Evan stood in the middle of the apartment, hands on his hips, surveying his work. The place was finally coming together. His living room had transformed into a hybrid adventurer's den and tactical command center, with camping gear neatly stored, maps of Velanthor pinned to the walls, and his desk now doubling as a planning station. Everything was ready. Well, almost everything.

  The one missing piece? Lyrin.

  He glanced at his phone out of habit, even though he knew it was useless. Lyrin couldn’t receive texts, couldn’t pick up a phone call, couldn’t even leave him a voicemail telling him to stop worrying. She was on Velanthor, a world that might as well have been light-years away, despite the strange and fragile bridge that connected their lives.

  Evan rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers brushing against the faint scar left by his first encounter with Velanthor’s dangers. He needed to let her know about his decision—to fully commit to Seralith and their mission. But how? He couldn’t exactly send an email or carve a message into a tree and hope she found it.

  Then his eyes drifted to the small meditation corner he’d set up earlier. The soft glow of the candles and the serene expression on the statue of Seralith seemed to call to him, as if daring him to try something new. He hadn’t attempted direct communication with Lyrin before—at least, not intentionally—but he had seen the way her connection to Seralith allowed her to reach him in moments of crisis. Maybe, just maybe, that connection could work in reverse.

  "Alright," he muttered, moving toward the corner and lowering himself onto the rug. "Let’s see if this is a two-way street."

  He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind, focusing on the image of Lyrin: her flowing silver hair, her violet eyes, the way her expression always carried a mix of kindness and quiet strength. He pictured her standing in the temple of Seralith, her staff glowing faintly in the dim light, her robes shifting like moonlight on water.

  "Lyrin," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m... I’m trying. I made my decision. I’ve quit my job here on Earth. I’m all in—on Velanthor, on the mission, on everything we’ve been working toward. I just wanted you to know."

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  For a moment, nothing happened. The apartment was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Evan opened one eye, glancing around. "Okay, this is ridiculous," he muttered. "I’m talking to myself like some—"

  Before he could finish the thought, a faint warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading outward until it felt like the very air around him was vibrating. His eyes flew open, and he saw a soft, golden light emanating from the statue of Seralith. The light pulsed gently, like a heartbeat, and then, as if carried on the wind, he heard her voice.

  "Evan?" Lyrin’s voice was faint, distant, but unmistakable. "Is that... you?"

  His breath caught in his throat. "Lyrin! Yeah, it’s me. Can you hear me?"

  "I can," she said, her tone tinged with wonder. "I didn’t think... I wasn’t sure the connection would work from your side."

  "Me either," Evan admitted, a small laugh escaping him. "But I had to try. I wanted you to know—I quit my job. I’ve decided to commit fully to this. To you, to Seralith, to Velanthor. I’m all in."

  There was a pause on the other end, and Evan imagined her taking in his words, her violet eyes softening with understanding. "That’s... a big decision," she said finally, her voice gentle. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

  "I am," he said firmly. "It wasn’t easy, but it’s the right choice. For me, for Jason, for all of this. I believe in what we’re doing, Lyrin. I believe in you."

  Her voice grew warmer, carrying a hint of emotion. "Thank you, Evan. Your dedication means more than I can say. Velanthor needs you... and so do I."

  Evan felt his chest tighten at her words, a mix of pride and something deeper that he wasn’t ready to name. "Well, I’m not going anywhere. Well, except to Velanthor, obviously. Speaking of which, what’s next? When should I come back?"

  "I’ll send for you soon," she said, her voice steady now, with a touch of her familiar resolve. "There’s much to do, and your presence here will be vital. For now, prepare yourself. Rest. And... thank you for reaching out."

  "Anytime," Evan said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And hey, next time I’m there, remind me to show you the new tent I got. You’re gonna love it."

  He could almost hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "I’ll hold you to that."

  The warmth in his chest began to fade, the golden light dimming until it disappeared entirely, leaving the apartment bathed in its usual soft glow. Evan opened his eyes, exhaling slowly.

  "Well," he said to himself, leaning back against the couch, "I guess that worked."

  For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt... grounded. The path ahead was still uncertain, still filled with challenges he couldn’t yet imagine, but he wasn’t walking it alone. And that made all the difference.