The shadow figure writhes, its form destabilizing as you hold your ground.

“You cannot… destroy me…” it hisses. “I am merely… a messenger…”

“Then deliver this message.” You step closer, the blessed water still dripping from your fingers. “Eldermoor is protected. Whoever sent you—whatever sent you—will find only resistance here.”

The figure laughs. A wet, gurgling sound that makes your stomach turn.

“Protected?” it says. “By what? A dying gem? A council of fools? A child who doesn’t even know their own nature?”

Before you can respond, the shadow convulses. Something falls from its dissolving form—a small object that clatters against the cobblestones.

Then the figure is gone. Not defeated. Retreated. Pulled back by whatever dark will summoned it.

Neve approaches cautiously. “Is it… is it over?”

“For now.”

You kneel to examine what the shadow dropped. It’s a coin. Old. Heavy. The metal is dark, almost black, but when the gem’s light touches it, you see the design clearly.

Four figures, standing in a circle. Their hands joined. Above them, a crystal that might be the Purple Gem.

On the reverse: a single word, etched in a language you don’t recognize but somehow understand.

Founders.

“What is that?” Neve whispers.

“I don’t know.” You pocket the coin. “But I intend to find out.”

The gem pulses overhead. For just a moment, you could swear its light feels… warmer.