Nobela ni Sebast

The storm rolled in without warning.By morning, the Bunga skyline was hidden behind sheets of rain and fog. Clouds hung low and thick, choking the sun into a dull gray smear. Rachel stood at the center of Nyra’s ritual chamber, dressed in black training gear, bare feet planted on cool stone. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing calm, but the storm outside mirrored the chaos pressing against the edges of her mind.The First Flame’s final words echoed louder each day.*“Elira was the second.”*There had been another.A predecessor. A first.And Rachel knew one thing: if that woman’s existence had been buried, it wasn’t by accident.Nyra lit the final rune candle, her lips moving in a low chant. Stacy stood at the door, arms folded, not interrupting but not relaxing either. Dylan leaned against the wall, bruised and silent. Since Ashvale, his mood had shifted—protective, but distant, as if he was bracing for something they couldn’t name yet.Rachel opened her eyes.“I’m ready.”Nyra

The journey back to Bunga was quiet.Too quiet.Rachel sat in the back of the armored vehicle, her hand pressed to Dylan’s chest, steadying the healing pulse Nyra had cast over his heart. He hadn’t woken. His skin had warmed slightly, but his breathing remained shallow. She counted every breath like it was a countdown—one she couldn’t afford to lose.Stacy sat across from them, bruised and scraped but alert, her gaze locked on Dylan’s unconscious face. She hadn’t spoken since they left the ruins. Rachel knew why.They’d seen something ancient.Something wrong.And it was awake now.Nyra sat by the rear door, muttering incantations under her breath, casting protective wards over the vehicle as it rolled down the cracked mountain road. Each spell flickered like a shield, a desperate buffer against whatever might still be watching them from the trees.“She took the name ‘The First Flame,’” Rachel said softly, breaking the silence.Stacy looked up. “Do you know who she is?”“Not exactly.

Rachel didn’t sleep that night. Again.The Council’s eyes had followed her out of the stone chamber with suspicion half-tamed and fear barely concealed. Though they hadn’t imprisoned her—or worse—they hadn’t accepted her, either. She wasn’t a threat, not yet, but she wasn’t an ally, and she could feel it in the silence they left behind. A silence that made the back of her neck itch.Now, hours later, she sat by the window of Dylan’s bedroom, curled up in a chair with her legs pulled to her chest, watching the first blush of morning bleed across the skyline. Another sleepless night. Another weight she couldn’t name pressing into her chest.“You ever going to tell me what they really said in there?”Dylan’s voice came from the bed. He hadn’t turned the light on. He didn’t need to.Rachel didn’t turn around. “You already know.”“They think you’re a coin toss.”She nodded. “And they want to know which side I’ll land on when things break.”Dylan stood and crossed the room. He knelt in fron

Rachel stood before the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection—not for vanity, but to make sure she still recognized the face staring back. Her eyes no longer flashed silver. Her aura no longer surged uncontrollably. The storm within had stilled, but that quiet carried its own kind of warning.She pressed a palm to her chest. The bond that once strained her soul felt like a scar now—healed but never forgotten. She wasn’t Elira. But Elira was now, undeniably, a part of her.A soft knock on the door broke the silence.“It’s open,” she called.Stacy entered, holding a tray with toast and Nyra’s herbal tea. “If you skip another meal, Dylan’s gonna drag you to the kitchen himself.”Rachel gave a soft smile. “Thanks.”Stacy set the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “So… you really feel normal again?”Rachel paused. “I feel different. But not unstable.”Stacy studied her carefully. “What does that mean?”“It means I feel like me. Just... upgraded.” She gave a s

The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself. Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence. For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind. And yet, not. ere You’re different,” Stacy said, standing in the doorway. “Even your posture. It’s like you’re still you, but... more.” Rachel opened her eyes slowly. “Because I am.” Stacy walked in, barefoot, cautious. “You said you chose both. What does that mean?” Rachel looked up, meeting her gaze. “It means I didn’t destroy Elira. I accepted her.” “You *what*?” “She’s not whispering in my head anymore. She’s part of me. Not separate.” Stacy sat down across from her. “That sounds... dangerous.” “It is,” Rachel admitted. “But d

The wind outside the penthouse howled like something ancient had awakened. The eclipse was a few hours away. The sky had already begun its transformation—its deep blue turning pale gray, clouds crawling like shadows ready to devour the sun. Inside, the wards pulsed steadily, glowing brighter than usual, reacting to the shift in the air. Rachel sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched tea Nyra had made for her. She hadn’t spoken since waking. Not to Dylan. Not to Stacy. The conversation with Elira echoed in her skull like a warning bell she couldn’t silence. Only one of us survives. She didn’t know what that meant—not really. But every time she blinked, she saw Elira’s face burned into the backs of her eyelids, watched her vanish into cracked sky, felt the weight of a promise she hadn’t made. Stacy sat across from her, arms folded over a book, watching. Not reading. Just there. Waiting. “I don’t like this,” Stacy said quietly. Rachel didn’t respond. Stacy tapped t