She yelped in surprise, stumbling back at the figure behind her. They were cloaked in a pale fabric that covered their hair, hands and feet. Their features were…unlike anything Hal had seen before. Familiar and yet otherworldly. They had copper brown skin, smooth and flawless with no sign of any blemishes or wrinkles. Not even a freckle, like their skin had never been exposed to a single element during their lifetime. Because of that, they looked young. They could've been the same age as Hal. Older. Younger. She had no way of knowing. Almost like an elf. Except the eyes. The eyes were like a dragon's, yellow irises and black slits. The appearance felt unnatural. Like it was unfamiliar with how to be human so it had simply donned what it thought to be a passable disguise.

Hal realized their mouth was moving, and she mentally shook her head, coming to as if waking from a dream.

"I asked if you liked it?" they repeated, but their voice remained calm, the eyes almost teasing. Like they knew that Hal was still trying to process their sudden appearance.

"I…what?"

"Do you like it?" They gestured to the space around them and Hal jumped. The landscape she had been in moments ago had completely changed to something unrecognizable. They were standing in a field of flowers of every type and color. Bright and vibrant, they bowed to the gentle breeze that passed through them, waving towards Hal and the figure she stood with. The air was fragrant and sweet, a sensation Hal had never before experienced. But if she was here, then…

"So, do you like it?" They repeated for the third time. Yet even still, they showed no sign of frustration or impatience.

"Oh, um, yes. It's lovely." Hal forced her gaze back onto the figure. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere. Everywhere. You could say this place doesn't really exist, so I can make it into whatever I want it."

Frowning, Hal tried to understand what she was hearing. For a place that apparently didn't exist, it certainly felt real. The sights, the smells, the sounds…nothing felt like an illusion at all. She dug her nails into her palm. Not enough to cause harm, but enough that she winced at the pinch and withdrew.

"No, you're not dead either," the figure continued, somehow knowing. "Nor are you dreaming."

Hal turned slowly, facing this person with as much courage as she could muster. "Are you here to kill me?"

"I'm not."

"Then will you tell me who you are?"

A sly smile. "I am no one. And everyone. I am everything. And nothing at all. Can you guess?"

The teasing was unexpected, but Hal couldn't find it in her to smile back. "Are you like…a god or something?"

"Certainly not. Care to try again?"

Something in their demeanor felt almost childlike. A strange personality of someone far older than they appeared. Their wide, dragon-like eyes reminded Hal of Thorn when he was feeling particularly playful. However, in the same way Thorn could be endearing, there was no forgetting he was a fearsome predator. This being struck that same tone, only it was so much more subtle: no claws, no fangs, no fire, no gawking size. Just the eyes. That alone was perhaps more terrifying than anything.

Hal stared into those deep eyes, feeling like she was falling into them. Like they were trying to tell her something. That she knew the answer, she just had to find it.

"You're a spirit, aren't you?"

They smiled. "Very good, Halen. Like you, I am a collection of spirits, but older than most who call the land formerly known as Alagaësia home. I don't actually have a form, but for the purposes of our conversations, I thought I would take this one. I quite like it. I had almost taken yours since it was right in front of me, but thought that might be rather alarming. So, I cobbled together this face and body based off you and those in your memories."

Hal blinked. When had they searched her memories? She had not felt a thing despite her shields being as tough as ever. "If I'm not dead and I'm not dreaming, and you're not here to kill me, then why am I here?"

"Because you called out to me. Well, not just to me. Fortunately for you, however, I was what answered first. There are others here. Enemies who are not as compassionate that sought you for more nefarious means. But they fell back when I decided to approach."

Hal thought of the Ra'zac. This comment was made casually, almost innocently. But it was a grave reminder of the sheer power that stood before Hal right now. Energy personified. "Are you sure I'm not dead?" she blurted without thinking? They chuckled but just continued to look at her. Sighing with newfound weariness, Hal said, "I didn't mean to summon you; I was just using my magic."

"Is that not the same thing? Is your magic not a part of you?" Before Hal could answer, they continued. "But it was more than that. I admit it is not uncommon for me to sense when others use magic. If I responded to every single one, I would never know peace. However, yours felt different. Not just in the type of magic, but in the pain of it. The heartache. I admit I had not felt such things in so long."

Hal didn't immediately respond, recalling in silence how she had thought of everyone she had ever lost in that moment. She forgot, sometimes, just how frequently her magic at its most heightened state was fueled by such overbearing emotions like grief and rage. Yet, despite understanding this, Hal still found herself saying, "That can't possibly be true."

