The devourer froze mid‑step.

Not because of Beast’s roar.

Not because of Elias’s fractured burst of breathlight.

But because the air itself shifted — bending, shimmering, bowing.

A soft glow descended from above, silver at first… then spiraled with gold.

Elira gasped. “What is that?”

Luke’s eyes widened. “No… it can’t be—”

The mist parted.

And Rosalie, Elder of Spiral Memory, drifted down through the trees like moonlight given form. Her silver hair flowed behind her in weightless strands, and her luminous wings unfurled with a soft, radiant hum that made the devourer recoil as if struck.

Elias blinked up at her, breath hitching. “Who…?”

Rosalie’s feet touched the ground without a sound. The Spiral glyph glowed faintly on her palm.

“That echo,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the devourer, “is not truth.”

The creature shrieked — a distorted, broken sound — and its form flickered violently, unable to move under her gaze.

Rosalie turned to the others, voice calm but commanding.

“Elira. Beast. Brinrose. Stand with him.”

Elira didn’t hesitate. She pulled Elias upright, supporting his weight as she guided him forward. Brinrose moved to his other side, her emberlight wings flaring in instinctive protection.

Beast, still half‑dragged by the Spiral rift, forced himself free with a burst of flame and staggered to Elias’s side, placing a steadying hand on the boy’s back.

Rosalie nodded once.

Then she lifted her hand.

“Lirien. Thalwyn. Luke. Lucious. Captain. Form the circle.”

They obeyed instantly, stepping into position around the four of them. The moment the circle closed, the air tightened — not with fear, but with resonance.

Rosalie stepped into the final space, completing the ring.

The Spiral glyph on her palm ignited.

She began to chant.

The words weren’t in any language Elias knew — they were older, deeper, vibrating through the roots and the sky at once. The devourer screamed again, pinned in place by the force of her voice.

Then the moon answered.

A beam of silver‑white light tore through the clouds, striking the center of the circle — striking Beast and Elias, and through them, Brinrose and Elira.

The ground shook.

The air rippled.

Elias’s breathlight exploded in a burst of gold‑silver fire.

Brinrose gasped as her emberlight surged.

Elira’s wings flared with radiant warmth.

Beast’s flame roared upward, brighter than it had ever been.

And Elias—

Elias felt the fracture inside him knit, strengthen, ignite.

His breathlight steadied.

Then grew.

Then blazed.

Rosalie’s voice rose above the storm of power.

“Protectors of Spiral and Loomwake… rise.”

The moonlight didn’t fade.

It deepened.

The beam around Elias and Beast pulsed like a heartbeat, each thrum sending a wave of power through the circle. Elias felt the warmth surge through him, not burning this time, but strengthening — stitching the fracture inside him with threads of silver‑gold fire.

Beast straightened beside him, flame rising in a steady column. His eyes glowed brighter than the Spiral’s roots, the emberlight around him shifting into a deeper, richer gold.

Brinrose gasped as her own wings flared wider, ember‑feathers igniting with radiant sparks. Elira’s breath caught as her light brightened, soft but fierce, wrapping around Elias like a shield.

Rosalie lifted her hands, her voice rising in a final, resonant command.

“Let the Spiral remember its Protectors.”

The moonbeam shattered into a thousand streaks of light.

Each one struck the four at the center — Elias, Beast, Brinrose, Elira — sinking into their skin like falling stars. Elias felt the power settle into his bones, into the rhythm of his breathlight, into the place where the hollow’s mark had once pulsed with pain.

Now it pulsed with strength.

The devourer shrieked.

Its form convulsed, the stolen breathlight flickering wildly as if the Moonstrike burned it from the inside. It staggered backward, claws scraping against the ground, void‑flame sputtering.

Rosalie stepped forward, wings spreading in a slow, deliberate arc.

“You have no claim here,” she said, her voice echoing like a memory spoken by the Spiral itself. “Not on him. Not on any of them.”

The devourer recoiled, its form collapsing inward before reforming in a desperate, unstable shape. It lunged — not at Rosalie, not at Beast, but at Elias, as if drawn to the last remnants of the fracture.

Elias didn’t flinch.

For the first time since the hollow’s attack, he stood without wavering. His breathlight surged outward, meeting the devourer’s void‑flame head‑on.

The impact cracked the air like thunder.

Beast moved instantly, stepping in front of Elias, flame roaring in a protective arc. Brinrose and Elira flanked them, their light merging with his, forming a shield of ember, warmth, and moonlit fire.

The devourer slammed into the barrier — and stopped.

It writhed, shrieking, its form unable to push through the combined resonance.

Rosalie’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Hold it.”

Luke, Lucious, Lirien, Thalwyn, and the Captain tightened the circle, their weapons raised, their stances firm. The Spiral glyph on Rosalie’s palm glowed brighter, casting long shadows across the clearing.

Elias felt the power humming through him, steady and sure. “I can… feel it weakening.”

Beast nodded, flame steady. “Then we end this.”

Rosalie lifted her hand again, the Spiral glyph blazing.

“Protectors,” she said softly, “strike together.”

Elias reached out, placing his hand against Beast’s. Brinrose and Elira mirrored the motion, their light merging with his. The four of them glowed with a single, unified resonance — flame, ember, warmth, and breathlight woven into one.

The devourer screamed.

Rosalie’s wings flared.

“Now.”

The four unleashed their combined power.

Light erupted — gold, silver, ember, and moonfire — slamming into the devourer with the force of a falling star. The creature’s form shattered, breaking apart into fragments of void and stolen light.

It tried to reform.

It couldn’t.

The Moonstrike burned through every echo, every shadow, every stolen spark.

