That night, sleep came in restless waves. I drifted in and out, tangled in sheets and memories, until the world around me faded and the dream took hold. I stood in the cavern beneath Ebony Waterfall, the air thick with mist and the sharp tang of magic. The stone glowed faintly, pulsing with a golden light, each flicker syncing with the frantic rhythm of my heart. The being inside was motionless, just as I’d last seen her—yet something felt terribly wrong. A soft pounding echoed through the chamber. I crept closer, pressing my ear to the stone. Pound… Pound… Pound. A heartbeat. My blood ran cold. That shouldn’t be possible. I stumbled back, breath catching in my throat. Suddenly, thin cracks spiderwebbed across the surface. The being’s eyes snapped open—brilliant gold, ancient and haunted, heavy with a sorrow I couldn’t begin to fathom. Her lips parted, and a dark tide of golden blood and sand spilled onto the cavern floor. Shock rooted me to the spot as a shrill ringing filled my skull. She spoke, but her mouth barely moved; her words echoed inside my mind, cold and clear: “I am awakening, hero. And when I do… Vildora will drown in golden blood—the blood of every god or goddess who stands in my way. Beginning… with you.” The stone split wide, and the being lunged forward— I jolted upright in bed, a scream clawing at my throat. My hair stuck to my forehead, damp with sweat, my blue nightdress twisted and clinging to my skin. For a moment, I could still feel the weight of her gaze, the promise of violence in that golden stare. It was just a dream. A nightmare. But it didn’t feel like only a nightmare—it felt like a warning.
I finally reached Ebony Waterfall, lungs burning and feet slipping on the mossy stones. The air was thick with mist and moonlight, the roar of water behind me like the pulse of a living thing. I slid into the cove, every sense stretched thin, searching the shadows for the impossible heartbeat I’d heard in my dream. There—it was, low and steady, thrumming through the cavern floor, echoing in my chest. My hands shook as I drew the dagger from my belt—Ying’s dagger, the weight of it both comfort and reminder. I wasn’t sure if I could use it, or if it would even matter. The being in the stone looked just as she had before. Still. Beautiful. Terrible. For a moment, I wondered if I’d imagined everything—the dream, the warning, the pounding in my ears. I took a shaky step forward, peering at her face, searching for any sign of change. And then it happened. A crack, sharp and violent, split the silence. The sound reverberated through the cavern, making me flinch. My eyes darted to the stone—new fractures raced across its surface, glowing faintly gold. The heartbeat quickened, faster and louder, shaking dust from the ceiling. I staggered back, raising the dagger in trembling hands. “Stay back,” I whispered, though it sounded pitiful, even to me. The stone exploded outward in a shower of shards. Before I could even scream, a cold, impossibly strong hand clamped around my wrist, wrenching the dagger from my fingers. I tumbled to the ground, the air knocked from my lungs, rough rock scraping my palms and knees. She stood over me, free of her prison at last. Up close, she was even more terrifying—taller than I’d realized, her marble-black skin veined with molten gold, the streaks on her cheeks gleaming like rivers of sunlight. Her eyes were pure gold, bottomless and ancient, and they bore into me with a hunger that was almost inhuman. She pressed the dagger to my throat. I gasped at the sudden sting—a thin line of warmth trickled down my neck, gold blood gleaming against my skin. “Where… where is that little wretch?” Her voice was ragged, hoarse from centuries of silence but strong enough to rattle the stone walls. “Where is the so-called ‘god of music’? Where are Life and Death, those cowards who locked me away?” She paused, breath heaving, and then her lips twisted into a feral, knowing smile as she leaned in, close enough that I could smell the metallic tang of magic and old stone on her breath. “Well, well… if it isn’t the future queen herself.” Her gaze flicked over me, appraising, almost amused. “You look smaller than I imagined. Not so mighty, are you, little goddess?” She pressed the dagger harder, and more blood welled from the cut, hot and slick. I bit back a cry, trying to find my voice. “How—how do you know—” She silenced me with a swift, vicious kick to my ribs. I doubled over, pain flaring white-hot through my side. “Just because I was trapped in stone doesn’t mean I couldn’t hear you,” Forá hissed, her voice curling around my thoughts like smoke. “I heard everything. You awakened me, hero. And I intend to finish what I started.” She yanked me upright by the collar, dragging me toward the shattered remnants of her prison. With a sneer, she wiped my blood from the blade and smeared it across the surface of the broken dimorson. The stone shimmered, the air twisting and warping until a dark, spiraling portal tore open in the heart of the cavern—a wound in the world itself. Forá’s golden gaze bored into mine, cold and triumphant. “And you won’t be there to stop me,” she said, her voice low and certain. “Not this time.” I tried to twist free, tried to scream for Ying, for Yang, for anyone—but Forá was too strong. She hurled me into the portal without a second glance. My world spun, the roar of the waterfall fading into nothing as darkness closed around me, suffocating and absolute. I fell and fell, tumbling through cold, endless black. My mind reached for anything—light, hope, a memory of safety—but found only emptiness. My scream was swallowed whole, leaving only silence. And then— Everything stopped.
