Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Senara
I lifted the chalice to my lips, the liquid within catching the dual light of moon and Everdawn. It swirled hypnotically, neither mixing nor separating, much like the conflicting magics within me.
"Thorn," I said, my voice steadier than I felt, "if something goes wrong..."
"Nothing will go wrong," he interrupted, the muscle in his jaw tightening. "And if it does, I'll be right here." The leather of his sword hilt creaked slightly as he squeezed it, trying to keep his emotions under control so they didn't overwhelm me through the soul bond.
His certainty gave me courage though, and with one last deep breath, I tipped the chalice and drank.
The liquid was neither hot nor cold but somehow both, sliding down my throat like liquid starlight. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the world exploded into prismatic color.
I gasped as my knees buckled. The Gardens shifted and blurred, colors bleeding into one another until I could no longer distinguish tree from sky, water from earth. Through the kaleidoscope of sensation, I heard Thorn call my name, but his voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
My body felt weightless, suspended between realities. The conflicting magics within me, sun and moon, fire and frost, no longer fought for dominance, but danced together in a pattern as old as time itself.
"The first part begins," Van's voice echoed, though I couldn't see him anymore. "Balance what has been divided."
Before me materialized two orbs of light, one blazing gold, the other shimmering silver. They circled each other like wary predators, never touching, always maintaining distance.
Instinctively, I reached out with both hands, one toward each orb. The gold light warmed my right palm while the silver cooled my left. I could feel them pulling away from each other, straining against my grasp.
"They don't want to merge," I said, though I wasn't sure if I spoke aloud or merely thought the words.
"They have been separate too long," came Van's disembodied reply. "They have forgotten they were once one."
I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of both magics flowing through me. Instead of forcing them together, I let them flow into me, through me, becoming a conduit rather than a container.
The magics coursed through me, distinct yet connected by my flesh and blood. I drew them closer, not by force, but by acceptance. The gold and silver lights trembled, resisting at first, then gradually yielding to my will.
"That's it," I whispered. "You're two halves of the same whole."
As the orbs neared each other, their light intensified until I had to squint against the brilliance. When they finally touched, there was no explosion, no dramatic flash, just a soft sigh, like the universe exhaling after holding its breath for eons.
The merged light pulsed once, twice, then floated into my chest, suffusing my body with warmth that was neither burned nor freezing but perfectly balanced. My Mark responded, the intricate whorls, bumps, and circles flaring with newfound harmony.
"The first part is complete," Van's voice announced. "Now comes the second. What was broken must be reforged."
The scene shifted again. I stood before a forge unlike any I'd seen before. Its fires burned with that same dual colored flame, gold and silver intertwined. On an anvil lay shattered pieces of metal that gleamed despite their broken state.
"The Crescent Diadem," I realized. "It's been destroyed."
"Not destroyed," Van corrected. "Unmade. There is a difference."
I approached the anvil, studying the fragments. Each piece called to me, singing with remnants of ancient power. When I touched the first shard, visions flooded my mind, memories not my own but belonging to the artifact itself.
I saw the Diadem whole, resting upon the brow of a being neither fully of the sun nor moon courts. I saw it used to heal rifts between worlds, to banish darkness, to unite what had been sundered. And I saw it deliberately broken, its power scattered to prevent it from falling into corrupted hands.
"It was never meant to be separate pieces," I murmured, understanding dawning. "Just as I was never meant to be divided between sun and moon."
The hammer beside the anvil rose of its own accord, hovering before me. I grasped it, feeling its perfect balance in my hand. It was neither heavy nor light, it simply was.
With newfound clarity, and an instinct I'd never possessed until that moment, I began the work of reforging the Diadem.
Each strike of the hammer sent ripples of magic through the forge. The fragments jumped and shifted under my blows, sometimes seeming to resist, other times almost melting together of their own accord. Sweat beaded on my brow as I worked, the dual flames casting my figure in eerie fluctuating colors of shadow across the ethereal workshop.
"The Diadem remembers its true form," I whispered to myself. "It wants to be whole again."
As I worked, memories continued to flow from the metal into my mind, not just the Diadem's past, but glimpses of those who had worn it before. I saw faces similar to mine, marked by both courts, carrying the burden of balance through ages of strife and reconciliation.
With each strike, the fragments grew more pliant, more eager to rejoin. The final blow rang out with a note so pure it brought tears to my eyes. The pieces flowed together like quicksilver, reshaping themselves into a circlet of breathtaking beauty, a crescent moon intertwined with rays of sunlight, neither overpowering the other.
The Diadem hovered before me, complete once more, radiating power that called to the magic in my blood. As I reached for it, the world shifted again, and I stood on what appeared to be a precipice between day and night. To my left stretched an endless twilight, to my right an eternal dawn.
"The last part," Van's voice echoed around me. "Choose your path."
I looked down at the Diadem in my hands, then back at the diverging landscapes. The choice seemed obvious, too obvious.
"No," I said firmly. "This isn't about choosing between sun and moon anymore. That's the old way of thinking."
I stepped backward, away from both paths, and felt solid ground form beneath my feet where there had been none before. A third way, invisible until I refused the false dichotomy. It all echoed what I had been through in Moonweaver's Grove. It was a false choice, not if I really wanted to choose the best path forward.
