.
56
55 vouchers
I tried. Gods, I tried. I curled beneath the thin wool blanket, stared at the ceiling for hours, let the candles burn low, one by one, until their flames sputtered and died. But the heat under my skin wouldn’t let me rest. It wasn’t fever. It wasn’t illness.
It was power.
Too much of it, pulsing just beneath the surface like a storm itching to break through. The mark across my spine–normally quiet unless I channeled–had begun to burn. Not just warm. Not just alive.
Agitated. Like something was crawling beneath it, clawing to get out.
I sat up slowly, the air cold against my sweat–dampened skin. The room was still, but not peaceful. Still in the way forests are just before lightning strikes.
I couldn’t breathe.
So I lit a candle.
Then another.
The flames danced wildly, their movements erratic–as if they sensed it too.
I pulled a cloak around my shoulders and slipped through the halls of the stronghold. No one stirred. Not Ethan. Not Nate. Not even the sentries.
Everything was asleep.
Everything except me.
And the flame.
I stopped when I reached my room again, though it hadn’t been my intention. My feet had brought me here like they remembered something I didn’t. I hesitated outside the door, hand hovering over the handle.
Then I pushed it open.
The door creaked.
Not the usual squeak of old hinges–but something deeper. Hollow. Like bone being twisted until it splintered.
Inside, the room was as I’d left it. The same bed. The same faded tapestries. The same old bookshelf no one had touched in decades.
14:23 Tow. Sed &
Cluster
Seil Sienn
Excer
There it was arr
A faint sound low and jurred–like something splitting open from the inside out.
Wed
56
a vouchers
I named my head toward the far wall, where the strange tree had been growing for weeks. A sapling once, now mearly nouching the ceiling, fed by something I didn’t understand. I’d never watered it. Never tended to it And yes in gre
The bark was darker than before black as coal, edges shimmering faintly like they’d been kissed by gold leaf. The leaves themselves trembled–not from wind, but from something internal. Like the whole thing was breathing
Or watching
Then I saw in
The cock
Thin and jagged running up the center of the trunk. A hairline fracture, but deep. Too deep. It hadn’t been there before. The tree had always been whole, unbroken.
Carl now
I moved closer, one step at a time, breath caught in my throat. Something inside me screamed to stop. To warm around. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I was already bound to this.
The crack widened, slow and deliberate, the sound of it splitting like skin stretched past its limit. Like flesh tearing open under pressure.
Like boce giving way
And from the darkness inside that hollow trunk, something slid forward.
Not fast
Not with violence.
But with purpose.
It caught the candlelight Erst–metal glowing softly violet. Not silver. Not steel
Vellstone
14:23 Thu Sep 4
Chapter 199
$5 vouch
Vez of gold threaded through it like veins in marble. Its edge was curved, sharp, wicked. The hilt was obsadian, etched with unfamiliar runes, and pulsing faintly as though it had its own heart.
Alive
Waiting
It hovered for a second, just beyond the bark
Then fell
I caught it
My fingers closed around the hilt without thinking without hesitation, like it had been made for my grip
alone.
And gods help me–it was warm.
Not like heated metal. Not like something forged in fire.
Warm like blood
Warm like skin
Warm like home.
It felt familiar
And wrong
Every instinct I had screamed as me to drop it. But I couldn’t. The blade harmed in my hand, responding to something in me- or perhaps in fuent
Because the moment my skin ochend the weapon, the child inside me kicked
Hand
I gasped, staggering back a step
And then it hit me.
Not pain
Not words
No, & memory.
Aedric
14:24 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 199
56
55 vouchers
Standing beneath the mountain, cloaked in shadow. Veiled light poured down behind him, throwing his form into sharp silhouette. His face hidden. His posture calm. Hands outstretched.
Not reaching.
Inviting.
He didn’t speak.
But I heard it anyway.
Felt it in my bones. My blood. The mark on my back igniting like it had been branded again.
The words weren’t whispered.
They echoed.
They didn’t come from Aedric’s lips.
They came from the blade.
“Choose.”
The dagger pulsed once in my hand. A slow, thudding pulse–like a heartbeat trying to sync with my own.
And something inside me… answered.
Not with words. Not with thought.
With knowing.
This wasn’t a gift.
It was a test.
The tree sealed behind me with a slow groan, bark fusing together again until there was no sign of the fracture.
I stood alone in the room, the dagger heavy in my hand.
The hum of it vibrated up my wrist, through my elbow, into my chest–like it was trying to become part of
- me.
Or already was.
I pressed my palm against my stomach, where the child had kicked moments ago. She was still now. Quiet.
But not gone.
Just watching.
14:24 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 199
56
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Like the flame inside her understood something I hadn’t yet. Something ancient. Something inevitable.
My eyes burned. 1 squeezed them shut.
Aedric.
That name felt like ash in my mouth now.
I could still see him–in every dark shadow, in every flicker of power I didn’t understand. But more terrifying than his presence…
Was my reaction to it.
Because part of me didn’t feel fear.
Part of me felt recognition.
I didn’t understand what that meant.
But I knew this:
Every bond I had–Nate, Ethan, the child–was now part of something much bigger than any of us. Something older than the Gate, than the flame, than the Veil itself.
This dagger was proof.
A door had opened.
And I no longer knew which side I stood on.
AD
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
