Adam's feet pounded against cobblestones as he raced through streets that had grown strange in his absence. Evelyn's face, pale with shock, eyes wide with horror, burned in his memory. She had run back toward the palace, toward whatever danger awaited there, and every second he'd hesitated felt like a betrayal.
I should have followed her immediately, he thought, dodging between market stalls. I should have,
The impact came from nowhere.
One moment he was weaving through the crowd, the next he was sprawled on the ground, an elderly woman beside him clutching a walking stick and muttering apologies. She had appeared as if from thin air, stepping directly into his path.
"Oh dear, oh dear," she wheezed, her back curved with age. "So sorry, young man. These old bones don't move like they used to."
Adam scrambled to his feet, offering her his hand. "I'm, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"
The old woman accepted his help with surprising strength, her grip firm despite her frail appearance. As she steadied herself, her cloudy eyes fixed on the distance behind him. "That terrible noise from before... what was that, child? Sounded like thunder, but the sky is clear."
"An explosion," Adam said, already shifting his weight to continue running. "I'm sorry, but I really need to, "
"Wait." Her voice carried unexpected authority. "Please. You helped me, the least I can do is repay the kindness. My tent is just here." She gestured to a modest merchant's stall nearby, its fabric walls decorated with intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the light.
"I'm really in a hurry, "
"Please." Her grip on his arm tightened. "It will only take a moment. Destiny has a way of demanding its due, doesn't it?"
Something in her tone made him pause. Against his better judgment, he followed her to the tent, expecting to see wares displayed within, fabrics, perhaps, or trinkets for trade. Instead, the interior was nearly empty save for a small table and two chairs.
From inside the box on top of the table, the old woman took a ring. It was ancient, clearly, the metal worn smooth by countless hands, with a design that spoke of craftsmanship from an era long past. A small stone at its center caught the filtered light and seemed to hold it.
"Take this," she said, extending it toward him.
Adam stared. "I can't accept that. We just met, and there's no reason for you to, "
"The constellations that guide my destiny wished it so," she said. "It was meant to be given."
The word 'constellations' sent a jolt through him.
"What do you mean by constellations?" he asked, but even as the words left his mouth, he was glancing toward the tent's entrance. Evelyn was in danger. Every moment he delayed...
The old woman smiled, and for just an instant, her cloudy eyes seemed to clear completely. "Some answers come in their own time, child."
Adam took the ring, slipping it into his pocket beside the sealed book. "I have to go, but I'll come back. I promise. Just... wait for me? I need to understand, "
"We are always waiting," she said. "We have always been." Her voice carrying peace and wisdom.
He burst from the tent and ran, questions spinning through his mind like autumn leaves. Who was she? What did she mean about constellations? Is it related to… And that ring, why did it feel warm against his hand?
After a dozen steps, some instinct made him glance back.
The old woman stood beside her tent, watching his retreat. But she stood straight-backed and tall, her walking stick held casually at her side rather than supporting her weight. For a heartbeat, their eyes met across the distance, and he could have sworn she nodded.
Then the crowd shifted, and his focus went back to the road ahead of him. There was no time to process what he'd seen. Evelyn needed him.
He ran harder, the city blurring around him. The familiar sounds of commerce and conversation gradually gave way to something else, tension, whispered conversations, the measured tread of boots on stone.
", so many of them," a passenger was saying to his neighbor as Adam passed. "The bishops' men everywhere. Haven't seen mobilization like this since the border conflicts."
The bishops. Relief flooded through Adam's chest. Of course. Queen Athena had summoned them to help deal with the crisis. That explained the increased military presence, the sense of urgency in the streets. They had come to protect the Queen, to help plan for whatever was coming from Utopia.
But as he drew closer to the palace district, that relief began to curdle.
The checkpoints were wrong. Guards in unfamiliar colors questioned citizens. Market vendors packed their stalls early, casting nervous glances at patrols that moved. The easy contentment that usually characterized the City of Light had been replaced by something brittle and watchful.
"Move along," a guard barked at a group of children who'd stopped to stare at the soldiers.
Adam slowed his pace, suddenly aware that his desperate sprint might draw unwanted attention. He ducked his head and tried to blend with the crowd, but his pulse hammered against his ribs. Why do the guards seem so... aggressive?
The palace came into view as he crested the hill. For a moment, seeing it whole and beautiful, he allowed himself to believe that everything would be alright.
Then it exploded.
The blast erupted from the palace's eastern wing, flame and smoke that painted the sky orange and black. Windows shattered in a cascade of glittering rain. The sound hit him like a brutal reminder of the urgency, and he watched in horror as debris scattered across the courtyard.