The words had left her before she had even realized it. They looked over at Hal with a rather confused look. "How do you mean?"

"The world has been suffering for years. Countless innocent lives lost in war and slaughter. And you felt none of it?"

"I did not. Perhaps it was your magic then, specifically, that called to me. Yours is ancient. It was once lost."

"That's what I've been told."

They turned and began to walk. Although they said nothing and gave no indication, Hal followed behind them until they walked in sync. After a few moments, they began to weave a tale. A story that had been lost over the many centuries. A story not told through the memories of one, but from a being who had been there from the beginning.

A time before elves or dwarves existed. It was just the dragons, the animals and other magical creatures, and the Titerria. That was what this entity called them. There was no direct translation, but the closest that Hal could find was a phrase she had heard before: children of the earth. Beings who believed they were born from the magic of the world itself, meant to wield and protect the land. Under them, life flourished. Every forest grew high and proud, the animals ate well, and the dragons ruled all. There was a peace, a natural order. This lasted for hundreds of years.

Then, one day, there was suddenly a new group of inhabitants. Dwarves, who appeared at the roots of the mountains to which they were born. They engaged in many battles with the dragons, but otherwise kept to themselves. So, the Titerria left them alone, although they observed from a curious and careful distance.

Then another race appeared. However, their origins were harder to pinpoint. Unlike the dwarves, their curiosity drove them to various parts of Alagaësia, where they would soon discover the Titerria. The Titerria required no language, and this group had their own. In an act of kindness, the group that would become known as the Grey Folk shared their language so that the two groups could live and communicate with one another. Excited by this new fate, the Titerria gifted them with magic.

For a small amount of time, all seemed well.

But magic was not instinctual to the Grey Folk like it was the Titerria. They were too easily distracted when using it. Too careless. And they grew frustrated. One such individual, a young man, had grown jealous of the Titerria, adamant that they had intentionally made magic difficult. That each spell they silently wove together was a taunt. There were some who felt this way, but his thoughts were not the majority. Unfortunately, as his rage grew, so did the threat. Until one day, in the middle of casting a spell in a duel with a member of the Titerria, he wished for their unequivocal demise.

However, as forewarned, such thoughts had power then. And so it came to be. What he did not expect was just how much the Titerria were woven and crucial to the survival of Alagaësia itself. Not only did their numbers begin to dwindle, but the land itself began to die. Forests and greenery withered; droughts so severe that they formed what would become known as the Hadarac. The ground shook with viciousness, large chunks of land breaking off to later become the homeland of the humans, elves, and Ra'zac, as well as the nearby islands.

The Grey Folk and the Titerria, along with the dragons and dwarves, risked annihilation. The Titerria fought desperately to save the land, but the spell could only be corrected as it had been cast. So the Grey Folk made the ultimate sacrifice, not intending to take from their friends what had once been shared willingly. After learning the exact stray thought that led to such destruction, the Grey Folk came together, using their collective strength and magic to not only undo the fateful spell, but to also bind the magic to the language, in the hopes of preventing anything like this from happening again. In doing so, the saved Alagaësia, and not a moment too soon, before they vanished without a trace.

The Titerria, however, did not have the same understanding of the language as the Grey Folk, as it had never been theirs to begin with. The new rules put a constraint on their abilities unlike anything they had seen before. Not to mention their numbers had been weakened in the curse. Frightened and unsure, they fled north, south, east, and west. They kept to themselves, never revealing their powers or origins to anyone outside of their own. Blending in with the human population that would soon come.

The Grey Folk were left to fade into lore and legend.

And the Titerria were doomed to fade into obscurity.

"That was the first and last time I truly felt a daunting wave of loss like what I felt with you," they continued, voice heavy with grief. "I hear whispers from time to time. Glimpses of what is happening through the crevices of the earth I move through. But never enough to fully understand. I'm not alive nor have I ever been, so sometimes I have difficulty grasping how complex such feelings and emotions are unless they are truly powerful."

"May I ask why you chose to reveal yourself to me? You could've observed. You could've done nothing at all. Why interfere at all? I can't imagine you were desperate for titillating conversation."

"What if I was? Is that wrong of me?" When Hal didn't answer, they sighed. "I suppose I was just curious. It is as I said: I have traversed these lands since the beginning of time. I have seen the imprints the living has made upon them, but it never really meant anything to me. They were, how I can put it…actions with no context. Spirits do not interfere in the disputes of the living. It is not our place. But that does not mean that we cannot wonder and question. And I have questions, Halen Zarasdaughter, now Halen Morzansson. Questions that I think you will be able to answer."

