The night sky stretched endlessly over the hidden camp, a tapestry of stars glittering like scattered diamonds against the velvet black. The quiet was a fragile thing, shattered only by the crackling of the fire and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. But beneath the calm surface, currents of tension churned like an unseen storm.
Sarive sat beside the fire, the flickering flames casting sharp shadows across his face. He stared at Hope, who was curled up beside Mia, her glowing blue eyes fluttering closed with the exhaustion of the day's battle. The child's presence filled the clearing with a fragile warmth—an ember of hope in a world slipping toward chaos.
Mia approached, her silhouette graceful in the firelight. She settled beside Sarive, her voice low but firm.
"You don't have to pretend you don't know," she said. "Valen is alive. And Hope is his daughter."
Sarive's jaw clenched. "I know. Mia told me."
Mia's eyes softened. "Then why did you hold back? Why pretend when we finally met?"
Sarive looked away, the weight of years pressing down on him. "Because I wasn't sure what I felt. Anger… betrayal… confusion. He left us. He left me."
Mia nodded. "And now?"
"Now…" Sarive's voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't know. But I need to understand. For Hope's sake."
Mia placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone in this. We're a team. And soon, you'll meet Chris—your father's old friend. He's been fighting his own battles."
Sarive's eyes narrowed, curiosity flickering in their silver depths. "Chris?"
Mia smiled faintly. "He's… complicated. But loyal."
The fire crackled, a brief silence falling between them as the weight of their shared destiny settled.
Suddenly, a rustle from the shadows caught their attention. Sarive instinctively rose, muscles coiled like a panther ready to pounce. Mia's hand dropped to the weapon at her side.
From the darkness stepped a figure—tall, cloaked, his features obscured but familiar. Hope stirred, sensing the presence, and opened her eyes wide.
"It's me," the figure said softly, lowering his hood. "Chris."
Sarive's breath caught.
The reunion was bittersweet—marked by years of silence and unspoken grievances. But in that moment, the fractured pieces of a broken family began to shift toward something whole.
As the night deepened, plans were whispered beneath the stars. The Pantheon's hunters drew closer, their shadow stretching over every realm. The war for Hope's soul was no longer a distant threat. It was here.
And the Ascendants would stand to fight.