The air of Havenwood—five centuries untouched—cut into Elara's lungs like a promise and a warning all at once.
It was clean. Too clean.No ash. No drifting mist. No rot clinging to magic.
This is what we lost.
Ancient trees arched overhead, their silver-veined leaves whispering in a language older than grief. Power hummed beneath Elara's boots—alive, unbroken, unaware of the doom waiting for it.
Then she saw her.
The Fae woman stood at the heart of the glade, tall and unyielding, crowned in woven moonlight. Her presence bent the air, not with force, but with authority earned through centuries of survival. Hair pale as frost fell down her back. Eyes—emerald and sharp—locked onto Elara's face.
The same eyes Elara saw every morning in the mirror.
A ripple moved through the gathered Fae. Hands drifted toward weapons. Magic stirred.
The woman's gaze narrowed, ancient and piercing."Travelers," she said calmly, though the ground itself seemed to listen. "You do not belong to this hour."
Her eyes dropped—straight to the locket glowing faintly against Elara's chest.
"And you carry an echo that should not yet exist."
Elara's pulse slammed. She knows.
Kaelen's hand closed around hers—steady, warm, anchoring. Elara inhaled and stepped forward before fear could root her in place.
"My name is Elara Thorne," she said, lifting her chin. "And this is Kaelen. Lyra. Oberon. We come from the future."
A sharp intake echoed among the Fae.
The woman did not move. Did not blink."Time is not a river one simply steps into," she said. "It resists."
"We didn't come by choice," Lyra muttered under her breath.
Elara pressed on. "We came because Havenwood dies."
Silence fell like a blade.
The Fae woman's gaze hardened. "Explain."
Elara swallowed. Say it. Before courage abandons you."The Echo Stone shatters. The forest is swallowed by endless mist. An ancient King—one you are already sensing—nearly breaks free."
That did it.
The air shifted. Magic surged. Whispers burst from the gathered Fae like sparks from flint.
The woman lifted one hand. Order snapped back into place.
"The King is sealed," she said coldly. "His shadow cannot—"
"It already is," Kaelen cut in, voice firm, unflinching. "We've seen it. The corruption has begun. Subtle. Patient. It feeds on fractures—emotional and magical."
Her gaze flicked to him, sharp with sudden interest. Then back to Elara.
"You," she said slowly, "are blood of my blood."
Elara's breath caught.
"My descendant," the woman continued, eyes searching Elara's face with something dangerously close to pain. "And in your time… I am gone."
Elara nodded. "You were used. Bound to the King's essence. As a conduit."
A tremor rippled through the Fae leader's composure—barely there, but real.
"We stopped the full awakening," Elara added quickly. "But not before part of him escaped. His essence is tied to something called the Dark Echo."
The color drained from the woman's face.
"That relic was forbidden," she whispered. "Forged from the King's own shadow. It was never meant to endure."
"The Collective has it," Kaelen said. "And they're moving fast."
The woman's gaze dropped once more to Elara's locket—now glowing brighter, warmer.
"The true Echo Stone," she murmured. "Whole. Unbroken."Her eyes lifted sharply. "And yet in your time, it shattered."
"Yes," Elara said. "That's why we're here. We believe if we can find it now—before it falls—we can change what happens."
A long pause.
Then the woman laughed.
Not kindly.
"Change the future?" she asked softly. "Child… the Echo Stone did not break because of the King."
Elara's blood ran cold.
"It broke," the Fae leader continued, voice lowering, "because someone within Havenwood wanted it to."
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
"The King's corruption is not an invasion," she said. "It is a sickness. It spreads through doubt. Through fear. Through betrayal."
Her gaze swept over her people—then locked onto Elara.
"And it has already taken root among my protectors."
Elara's fingers tightened around Kaelen's hand as dread coiled in her chest.
We didn't come early enough.
The silence after the revelation felt heavier than any scream.
Elara's chest tightened as the Fae leader's words settled into her bones.
"Not an invasion," the woman said quietly. "A surrender."
She stepped closer now, moonlight catching the sorrow carved into her sharp features. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable—same stubborn jaw, same defiant set to the eyes. Only centuries of regret separated them.