"I choose both," I declared. "I choose balance."
The Diadem in my hands flared with brilliant light, and I lifted it to my brow. The moment it touched my skin, the conflicting magics within me aligned with such sudden clarity that I gasped. For the first time since my Mark had appeared, I felt truly whole.
The world spun back into focus. I found myself standing knee deep in the shimmering lake, the Crescent Diadem now physically manifest in my hands. Its weight felt familiar, as if I'd held it a thousand times before.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and staggered a step forward. It felt like I'd been holding my breath, my lungs burning with the new intake of air.
"Senara!" Thorn waded toward me, concern etched across his features. "Are you alright? You were standing there frozen for minutes."
I blinked hard, trying to reconcile the space I'd just been with the lake I stood in now. "I'm fine. Better than fine, actually."
The Diadem caught the light, its metals shifting between silver and gold depending on how I turned it. The craftsmanship was exquisite, delicate crescents intertwined with sunburst patterns, forming a circlet that seemed to breathe with its own life.
"You did it," Van whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. "The Eclipsed Crown... I never thought I'd see it restored."
Wyn approached cautiously. "Is it... safe to touch?"
"It's safe," I assured her, though I couldn't explain how I knew. The knowledge simply existed in me now, as if it had always been there, waiting to be remembered rather than learned. Anyone could touch it, but only I could access its power, or another like me, an Eclipse Child.
I handed her the circlet, watching as she grasped it, her inky fingers dark against the metal. She frowned. "Isn't it supposed to be magical? Powerful? I sense nothing."
"Because it's already tied to Senara," Van shared.
With trembling fingers, I raised the Diadem to my head. The moment it settled upon my brow, warmth spread through me. My Mark responded, illuminating with a steady glow that was neither the harsh brilliance of sunlight nor the cool radiance of moonbeams, but something new altogether.
"How do you feel?" Thorn asked, his voice low.
"Complete," I answered honestly. The warring magics within me had found harmony, neither dominating nor submitting, but coexisting in perfect balance. "For the first time, I feel like myself, whoever that is."
Van circled me, studying the Diadem with scholarly interest. "The legends say the Eclipsed Crown grants its wearer clarity of purpose and protection against corruption. It was created in an age when the courts were one, before the great schism."
"It feels..." I searched for the right words. "It feels like it's always been a part of me, just waiting to be found again."
A distant howl cut through the tranquility of the Twilight Gardens, reminding us of the danger still pursuing us.
"We should move," Thorn said, hand returning to his sword hilt. "That crown won't mean much if we're torn apart by feral fae."
“But I thought they couldn’t get in? They ran through us like shadows before.” I looked at our bard.
Van just shrugged. “The Gardens probably thought the energy was too discordant when they were right next to us, but if they approached later that could be different. Or maybe these fae only had a small amount of corruption in them when they crossed into the Gardens and then it fully took them over. All I can say is that I didn’t expect them to be here.”
The howl echoed again, sharper this time, slicing through the fragile peace of the Twilight Gardens. My heart raced as I turned to Thorn, who already wore that determined expression. He stood like a wall between me and the encroaching danger, and somehow, that steadied me.
"We need to find shelter," I said, urgency creeping into my voice. "If they're close enough to howl like that..."
"They'll be here soon," Thorn cut in. He nodded toward a thicket of silver leaved trees nearby. "Over there."
As we sprinted toward the cover of the trees, I felt the weight of the Diadem pressing against my forehead, a constant reminder of my newfound identity and purpose. I hoped it would protect us as we navigated whatever lay ahead.
Wyn hurried beside me, her wide eyes darting nervously from side to side. "What if they find us before we can figure out how to use the Diadem?"
I didn't have an answer for her. My fingers brushed against its cool surface as if searching for guidance. "We'll manage," I assured her, even though doubt lingered in my mind.
Thorn led us into the dense foliage, where shadows danced under the silvery light filtering through the leaves. We crouched low behind a gnarled trunk, breaths heavy and quick.
I strained to hear over my heartbeat, scanning our surroundings for signs of movement or sound that would betray our position. The tension in the air thickened as silence settled around us.
"I hope they don't come this way," Wyn whispered.
"I won't let them." Thorn's voice was steady despite the uncertainty crackling around us.
Suddenly, rustling erupted nearby, twigs snapping and leaves crunching underfoot. My stomach dropped as a dark figure emerged from the shadows, a corrupted fae with twisted limbs and hollow eyes glowing with malice.
"Senara!" It snarled my name like a curse, a smile revealing rows of jagged teeth. The creature staggered forward, sniffing at the air like it could taste my fear.
My pulse quickened as panic surged within me. "It knows who I am!"
"Stay back!" Thorn positioned himself in front of me, his stance wide and protective.
But before he could strike or I could react further, more figures spilled into view, shadows upon shadows moving toward us from every direction. A chorus of growls filled the air as they encircled our hiding place.
"We're outnumbered," Wyn breathed, panic rising in her tone.
The lead creature's laughter echoed around us, a chilling sound that sent ice through my veins.
"Come out, Eclipse Child," it taunted. "We've been waiting for you."
I swallowed hard; fear tightened its grip around my throat as dread settled deep within me.