40. Seren
SEREN
The abandoned warehouse is a husk of timber and dust.
Dusk leaks through the high window, slicing across the floor.
The air smells of old grain and oil; rats scurry in the rafters, their frantic feet scratching overhead.
Eira tracks their path, her violet gaze unblinking and ravenous.
If they slip, they will fall to their deaths; they don’t stand a chance against her.
My heart gives a painful, wonderful jolt against my ribs. Her coarse, black fur absorbs the light like a tide over dark waters. A sight I could stare at for hours—another time, perhaps.
But it’s her eyes—those incredible violet pools—that offer an affection as real as a physical embrace.
She pants softly, her purple tongue lolling in a signal of comfort and adoration.
Or perhaps hunger. It’s impossible to feel small and human beside her—and yet, I am more myself than I have ever been.
I have never truly met her, not as a girl from the Hollow, yet a spark of recognition shivers through me. I don’t know this wolfe, yet my heart knows her soul. We’ve danced this dance before.
Since the shadows dragged me from that pool, Seren feels distant. A different kind of power waits inside me now—deep, patient and cold. I should be afraid.
But I’m not.
That frightens me more than any scream. I feel seen. Heard. Connected.
Kael sleeps in the corner, his back against a rotting barrel. His spectacles are tilted, ready to slip. Whenever I look at him, a tremor of energy curls through my chest and the world falls away, as if I’m suddenly exposed under his gaze.
His white hair hangs limp, moving in time with his shallow breaths. This connection has magnified since we stepped into the shrines. I can tell he feels it, too; every time pain lances his wrist.
Why do we share this?
Shivers lace my skin as her voice burrows into my skull—invasive, deliberate, pressing where my thoughts are weakest.
He is the Light to your Shadow, my child. A time will come when you will need one another.
But why? My voice carries down the thread.
The prophecy requires a balance of both to be fulfilled. He is marked. His path was written long ago, whether he likes it or not.
Kael stirs, wiping his nose with a restless finger.
What path? What prophecy? Urgency laces my words.
A phantom nail scrapes the inside of my thoughts, goosebumps coating the skin on my neck. Your path to freedom, child. Is that not what this is for? The nail digs deeper, carving grooves into my mind. Her words sound so certain. So easy.
The staff at my side begins to glow, spreading velvet rays across the timber like a small moonrise.
The Light feels the tremor, she whispers. It will send its hounds.
I rub my temples, trying to drown out the pain as I struggle to interpret her riddles. The warehouse door groans with every gust of wind, each bang making me wince. A shift is coming; even mother nature can sense it.
Through a serrated hole in the timber, I glimpse the outskirts of Auria—the ocean stretching out like a canvas of shimmering silver under the Great Pale Mother’s light.
“We have to move,” Kael says, his voice a low rasp before he even opens his eyes. “The guards will be hesitant to patrol under the moon. We need to stretch the distance while we can.”
“How many will be at the Hollow’s entrance?” I ask.
He sits upright, adjusting his spectacles and smoothing his hair. “I’m sure the entire city’s guards have been notified of your escape, Seren. We have to expect the worst.”
“My shadows will—”
“No,” he demands, his voice pierced with authority. “You will not use brute force against my people. I won’t allow it.” He looks up, his eyes burning—silver laced with a violet tinge from the staff’s glow.
When I don’t respond, he leans forward. “You’re talking about killing innocent men who know nothing but the lies they’ve been fed.”
“And do you not think they wouldn’t kill me given the chance?” My words are as cold as the frost on the glass.
Silence is his only answer. Outside, bells toll two clear, heavy notes. Kael’s eyes widen. “Curfew patrols. We have to go.”
He rushes to his feet, scanning the abandoned room. “There’s another way.”
My brow creases. “If there were another way in or out of the Hollow, I would have found it years ago.”
“Not this one. It’s an old maintenance shaft for the aqueducts that feeds into the lower canals.
It’s narrow, half-collapsed. The guards won’t bother with it—and they certainly won’t expect us there.
” He scratches his chin, his gaze distant.
“If we reach it before the next sweep, we can emerge near the Hollow’s edge without spilling a drop of blood. ”
I study him. Exhaustion carves deep lines into his face, yet a steely determination has taken hold.
“Fine.” I say. “Show me.”
He nods, slinging his cloak over his shoulders. “We’ll move when the bells change again. The shift guard walks the sea road at first moonlight.”
I glance at the cracks in the timber where the light struggles to reach us. The rays warm my skin—and I let them—soaking in the Great Pale Mother’s strength until it thrums in my marrow.
“How many of them will be there?”
“The Triarch will have every gate covered,” he says quietly, his brow furrowed in thought. “They’ll know you’ll try to reach the Hollow. It’s the only world you know.”
“Then we’ll give them what they expect,” I murmur. “Just not the version of me they remember.”
He watches me, his eyes grazing over me until a heat flashes up my neck.
He winces suddenly, catching his wrist in his hand to stifle the pain underneath.
Shaking his head, he pulls his hood low, masking his features in shadow.
He unlatches the door with a scholar’s precision, making no more noise than a breath.
Milky light spills across the floor. My cheeks lift, and my mouth parts, exposing my teeth to the silver shine—as if the Goddess herself is standing right there with me.
The bells toll again. Eira moves to my side, her fur brushing my leg as the shadows coil around my feet. I grip the staff, feeling the vibration of the amethyst eye.
“Ready?” he asks.
“As ready as I can be.”
We slip into the darkened corners of the nearest alley. The city sleeps around us, draped in the Mother’s silver. The air is clean, sharp, and poised for the storm we are about to unleash.
Beneath my feet, the river tunnels wait like veins beneath skin—leading us toward the dark that still remembers my name.
And soon, the Light will remember it, too.