"The fracturing of the Echo Stone," the Fae leader continued, voice low and bruised, "was not the King's triumph alone. It was born from fear. From ambition. From one of our own believing they could control the darkness instead of destroy it."
Elara shook her head slowly. No. No, that can't—
"They weakened the wards," the woman said. "Just enough. Whispered doubt into the council. Promised salvation through sacrifice." Her lips trembled, just once. "And when the corruption took hold, the only way to stop it was to shatter the Stone itself."
A sacrifice.
Elara's throat burned. "You're saying Havenwood broke itself to survive."
"Yes." The word fell like ash. "And in doing so, it taught the King something invaluable."
Kaelen's grip tightened around Elara's hand, his thumb brushing her knuckles in a grounding, almost unconscious gesture.
"That loyalty can be turned," he said grimly. "That love can be poisoned."
The Fae leader's gaze snapped to him. "You understand."
Kaelen met her stare without flinching. "I've lived it."
Something unreadable passed between them—recognition, perhaps. Or warning.
Elara swallowed. "Who was it?" she asked softly. "The traitor. Tell me."
The woman looked away, toward the towering heart-tree at the center of the glade. Its trunk glowed faintly, pulsing with ancient magic.
"The King did not erase their name," she said. "Time did. Guilt did. And perhaps… mercy."
"That's not an answer," Elara said, heat creeping into her voice. "People died. Havenwood fell. You suffered. I suffered."
The Fae leader turned back sharply. "And you think I don't know that?"
The forest stirred, reacting to her flare of emotion.
"I carried that failure for centuries," she continued, voice cracking. "Watched the shadow spread because I hesitated. Because I trusted the wrong silence."
Elara stepped forward before Kaelen could stop her. "Then don't hesitate now."
Their eyes locked—past and future colliding.
"If the betrayal happens again," Elara said, "then it means it was never truly stopped. And I won't let that stand."
The Fae leader studied her for a long moment. Then, quietly, "You speak like someone who has already lost everything."
Elara's fingers curled tighter around Kaelen's hand.
"I almost lost him," she admitted. Her voice softened, raw. "To the King. To that darkness."
Kaelen turned to her then, silver eyes searching her face. Are you sure you want to say this? they seemed to ask.
She was.
"He is my anchor," Elara said, not looking away from her ancestor. "My choice. Across every timeline."
The words hung between them—unspoken promises given voice.
Kaelen's breath hitched. He lifted her hand, pressing his forehead briefly against her knuckles. Not a kiss. Something deeper. Something reverent.
I'm here, his silence said. No matter what breaks.
The Fae leader watched them, something aching and wistful flickering across her expression.
"So the Echo has chosen well," she murmured.
Lyra cleared her throat softly. "If we're done with the emotional devastation—time matters. If there's a traitor, they're already moving."
The Fae leader nodded once. "Then listen carefully."
She raised her hand. Runes flared in the air, forming a map of Havenwood—alive, breathing.
"The intact Echo Stone rests beneath the heart-tree," she said. "But it cannot be approached while discord lingers. The King's corruption binds itself to unresolved fear."
Oberon frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," she said, eyes darkening, "the traitor is still among us."
A chill swept through the group.
Elara's pulse thundered. "Here. Now."
"Yes."
The forest shuddered.
Then—
A scream tore through the glade.
Sharp. Fae.
Magic exploded somewhere to the east.
Weapons were drawn in an instant. Kaelen pulled Elara behind him, his body a shield, instincts screaming.
"No," the Fae leader whispered. "It's begun."
The heart-tree's glow flickered.
A figure stumbled into the clearing, blood staining their robes, eyes wild with terror.
"They've opened it," the Fae gasped. "The ward—"
The ground split.
Darkness surged upward like a living wound, tendrils of shadow clawing toward the Echo Stone's resting place.
And standing at the edge of the rupture—
One of the Fae councilors.
Hands raised. Smiling.
"You were never meant to change the future," they said calmly. "Only repeat it."
The King's whisper slithered through the air.
Elara felt the locket burn against her skin.
This is it.
Kaelen turned to her, eyes fierce. "Whatever happens—stay with me."
She nodded, fear and fire colliding in her chest. "Always."
The shadow surged.
The betrayal was complete.
And Havenwood began to fall—again.