The forest was gone.

Only light remained — bending, twisting, folding into images that bled like ink in water.

Alex stood at the edge of it, staring into a horizon made entirely of Adrielle’s memories. He could see her laughter reflected in the waves, the warmth of her hand in the wind, the faint hum of her heartbeat woven into the air itself.

“Adrielle,” he whispered. “I know you’re here.”

His voice rippled through the realm, and the world shifted. Suddenly, he was no longer in the forest — he was standing in the old city again. The one that had fallen long before the crown ever chose her. The cobblestones still bore the scorch marks from the night everything burned.

But there she was.

Sitting on the fountain’s edge, barefoot, her silver hair draped over one shoulder. She looked peaceful — until she raised her head and saw him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said softly. Her voice echoed twice, once from her lips, and once from the world itself. “This place isn’t real.”

“I don’t care,” Alex said, stepping closer. “If this is where you are, then it’s real enough.”

She turned away, her fingers tracing the surface of the water — but it wasn’t water. It was memory. Each ripple showed another moment: her laughter, her pain, her fall.

“You think love can fix this?” she murmured. “Alex, I am the veil now. Every broken promise, every forgotten soul… I carry them all.”

“I know,” he said, voice trembling. “And I’m not asking you to let go of them. I’m asking you to remember us.”

The light flickered.

For a heartbeat, the veil hesitated.

Alex reached out — slowly, carefully — and took her hand.

Her skin felt like starlight, fading and returning at once.

“Do you remember the night we first saw the two moons?” he asked. “You said they looked like mirrors of each other — one broken, one whole. You said you’d rather be the broken one, because it reflected more light.”

A tear slid down her cheek, glowing as it fell. “I said that?”

“You did,” he whispered. “And you still are.”

The world trembled. Cracks of light began spreading through the memory — not from destruction, but awakening. Adrielle gasped, clutching his hand tighter.

“I can feel them,” she said. “All of them — the souls, the echoes, the memories. They’re… listening.”

“Then show them,” Alex said gently. “Show them that the veil doesn’t have to forget.”

She closed her eyes.

And for the first time since she became the veil’s chosen, Adrielle stopped fighting. The light around her burst outward — soft, endless, like dawn breaking across time itself.

When she opened her eyes again, the forest had returned. The sky shimmered gold.

She was still part of the veil… but now, the veil felt human.

“Alex,” she whispered. “You found me.”

He smiled faintly, eyes wet. “I never stopped looking.”

And as their hands met beneath the silver sky, the world began to heal — not through power, but through memory that finally remembered love.