No. The word formed silently as he broke into a full sprint, no longer caring who might notice. No, no, no,
"What in the saints' names, " someone shouted behind him.
"The palace! Something's happened to the palace!"
But Adam was already running, his legs pumping as fear gave him wings. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his thigh, and questions he couldn't voice clawed at his throat. Was that where the Queen held court? Was that where Evelyn went?
As he got closer, the activity around the palace became frantic. Soldiers movements were sharp. Servants fled through side entrances, their faces white with terror. And everywhere, the bishops' colors, banners and livery that should have meant salvation but now felt wrong, invasive.
The bishops... did they...?
The thought was too terrible to complete. But the evidence mounted with every step, the explosion's timing, the soldiers' aggressive efficiency, the way the palace itself seemed under siege rather than under protection.
He reached the outer courtyard just as a massive cart rolled through the gates, reinforced with wood and iron, flanked by armed riders whose faces were hidden behind polished helms. The sight of it sent ice through his veins.
Then he saw her. She was just getting outside of the palace doors, about ten meters between her and the cart.
Evelyn walked toward the cart, slowly. Her head was bowed, her shoulders curved inward as if she were trying to disappear into herself. The bright spirit that had always defined her, the quick wit, the infectious laughter, the way she could light up any room simply by entering it, had been extinguished, leaving behind something hollow.
Beside her walked a man Adam recognized from formal portraits, Malthane, one of the bishops. Evelyn's father. But there was something wrong with the scene.
She is a captive, he realized.
He was still too far away to call out, hidden behind a cluster of agitated civilians in the chaos. But as he watched, gathering himself to run to her, something made Evelyn lift her head.
She turned as if sensing his presence, her eyes scanning the crowd with desperate precision. When their gazes met across the courtyard, her entire body went rigid.
For one heartbeat, her face blazed with surprise and something that might have been hope. He had come. Despite everything, despite the danger and the irrationality of it, Adam had come for her just as she'd always known he would.
But then her expression shifted, and Adam saw something in her eyes that made his blood turn to cold. It wasn't relief or gratitude or even fear. It was a darkness so profound it seemed to swallow light; a change so fundamental that she looked like a stranger wearing Evelyn's face.
What happened to her? What did they do?
She raised one hand slowly, deliberately, her fingers forming a shape against her chest, a gesture so subtle that anyone else might have missed it entirely. But Adam had grown up with Evelyn. He knew her secret languages, the signs they'd developed during endless childhood games.
His throat closed as understanding crashed over him.
The sign meant we will meet again.
It was what they'd used during hide-and-seek when one of them was caught but the game wasn't over. What they'd whispered when illness separated them or when palace duties called Evelyn away for longer than usual. It meant: This isn't goodbye. This isn't the end. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes, we'll find each other again.
But now, seeing it formed by her trembling fingers while soldiers surrounded her and smoke rose from her home, the gesture carried weight that made his chest ache. She was telling him not to come. Not to try to save her. Not to throw his life away on a rescue that would only deliver them both to their enemies.
She's protecting me, he realized.
Adam took a step forward anyway, his body rejecting what his mind understood. He couldn't leave her. He couldn't watch her disappear into that cart and do nothing.
But Evelyn saw his movement and shook her head, just once, barely perceptible.
The apple, Adam thought desperately. I'm the one they want. I should,
The cart lurched into motion. Malthane placed a hand on Evelyn's shoulder, whether in comfort or control, Adam couldn't tell, and guided her toward the vehicle's iron-reinforced door. She climbed in without resistance, moving like someone who had given up on everything.
For just a moment, before the door closed, she looked back one final time. Her expression changed, she smiled at him. He smiled back, a forced smile, a sad smile.
The cart rolled away, carrying with it the last of his childhood and the first of his nightmares. Around him, the City of Light buzzed with confusion and fear, but Adam heard none of it. He stood frozen, watching until the cart disappeared in the distance, taking Evelyn into whatever darkness awaited.
In his pocket, the mysterious ring and the sealed book pressed against his ribs, heavy with unknown answers. And somewhere in his chest, beneath the pain and terror and overwhelming sense of loss, a new resolve began to take shape.
We will meet again, he whispered to the empty air, making it both prayer and promise. Whatever it takes. Looking at the sky as if seeking answers written there.
But first, he had to survive long enough to keep that vow. First, he needed to reunite with Noah and Zoe, they should look for Kaiser together, he hadn't found the time to even open the book yet and its contents were a mystery yet to be unraveled.
Adam turned away from the palace and began to walk, carrying hope and heartbreak in equal measure.
But at least now he had a reason to moveforward, a promise to keep.