Then we kill her are words I repeated in my head long after I said them.The room was quiet, heavy with questions that had not been asked, fears that had gone unspoken. I could practically feel the weight of everyone’s gaze boring down on me—Maxwell’s barely-contained tension, Jameson’s wary curiosity, the cold calculation of Soraya. But above all, I could feel the thing inside me.Watching.Waiting.Maxwell was the first to ring in the silence. “Lena… do you know what that means?”I swallowed hard. “I know exactly what it stands for.”His jaw clenched. “Do you?” He moved in closer, his voice dropping to something gentler, something naked. “Because if she’s inside you, if this thing is tied to you now — how do you separate yourself from her? How do you poison what is tied up in your bones?’”A chill ran down my spine.That’s because I didn’t have an answer to that.Soraya folded her arms, her face inscrutable. “We don’t really know what she wants yet.”Jameson scoffed. “We believe and
What I said just before my tumble bore the heaviness of gravity — a lot of gravity.“She wants me to complete what she started.”No one spoke. No one moved. It was as if speaking it had rearranged something internally, that it had made it real between us.Maxwell didn’t loosen his grip on my arms. If anything he was holding me tighter, as if scared I would slip away. “And what do you want, Lena?” His voice was low, steady — but there was something else under it. Something frayed.I swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”Jameson gave a cruel laugh, one without a trace of real humor. “Well, not quite the answer we were looking for, but hey, at least you’re honest.”I shot him a look. “This isn’t a joke.”His smirk faded. “I know.” His eyes darkened. “That’s why it’s terrifying.”Soraya cocked her head and considered me as if I were a puzzle she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to solve. “She taught you something, didn’t she?”I hesitated. “Yes.”Maxwell tensed beside me. “What did she show you?
A heavy silence settled in the room that lingered.We had a plan — well, the rough outline of one. Find the tethers. Break them. And maybe it saved me. the thing in me is separable.Simple in theory.Impossible in practice.Because none of us knew what would happen if we started messing with the bindings that had contained this thing for centuries. None of us knew if we were letting something far worse out than what the Council had become.But we didn’t have a choice.I pressed a hand to my temple, attempting to forget the associate dull ache that had been developing since I’d tapped into her—the Guardian standing before me. And she was still there, still waiting, curled in the darkest places of my mind, her whispers crashing in and out like a song half-remembered."They betrayed us. They do not merit your mercy.'I clenched my jaw. Not now.Maxwell was looking up at me, his mouth a hard line, his fists squeezing and unsqueezing at his sides, like he was waiting for something — some i
The heavy weight of what I had seen in the vision still followed me. It stuck to my skin like frost, burrowing under my bones, so that every step I took was increasingly loaded and heavier. I knew where the tethers were located. I knew where to go.But to know and to do were two completely different things.We sat in the darkened study, city map laid out before us. Flame flared from a few candles sprinkled along the perimeter of the table, their dim light the only radiance in the chaste place. Maxwell stood with his arms crossed, his jaw set, and Soraya leaned over the map and traced the locations with a gloved finger. Jameson, pacing and tapping his boots impatiently against the hardwood floor.I was at the center of all this, crushing under the weight of expectation.“The ruins,” Soraya said, tapping the first mark on the map. “They’re ancient. Ancient by the standards of the Council itself. If a tether exists, it’s buried deep.”“And the catacombs,” added Jameson. “No surprise. Tha
The first tether was the destroyer, I should have felt lighter.It didn’t.If anything, I’d felt heavier, like something clinging to my spine, tightening its grip with every breath. I could still hear the echo of the scream of the monolith in my skull, vibrating in the vacancy between my ribs.But there was no time to reflect on it.The catacombs were next.We stood peering into the ruins, where the air still crackled with the remnants of violently torn magic. Jameson squatted beside the shattered monolith and ran his fingers over the jagged remains.“Well, that was terrible,” he grumbled. “One down. Two to go.”Maxwell stayed beside me, his hand hovering above my arm as though he was anticipating I’d just fall down. I hated the way he was looking at me — like I was fragile, like I was slipping between his fingers and he couldn’t stop it.I wasn’t fragile.Not yet.The only one who seemed happy was Soraya. She breathed out, shaking her hands as if she could still sense the energy we h
For a moment, silence—a thick, heavy, absolute silence. Not the hush of quiet, but the weight of a thing unseen, watching, waiting.Then, the air shifted.A gust of stale, frigid air traveled down the cramped tunnel, reeking of damp earth and something metallic — old blood, perhaps, or the aftereffects of long-ago death.Instinctively I reached for Maxwell’s hand, our fingertips grazing. He didn’t flinch, only tightened his hold. Solid. Steady. A tether to something real.Soraya muttered a spell, and something like a spark flickered to life in her palm, telling the jagged stone walls of the catacombs. The tunnel ahead was long and winding, and it disappeared into darkness. Old runes had been carved into the walls—some ancient and few, others wearing out over time, others glowing ever so softly, as if the castor still remembered what its purpose was.Jameson let out a low breath. “Well, this is horrifying.”Soraya didn’t look up. “Focus.”“I am focused. I’m just also acknowledging that
