They buried Seren at the base of the ridge, in a shallow grave marked with stones. Kaelen said the words again, because there was no one else to say them, and because she had deserved better than to die alone in the dark with something else wearing her face.
They walked in silence after that. There was nothing to say. Seren had been their guide, their scholar, the only one who knew what waited in the North. Without her, they were walking blind.
"She knew," Elyss said, on the evening of the tenth day. They were camped in the ruins of a farmhouse, its roof long since collapsed, its walls scarred by claws. "She knew what was inside her. She knew it would take her eventually."
Kaelen nodded. He was sitting against the wall, his sword across his knees, his eyes on the darkness beyond the broken door.
"That's why she came," he said. "Not to guide us. To make sure we saw what happened. To show us what the door does to those who touch it."
Toren, who had been silent since the ridge, looked up. His face was haggard, his eyes red-rimmed. "Then why are we still going north? If that's what waits for us—"
"Because if we don't, it waits for everyone." Kaelen's voice was flat, emotionless. "The door is opening. Every day it opens wider. And when it opens all the way, there won't be a north or a south. There won't be a Valerion. There won't be anything but the dark."
He looked at Toren, at the fear in his friend's eyes.
"I'm not asking you to come with me. I'm not asking either of you. You can go back. Marok's trail is still fresh. You can catch him before he reaches the border."
Toren shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."
"Toren—"
"I said I'm not leaving." His voice was hard, final. "Whatever happens up there, I'm with you. Until the end."
Kaelen looked at Elyss. She met his gaze, and there was no fear in her eyes. Only the same stubborn determination that had brought her this far.
"I'm not leaving either," she said. "I want to see it. The door. The thing that killed the sun. I want to see it with my own eyes."
"It will kill you."
"Maybe." She smiled. It was a thin smile, fragile, but real. "But at least I'll know. I'll know what we've been fighting. What we've been praying to. And when I die, I'll die with my eyes open."
Kaelen looked at them—Toren, who had followed him for six years, who had believed in him when no one else did. Elyss, who had come looking for truth and found only darkness, and had kept walking anyway.
He had tried to protect them. He had tried to send them back. But they were here, and they would not leave, and he was too tired to argue.
"Then we go north," he said. "And we see this through."
N/T: if you enjoy reading, support me with a power stone, thank you sir.