The ethereal bells of the Institute rang three times at dawn, a soft melody that spread through all the halls and gardens, signaling that this would be no ordinary day.
Alana woke up with the feeling that something was about to change. The stone around her neck pulsed lightly, as if sensing something on the horizon.
In the dining hall, the murmuring was widespread. Everyone was talking about a special summons from Headmistress Nymira — something rare, especially so early in the academic cycle.
Kael and Lira found her by the stained glass window of the Hall of Clouds. Kael looked more electric than usual, his hair messy as if he'd sprinted straight from bed.
"I heard some students are leaving the Institute," he said, almost breathless. "Recon missions in the Veil. And you're on the list."
"What do you mean?" Alana frowned. "Leaving the Institute? Now?"
"Not just you," Lira added, her expression more serious. "We were called too. And it wasn't by chance."
Soon after, the three of them were taken to the Crystal Chamber, where the headmistress awaited alongside Maeria, Lysander, and a third professor Alana hadn't seen before. He had a severe expression, eyes as dark as pitch, and wore a cloak almost invisible — as if made of smoke and silence.
"This is Professor Corven," Nymira introduced. "Instructor of the Shadow Sector. He will accompany you on a mission beyond the borders of Aetheris."
Alana felt a chill, and she wasn't the only one. Lira planted her feet firmly. Kael only nodded — but without his usual enthusiasm.
"There's a rupture in the Veil, near the Arch of Mists," the headmistress continued. "An ancient energy has been detected there. We want to know if it's connected to your presence here, Alana."
Corven stepped forward, his voice low but razor-sharp:
"This is not a training expedition. There is real risk. But also a chance to understand what has drawn the Primordial Magic back into this world."
Alana hesitated. Her mind screamed for safety, for stillness. But her heart — and the stone on her chest — seemed to pulse toward the unknown.
"I accept," she said, with resolve.
"So do we," Kael and Lira said almost in unison.
The headmistress nodded.
"You will depart at dusk. Prepare yourselves."
---
Dusk arrived faster than Alana expected.
Clad in an enchanted cloak woven with protective threads and the Institute's crest embroidered on her shoulder, she waited before the Wind Gate, where magical currents twisted together like glowing serpents. Kael adjusted a satchel full of improvised artifacts — light crystals, rune seals, a dagger he insisted on carrying "just in case." Lira stood calmly, though her eyes were sharp, scanning every detail around them.
Professor Corven was the last to arrive, appearing literally from the shadow cast by one of the columns.
"Don't stray. And don't speak to what doesn't breathe."
Before they could ask what that meant, he traced a symbol in the air. The portal opened with a sound like paper tearing underwater — a circular passage of dark mist and distorted reflections.
Alana swallowed hard, but stepped through first.
---
The Arch of Mists was a hidden valley, surrounded by hills draped in dense fog that never lifted with the wind. The vegetation seemed frozen in time: flowers that never bloomed, trees growing inward as if avoiding the light.
"Something here is... sleeping," Lira murmured, palm pressed to the ground. "But it dreams loudly."
"That makes no sense," Kael replied quietly. "Yet I agree."
Corven led them to a clearing where ancient markings were carved into stone. Alana recognized the patterns — similar to those that had appeared in her room the day everything began.
She stepped closer. The stone on her chest began to glow.
And then, the world trembled.
From the ground, a fissure opened, and dark mist rose slowly, taking the shape of a humanoid figure. Faceless, fleshless — only eyes made of absence.
Kael launched a containment seal that burst into sparks. Lira spun her hands, forming ice thorns around the group. Alana, however, remained still — paralyzed by something that wasn't fear, but… recognition.
The shadow seemed to look directly at her.
"It's her..." the creature whispered, with a voice that shouldn't exist. "The daughter of light... the forgotten blood... the Heir of the Fracture..."
Corven stepped between them and the shadow, his presence imposing silence.
"Back," he ordered, snapping his fingers.
Black flames rose from the ground, consuming the creature in seconds. But before it vanished, it murmured:
"We are awakening... and she is the spark..."
---
Hours later, back at the Institute, Alana couldn't sleep. The weight of those words echoed within her. Heir of the Fracture. Forgotten blood.
Kael and Lira were with her on the Observatory's terrace, each holding a steaming cup of dream tea.
"If you really are 'the spark'..." Kael began.
"...then we're standing right in the middle of the fire," Lira finished.
Alana smiled — tired, but grateful.
"And you chose to stay in the flames with me?"
Kael shrugged.
"You saved us from Advanced Runes class with old Kyrell. Of course we did."
"Besides," Lira added with a faint smile, "you're not facing this alone."
The stone around Alana's neck glowed softly.
Far on the horizon, beyond the Institute's towers, the mist stirred.
And something ancient had, indeed, awakened.