It exploded into chaos in the tunnel.As if ink bled through paper, shadows swirled from the stone, coiling into something. They weren’t wraiths. They weren’t even alive.But they were hungry.As one of the figures lunged toward us, its form shimmering in and out of existence, Maxwell shoved me behind him. His sword tore through it, a clean passage — only for the shadow to twist around the blow, reknitting itself in an instant.Jameson swore. “Oh, that’s not fair.”Already Soraya was in motion, her hands weaving spells in the air. An outward pulse of energy slammed into the beasts and pushed them away. The tunnel shuddered with the impact, flakes of rock showering down from the ceiling.“Move!” she snapped.We ran.The catacombs went on forever, with a thick air of something ancient and observing. The shadows poured out behind us, silent but unyielding, their motions unnatural — jerking, skipping along the walls and floor as if they weren’t tied to the same rules as us.I felt them in
"Lena!"But I couldn’t answer.Because I was no longer just Lena.I could feel her.The Guardian.She was no longer just a whisper from the fringes of my mind — she was here, enveloping me, inside me. The crumbled tether had lanced something free, and now here she wasn’t lurking in the shadows.She was taking.“You have resisted me long enough.”Her voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It curdled around my ribs, slid into my bones like it had always been there.I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t rent myself out per you.”She chuckled."Oh, little Guardian. You still believe this is your decision?”A jolt of energy hit me like a gunshot, throwing me off my own balance, warping the air around me. I inhaled sharply, collapsing my hand on my head as visions hit me —Fire.Smoke.A desolate city consumed by darkness. Figures who kneel before a throne carved from bone, their faces raised in awe, in terror. One figure loomed over them all, power twisting around her body like a second skin.Me
For the first time in my life, I felt powerless.The heartbeat beneath the earth had grown faster, stronger, until the ground vibrated constantly, as though the land itself were straining against invisible chains. Around us, the sanctuary’s wards pulsed weakly, flickering like candle flames caught in a hurricane. Every instinct in my body screamed that the Harbinger’s arrival wasn’t the end of the nightmare—it was the beginning.Maxwell stood beside me, staring into the darkness beyond the tents. His face was a perfect mask, but I knew him too well. I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the fear he would never voice unless forced.“We’re not ready for this,” Barin muttered, pacing back and forth. “We built defenses against armies, assassins, the Council’s damn enforcers—but this?” He shook his head violently. “We can’t fight myths, Lena.”“We’re not fighting myths,” I said, my voice hoarse but certain. “We’re fighting the consequences of lies too old to be forgotten.”I
For a long time, no one moved.Lior’s body lay unnaturally still, the black veins receding slowly as if whatever force had animated him had finally burned itself out. The silence pressed into my ears like a physical weight, and all I could hear was the wild hammering of my own heart.Maxwell knelt cautiously, checking Lior’s pulse even though we all knew there would be none. “He’s gone,” he said grimly, standing and wiping his hands on his trousers like he could scrub away what he had just witnessed.I stepped closer to Lior’s body, forcing my legs to obey even as every part of me screamed to turn away. My fingers itched to summon my magic, to scan deeper, but something in my gut warned me against it. Whatever had been buried in Lior, whatever had just been unleashed, it had been old. Purposeful. A ticking time bomb planted within him long before he ever set foot inside our sanctuary.Barin's voice broke the suffocating quiet. “First Door?” he said, his tone raw, full of confusion and
The Seal wasn’t just breaking.It was opening.I could feel it deep inside my chest, pulsing to a rhythm I hadn’t known was mine until now—a calling that wasn’t spoken in words, but written into my bones.Maxwell gripped my arm. “Lena. Talk to me. What’s happening?”I struggled to find my voice. “The Seal... It’s not just a lock. It’s a beacon. It’s been waiting for me. Not to keep it closed—” my throat tightened, “—but to complete it.”Barin burst into the tent, panting hard. “The eastern sentries just reported—cracks. In the ley lines. They’re... bleeding magic. Wild magic.”Bleeding.The word hit harder than it should have. As if something sacred was hemorrhaging, and I could feel every drop slipping away.Maxwell swore under his breath, pacing. “We don’t have time. You have to decide. Now.”But how could I decide?If I answered the call, if I embraced the destiny written into my blood, I risked becoming something else—something not entirely human. Not entirely mine. But if I refus
