The temple loomed behind them like the spine of a god, ribs shattered, stone half-swallowed by time. Wind whipped Kael’s hair as she stepped forward, one hand on her blade, the other clutching the pulsing compass.

The stranger raised his storm-forged sword. Lightning coiled down his arm like a living thing.

“This stone must awaken through conflict,” he said. “As all truth does.”

Kael narrowed her eyes. “Then you’re not my enemy — just my gate.”

The ground between them cracked.

He moved first.

Faster than thought, a streak of silver and blue, his blade arcing in a flash. Kael barely dodged, rolling to the side, her boots scraping against wet stone. Her dagger hissed free, singing through the air as she slashed — but met only sparks as steel clashed against stormlight.

The temple reacted.

Runes lit up across its base, flickering with each strike. Every blow echoed with more than sound — it stirred memory. Emotion. Echoes. Kael felt them surge through her: grief, betrayal, longing — hers and not hers. Generations of Stonebearers watching through unseen eyes.

“You fight well,” the stranger said between strikes. “But will, alone, does not awaken the sky.”

Kael gritted her teeth. “I don’t fight with will alone.”

And she didn’t.

She fought with Mira’s voice in her mind. With her mother’s name never spoken. With the memory of the ash-covered forest. With the pull of something far bigger than herself.

The compass in her belt flared. The runes on her palm shimmered. She dropped low, dodging another strike, and swept her dagger upward — carving a glowing arc through the air.

Her blade struck his chest.

Not deep — but enough.

He staggered back.

Lightning crackled around him wildly, but his sword dipped. He knelt, placing the tip into the earth.

“You are ready,” he said, breathless.

Kael’s shoulders rose and fell with exhaustion, but she held her stance. “Then why fight me?”

“Because the stone needed to see your resolve. And I… needed to remember mine.”

He stood slowly and turned toward the temple.

“Come.”

At the center of the shattered chamber, the third stone waited — jagged, shaped like a shard torn from a larger whole. Unlike the previous two, this one pulsed with chaotic energy. Storms whispered around it in circles.

Kael approached.

The moment her fingers touched its surface, a wave of sound and light roared through the isle. A vision hit her like a tidal wave:

A girl with silver eyes weeping over a shattered bridge.
A floating city consumed by flame.
The same name again: Thirien. Whispered now in grief.

The mark on her palm shimmered with a new ring.

The storm outside calmed.

The stranger turned, lowering his hood. His face was young — younger than Kael expected — but ancient sorrow pooled in his gaze.

“My name is Riven. I was the Keeper of this stone.”

“Was?” Kael asked.

“It’s yours now.”

“Will you come with me?”

Riven paused. Then slowly nodded. “Until the end.”

Outside, the serpent of wind awaited, coiling patiently as the compass pointed toward a darker horizon.

Only three stones remained.

But now, Kael was no longer alone.