Page 88 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Kaldrek leaned forward. “And the Noskari?”

Corvin’s expression darkened. “The veil was made to mislead Vaelora herself, not the corruption she had already let loose.”

“Yes, my love,” Mireya said, “but the Noskari were born of that corruption. Perhaps the veil might keep them at bay, or even drive them from these lands in time—though if the prophecy has been fulfilled, it may already be fading.”

A quiet voice came from farther down the table.

“No. Lord Corvin is right. It will neither destroy them nor keep them away.”

Everyone turned to Alia. She looked up slowly.

“It may hinder them,” she said, weighing each word, “but it will not stop them. The veil cannot erase what has already taken root.”

Alaric noticed Cillian watching Alia closely, then turned back to Lord Corvin. “And what of the families who have preserved this knowledge?”

“The Duskwoods carry the bloodline tied to the prophecy itself,” Corvin said.

Mireya nodded. “And your family, Mr. Stonebridge, has long been their closest ally.”

“Trade routes,” Corvin said. “Political influence. Eyes beyond Velenshire.”

“And a rather gifted seer in the family,” Mireya added.

Alaric stiffened. “What?”

“You did not know?” Mireya smiled. “Perhaps you ought to speak with your mother.”

Corvin continued as though nothing of consequence had just been revealed. “Our own duty has been simpler.” He gestured outward. “This estate was built around the Solwyn Grove. The orchard you passed through tonight was planted generations ago to conceal it.”

“Most visitors believe we simply grow exceptional fruit,” Mireya said.

“You do,” Alia murmured, her eyes drifting toward the windows again. “The soil here is unusually fertile.”

Mireya tilted her head. “Yes… it is.”

“Because the tree feeds the land,” Alia said, as if this were common knowledge.

“And the witches? How have they been tied into all of this?” Evelyne asked.

“The Hallowell covens help guard the tree,” Corvin said. “They are also the reason the enchanted map exists. I trust it proved useful on your journey, Mr. Stonebridge?”

Alaric instinctively touched the pocket where the map rested.

“As you may recall, it darkens whenever blood magic draws near,” Corvin said. “It is the only warning we have.”

“And the prophecy?” Kaldrek asked.

Corvin’s gaze shifted slowly to Cillian. “The Great Rite chose a single soul.”

Cillian went still.

“The Bringer of Light,” Mireya said softly. “The one destined to purge Vaelora’s darkness from this world.”

Corvin’s voice lowered. “That soul is yours.”

Silence settled over the table. Cillian looked down at his hands. Alia watched him, her expression holding something almost like recognition.

“Yes,” she said in a hushed voice. “That would make sense.”