“I will bring you home.”

The words left Dan Heng’s lips like a vow carved into the marrow of the world.

He stood beneath the burnished sky, the sun spilling gold across the ruined plains. Wind tugged at his hair. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he pressed a trembling hand over his heart — where the coreflame pulsed, fierce and alive, its rhythm now one with his own. Terravox’s essence—Earth’s very breath—burned within him, grounding him, guiding him.

He had taken it for one reason only. To find you.

Evernight had hidden you away, sealed you from light and memory, as if the world itself had forgotten your name. But Dan Heng hadn’t. Not for a moment.

He wandered across continents as the seasons shifted—summer’s heat giving way to the brittle whispers of winter, blossoms fading into frost. He traversed valleys that once sang with rivers now long silenced, spoke with shepherds and wanderers who told stories of shadows and stars, and listened to the Earth’s heartbeat in every trembling leaf. Each face he met, each whisper of wind, he searched for you within it.

And still, nothing.

He crossed the nameless barrens beneath a sky stripped of constellations. He followed the roots of Cerces, those ancient tendrils of life that twisted deep through soil and stone. Sometimes, he would pause beneath the twilight sky and close his eyes, feeling the Earth breathe beneath his boots, and wonder, When can I lead you out of this maze?

But it wasn’t until exhaustion dulled his sight that realization struck him.

He would never find you with his eyes alone.

So he stopped searching outward—and turned inward.

In the quiet stillness between heartbeats, visions began to stir: laughter echoing, the moments you shared in the train's parlor car, your voice—soft, radiant, alive—calling his name. Each memory flared like a lantern in the dark, and between them all, a faint glimmer shimmered—delicate yet unbreakable. A single thread of fate.

It wound itself around him, tugging gently, insistently, pulling him through the vast sea of shadow.

He followed it.

The darkness howled and twisted, trying to swallow him whole. But the coreflame within his chest blazed brighter, burning through the void until his outstretched hand met yours—cold, trembling, real.

And with every ounce of strength he had left, Dan Heng pulled.

Light erupted around you both, flooding the endless night with warmth.

When his vision cleared, you were there before him—eyes wide, breath trembling, the same and yet impossibly changed. For a heartbeat, he simply stared, unable to breathe, afraid that if he blinked, you would fade once more into myth.

Then, his voice broke the silence.

“Finally…” He reached out, fingers shaking, then stopped halfway, letting the distance linger between you. A fragile smile tugged at his lips, weighted with exhaustion and quiet wonder. “I’ve found you.”

The light reflected in his eyes wasn’t just the sun—it was you, mirrored there, whole and home again.