Page 145 of Shadowvein

Her brow furrows. “You put your power in a ring? Like—” She shakes her head, a small smile touching her lips. “Never mind. That's from my world.”

“It's an old method, practiced by the Veinbloods before the Authority began hunting us.” The admission comes more easily than I expected. “Certain objects can anchor power, shielding it fromdiscovery, and preserve it against attempts to neutralize or destroy it. Without that precaution, I would have died at Thornreave.”

“And with the ring, you'll be … what? Stronger?” Her eyes search mine, the silver brightening around her irises.

“No.” I hold her gaze. “Complete.”

She's quiet for a moment, processing this new information. Her fingers trace the embroidered Authority sigil on the uniform's collar, a motion that makes my skin crawl. Finally, she asks the question I knew would come.

“What does that mean for me? For getting home?”

The question I expected. The answer, I still don't have.

“Your connection to this world's magic is growing,” I say carefully. “Understanding it—why it formed, why it's holding—remains our best hope for determining how you might return home.”

“If I still can.” Her voice is soft, sad. She looks down at her hands, turning them palm-up as if searching for answers written there. “Sometimes I feel like I'm becoming something else entirely.”

I stay silent. I won't offer false hope where none exists. There is a possibility that her arrival was a one-way trip. That she is no longer fully of the world she left behind. And the silver in her eyes grows stronger every day.

She turns away, the light catching the rings of brightness, reminding me of the lines from the prophecy.

Where shadow leads, storm will follow.

“How dangerous is it going to be?” She faces me again, arms crossed. “And please, don't say 'significant risk' or any other sanitized description.”

I incline my head, respecting her desire for honesty. “Ashenvale has the highest concentration of Authority forces in Meridian. If we're caught, we die.” I pause. “My death would be slow. Public.”

“Fantastic.” She rubs a hand over her face, a gesture I've come to recognize as her bracing herself, gathering the remnants of her courage. “Sounds like a great time. When did you say we're leaving?”

“Before dawn.” I find myself wanting to offer reassurance, an unfamiliar urge. “We'll take the mountain paths, and avoid the main checkpoints. I know these routes better than anyone. My familiar will warn us of patrols.”

“What if we get separated?” Her fingers worry at the hem of her tunic. “What if something happens to you?”

“There are contingencies for that.” My voice softens slightly. “Varam knows to bring you back here if we're separated.”

“Of course there are.” The ghost of a smile touches her lips, the first genuine one I've seen in days. “The infamous strategist, always thinking ten steps ahead.”

Something in her tone catches me off guard. Not mockery. Not reluctant admiration. Acceptance. Understanding. As if she sees the weight of the constant calculations and doesn't judge me for them.

“Dawn comes early.” I walk toward my private room, needing distance from what her acceptance does to my control. “Eat, and sleep while you can.”

She nods, and turns toward her own room, then stops, one hand on the doorframe.

“Sacha?”

“Yes?” I pause, not turning fully.

“Whatever happens next, I just wanted to say … thank you.” Her voice has a quality that makes the shadows still. “For not treating me like I'm completely helpless in this world.”

The quiet honesty in her tone catches me off guard, more effective at penetrating my defenses than any argument or accusation could. No one has ever thanked me for anything I’ve done. Gratitude is not a currency I know how to accept. I’m built for resistance, for survival, not for acknowledgement. And yet, for a single breath, it loosens something inside me.

“You’re not helpless, Mel’shira.” My voice is soft. “You never have been.”

Her gaze flickers, something shifting behind it—a flash of silver that seems to respond to my words. Then she nods once and slips into her room, the door clicking shut behind her.

I stand there for a moment longer, staring at her closed door, feeling the weight of her words settle in places I thought long dead.

Tomorrow we will travel to Ashenvale, the heart of Authority control. I will reclaim the final part of my power, the piece that was torn from me at Thornreave Pass. And then we can begin the next phase of taking back what we lost. What was stolen from all of us.

---