Mag-log inWe left just before sunrise, when the streets were still groggy and too tired to care who was slipping through their cracks. Lira clutched her jacket tight like it was armor, and I could tell from the way her eyes kept bouncing around that sleep hadn’t done her any favors.
“Where exactly are we going?” she asked, voice low like we were already being followed. “Grimfall,” I said. “Old sector, near the border.” She froze mid-step. “Grimfall? The place where people go missing?” “Yep. That’s the one.” “And you’re taking me there... why?” “Because that’s where Milo was last seen.” Lira didn’t argue. She just kept walking, her lips tight like she was holding back a scream or a dozen questions. I didn’t blame her. Grimfall wasn’t just dangerous—it was cursed. Once, it was a normal district like any other. Then the war hit. Territory battles, rogue wolves, witches with vendettas. Now it was a cracked-out maze of burnt-out buildings and blood-soaked ground. You didn’t go there unless you were hunting something... or someone. We caught a ride on a cargo tram headed south. The driver didn’t ask questions, just flicked his eyes to my blade and grunted. Good man. It was quiet for most of the ride. Lira kept twisting a strand of her hair, staring out the window like she could see her past waving back at her. I tried not to think about what we’d find. The tram dropped us off three blocks from the edge of Grimfall. From here on out, it was walking only. The streets shifted too much for vehicles to risk it. Barbed wire fences. Abandoned checkpoints. Rusted-out signs that said things like “No Entry Without Clearance” and “Turn Back Now”. Real friendly stuff. “Charming,” Lira muttered. “Wait till you see the welcome committee.” She gave me a look. “You’re joking, right?” I wasn’t. We hadn’t gone three blocks in when we heard it—low growls, like something feral was pacing just behind the walls. I drew my blade, felt the hum of the silver thread through the hilt. Lira stiffened beside me. Then came the sound of claws on metal. “Don’t run,” I whispered. “I wasn’t planning on it.” Two shadows peeled off the alley up ahead. Rogues. Skinny, wired with nerves, eyes too wide to be sane. You could tell they used to be wolves, but the bond was gone. No pack. No anchor. Just hunger. “Back off,” I said, blade raised. One of them sniffed. “Tracker.” “Yeah. And not in the mood.” They didn’t care. One lunged. I moved fast. Slashed low, clipped a tendon. He dropped with a howl, and I spun to face the second one—only to find Lira holding a broken pipe, standing over him with this wild look in her eyes. Damn. Luna had claws. We didn’t stick around. Grimfall didn’t let you win without consequences. We ducked into an old church—half the roof caved in, but the bones of the place were strong. Milo’s last message pinged from here, and my gut said we were close. Inside, it smelled like mildew and ash. I scanned the room, heart thudding. Then I saw it. A satchel. Torn. Bloodied. Lira gasped. “That’s his.” I knelt, brushing dirt off the flap. Inside, a notebook. Pages smeared with ink and blood. I flipped through. “Milo was tracking something,” I murmured. “He wasn’t just hiding. He was looking for proof. About Kael. About the council.” Lira leaned over my shoulder. “Is there anything... about me?” I paused. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “He believed you. He wrote it here. Said if anything happened to him, he hoped someone like me would find you.” Her eyes watered. Not a sob, just silent tears. She wiped them fast. Then something creaked above us. We turned. From the shadows, something big stepped out. Taller than me. Drenched in shadow magic. Eyes burning red like embers. A wraith. Lira grabbed my arm. “What the hell is that?” “A reminder that Grimfall hates visitors.” I threw a hex charm. It fizzled—barely slowed the thing down. It rushed us. We ran. Out the back. Through twisted alleys and skeletal buildings. Lira kept up, which surprised me, but adrenaline is a hell of a motivator. We ducked into a broken train car, panting, hearts racing. “Is it gone?” she asked. I listened. For now. I looked at her. “We need to get out of Grimfall. Now. But we’re not leaving empty-handed.” I held up Milo’s notebook. “This—this is how we burn Kael’s empire down.”The city of Viremont woke as it always did, the first hints of dawn painting the streets in pale gold and muted gray. Smoke from chimneys curled lazily into the sky, and the distant river reflected the morning light, carrying the city’s heartbeat onward. Nothing had changed in any obvious way. Viremont’s streets remained crooked, its alleys still whispered secrets, and the market still buzzed with its chaotic rhythm.But Nora felt the difference immediately.She walked through the streets with her head held high, the faint echo of footsteps on cobblestones grounding her. For the first time in her life, she felt visible, not just in the eyes of the city, but in her own skin. People glanced at her, some with curiosity, some with wariness, some with outright recognition. She had been invisible before. Now, marked by the battles she had endured, the losses she had mourned, and the power she had claimed, she carried a presence that could not be ignored.The pen