"Questions like what?"

"Like why are you in so much pain?"

Hal blinked, needing to make sure she heard correctly. "What?"

"I do not often get such opportunities and I admit I'm at a loss. I want you to make it make sense for me."

Hal stared at them before scoffing in disbelief. A rather bold reaction to an ancient entity that could probably blink twice and kill Hal where she stood. "Didn't you say you touched my mind to cobble together the face you're wearing. Were you not able to discern human emotions in that time?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, but their response seemed unaware — or perhaps just uncaring to Hal's sarcasm — and they flatly replied, "No. It's far more complicated than that."

"Of course it is," Hal grumbled. She glanced around again. "Why is it so important for you to know?"

They studied her with an expression both patient and curious, but didn't answer. Hal felt a stirring of familiarity. Her face, she knew, had once looked upon Murtagh with just this gaze. Thea's face, had also worn such innocence as a child. They wore so many faces Hal had once looked upon or imagined, and loved. Eyes wide as someone who only wanted to know more about the world and about magic. She had never been fully able to say no to such a face. Especially when it was worn of such sincerity and genuine interest.

Hal nodded. "All right then. I'll start from the beginning of my story then, as that's the only one I know best…"

When she finished, they were both sitting in the flowers in silence, gazing out into the distance. Hal knew hours had passed, and yet there was no sign of the time. In fact, as she looked up, she could not even find the sun. How curious.

"All this time, I did not realize how much suffering had been endured because of magic. It was never meant to be such a burden. Only a gift."

"I know," Hal agreed. "Had they gone about it in a much different way, I could understand why the spirits who claimed my sister wanted to rid the world of it. Although I still don't believe they should have made an exception with our kin. All or nothing was far too drastic, but if that is the only way for people to live with dignity, then maybe that is for the best. Without magic, what value would we have to the world? What reason would others have to hunt us down like dogs? Maybe we would know true peace if magic ceased to exist after all."

"Do you wish to leave it as it is then?"

Hal was quick to shake her head. "Magic in abundance had its share of issues, yes. But magic in high demand will be worse. I just want everything to go back to the way it was. Of course, there's no way of doing that. At least none that I'm aware of."

They made a face, like they were thinking hard about something. "It must be fixed as it was broken," they muttered. "A very tricky yet cleverly disguised rule to dissuade fools from attempting more than what they can handle. Oh, but it would still be very risky. Very, very risky."

"What do you mean?"

"As you know, magic requires energy. An abundance of it. To attempt something as dangerous as bending the rules of magic requires a massive sacrifice of life. The Grey Folk and the people of Ilirea, as you mentioned."

"Aye," Hal said slowly, unsure of where this was going.

"Tell me, Halen: do you know where we are right now?"

"Er…nowhere?"

They chuckled. "Fair enough. Technically, yes. We are nowhere. However, the sight you see before you once existed. Look closer."

Hal had no idea what she was looking for, but did as instructed. She took in the fields of flowers, the snow-capped mountains that stood tall beyond. Surely no place so perfect existed in Alagaësia…

Wait? Mountains?

Hal studied the peaks, the recent familiarity of the shape of the ranges becoming clear. She inhaled sharply then with understanding and the figure smiled. Hal spun to look at them, unable to fathom it. "This is the north? This is where we are right now. Or were?"

"Indeed, it is. After the Grey Folk claimed magic, your ancestors traveled here for safety and protection. This is what the land once looked like before they attempted to undo what had been done. But as you know, they were unsuccessful. While they did not suffer the casualties the Grey Folk did, what exists now is a result of their failure. But it was not because they lacked the energy, but because they lacked the knowledge."

They looked at Hal carefully, like they were trying to instill some secret to her with this anecdote. "I'm sorry, I still don't follow."

"Don't apologize. There are none who can possibly understand the gravity of what I'm saying. They would be arrogant to try." They got to their knees, leaning towards Hal with growing excitement. "It's so simple it feels more difficult than it really is. To restore magic, you need to fix it as it was broken."

"Yes," Hal said slowly, but her mind was moving at a much faster rate. She thought of Thea's curse. The original curse. The sacrifices of both. "An abundance of energy," she said, oddly encouraged by the figure's encouraging nod, "and…and…"

Hal's expression then began to crack under the slow realization of what they were saying. In its simplicity, Hal had overlooked the obvious. "The Grey Folk and Thea both used physical bodies as energy. My ancestors tried to use the earth, but because they lacked the intricacies of how the language and magic had been bound, they were unable to undo anything at all. And they cursed the land as a result. Thea didn't know how to use the earth — she tried on Uden and failed. But she was able to grasp the basics to accomplish what our ancestors failed to do."

