Chapter Twenty-Four
ELYSSARA
The morning air in Mavyrn’s cottage feels heavy, charged with an energy that prickles against my skin.
I rouse to the scent of herbs. Something faintly metallic fills my lungs as I watch Mavyrn work, her long fingers moving with precision as she arranges vials and stones on the worn table.
Every now and then, she mutters under her breath, words I can’t catch but that seem to carry weight, nonetheless.
Therion, of course, is pacing. His boots thud softly against the wooden floor, his frustration practically vibrating off him. “Are you sure this thing won’t send us into the side of a mountain?” he grumbles.
Mavyrn doesn’t even glance at him, her sharp gray eyes fixed on the glowing circle she’s been crafting in the center of the room. “If it does, it’ll be because you’re too sour for the Gateway to tolerate.”
Kael snorts quietly from his place against the wall, arms crossed, his lips twitching as though fighting back a smile. “Careful, Therion. She’s known to curse people for less,” he croons.
Therion growls, muttering something I can’t hear, but Mavyrn cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “Oh, hush, you grump. You act like I’ve never met someone with a guarded heart before. Let it go, or the Gateway might just spit you back out.”
I stifle a laugh and glance at the shimmering circle etched into the floor.
I’ve never seen—or heard of—anything like this in my lifetime.
This is magic that goes beyond the constellations.
This is sorcery of legend—something I’d hear whispered in fever dreams or half-burned books.
Threads of light twist and weave through the air above it, glowing faintly with a rainbow hue that shifts as I move closer.
The magic pulses softly, the hum low and melodic, like the strings of an unseen instrument.
It’s mesmerizing and a little unnerving, as if the threads have a mind of their own.
“What... is it?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended.
Mavyrn finally looks up, her expression softening just slightly.
“This,” she says, gesturing to the circle, “is a Gateway of Threads. A passage spun from the fabric of magic itself. Gateways can take you anywhere, so long as you have a piece of the place with you. This one will take you to the foot of Lyssar Temple—I had a little something in my jars from there. But be warned, it’s not without its risks. ”
Her words hang in the air, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the Gateway. The threads seem to shimmer more brightly as I stare, drawing me in. I almost cannot believe that I am looking at the very essence of magic.
“Risks?” Ronyn asks, his tone light, though his eyes are sharp.
“The Gateway is bound to only take you to the temple. It listens to intention. If you think of anywhere else, even for a heartbeat, it’ll spit you out—or worse. The Gateway demands your trust and focus. Think solely of Lyssar Temple, step clearly into its center, and free fall,” Mavyrn explains.
“Great,” Therion mutters, crossing his arms. “A magic doorway with a fucking attitude.”
Mavyrn shoots him a sharp look. “Be glad I can sense the purity of your heart, Therion. I’d have cursed that scowl off your face years ago.”
Ronyn chuckles, and even Kael allows himself a small smile. I can’t help but feel a flicker of warmth toward the older woman. She might be jarring, but there’s an undeniable care in her sharp words.
Then her gaze shifts to Kael, and her expression softens further, though a shadow passes over her face. “And you,” she says, her voice quieter now. “You carry too much. You always have. Be careful, Kael. You can’t have it both ways.”
Kael stiffens, his jaw tightening, but he doesn’t respond. The silence feels heavy, weighted by something unsaid.
What does that mean?
Finally, Mavyrn turns to me. Her eyes seem to pierce right through me, seeing more than I want to reveal. “Elyssara, you are more than the Lightborne—do not forget that,” she says, stepping closer. “Your path is not an easy one, and betrayal often comes from the places we trust most. Be vigilant.”
The words send a shiver down my spine, but I nod, swallowing hard. I don’t know what to say, so I simply stay quiet.
“Now,” Mavyrn says, clapping her hands once, breaking the tension. “Gather yourselves. The Gateway won’t hold forever.”
Kael steps forward first, his movements confident and purposeful. The threads of the Gateway ripple as he approaches, almost like they’re alive, responding to him. He pauses just before stepping in and turns to me, his blue eyes steady.
“Ready yourselves on the other side—we don’t know what’s waiting for us,” he says. And then he’s gone, the threads swallowing him in a burst of light.
Therion follows, his steps grudging but firm. The threads seem to tighten around him, and I catch the faintest flicker of unease on his face before he disappears.
Ronyn winks at me as he steps forward. “See you on the other side, El.” He vanishes into the light, the hum of the Gateway shifting faintly as he passes through.
Seren hesitates, her eyes wide as she looks from me to Mavyrn. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
Mavyrn places a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, child. The Gateway knows who you are, even if you don’t.”
Seren eyes her warily, but nods, her movements stiff, and steps into the circle. The threads shimmer around her before she vanishes like the others.
I’m the last. I rise slowly, my leg still weak, but my determination steady. I glance at Mavyrn, searching her face for the softness beneath her thorns. Needing the assurance of someone who stands to gain nothing from me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, and I mean it.
Mavyrn smiles, the warmth in it unexpected but genuine. “You’ll do great things, Elyssara. But remember—greatness always comes at a price.”
I step into the circle, the threads shifting around me like silk brushing against my skin. The hum grows louder, the air thick with energy. For a moment, I feel weightless, untethered. And then the light swallows me whole, and the world falls away.