Rosanna went rigid, panic flashing across her face. Regan's mind reeled. Everything he'd been taught—about Vorraks, about the Veyrathi—was unraveling right in front of him. If what the woman said was true, then, his whole life he had been wrong about the Veyrathis and their wrongdoings.
Cale, barely upright, swayed where he stood.
No vision. No strength.
But there was one thing he hadn't tried.
A memory flickered in his mind—Emis, speaking through his thoughts.
Emis hadn't manifested before him then. He had communicated with Cale using telepathy. If Cale could use that... Maybe, he could turn the tide.
Cale focused.
He drew all the Divine Flow he could muster and channeled it not to his eyes, but to his head. His skull pounded like it was cracking open. A high-pitched ring split through his ears.
Come on... come on...
He didn't know if this would work. Aleric had never mentioned this. Emis had never taught it.
But he had to try.
Blood dripped from his ears. Rosanna noticed and cursed beneath her breath. "Cale, don't you dare do something stupid—"
Emilia raised one hand, a black flame dancing on her fingertip. She pointed it at Cale's head.
"I'll be gentle," she purred.
She stepped forward. Everyone looked at her with dread in their eyes.
And then something slammed into her from behind.
She stumbled forward, caught herself against the stone.
They all looked up.
A boy stood there. Shaky, panting, bruised—but standing.
Iven.
He had struck her with a chunk of broken stone. His small frame trembled, but his eyes were filled with quiet determination.
Everyone froze.
Cale's lips moved silently.
The Yvelin's voice slid into his head like silk.
A pause. Then he continued—
Emis reply was short.
Cale did not know why, but he let out a soft chuckle when he heard Emis saying that. Clearly, the clairvoyant Yvelin had already knew Cale was going to end up needing his help.
Emis continued inside Cale's head.
Cale gulped. He looked at Emilia who was gaining her coherence back and his two horrified friends. On the entrance to the secret room was Iven—the boy who had betrayed him—who looked like he was internally questioning his own actions.
Cale knew—right from the beginning when he first heard of Yvelari—that they always demand a price. Back at the facility, in exchange for Emis' help he agreed to go to Theros. But this time...
If the price is another trip to another place...maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
Cale was weighing his options. Seeing that he was running out of time, he hastily made his choice.
The air around them suddenly shifted.
The room darkened. Not with shadow, but something deeper. A swallowing of light. A ripple of unreality. As if the edges of the world had started to curl inward.
The shadow thickened.
And Emis appeared—not as a cat, not as a trickster—but in a shape Cale had never seen before.
The air inside the hidden chamber thickened as darkness seeped from the corners, tendrils of shadow curling around the room like serpents. Cale felt a pulse ripple through his chest—a signal that something monumental had just begun.
From the dimness, Emis appeared.
Not as the scraggly feline that Cale had grown used to, nor as the aloof voice inside his mind, but as a figure wrapped in shadow. A humanoid silhouette, tall and lean, its edges constantly shifting as if made of ink suspended in water. Where his eyes should have been were glowing slits of mystical blue, and where his feet should have touched the ground, there was nothing present—he floated, untouched by gravity.
Emilia staggered a step back. Her eyes widened, breath hitching in disbelief. "A Yvelin?"
The word trembled from her lips, more sacred curse than recognition.
Emis didn't respond to her directly. Instead, his gaze turned to Cale, who was crumpled behind the rubble with Rosanna and Regan. His voice was nothing like before—not mocking, not sarcastic, but deep, layered, and ancient. A voice that carried the weight of forgotten battles and long-dead kings.
["Take them and leave, Cale,"] Emis said. ["You are not ready for this fight. Not yet."]
As Cale turned to look at his friends, he was stunned. There were blood dripping down from the ears of his two friends. They weren't moving either. So Cale went to them and shook both his friends, desperate.
"C'mon, you two!" He was almost shouting.
Rosanna was quick to get back to her senses, while it took a bit more nudging from Cale to bring Regan to his senses.
"What the..." Regan started, still stunned and focused on Emis.
"We don't have time!" Cale told Regan while forcefully shaking him. Finally, his friend looked like he was starting to get back his senses.
Emilia, recovering from her initial shock, narrowed her eyes. "You're confident, aren't you? For something summoned by a fledgling."
Emis turned to her fully, and the shadows around him thickened, curling like smoke drawn toward a flame. ["I won't need much time."]
A new shape formed in the air beside him: a floating sand timer, sculpted from obsidian and filled with pale, shimmering grains that fell in silence. The moment the first grain dropped, Emilia's face shifted.
Gone was the haughty poise.
In its place—concern. Real, sharp-edged concern.
["One minute,"] Emis said, his voice a thunderous murmur that shook the stones. ["Sixty seconds before your fate is sealed."]
"You can't possibly believe that," Emilia spat, summoning a coil of black flame to her fingertips.
Emis raised a single hand, and the shadow behind him surged. It devoured the torchlight. The air went colder.
Behind the confrontation, Cale, Rosanna, and Regan made their move.
"This way," Cale hissed, holding his side as he guided them through the busted wall. His legs threatened to collapse, his vision swam, and still he pressed forward. He dared one last glance over his shoulder.
Emis had not moved an inch. But his presence had swallowed the chamber whole.
["She thinks this is about power,"] Emis said to Emilia, as the final grain of sand in the top half began to tremble. ["But what I'm best at…"]
He raised his arm. The shadow extended like a lance.
["...is certainty."]
Then he struck.