The stars blinked overhead, quiet witnesses to the warmth shared between Aria and her mother in the soft garden light. But peace, like the twilight, was always fleeting.
The next morning, Aria woke early to the gentle sound of leaves rustling outside her window. She blinked at the soft golden light pouring through the curtains, a reminder that the world had changed—not just for her, but for everyone. She dressed in her new ceremonial robes: sleek white threaded with silver accents and the mark of the Seekers of Balance embroidered near her collarbone. The Lumina Shard rested securely in its pendant, quiet against her chest. But she could feel it pulse.
Something was stirring.
As she exited her cottage, she was greeted by Kael, already dressed in his dark navy warrior garb, arm bracers gleaming and hair slightly messy from his morning training with Sorin.
"Council summoned us early," Kael said, falling into step beside her. "They didn't say why."
"It's about the Shard," Aria replied, touching the pendant briefly. "I can feel it. Something isn't right."
They walked together through the village, nodding to familiar faces. Children played with enchanted toys gifted from the capital. Scholars moved through the central square with scrolls tucked under their arms. Rebuilding had brought life back to the world, but beneath it all, a murmur of unrest pulsed like a slow-beating drum.
When they reached the council hall, the others were already gathered.
Finn leaned against the window, exchanging playful banter with Quinn, who had his hand resting lightly on Lyric's back. Lyric, now officially leading diplomatic research under Aldric's mentorship, offered a small smile as Aria and Kael entered.
"Morning, Seeker," Lyric greeted. "You're late."
"Barely," Kael muttered.
Celeste, Sirius, Sorin, Elyra, Adric, and several representatives from the outer factions stood at the main table. The room hushed as Aria stepped forward.
Celeste nodded to her. "Let's begin."
Sirius stepped forward first. "We received word from the Northern Coalition. They're requesting a transfer of the Lumina Shard to their vaults for safekeeping."
Aria froze. "They what?"
"They claim it's too dangerous to be left under one person's care—even yours," Adric added with a frown. "They want to protect it from future threats."
"Or control it," Quinn muttered.
Celeste's eyes darkened. "They don't understand what it is. The Shard is not just a weapon. It's alive."
"And it chose Aria," Elyra said, her voice stern.
Still, murmurs broke out among the gathered representatives.
Lyric cleared her throat. "It's not just the North. The Eastern Clans are suggesting the Shard be placed in neutral territory. A floating archive over the Vale."
"They mean to divide us," Kael growled. "They want the Shard so no one else can have it."
Finn crossed his arms. "What happened to trusting Aria? She literally saved the world."
A representative from the South stood up, face unreadable. "With all due respect, that's the problem. No one person should hold that kind of power unchecked."
The air in the room turned heavy.
Aria stepped forward, shoulders square. "The Shard chose me not for power, but for purpose. I don't command it. I protect it. I'm not asking for your faith. I'm asking for your memory. Remember what it cost to defeat the Weever. Remember what we lost."
For a moment, silence.
Then a quiet voice at the back: "And if the past repeats itself?"
Aria turned to find a young delegate from the Isles, barely older than her. He looked nervous, but earnest.
"We believed in the Wardens once too," he said. "And they betrayed us. How do we know this isn't just the beginning of another fall?"
Aria's jaw tightened, but Lyric stepped forward, her tone cool. "Because unlike the Wardens, we aren't hiding anything. The Shard is here. The Seeker stands before you. And every decision is made with counsel, not secrecy."
Quinn added, "We will not repeat the mistakes of the past."
The discussion continued for hours. Proposals were drawn. Compromises attempted. By the end of the meeting, there was no resolution—only the agreement to reconvene in three days.
As the council disbanded, Aria leaned against a marble pillar in the hallway, her fingers clutching the pendant. Kael approached, quiet as ever.
"You okay?" he asked.
She shook her head. "It's starting again. They're all scared. And I can feel the Shard... something's not right. Like it's warning me."
Kael placed a hand on her shoulder. "You won't face it alone."
Just then, Dorian appeared from the far corridor. Dressed in deep grey with a blade strapped to his side, he still carried that quiet intensity in his eyes. But there was a new softness to him—earned, not worn.
"The meeting went as expected," he said, coming to stand beside Aria.
"They want what they fear," Aria replied. "Typical."
Dorian nodded. "I scouted the Vale borders this morning. Something's... shifting. A presence. Old. Hidden beneath the surface."
Aria looked at him sharply. "Do you think it's connected to the Shard?"
"Maybe. Or maybe something darker is waking now that the balance has shifted."
She exhaled. "Great. First politics, now ominous whispers. Why not add a thunderstorm to the mix?"
Dorian offered a rare smile. "I'll see what I can do."
Later that night, Aria sat alone at the fountain in the garden, the stars reflected in the water below. She held the Shard in her palm.
"What are you trying to tell me?" she whispered.
A faint glow stirred within it—and a voice, soft as starlight.
They wear masks, Aria. But you will see through them.
She gasped and dropped the Shard slightly, but the voice was gone.
Masks. Pretenders.
Tomorrow, she would face the council again. But tonight, she knew the truth:
The peace they had built was fragile.
And not everyone wanted it to last.