Chapter 303: Complications
Eldur’s POV
I had never been more careful with anything in my life—not even my own cursed heart. But as I held the enchanted urn in my arms, cradling Margaret’s ashes like something sacred, I knew the stakes weren’t just mine anymore.
They were Nova’s.
They were everything.
Mai and Ollie stood to my left, quiet for once. The sky above was bruised with the colors of twilight—purple clouds stretched like torn silk, the moon peeking shyly behind them. The air hummed with magic and memory. I could feel Aethros pacing within me, silent, tense, hopeful.
"Elizabeth, we’ve got it," I sent through the mind link, my thoughts sharp and steady.
Her voice came back almost instantly, calm but laced with urgency. "I’m at the cottage. Bring the urn. I’ll be waiting."
"Got it," I replied, already moving. My family followed quickly as I informed them where Elizabeth asked to meet.
We all stood at the edge of Elizabeth’s magic cottage—the one tucked deep beyond the shattered grove, past the stones that murmured ancient names when the wind dared to stir them. Whenever she returned to the valley, this was her sacred ground. She claimed the air here pulsed with stronger magic, like the land itself remembered spells from a forgotten age. Her cottage always smelled like wild herbs, stardust, and books too old for history to remember.
The door creaked open before I knocked.
"You brought her," Elizabeth said, her voice low and wise, eyes glowing with the kind of knowledge I’d never trust in anyone else.