The city was quieter than usual, as if it, too, were taking a deep breath after the years of chaos, battles, and shadows. Viremont didn’t change in any obvious way; its streets still curved in unpredictable ways, its lights still flickered in spots that had long been neglected, and the river still carried the faint, melancholy hum of the city’s heartbeat. But to Nora, everything felt different.She walked slowly through the apartment she had reclaimed as her own, a modest place with high windows that overlooked a part of the city slowly coming back to life. The furniture was simple, practical, but comfortable. A life rebuilt piece by piece. And now, standing in the center of the room, she held the small velvet box that contained the pendant. The same pendant that had marked her, changed her, and bore witness to the blood, pain, and fire that had defined the last chapters of her life.Her fingers lingered over the smooth surface of the box, her mind replaying the mo
The night had settled over Viremont like a velvet cloak, heavy and quiet, but not oppressive. Streetlights glimmered faintly in the fog, casting long, uncertain shadows across the cobblestones. The city, though largely healed, still carried whispers of its scars, minor unrest, lingering tension, the quiet hum of lives trying to reclaim normalcy.Nora walked the familiar streets, her steps light but deliberate, her senses alert despite the calm. Kael had insisted she take the evening for herself, but she couldn’t shake a restless unease. Something lingered in the air, something she couldn’t quite name. She had survived so much, yet instinct, honed over years of battles, told her that the night wasn’t quite empty.A rustle behind a corner made her pause. Her hand instinctively brushed the pendant hidden beneath her blouse, feeling its subtle pulse, the reminder of the magic she had endured and contained. A shadow detached itself from the darkness, moving with that un
The first rays of dawn stretched over Viremont, casting long, golden fingers across the rooftops. The city had survived the storms, the battles, the chaos, but it was still a city in recovery. Broken windows were patched, streets that had been scorched were swept clean, and life, resilient, stubborn life, crept back into the alleys and markets.Nora walked through the heart of it all, her steps deliberate, her eyes sharp. The pendant under her blouse was warm against her chest, a quiet heartbeat that reminded her of the battles she had fought and the burdens she carried. There was no fear here, none of the tremor that had accompanied her through the worst nights. Today, she walked as someone who had survived, someone who had learned, someone who had changed.As she passed the marketplace, vendors greeted her with wary smiles. A few nodded in recognition. Whispers followed her path, subtle but undeniable: The woman who faced Evelyn. The one who endured. The survivor
The city of Viremont had begun to settle into a fragile rhythm, the quiet hum of life returning to streets that had been ravaged by turmoil for so long. Buildings that had been scarred by conflict now bore the marks of restoration, walls patched, streets cleaned, windows replaced. But beneath the surface of this recovery, shadows lingered. Not the kind cast by buildings or lamplight, but the ones born of memory and magic.Nora stood at the edge of the riverwalk, where the moonlight danced off the water like silver flames. It had been weeks since the final battle had ended, since Evelyn’s presence had been banished and the Crown’s direct influence neutralized. Yet, every now and then, she felt it, a subtle pull, a whisper in the back of her mind, a reminder of the chaos that had nearly consumed her world.She traced the edge of the pendant she now carried in her pocket, the one from her father’s chest, feeling its faint warmth. It had become more than a relic; it wa
The morning mist lingered over Viremont like a veil, softening the jagged edges of the city as Nora made her way toward the outskirts. The streets were quiet, unusually so, the hum of life reduced to distant echoes. Today was not about the city, nor the fragile peace she had fought to preserve. Today was about her past, threads she had left tangled for far too long.She arrived at an old warehouse that had been abandoned for decades, its brickwork faded and streaked with moss. Kael followed silently, ever the shadow at her side. The warehouse had been a nexus in the early days of the Silver Ash Pack, a place of secrets, betrayals, and beginnings. It was where she had first confronted the truths about her lineage, and it was where answers she had sought for years could still be found.“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kael asked, his voice low, cautious. “Once we step inside, there’s no turning back. Whatever you uncover may not be what you want to see.”







