Sarafina's POV
I woke to silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that felt… intentional.Held.
Like the room itself was waiting for me to breathe.
I pushed myself upright slowly, my palms sinking into a blanket that wasn't mine. The bed was softer. The air colder. The light dim, not artificial light, but something gentler, like it was coming through stone instead of a window.
My chest tightened.
This wasn't my apartment.
Panic scraped the inside of my throat.
Memories came in flashes:
Cassian shouting my name
Hunters storming in
Alistair tearing through them, the two of them carrying me together, my head against someone's chest
the world flickering, cracking, shaking—
And then nothing.
I lifted a trembling hand.
My fingers were dusted with faint silver, like the leftover sparks of whatever exploded out of me.
"What happened to me…?"
My voice sounded small, even to my own ears.
Footsteps approached outside the door.
Slow.
Measured.
I stiffened, pressing against the stone wall behind the bed.
The door opened without sound.
Not Cassian.
Not Alistair.
A man entered tall, calm, his presence quiet but powerful. He wore layered dark clothing woven with thin silver threads. His long braids were tied back, revealing sharp cheekbones and eyes the color of pale frost.
He closed the door behind him and stopped a respectful distance away.
"Good," he murmured. "You're awake."
My pulse leapt painfully.
"Who are you?"
I hated how shaky I sounded.
"Where am I? What did you do to me?"
He bowed his head.
The gesture was small, but deliberate.
"My name is Thalen," he said. "High Seer of the Arcanum."
Arcanum.
Cassian had snapped a book shut with that word on the cover once.
I'd thought it was a myth.
I swallowed hard. "I want to go home."
"You will," Thalen said. "But not yet."
Fear surged.
"Where are Cassian and Alistair? They…..they were with me. We were leaving. I felt them both holding me."
Thalen's expression softened.
Almost sadly.
"You collapsed. Your energy destabilized. A second surge was rising, more violent than the first."
He stepped closer. Not threatening, measured, careful.
"Had it unleashed inside that building, everyone near you would have been harmed."
My blood ran cold.
"So I intervened," he continued quietly. "I extracted you."
"Extracted…?"
I swallowed.
"You took me away from them?"
"I saved you from killing yourself," he said simply. "And from being taken by hunters."
My fingers curled into the blanket.
"And Cassian?" My voice broke. "Alistair?"
"They are alive," Thalen said. "And yes, they are searching for you."
The breath I'd been holding escaped in a rush.
He continued, voice even:
"When I arrived, they were carrying you together. Protecting you. But the moment the flare spiked again, you vanished from their arms. They woke to an empty hallway."
I covered my mouth with my hand.
"They think someone stole you away," Thalen finished softly.
Because someone did.
"You."
The word escaped like a shiver.
"Me," he agreed. Not defensive. Simply true. "But only because your awakening has begun."
Awakening.
Not the first time someone used that word.
But it hit differently now, coming from someone who spoke like he knew exactly what I was and exactly what was happening.
"I'm not awakening," I whispered. "I'm falling apart. I'm losing control. Something is wrong with me."
Thalen's gaze sharpened.
"No, Sarafina. Something is finally right."
My chest tightened until it hurt. "What does that even mean?"
"Tell me," he said gently. "When you slept… did you dream?"
My breath stilled.
The woman of silver light.
Her hands on my face.
Her voice—soft and painful and impossibly familiar.
My daughter…
I didn't realize tears had gathered until one slipped down my cheek.
Thalen watched me with an expression I couldn't name.
"You saw her," he said.
I shook my head. "I don't even know who she is."
"You do," he murmured. "Your blood does, even if your mind refuses to remember."
He lifted his hand, not toward me, but toward the air beside me.
Something drifted from my skin.
A thin ribbon of pale white light, like breath made visible. It hovered, trembling softly, responding to him.
No.
Responding to me.
"What…"
My voice barely worked.
"What is that?"
Thalen's eyes warmed with something almost reverent.
"Your inheritance."
I stared at the light.
At my hand.
At him.
"Inheritance?"
I shook my head. "I don't have anything. I'm nobody. I'm normal."
"You died," Thalen said quietly. "And when you returned… the seal your mother placed upon you began to fracture."
My heart stopped.
"My mother died when I was two."
He stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper.
"Not that mother."
The room swayed.
"Thalen," I whispered, "who… was she?"
He took a breath like he'd been waiting years to say the words.
"Celestine. High Priestess. Last Starlight Sovereign."
I stared blankly.
He lowered himself to one knee before me. Not in worship. Not in fear.
In recognition.
"And you," he said softly, "are her only child."
My stomach twisted. "You're lying."
"I would never," he replied.
The air hummed. The light in my chest flickered—painful, bright.
"No," I said, voice shaking. "I'm not….I'm not anything. I'm just…."
"You are the Starlight Heir," Thalen whispered.
The world didn't explode.
It didn't brighten.
It didn't crack.
But I did.
Inside.
Where the truth had been waiting.
"No…"
My voice broke. "No, no, please….don't call me that."
Thalen bowed his head.
"Forgive me," he said quietly, "but I must."
And then—
He spoke the words that made my blood turn to ice.
"Welcome home, Princess Sarafina."