Into The Sanctum

The air in the sanctum was heavy with age-old magic. The walls pulsed softly with a bluish hue, the ancient runes carved into the stone flickering to life as Althea stepped forward, Cassian and Xanden flanking her. Their bond shimmered between them—visible now, like a thread of starlight braided with their energies.

But just as her foot crossed the inner threshold of the deeper chamber, the magic stuttered.

The runes flared—then died.

All three froze.

From behind them, a deafening clack echoed as the sanctum doors slammed shut on their own. Seals flared across the entrance, ancient and binding. They were locked in.

Cassian drew his blade instinctively. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Althea turned slowly, eyes narrowed. “This chamber was designed to test the blood of the first lines. Only the worthy are meant to pass.”

Xanden stepped forward, brows drawn. “Unless someone… rewrote the rules.”

And that’s when they heard it—a low hiss, like a serpent slithering across marble.

From the shadows near the sanctum’s core, a figure emerged.

Not just a shadow, but a face Althea hadn’t seen in years.

Her mother.

Or rather, what used to be her.

Lady Evelyne Valenhart, once exiled and presumed long-dead, stood cloaked in dark ceremonial robes, her eyes glowing with a corrupted kind of power. Lines of power—twisted and unnatural—ran down her arms like veins of obsidian.

“You were never meant to survive the bond,” Evelyne said, her voice cold and edged with something not wholly human. “And now you walk into the last place your magic should’ve touched.”

Althea’s heart thundered. “You’re supposed to be—”

“Dead?” Evelyne stepped into full view. “No, child. I was just… waiting. Watching. And now that the bond is complete, now that your bloodline has bloomed to its full potential… I finally have what I need to finish what I started.”

Cassian surged forward, weapon raised, but Evelyne lifted a single hand and froze him mid-step, wrapped in magical restraint.

“I’m not here to kill her,” she whispered. “Not yet. I’m here to unmake the sanctum. And I’m the only one who knows how.”

The chamber shook beneath them.

Something ancient was waking—not just a test, but a seal. One Althea’s mother had long planned to break.

And Althea, bonded and newly awakened in power, might be the only thing standing in her way.

Years Ago — The Outer Courts of Aeryndor

Evelyne Valenhart stood alone before the High Council, her emerald robes darkened with ash and blood. The once-favored daughter of the Valenhart line, First Enchantress of the Crown, had been reduced to nothing but a ghost of scandal—betrayer, heretic, consort of forbidden power.

“You delved too far,” the High Keeper spat, slamming the butt of his staff against the polished marble floor. “You bound yourself to shadows that were buried for a reason.”

Evelyne’s chin lifted. She looked younger then—barely past thirty—but the fire in her eyes burned with dangerous clarity. “I didn’t bind myself to them. I learned them. We seal what we fear. We destroy what we do not understand. And we wonder why the same wars keep repeating.”

The council murmured in agitation.

“You channeled Noxian fire, Evelyne,” another councilor said, his voice trembling. “You summoned it to bend fate.”

“I summoned it to save my daughter.”

Gasps rang out like claps of thunder.

“She was born too soon,” Evelyne continued, her voice breaking for just a second before sharpening again. “She was dying. And no power within the Circle would save her.”

The High Keeper narrowed his eyes. “But the power beneath it could.”

Evelyne said nothing.

She didn’t need to.

The judgment had already been carved before the trial began.

She was sentenced to exile, stripped of her titles, and cast beyond the warded borders of the known realm. Most assumed she died, eaten by the very shadows she once called upon.

They were wrong.

⸻

Present Day — The Inner Sanctum

Evelyne’s eyes glittered as she watched her daughter’s reaction. “You were always meant to live. I carved your survival out of fate itself. But I paid a price for that magic.”

Althea stood still, her breath shallow. “You knew you’d be exiled. You gave me life and abandoned me to a war.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Evelyne said softly. “I prepared a path. The bond with Cassian. The alliance with the Arkhari line. You think the prophecy fulfilled itself?”

She took a step forward, hand outstretched.

“I pulled every string. I whispered in forgotten tombs. I turned the broken wards beneath the sanctum into doorways. And when the council buried me, I burrowed deeper—until I became the sanctum’s shadow.”

Cassian stirred behind her, still frozen by Evelyne’s magic, face contorted with fury.

“You controlled our lives,” Althea whispered. “You built all this so you could come back?”

Evelyne’s smile twisted, not cruel, but heartbreakingly certain.

“No. I built this so you could survive what’s coming.”

The room shuddered again—more violently this time.

From the deepest chamber behind her, something massive stirred. A sealed vault door slowly unlatched with a click, ancient runes turning red.

“You thought the council was the greatest power in the realm,” Evelyne said. “But the true enemy… the one that burned the old world… it never left.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I saw it. I heard it. And I bargained with it.”

Althea stepped back, trembling.

“What did you release?”

Evelyne’s smile was full of sorrow.

“Not what. Who.”