The silence after the stranger’s departure was deafening.Everyone remained frozen, as if moving might crack the fragile shell of reality he had left behind. The air inside the tent was thick with confusion, suspicion, and fear. Real fear. Not the kind that came from facing enemies you could see, but the kind that crawled inside you when you realized the ground you stood on might not be solid at all.Maxwell was the first to move. He grabbed my elbow, steady but firm. “Lena, what did he mean? What oath? What time are we losing?”I shook my head, though the truth gnawed at the back of my mind like a starving animal. I knew something. Something long buried. But my waking memory refused to yield it.“I don’t know,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.Lior was already pulling on his jacket, moving toward the entrance. “We need to track him. He can't have gotten far.”“No,” I said sharply, stopping him mid-step. “He didn’t come to hide. He came to make sure we heard him. If we chase
The words that hung in the air settled heavily. I looked at Lior, and then at the others in the tent. They were all waiting, no longer with mere curiosity but with the weight of their expectations. What would I do now? Would I continue to walk this fragile line alone, or would I listen?I exhaled sharply, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding in equal measure. He was right in some ways, but the urgency of the hour didn’t leave room for hesitation or second-guessing. Yet, this wasn’t just about me anymore. This was about all of us. About the future we were building—together, or not at all.“I never intended to be the only one making decisions,” I said, my voice more controlled now. “The sanctity of this place was never meant to be mine alone.”Lior raised an eyebrow. “Then why are we here? Why are we sitting here while you lay the foundation with the very hands that will one day destroy it?”“Because I was trying to protect us all,” I responded, my eyes flicking to the others
The word LIAR still smoldered on the earth.Not from magic, but from intention. The burn was too crude, too human. There was no sigil or mystical flair to hide behind. No illusion. Just a raw accusation, left like a scar on sacred ground.Someone hadn’t just defaced the stone—they’d made a statement. And they’d made it here, at the heart of everything we were trying to build.I stood over it for a long time. Too long. I could feel the others watching me—Barin, Maxwell, Elara, even some of the apprentices who had come to help reinforce the foundation wards. They waited for a command, a reaction, anything to show them what I would do now.I didn’t give it to them.Not yet.Because inside me, there was a storm I couldn't afford to unleash—not until I knew where the crack had started.Maxwell stepped closer, voice low. “You think it’s someone inside?”I didn’t look at him. “If it were an outsider, the outer wards would have flared.”He swore under his breath. “Then we’ve been infiltrated.
“You called me reckless,” I continued. “You sent dreams and threats and doppelgängers to test my integrity. And I passed. Not by your standards—but by surviving, intact, through the kind of grief most of you would’ve buried. I faced my worst self and didn’t break.”A pause.“Can any of you say the same?”Silence.Then Elias spoke again, quieter. “And what do you propose, then? A Council of one?”“No,” I said. “A new covenant. Shared authority. A seat at the table for those you’ve excluded. A place where power isn’t feared—but shaped, taught, and trusted.”He didn’t move. “You’re asking us to rewrite centuries.”“I’m telling you,” I said, “they’re already rewriting themselves. You can participate—or you can be left behind.”The room held its breath.Then Elias smiled.It was small. But real.“You’ve grown,” he said. “Far more than we expected.”“I’m just getting started.”The chamber stayed silent for a moment after I spoke those words, but it wasn’t the silence of resistance—it was th
We didn’t wait for permission.By the next morning, the word was already spreading—not as a rumor, but as a declaration. The sanctuary would rise.No more retreating. No more hiding our power behind broken seals and inherited shame. We would build a space tethered to the ley lines, reinforced with intention, rooted in the truth of who we were becoming. And more than that, anyone with power, hunted or not, would be welcome. Not just Guardians. Not just wolves.Everyone.The response was immediate.Some sent their support—ancient names I barely recognized, offering blood, stone, and spell to help raise the walls. Others sent silence. The kind that carried the weight of a thousand threats.But it was the Council that answered first.I had barely finished marking the boundary runes when a crow landed on the stone in front of me. No scroll, no flare of magic. Just a voice—projected, cold and clear—from the bird’s beak."Lena Weber. The Council calls you to stand before the Elders within th
The circle dimmed. The night resumed its breath.Maxwell appeared at the edge of the trees, his eyes wild with concern. He didn’t speak. Just waited.“I’m okay,” I said, voice hoarse.He walked up to me slowly. “You don’t look okay.”“No,” I said, leaning into his chest. “But I know what I’m doing now.”He held me for a long moment. Then asked, “And what’s that?”I looked toward the stars, toward the seal humming faintly in my chest.“I’m going to stop surviving,” I said. “And start building.”Maxwell didn't speak right away. He studied me like he was seeing something different—something unfamiliar but necessary. The kind of change you don't celebrate with cheers, but with silence, because you know it’s real.“Building what?” he asked finally.I let the question hang in the air for a moment. “Something that doesn’t depend on fear. On reaction. On waiting for the next attack. Something rooted in intention. In choice. We keep surviving crisis after crisis, and we forget to imagine what