The devourer collapsed inward, shrinking into a single flicker of darkness—

Then vanished.

Silence fell.

The mist stilled.

The roots quieted.

The forest exhaled.

Elias swayed, breathlight dimming back to a steady glow. Beast caught him before he fell, pulling him close with a relieved exhale.

“You did well,” Beast murmured.

Elias leaned into him, exhausted but steady. “We did it.”

Rosalie stepped forward, her wings folding gently behind her. “The devourer is gone,” she said. “But the Memory‑Hallow still lingers.”

The group tensed.

Elias swallowed. “Then… what happens now?”

Rosalie looked at him with ancient, knowing eyes.

“Now,” she said, “we prepare for the echo that remembers everything you fear.”

The clearing dimmed again, the moonlight thinning as if the sky itself were bracing for what came next. Rosalie lowered her hand, the Spiral glyph fading to a soft glow, but her wings remained spread — not in threat, but in warning.

Elias felt the shift before anyone else.

A cold ripple slid across the ground, threading through the roots like a whisper. Not the devourer’s hunger. Something quieter. Older. More patient.

Brinrose stiffened. “That… doesn’t feel like the same creature.”

“It isn’t,” Rosalie said. “This one does not consume. It remembers.”

Elira’s grip tightened on Elias’s arm. “The Memory‑Hallow.”

Luke exhaled slowly, dread settling into his voice. “We weakened it when we broke the devourer’s anchor. Now it’s coming to reclaim what it lost.”

Elias swallowed, the warmth inside him flickering. “It wants the fracture.”

Rosalie nodded. “It wants the moment you broke. The moment you feared. The moment you doubted your own light. It feeds on echoes of pain.”

Elias’s breath hitched. “I don’t want to see that again.”

Beast stepped closer, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “You won’t face it alone.”

The ground trembled.

A thin line of shadow split the earth, stretching outward like a crack in glass. Mist poured from it, not swirling like before, but drifting in slow, deliberate waves. Each tendril carried faint shapes — silhouettes of memories, blurred and shifting.

Elias’s heart pounded. “Those are… mine.”

Rosalie raised her hand, halting him before panic could take hold. “They are echoes, not truths. Remember that.”

The mist thickened, forming a ring around the group. The circle of allies tightened instinctively, weapons raised, wings flared, flame steady. But the Memory‑Hallow didn’t rush them. It didn’t lunge or scream.

It simply… formed.

A figure stepped out of the mist — tall, thin, its body made of layered shadows. Its face was blank, but its eyes glowed with a soft, haunting silver. Not stolen breathlight. Reflected breathlight.

Elias’s breath caught. “It looks like… me.”

The figure tilted its head, mimicking the motion perfectly.

Elira stepped in front of Elias, wings flaring. “Stay back.”

The Memory‑Hallow didn’t move. Instead, its form rippled, shifting into another shape — smaller, curled, trembling.

Elias’s chest tightened. “That’s… when the hollow first touched me.”

The figure flickered again, becoming a silhouette of Elias stumbling in the forest, breathlight dimming, reaching for Beast with shaking hands.

Beast’s flame surged. “Enough.”

The Memory‑Hallow recoiled slightly, but its form didn’t break. Instead, it shifted again — this time into a shape that made Elias’s knees weaken.

A version of him lying still.

Breathlight gone.

Eyes closed.

Elira gasped. “No—Elias, don’t look—”

But he couldn’t look away.

Rosalie stepped forward, her wings casting a protective arc around him. “This is its power. It shows you the endings you fear. The futures you dread. The echoes you carry.”

Elias trembled. “I don’t want to see this.”

“You don’t have to,” Beast said, stepping in front of the image. His flame burned brighter, forcing the shadow to flicker. “You’re not alone anymore.”

The Memory‑Hallow shifted again, this time into a towering shape — a monstrous silhouette with hollowed eyes and a gaping maw. Not the devourer. Something worse.

Elias whispered, “That’s… what I thought it would become. What I thought I would become.”

Rosalie’s voice softened. “Fear is a powerful echo. But it is still only an echo.”

The Memory‑Hallow lunged.

Not at Beast.

Not at Rosalie.

Not at the circle.

It lunged straight for Elias.

Beast moved instantly, flame erupting in a protective arc. Brinrose and Elira flanked him, their light merging with his, forming a barrier of ember and warmth. The Memory‑Hallow slammed into it, its form rippling like water struck by stone.

But it didn’t break.

It seeped.

Shadow tendrils slipped through the cracks, reaching for Elias’s chest, drawn to the fracture that still pulsed beneath the new strength.

Elias gasped as cold seeped into him. “It’s… pulling at my memories.”

Rosalie’s wings snapped open, silver light flooding the clearing. “Hold him!”

Beast wrapped an arm around Elias, anchoring him. Elira pressed her forehead to his temple, whispering steadying breaths. Brinrose gripped his hand, emberlight flowing into his palm.

Rosalie stepped into the center of the circle, Spiral glyph blazing.

“Elias,” she said, voice steady and ancient, “listen to me.”

His eyes fluttered. “I… can’t… it’s too loud…”

“You are not the echo,” Rosalie said. “You are the flame that casts it.”

The Memory‑Hallow shrieked, its form unraveling into a storm of shadows.

Rosalie lifted her hand.

“Protectors — anchor him.”

Beast’s flame surged.

Elira’s warmth wrapped around him.

Brinrose’s emberlight steadied his pulse.

Elias’s breathlight flared—

And the Memory‑Hallow recoiled, its form cracking like glass under pressure.

Rosalie’s eyes glowed.

“Good. Now we break the echo.”

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