Page 71 of Elemental Becoming

“He said, ‘When four stand, a fifth will rise. And the forgotten will awaken.’” I take a breath, then add, “He spoke of something called the Unmaking. Do you know what that is?”

He purses his lips, his gaze moving between us. His expression stays neutral, but his focus in his eyes is unmistakable. Valen taps his fingers once against his forearm before going still.

“Interesting indeed,” he murmurs.

He turns back around, picks up two mugs and offers them out. I take mine, the heat of the ceramic settling into my hands.

Valen lifts his own, then gestures toward the table near the window.

“Let’s sit, enjoy this tea, and discuss.”

His tone is even, almost too calm. But there’s weight beneath it.

And I have the distinct sense that whatever comes next will change everything.

UNMAKING

TEN

“Sylas’s journal says they faced a power so vast, so ruinous, that no path remained but surrender. In a final act of defiance they gave everything: it sounds like they gave their lives to increase the magics that create the protective wards. They named the power only ‘the Unmaking.’ There is a pattern, faint though it is, and ancient echoes are aligning. The pieces are beginning to connect, and with them, a terrible truth.”

—VALEN’S JOURNAL

AMARA

Ifollow Valen to the table, my grip firm around the steaming mug. The scent of the tea fills the air, but it does little to release the tension in my chest.

I take a seat across from him. Valen lowers himself into the chair with a composure that feels out of place at this moment. Thane sits beside me, silent. His fingers curl around his mug, but he doesn’t drink.

Valen lifts his mug, blows lightly across the surface, then takes a sip. When he sets it down, his gaze finds mine.

“The Unmaking,” he says, as if weighing the word.

He taps a finger against the table, thoughtful.

“I found a name for it once. Buried in a journal. It was more like a warning, without much of an explanation.” His gaze flicks to Thane, then back to me. “Sylas also wrote about it.”

The Shadow Butcher.

A name I was raised to fear.

A war criminal. A general of the Shadow Wars. The man the Fire Clan claims drowned cities in darkness, wielded forbidden magics, and commanded the dead.

The man who turned against the Elemental Clans.

Or at least that’s what the Fire Clan archives say about Sylas Veyne.

Finding his journal in the starlit chamber has shaken everything I thought I knew about the realm. The history I was taught, the righteousness of the Clans, even the war that shaped the world—it all suddenly feels as though it was built on quicksand.

The quiet hum of the tea kettle, the faint crackle of the hearth—it all feels distant, muffled against the heavy press of his words.

Thane doesn’t move beside me, but I can feel the tension inhim, sharp and contained.

I force myself to breathe evenly. “What did Sylas say?”

Valen drums his fingers once against the ceramic before going still.

“Not much. And yet . . . everything.”