36. Seren
SEREN
Sleep takes me like a tide.
I don’t remember lying down, only the way the dark folded around me—soft, heavy, and endless. When I open my eyes, I’m standing in water the colour of ink. It ripples with starlight instead of reflections. Lavender and the scent of burnt honey linger in the air.
“You found me again, child,” her voice murmurs.
She rises from the horizon as if shaped by the night itself. Golden hair drifts on an invisible current, gold dust caught in its strands. She looks younger than before—or perhaps I have simply begun to see her as she wishes to be seen.
“Clever girl,” she whispers. The corners of her lips curve upward, and the edges of her eyes soften and crinkle. “I knew you would find me.”
I take a step closer. The water offers no ripples in my wake. “What is this place?”
“A dream,” she says softly. “The place where we meet when the world tries to keep us apart.”
“The shrines,” I begin, desperate for the answers that have plagued me for days. “What are they? Why must I enter them?”
“They are pieces of me, child. When the Triarch captured me, they used the source of all their power to shatter me, scattering the shards of my soul throughout the land.” She offers a smile so practiced it is merely muscle memory forming—a delicate, brittle thing.
“But why?” I ask, searching for the answer centuries of fables have hidden. “Why would they do that?”
“Because the shadows scare them. They believe the darkness within corrupts the mind. To ignore the dark is to be pure. To be strong. To be obedient.”
“But that isn’t true.”
A wistful smile touches her mouth, but her eyes are watery with unshed tears.
“I know, child. But they do not believe that. I fear they never will. My sisters and I are cast into eternal damnation simply for who we are, and the threat we pose to their purity.” Her eyes drift through me, lost to a distant memory.
“What did they do to your sisters?”
As quickly as it arrived, her smile vanishes. “That, my child, is a story for another day.”
I clear my throat, forcing the unspoken questions back down. “The shrine,” I say, the memory of that single, silver bubble filling my mind. “I felt as if it took something from me while I was trapped below. It wasn’t pain—it was an absence. Like a room in my chest had been emptied and locked.”
Nyx tilts her head, her smile returning.
“Offerings are never a loss, my child. They are bridges between the mortal and the divine. You opened the first gate the moment that map imprinted in your mind.” Her manicured finger taps my temple.
“Now, they will only open for you, and we can speak as we were always meant to.”
My mind reels. “I don’t understand…why me?”
“You and I,” she says, her hand suddenly cupping my cheek. Her fingers are cool, leaving a shimmer on my skin like moonlight. “Mother and daughter by destiny. Two halves of the same soul finding one another again.”
“But—” I lean into her touch even as my brow hardens. “—you aren’t my blood mother. How did this happen?”
Her eyes gleam, twin crescents in the dark. “You were given as a gift, my child.” The word gift curdles in my stomach. “A bargain struck in blood and shadow to ensure our line—our true purpose—would one day be fulfilled.”
The water stills, its surface mirroring glass. The weight of the revelation moors me to its depths, and my vision blurs. “My—”
“Hush, my sweet.” She presses a cold finger to my lips. “Do not fear what you do not yet need to know. Fear is the language of those who burned me. You will learn in time. For now, rest. Your journey will be long, and they will hunt you for what you carry.”
The stars overhead brighten until they are blinding. Nyx steps back, her form blurring into the brilliance.
“Mother?” I call out, guilt gnawing at my insides. “What do I do with Eira? And the staff?”
“Like calls to like, my child. The path ahead requires a power you do not yet possess—the staff will provide it. And Eira,” she looks longingly to her side, as if her friend were there.
“Eira is my beacon; the wisdom in the dark. She is the most valuable possession I have.” Her gaze returns to me.
“She will help you navigate the world of Light and beyond. You need only ask.”
“But—where must I go?”
“The map of stars beneath your gaze holds the truth. Unlock the sacred places. Each demands two prices: the temper of your spirit…and an offering of your very essence.”
I shake my head, struggling to decipher her mythic words. “If I must give pieces of myself as payment…what is the price I’ve already paid?”
She looks away into the blinding white behind her, searching for something in the glare. “A currency you have only just begun to use.”
My thoughts turn incoherent as her voice grows distant.
“When you wake, remember the power that runs through your veins. Remember the tools that you carry.”
The world tilts. The starlit water drains away, leaving only her last whisper curling through the void.
A price has already been paid—and whatever it was, I no longer feel it when I should.