I was about to go and speak with Lyla in the protected cave when Cretel's voice suddenly rang clear inside my mind.
"Mastery of Sovereignty… I need to activate it again. Do you give me permission?"
The words stopped me cold. One foot hung in the air, my breath catching in my throat as a familiar, unwelcome chill settled in my chest. It was the same feeling I got every time he asked.
"Why?" I shot back silently, keeping my voice tight, guarded. "Why do you need control of my body again?"
Cretel's reply came without hesitation. His tone was calm, ancient, and completely unyielding, like stone worn smooth by centuries.
"I have an important task to complete. One that cannot wait. Trust me on this, Mirel. Do you accept?"
I didn't answer right away. For a long moment I stood there in the dim passage, hesitating, my heart thudding against my ribs. Unbidden, the memories surged back. The Luma Kingdom. The streets running red. The screams. I had seen it all through my own eyes, felt my hands move without my will, felt the terrifying, godlike power surge through my limbs as Cretel carved a path of ruthless slaughter. That power still haunted me.
But then I thought of Lyla, waiting just ahead in the cave. For now, she was safe. Hidden. Protected by the wards we'd spent weeks etching into the rock. The real danger wasn't here. It was out there, still circling my family like a storm cloud, patient and hungry. If Cretel's "important task" could end that threat sooner…
I swallowed hard, my jaw clenched, and forced the fear down. The bigger threat was still looming over my family.
"…Yes," I finally answered. "I accept."
The moment the words left my mouth, the golden marks ignited across my skin. They spread like liquid fire, tracing every line and curve until my whole body glowed with their light. The feeling was familiar and terrifying all at once. My limbs began to move without me telling them to, yet my mind stayed wide awake, trapped behind my own eyes. Cretel had taken control again.
She didn't speak. She simply lifted my hand, and the air in front of us split apart with a sound like tearing silk. A jagged rift of light and shadow yawned open, humming with strange power. Without hesitation, she stepped us through it.
We came out on the other side in a place that felt untouched by time. Mist hung low over the ground of an ancient forest, curling between towering trees whose trunks were wider than houses. The air was cool and smelled of wet earth and old magic. In the center of a small glade, lying on a bed of soft green moss, was the elf girl we had saved before.
She was still unconscious. Her silver hair fanned out around her head like a pale halo. The wounds King Rowek had left on her were cruel and deep — cuts across her arms, bruises blooming along her ribs, burns that had barely begun to scab. Worse than the injuries was the dark aura that clung to her skin like smoke, thick and choking. The ancient curse. Cretel had warned me about it.
Cretel lowered us to our knees beside her. Gently, she placed my hand against the elf's forehead. Instantly, golden energy poured from my palm. It wasn't a flood. It was slow, careful, like warm water being poured into a cracked cup. I felt each wound close under my touch. Torn skin knitted itself back together. The ugly purple of bruises faded to nothing. The dark aura hissed and cracked, piece by piece, until it dissolved into the mist and was gone.
The glow in my marks dimmed. My breath came back to me in a shudder. The forest was quiet again, except for the soft sound of the elf girl's breathing — steady now, and free of pain.
A few minutes later, the elf's eyes fluttered open. She sat up slowly, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders like moonlight. The moment she saw me, or rather, Cretel in my body, her expression twisted with pure terror. She had witnessed the massacre in Luma Kingdom with her own eyes. She knew exactly what kind of power she was looking at now.
Her hands clenched the edge of the cot, and a deep, glowing red crept into her irises. She did not scream. She did not run. She just trembled, silent and cornered, as if making a sound would be enough to bring the walls down.
Inside my mind, Cretel's voice was calm, almost bored.
"There is still an ancient curse on her," she said, studying the elf with a single, measuring glance. "It is old. Very old. Even her father, the Elf King, could not remove it."
I held still and watched. Cretel lifted my hand without hurry. With one simple, elegant gesture through the air, like drawing a sigil only she could see, the curse broke. It did not fight or scream. It shattered, clean and quiet, like glass dropped on stone. The dark aura that had clung to the elf peeled away and dissolved into nothing.
The change was immediate. The elf's eyes widened, and the red glow drained from them, fading until only her normal soft silver remained. She pressed a shaking hand to her chest, as if she could feel the absence of something that had lived there her whole life.
"How…?" she whispered. Her voice was a melodic song, beautiful and haunting in the quiet room. "Even my father could not break that curse. How did you…?"
The perfect era has arrived.
Cretel's voice cut through the forest air, cold and empty of feeling.
"The perfect era has arrived."
Beside her, the elf's body went rigid. Her pale green eyes flared a sudden, unnatural red. In the space of a heartbeat, everything about her changed. The shy tremor in her hands vanished. Her back straightened. Her chin lifted with a queen's authority. When she spoke, her voice was deeper, older, layered with something that did not belong to this age.
"Yes," she said, and the word seemed to echo though no echo was possible. "This is the era. The era in which the 5 Weapons, the 3 Primordial Beings, and the 7 Brides have all been born again. My memories have not all returned… that is why I seem broken. But I remember enough. I know what must be done. Until I am whole, we must find the other Primordial Beings and the 5 Weapons. We must break the curse that was laid on them after the last war."
As quickly as the presence had come, it left. The red faded from her eyes. Her body folded like a cut string, and she crumpled to the moss, unconscious.
Moments passed. The forest held its breath. Then she stirred.
When she opened her eyes again, she was herself — or at least, the self we knew. Shy. Wary. But lucid. She looked up at Cretel with a mixture of awe and fear, as if she'd seen a god wear a mortal's skin.
"I… I remember enough now," she whispered. "My name is Nefilina. My home is the heart of the Erogs Forest, at the center of the Elf Kingdom. I ran from it. I was in despair. I didn't mean to stumble into the Luma Kingdom's camp. Please… tell me. How did you remove the curse? My father is the strongest elf alive, and even he could not break it."
Cretel gave no answer to the question. She only repeated the words from before, flat and final.
"The perfect era has come."
Nefilina's eyes bled red again. That ancient weight settled over her features, and her voice dropped into that otherworldly register.
"Yes… this is the era. The 5 Weapons, the 3 Primordial Beings, and the 7 Brides have all reincarnated. My memories are not fully restored yet. That is why I waver. But I know my purpose. I must help you. I must help Mirel, and you, Cretel."
Then she fainted once more, as if the truth was too heavy for her body to carry.
When she woke the third time, the red was gone. Her gaze was clear, and the fear had burned away, leaving only quiet resolve.
"I know I must help you," Nefilina said softly. "Whatever it takes."
Cretel said nothing aloud. But inside my mind, her voice slid in like a blade of ice.
The task is complete. I am returning control to you.
The golden marks that had crawled across my skin flickered and faded. The strength that wasn't mine drained away, and suddenly my limbs were my own again — heavy, clumsy, human. The world tipped and swam before steadying.
I looked at Nefilina where she sat on the moss. Then at the trees, tall and silent, watching.
The weight of what I'd just seen — Cretel's power, absolute and merciless — pressed down on my shoulders like stone.
The game was far from over.
And the pieces were moving faster than I could have imagined.
To be continued...