Elara awoke with a scream trapped in her throat.
Cold clung to her bones like a second skin. Her body trembled not from the cave's frost, but from something deeper—like a memory clawing its way to the surface, refusing to be forgotten.
She sat up, breath ragged, heart pounding like war drums.
Porco was curled near her head, twitching in his sleep. "No... don't dip the carrot in lava, that's illegal..."
Elara blinked, trying to focus.
The others were scattered around the small fire. Lior and Rael sat on opposite ends, deep in thought. Kairon leaned against a rock wall, sharpening his daggers. Ronin was arguing with Thorne over how close tents should be pitched. Daemon stared at the flames, his eyes too still.
They were all waiting.
Waiting for her.
Because the ancient voice—the one from the frozen portal—had declared something no one could ignore.
"That is not your true name."
---
When she stood, the entire camp quieted.
"I need answers," she said.
Kairon tilted his head. "So do we."
Rael nodded. "You should start talking."
Elara looked away. "I… I'm not just a herbalist."
Ronin scoffed. "Oh really? I thought you were just incredibly good with flowers and nearly breaking dimensional gates."
Lior cut in, his tone gentle. "We knew something was different about you. But what are you not telling us?"
"I'm…" Her hands trembled. "The daughter of the true God of Light. My real name—it was erased. Hidden."
Porco hopped onto a rock. "Also, she's technically part magical fridge. Don't ask me how it works."
Daemon's brow furrowed. "So you're not fully awakened. That's why your powers come in bursts."
"I don't know how to trigger it," she whispered. "The portal won't open unless I remember my name… and I don't even know where to start."
---
Suddenly, the cave trembled.
Lior's eyes sharpened. "Did someone trigger a trap?"
"No," Thorne said. "This… feels like a presence."
A figure appeared from the far shadows of the tunnel—a glowing, translucent form of a woman clad in glimmering ice. Her eyes were the same shade as Elara's.
"Elara," the spirit whispered.
She froze. "Who—?"
"I am Selyra. Your mother's handmaiden. I was sealed with her during the betrayal."
The warriors formed a circle around Elara, weapons partially raised, but no one attacked.
"Do not fear me," Selyra said. "I've come because the gate will not wait forever."
"Do you know my real name?" Elara asked.
The spirit's face softened. "No. Only your mother did. She locked it within your soul the day she sent you away, so that even the false god could not take it."
Rael clenched his fists. "Then we're no closer."
"Not true," Selyra said. "There's a trial. One left by the old gods—hidden deep in the Fireveil Caverns."
Ronin frowned. "Let me guess. Fire, traps, molten death?"
"Yes," Selyra said sweetly.
---
Two days later, they reached the edges of Fireveil Caverns. Lava flowed in rivers below the narrow ledges. The heat was unbearable. Elara had tied her sleeves back, hair in a messy braid, sweating profusely.
"Who designed this place?" she muttered. "The sun?"
Ronin grinned. "I don't know. But your glowing cheeks are kind of cute."
Thorne shoved him. "Stop flirting."
"You're just mad she smiled at me last."
"I sneezed and she handed me a flower! That's affection!"
"BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP," Porco screamed. "My quills are on fire!"
Kairon lifted Porco by the scruff, dropped him into Elara's bag. "Better."
"Rude!"
The trial gate shimmered ahead—a massive obsidian door with seven locks.
Daemon narrowed his eyes. "Seven seals. One for each of us."
"And what do we offer?" Lior asked.
"Sacrifice," the spirit Selyra answered, fading in again. "You must each give up something you hold dear… temporarily."
They stared at each other.
Kairon grunted. "This better not involve emotions."
---
One by one, they stepped forward.
Rael offered his sword. Lior, a crystal from his homeland. Kairon, the shadow amulet he wore since childhood. Thorne gave up his dragon ring. Ronin... reluctantly placed his enchanted flirting mirror into the fire.
"Farewell, sweet self-reflection," he whispered.
Even Daemon gave a piece of his soul-bonded chain.
Then came Elara.
She hesitated. "I... have nothing that powerful."
Porco popped out. "You have me."
She blinked. "Porco…"
"You're the first person who didn't try to use me like a backpack. Or dinner."
She smiled, eyes shimmering. "Okay."
With a deep breath, she placed Porco into the fire basin.
"AUGH! Wait, I TAKE IT BACK—" poof.
The fire shimmered, then vanished. The doors began to open.
Elara's jaw dropped. "Porco?!"
Suddenly he poofed back out, singed, twitching.
"I saw things… evil pastries... gods arguing over mayonnaise… NEVER AGAIN."
---
Inside was a platform of fire, with a pedestal at its center.
On it lay a crystal—radiant, pulsing.
Elara stepped forward.
"Only the heir may touch it," said the voice.
She reached out—and the fire didn't burn.
It welcomed her.
As she touched the crystal, her body lit up. Not in flame—but in soft, glimmering frost.
Her mind exploded with visions—her mother, the light palace, a name whispered in the wind...
Then she collapsed.
---