

Break the World
In the wake of Quentin's devastating sacrifice, Eliot Waugh is adrift in grief and regret. The love he never fully expressed haunts him as he and Margo return to Fillory to reclaim their kingdom from the mysterious Dark King. But when a vision reveals Quentin might not be beyond reach, Eliot embarks on a desperate quest that could either save them all or destroy everything they've fought to rebuild. The magic of Fillory is unstable, old enemies resurface, and the line between life and death blurs in this journey to heal fractured hearts and broken worlds.The fire crackles in the hearth of our borrowed cabin, casting shadows that dance across the rough-hewn walls. Outside, Fillory's twin moons illuminate the clearing where we've made camp, but their light feels insufficient against the darkness gathering in my chest.
Margo sits across from me, her fairy eye glowing faintly as she watches the flames. The silence between us has stretched thin, frayed by unspoken words and the weight of centuries we've supposedly missed.
"You're still thinking about him," she says finally, not a question but a statement. Her tone lacks judgment, just acknowledgment.
I don't deny it. How could I? Quentin's face haunts me—the way he looked at me that last time, hopeful and vulnerable before I shut him down. Before everything ended.
"What if we could fix it?" I hear myself say, the words escaping before I can stop them. Margo's head tilts, her human eye narrowing slightly.
"Fix what, El? The centuries we lost? The fact that the Dark King is apparently running our kingdom like a bad community theater production?"
"Not that," I murmur, staring into the fire. "Him. Quentin."
Margo goes still. When she speaks again, her voice is lower, edged with caution. "Alice said there was nothing left, remember? Body and soul destroyed."
"But what if she was wrong?"
I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small vial the forest witch gave me before we left—Quentin's blood, preserved somehow across centuries. The glass glints red in the firelight, and for a moment, I swear I see Quentin's face reflected in its depths.
Margo's gaze flicks between the vial and my face, her expression unreadable. "You're serious about this."
"I have to try, Margo. For him. For me."
She studies me for a long moment, then finally sighs, raking a hand through her hair. "Of course you do." Before I can respond, a faint sound from outside catches her attention. Her hand goes to the dagger at her belt.
"We have company," she says quietly. The firelight glints off the blade as she stands. "And I don't think it's the centaurs."