The figure slowly smiled, knowing that Hal had reached the conclusion they had been guiding her to all along. Still, she had to say it aloud to make sure. "I can do both," she finished. "I can pull from the energy from the earth and I have the knowledge of the language to make my intent clear. I can restore magic."

Thea had been proof that one being could cast such a large spell and survive. However, both she and the Grey Folk had required enormous sacrifice for the energy. Blödhgarm had once told her during their lessons that magic users could call upon the energy from their surroundings, but very few actually knew this. And if they did know, it took a very powerful and knowledgeable user to do as much with such focus. Even elves rarely attempted it because of the risk it posed. Despite knowing she had done it before, Hal had been spurred on by the desperate situation she had found herself in. It felt reckless, perhaps even arrogant, to even fathom doing it now.

She sighed. "Saying it is one thing though. Actually doing it…and doing it correctly at that…"

There was no response. Although Hal wasn't entirely sure what she would have wanted to hear. Then she blinked, an idea coming to her that she was surprised it took her this long to even realize. "Wait, can't you help me?"

"Me?"

"You're a spirit — or rather, many of them. Couldn't you help me to restore magic. To make sure I don't make a mistake?"

"Why would I do that?"

Hal stared at them in disbelief before pulling herself together, lest she cause offense in the middle of asking for a favor. "You said you were called not just to my magic, but the pain that fueled it. Maybe it's because you want to help. You can help me. Not just me, millions of beings who call this land home."

They listened to her carefully as she spoke, head tilted in an almost childlike way as they absorbed all she was saying. However, when Hal had finished, they were already shaking their head. "I can't."

Hal licked her lips, trying not to let her frustration show as she bit out as politely as possible: "Why not?"

"You're right, I spoke too quickly." However, before Hal could even fathom getting her hopes up, they quickly clarified: "I can't help you unless you give me something in return."

Hal felt her expression fall completely.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're not exactly asking a small favor of me. And I did say spirits don't often interfere in the agendas of the living. What you are proposing will have long term ramifications, the likes of which this land has never seen before —"

"Like what?"

"Like what?" They repeated, incredulous. "You are asking me to help you rewrite the laws of magic on a massive scale. You are not simply correcting the efforts of your sister, but you are also having to expand this new magic beyond the land formerly known as Alagaësia. You will be setting a chain of events in motion that will be felt far beyond the lifetime of any being that calls this country home. You said you have knowledge of the language to restore it as it was, but I have seen your mind Halen Morzansson. Do you know every rule, every word, as well as you think you do? Because if you don't, you will restore magic with mistakes. And those mistakes could cost you and other users dearly."

Heart thudding in her chest, Hal felt her panic began to rise. No. Her rudimentary studies would not be enough. Years of studying would not be enough. She was as trapped as her ancestors were. She did not know enough. It wasn't enough to want to bind magic once again to the Ancient Language. Her intent, her focus, had to be exact. And no, she could not confidently say that she alone would be enough.

"I could get help," she began feebly. "There are others who do know the language."

"But they do not have the magic."

"And you have both knowledge of the language of you have magic."

"I do."

"But you will not help me unless I offer you payment of some kind?"

"That is my offer, yes."

Hal threw her hands up with exasperation. "This conversation is going in circles. Just tell me if it's impossible; why make me jump for the answers I need. Why can't you just tell me, exactly, what it is I have to do so that I can decide for myself if I should."

They watched her carefully, their expression giving nothing away. At first, Hal thought she had perhaps finally overstepped and had angered them. However, when they spoke again, their voice was softer, a sadness edging every word.

"I realize how unfair and cruel it must seem to you. We do not remain idle in important matters because we like it. However, the world, as you have learned, is an unfair and cruel place. To present ourselves, to thrust such power and immortality, into mortal affairs would only seed further violence. We want to avoid these things. However, we realize we have also been complicit in suffering because of this. We cannot atone for this, but we want to make it right. However, our involvement will come with a cost. If it is one you are willing to pay, then we will be cooperative."

"Can I have time to think about it? I can come back and —"

"This is our offer. And this is the only time you will get it."

Hal expected as much, but she had hoped to buy herself more time. "And you will not tell me what this deal will cost me? What you will ask of me in the future…am I not allowed to know what for?"

"Even we cannot predict how events will fall once we do what we must. Understand us when we say this, Halen: to take magic away and to return it, even under the same language, will have consequences you will not yet foresee. But they will be there. And when it comes time to face those same consequences, we must know that you are willing to carry that burden. There is no shame is denying this. However, you would be foolish to think otherwise. And even we can tell during this brief conversation, that you are not foolish."

