Alex could not take his eyes off the Shard-Maiden.

  Her resemblance to the girl from his dream, the one who had pulled him onto the rooftop to gaze at three celestial body sky… was striking. The memory was etched into his mind, clear as summer.

  The only difference was the color.

  Where his dream girl’s hair had been a cascade of lavender, the Shard-Maiden’s was a flow of snow-white. Her eyes, instead of a piercing purple, held a softer, paler lavender hue. But the gentle slope of her nose, the shape of her lips… it was her.

  ‘How is this possible?’

  His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt a sudden, irrational urge to run to her, to embrace her, to protect her. Yet he remained rooted to the spot. Alex wasn't one to act on impulse. He bottled things up. That was his nature.

  With the grace of a born leader, the Shard-Maiden walked toward the central seat, a high-backed chair of intricate, commanding design. A heavy silence fell over the grand hall. Every eye was fixed on her.

  But her gaze never wavered from Alex.

  He was held captive. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Her pale lavender eyes exerted a physical pull, a silent question and a forgotten promise all at once.

  The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, she spoke. Her voice wasn't loud, yet it carried to every corner of the hall.

  “Alex Dawson… My name is Elenora.” Her gaze softened, and a warm smile graced her lips.

  “...I am glad you made it.”

  “Elenora….” Alex whispered the name.

  A collective hiss of surprise swept through the hall.

  Heads shifted from Lady Elenora to Alex and back again. Lord Commander Valerius’s stern face was a mask of pure confusion. Roric, who had returned to his wall leaning, stood straight, his sharp eyes darting between them, his mind visibly racing to solve this new equation. Across the table, General Kordin’s jaw tightened with suspicion, while Lady Ana’s expression sharpened into intense curiosity.

  Before anyone could speak, Elenora raised a slender hand. She finally released Alex from her gaze to sweep over the assembled council.

  “I know you all have questions,” she said, her voice gaining a formal resonance. “They will be answered. But his survival is not a mystery.”

  Alex’s mind reeled. Fear and hope collided in his chest. Part of him hoped she recognized him, that the dream on the cliff had been real. But the dread at the back of his mind persisted.

  ‘This is just a dream, Alex.’

  The thought shattered his hope. Dreams weren't real. He would wake up any moment, and this longing would just be another phantom pain.

  He sighed, managing to look away from her and stared at his trembling hands resting in his lap.

  ‘Just a dream. Just a dream.’

  “Isn’t that right, Alex?”

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  Her voice snapped him back. All eyes were on him, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

  “Uh… sorry, what?” Alex blinked.

  “He's not even paying attention. How could his survival not be a mystery?” Valerius mumbled, his voice low and dangerous.

  Elenora smiled, her gaze softening. “But he did survive. And it is not a mystery.”

  “The Commander has a point,” Lady Ana interjected, her voice smooth but sharp. “Sure, there are unseen forces like luck. But we all know from past experience with… Jayson… that there is usually more to it than meets the eye.”

  “I have to agree,” General Kordin added. “Surviving that battlefield is not just luck. It was a massacre. Five thousand men lost. Yet he alone remains.”

  Roric stepped forward, his casual demeanor gone. “If I might interrupt… it's not like he walked away unscathed. The boy was at death's door when we found him. Besides, we brought him here not to question how he survived, but to ask what he saw.”

  Roric’s gaze drifted to Valerius. “For any sighting of… you know who.”

  Valerius shifted in his seat. For a moment, the grand hall fell silent, each member lost in dark thoughts. Even Elenora’s expression dimmed.

  Alex didn’t understand what they meant, but he knew better than to ask. He retreated to his safe space. Observation.

  “Let’s not discuss that yet,” Elenora said firmly. “Alex, tell me what you remember.”

  “Uh… well…” Alex stuttered.

  He took a breath and began to explain. His words came out scattered at first, jumping from the black mist to the creatures devouring souls. He described the undead rising to feed on the living. He paused, folding his hands as he recalled the moment the tendrils had crushed him, and finally, the blinding light that had saved him.

  The rest was a blur.

  “That’s all I can remember about the soul-eaters,” Alex concluded. He stared at the council. Their expressions were unreadable.

  “It appears the Gloom’s numbers exceed our predictions,” Elenora said, staring at her folded arms. “All those men. Farmers. Families. Destroyed.”

  “According to the report,” General Kordin began, “of five thousand men, three thousand bodies were identified. Nearly half were drained of their souls.”

  “Wait. Three thousand?” Lady Ana asked. “That leaves two thousand unaccounted for.”

  “Most likely transformed into Gloom,” Kordin said grimly. “The scouts found no trace of them.”

  Tsk. Roric clicked his tongue. “The Gloom army keeps expanding.”

  “What else do you remember, boy?” Valerius demanded, his gaze fixed on Alex.

  Alex opened his mouth but found no words. The memories were there, but they were shrouded in terror. Before he could struggle through an answer, Elenora’s voice cut through the air. Soft, yet absolute.

  “That is enough.”

  She stood up, and the room seemed to stand still with her. Her pale lavender eyes found Alex’s again, holding a faint glimmer of warmth.

  “You have given them what they asked for, a report from the field. But they are asking the wrong questions. They seek numbers and tactics when they should be seeking a solution.”

  She looked around the table. “The Gloom does not just exceed our predictions. It evolves. It learns. And it is drawn to a wound in this world… a wound that weeps, giving it strength.”

  She turned her full attention back to Alex.

  “You have questions, don’t you? The time for observation is over. Take him to the Sunken Archives.” She turned to Roric. “I believe he is in your good hands. Take care of him.”

  “My Lady, you can’t possibly mean…” Valerius started.

  “I shall meet with him there,” she interrupted, leaving no room for argument.

  “Understood, My Lady,” Roric replied with a bow. “I'll see to it that he arrives in one piece.”

  “Well, I must be on my way. Alex, do take care.” With that, the Shard-Maiden walked out in silence, ascending the stairs behind the door.

  Roric tapped Alex on the shoulder, a knowing smirk gracing his lips.

  “Shall we?”