When the shaman disappeared into the mountains, Lucien stood at the cliff's edge with the Book of the Banished Souls clutched to her chest. The wind carried a single whisper:
"In fifteen years… you'll understand."
She didn't cry.
Not then.
She couldn't.
The girl who once feared the dark now walked in it. And even so, as she made her way back to the city, the silence that followed her mentor's departure stung deeper than any spirit's claw.
She returned home as a stranger.
Her mother gasped when she saw her—aged, hardened, eyes no longer wide with wonder but narrowed by things she couldn't speak of. "Lucien?" she whispered, hands trembling. "Is it… really you?"
Lucien fell into her arms, and for the first time in years, she allowed herself to feel the warmth she'd buried deep.
"Yes, Mama. I'm home."
Her mother held her tight, but even in the safety of her embrace, Lucien felt it—that emptiness. The space her father used to fill.
He was gone. Had been for years.
But what Lucien never knew… was that he had never truly left.
Kade—her father—watched from the shadows that night. His coat soaked in rain, his old wounds aching. He stood just far enough to stay hidden, just close enough to whisper under his breath:
"You made it… Thank the gods."
He'd followed her ghost for years, afraid his presence would curse her. Afraid that being a part of her life would destroy what little good remained in her world. But now—seeing the woman she had become—he let himself smile for the first time in a long, long while.
He saw strength. He saw courage.
He saw her mother's eyes and his own fire.
He saw his daughter.
Lucien didn't know.
Not then.
But she would, one day.
For now, she kept the shaman's teachings close, the book hidden beneath floorboards and quiet prayers. To the world, it was just a dusty relic. But to her—it was sacred. It was purpose. It was a gift from someone who'd saved her when she was a lost, terrified child trembling in a nest of vengeful ghosts.
That night still haunted her—the cold breath of the dead, the suffocating fear, the helplessness…
Until she appeared.
The Shaman.
Who risked her life to save Lucien's.
Who stayed to teach her, to shape her, to prepare her.
Lucien never got to say thank you the way she wanted to. But every time she channeled energy, every time she whispered a warding spell, every time she faced death and didn't flinch—her heart said it for her.
Thank you for believing in me.
Thank you for giving me a chance.
Thank you… for trusting me with the end of the world.