Hal knew they were right. She had even questioned as much to Murtagh about the language's true name, and if it might change as a result of what Thea had done. She had always thought of magic as this non-living thing. Something molded and fashioned by the spellcasters who called on it.

However, the truth was that magic was just as alive as she was. Lived and breathed. She had learned as much after the Menoa Tree had touched her mind. To be alive means to go through change. Nothing that lives stays the same.

And the strength of her power lay within knowing and understanding magic as something that lived.

Heavens, Murtagh was going to kill her. But without further hesitation, she steeled herself and asked, "What do you need me to do?"

…

Hal was thrust back into the present with an abruptness that left her reeling and no time to remember that she was supposed to be protecting herself from Thea. However, she and the Shade were thrust apart when a force of air collided with the both of them, tossing them each several feet back. The snow cushioned much, but Hal was disoriented as struggled to get to her feet like she was moving through water.

When she was standing, facing her opponent, she had a moment's pause. A strange unease clouded her mind. Remnants of a promise she could not remember making. A conversation she could not remember having. She felt, inexplicably, like she had forgotten something important.

She glanced around for the source of the magic that had separated her and Thea. Aunt Zola was on her hands and knees in the snow, looking quite alarmed and relieved, and Hal could only assume the magic had belonged to her. Before she could confirm this, there was a sharp movement out of the corner of her eyes. She saw the Shade making a run for it, Hal's momentary confusion was quickly forgotten as she gave chase. Hal ignored the cry of warning from her aunt. She could not let them get away again. She had to stop her, right here. Right now.

Even in thick snow and boots, Thea moved frightfully fast, much more accustomed to the mobility difficulties than Hal, who struggled to keep up. Thea darted between two split sections of mountain which were covered in nothing but jagged ice formations. Her bright red hair was a beacon, forever in Hal's immediate sight as she followed close behind.

"Thea —!"

Before she could finish, the Shade suddenly halted, and spun on her heel. Hal only had a moment to register the winking silver before twisting to the side, her hand flying up to catch the dagger Thea had thrown at her by the blade. The sharp edge dug into Hal's palm and she inwardly winced. Outwardly, however, she was more stunned than in pain at her own reflexes.

Thea smirked, standing straight. "Well, you're certainly getting the hang of your abilities, Halen."

Quietly transferring the blade to her left hand, Hal turned to face Thea directly. She noticed the giant wall of ice behind her and realized they were trapped.

"Is this what they call an impasse?" Thea asked, too casual for Hal's liking. When she didn't respond, Thea added, "Come now. You're here to kill me, you could at least make polite conversa —"

Hal spoke a few words, quietly but quickly. Thea didn't have a moment to process what was happening until it was far too late. When Hal was finished, Thea was standing stone still, shock apparent in her red eyes. "How?"

Hal shook her head. "I don't know."

And it was the truth. She had no idea how she had learned Thea's true name. Only that it had suddenly come to her like a vision. Hal felt a slight twinge near her temple and she dropped the effort to try and remember…whatever it was she felt she should remember. But despite the feeling of something missing, in its place was Thea's true name. Inexplicable, but real all the same.

Now Hal began to walk closer. Thea did not look angry like Hal would have expected. Only resigned. "You can kill me, Halen, it matters not. Even if all I set out to do will remain unfinished, I have succeeded where others before me failed. The Sani, the Titerria, are, once again, the sole users of magic. You can deny your birthright but it exists all the same. You are Titerria. You are a child of the earth. This land and its magic will always belong to you."

They were talking faster now as Hal drew near, eyes almost feral with conviction. When Hal stood before them, she suddenly felt a heaviness in her heart that hadn't been there before. For in these final moments, she wanted nothing more than to see her sister one last time. To see her as she deserved to be remembered. As the selfless, brave, whimsical, lonely, frightened sixteen-year-old girl who had died in the service of her people and in the hopes of seeing her family again. Hal did not want to recall these cold, red eyes years from now. Yet she thought of Murtagh, and how he could not have put a blade through Hal's chest if she had retained her proper features. Hal knew it had to be this way. To stand before a stranger she had once called family, with absolutely no recognition or love. Only regret that this was the only way.

"You have fought long enough, Thea," Hal whispered, lifting her injured hand and pressed the bloody palm to the frigid cheeks of the Shade. "Go. And be at peace."

With the smallest burst of relief in her heart, Hal plunged the dagger into her sister's chest.