Chapter 147: She is the Key
Midnight Truths
The sun-keepers stood in a circle around the sanctum, their gold-threaded robes glittering faintly in the pale light of a hundred floating lanterns. The chamber smelled of frankincense and ash, of ancient oil and blood memory. The midnight air was heavy with reverence.
Above them, the ceiling of the Hall of Veils had been pulled back with magic—revealing a slice of the black sky streaked with dying stars. Moonlight spilled into the center of the room like a silver altar.
At the heart of it, barefoot and cloaked in ceremonial white, stood Shina.
The veil was open.
The energy thrummed low and slow, like a beast inhaling. The runes on the floor shimmered softly. Candles danced without wind. And all around them, the world held its breath.
A voice from the edge of the circle spoke. “The realm of the dead listens, Priestess. Speak now.”
Shina raised her chin, her voice steady, though her bones trembled from exhaustion and revelation.
“I seek the spirit of Mireya of the Light, Keeper of Fire and First Priestess of the Silver Flame. Daughter of Elarin. Mother to me.”
A pulse rippled across the floor, sending a shudder through the bones of the room. The lanterns flickered. One shattered. The air snapped cold.
The veil split—just enough.
And from the breach stepped a shape of smoke and light and sorrow.
Her mother.
Mireya looked as she did in memory—barefoot and tall, her hair like silver fire, her eyes the pale lavender of dusk. But there was no warmth to her now. Only wisdom. Only the echo of love carried on the wind.
“Child,” she said, her voice like soft bells clashing far away. “You shouldn’t have called me.”
“I had no choice,” Shina whispered, throat tightening. “Everything we built… it’s unraveling.”
Mireya moved closer, though her feet didn’t touch the floor. “The King. He fades.”
Shina nodded once. “He’s not just fading—he’s consuming. The shadows eat him, and through our bond… they are eating me too.”
There was a pause. The veil groaned.
“We tied my light to his,” Shina said hoarsely, “but it’s not working anymore. I thought I could balance him. Save him. Anchor him until his light frees him at last.” Her voice cracked. “But I’ve only slowed it. I haven’t saved anything. I’m falling with him.”
Mireya’s eyes softened, but her tone remained unflinching. “That’s because it was never your burden to carry. You’re only doing that which you were meant to do. To slow the shadows.”
Shina blinked.
Her mother stepped closer. “The King’s curse can only be broken by his fated one. The mate born of prophecy. The soul chosen by the wild magic of the Moon. Not the priestess. Not your light. Her.”
Shina’s breath caught. “His… mate?”
“Yes.” Mireya’s form shimmered as she spoke. “Only she can banish the shadows completely. Only through her blood will the light and the king find peace. You were the bridge. Not the cure.”
Shina stared at her, the room spinning faintly.
“Isn’t that what you’ve always said? You told me this a long time ago, mother,” she whispered. “But the girl is still missing. And we are running out of time. Didn’t you say Dina would win unless… unless she appeared?”
Mireya’s voice turned grave. “And with every delay, Dina’s darkness spreads deeper.”
Shina’s throat tightened. “Then we’ve already failed. She has won. I can’t destroy her, nor can I undo what she has done.”
“Yes,” Mireya said sharply. “You can’t. Because it’s not your fight. Her ruin will not come from strength. It will not come from royalty, or prophecy, or light. It will come from where she least expects it.”
A pause. Mireya’s eyes glowed silver.
“From the hands of a wolfless girl.”
Silence.
Then—
“The one the wolves cast aside. The one without a scent. The one who does not kneel.”
Silence.
“Mother… is she even alive?”
Shina’s voice cracked as she stepped closer to the ghostly form. “Where is she? I tried looking into the Mirror of Truth, but… it was clouded. Like something—someone—was hiding her.”
Mireya’s eyes shimmered, ancient sorrow etched in every flicker of her spectral form.
“She lives.”
The answer was quiet. Certain.
“And she is closer than you think.”
Shina’s breath hitched. “Then why can’t I find her?”
“Because she’s hidden—even from herself.”
A pause. Then her mother’s voice darkened, turning sharp as a blade:
“You must find her before the next full moon.”
The candles around them flickered violently, and the chamber trembled with a low, guttural warning.
“If you fail…” Mireya’s voice dropped to a whisper, full of warning and fate.
“Everything you love—everything we’ve protected—will fall. She is the key. To the King. To the Gate. To all of it.”
Shina stared, her heart pounding like war drums in her chest.
A chill traced down Shina’s spine. “You’re saying the king’s mate is—”
“Yes.” Mireya’s voice was fierce now. “And until she is found, you and the king are doomed. The shadows will keep feeding. The bond will keep draining. And the gate will break.”
Shina’s hands clenched at her sides. “Then we have no choice.”
The room began to tremble. The veil pulsed.
“We have to find her,” Shina whispered. “The girl. The mate. Before the king loses himself completely… before I’m lost too.”
Mireya began to fade, her voice thinning into the wind. “Then move fast, daughter of light. Because even now… the gate cracks.”
Lightning flickered above them. The ground lurched.
And then—
The séance ended.
The veil sealed shut with a snap like thunder. The circle broke. Candles extinguished all at once. Silence returned.
Shina stood alone in the flickering dark, chest heaving, sweat running down her spine.
She turned and walked out of the chamber, her steps slow and deliberate.
Outside, Ethan was pacing like a caged beast, hands tangled in his hair, eyes wild.
He ran to her the second she stumbled through the threshold.
“Shina! Did you—did she tell you? Is there a way? Can the King still be saved?”
Shina didn’t answer.
Her legs buckled.
Ethan caught her just before she collapsed, cradling her with a panicked grip.
Her voice was a rasp of steel as her eyes rolled back.
“Begin the search again,” she whispered.
He froze.
She gripped his collar with the last of her strength, her words slicing the air like a blade:
“Find the King’s mate.”
Then she slumped against him, unconscious.