Aeren stood frozen, his breath caught somewhere between disbelief and fury.
She looked exactly as he remembered—eyes like wildfire, the same defiant arch to her brow, even the faint scar above her left cheek. But her presence now felt different, cloaked in ancient power and burdened silence.
"Mother?" he repeated, voice trembling.
The Watcher removed the rest of her hood. "Yes, Aeren. It's me."
Elira stepped beside him, hand instinctively drifting toward her weapon. "You said she died."
"She did," Aeren whispered. "At least… that's what they told me."
"I did die," his mother said, stepping closer, her voice gentle but unyielding. "In a way. The woman I was—the one who lived in Emberfall—she's gone. What remains is part of something older."
"You're one of them," Kaelen said. "A Watcher."
"I am," she replied. "But I did not come to judge. I came to warn."
Zephren frowned. "Warning us about what? We've already faced the Herald."
"The Herald was a trial, not the war. The Hollow Crown fears what you've become. But others…" She looked toward the broken vault. "They seek to erase what you could be."
Lyra stepped forward, holding the broken crystal shard from the last vault. "You knew about the memory nodes."
"I helped build them," Aeren's mother said. "Long before you were born. They hold the essence of the First Weave—the magic of unity, not domination. But those who fear it have begun to destroy them."
Bryn crossed his arms. "Let me guess, those 'others' wouldn't happen to wear the same creepy cloaks as you?"
Aeren's mother smiled faintly. "Not all Watchers are the same. We were once protectors of balance. But over time… some chose control."
Kiran's eyes narrowed. "So what now? You spy on us? Decide our fates from your council tower?"
"No. I came because I chose you." She looked at her son. "Because I believe in what you're becoming."
Aeren stepped forward, his voice hoarse. "Why didn't you come back? When I was a kid, when Father lost himself, when I was alone—where were you?"
Her face cracked then, grief leaking through the mask of composure. "I wanted to. But stepping away from the Hollow Crown would've meant death—for me and possibly for you. I watched from the shadows. But I never stopped loving you."
Elira moved closer to Aeren, brushing her hand against his. He didn't pull away.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
"You find the remaining nodes," his mother said. "Awaken the First Weave. Uncover what was buried. And prepare."
"For what?"
She turned, her cloak swirling like stormclouds. "The Hollow Crown is not the greatest enemy. Something worse is stirring beneath the earth. A force forgotten even by the ancients."
Kaelen rolled her eyes. "Of course it is. It's always something worse."
"But this time," the mother said, "you won't face it alone. I have allies among the Watchers. When the time comes, we will stand with you."
She pressed a crystal into Aeren's hand. "This will lead you to the next node. Use it well."
Then she stepped back—and vanished.
Aeren stared at the spot where she'd stood.
"I don't know whether to scream or cry," he muttered.
"Try both," Elira offered. "We've got time. Kinda."
Lyra examined the crystal. "This one's leading north. Into the Verdant Scar."
Bryn groaned. "The forest where plants eat people? Lovely."
"Better than another underwater swim," Kiran said dryly.
They packed up camp.
Ahead of them, the path twisted through ancient groves and silent roots.
Behind them, silver eyes watched.
And far below, in the deep hollows of the world, something stirred.
Something hungry.