Chapter 42 The Black Spark

Fynn POV The forest is a maze of whispers as we stagger toward the outpost, the dawn’s fragile light barely piercing the canopy, casting jagged shadows that seem to move when I’m not looking. My gold light hums, a faint glow under my skin, holding me together, holding *us* together, but it’s unsteady, flickering with every step, as if it knows what I’m hiding. The black flicker—the chaos’s seed, not the well, but its darker kin—pulses in my chest, a secret I can’t voice, a betrayal of the balance I swore to keep. It’s small, a spark, but it’s growing, and every time it stirs, my breath catches, fear clawing up my throat.