Vigil: The First Mission
The world watched, but the world did not yet understand.
As Ridgefall began its rise from ruin, the newly formed Vigil did not wait. They had no time to bask in survival. There were already signs—fractured skies in the far south, a rain of ash over the Sable Isles, and worst of all, a silence from places that had always sung with magic. The balance was not just tipping—it was unraveling.
Alaric stood in the Vigil's central war hall, once a ruined fortress beneath Ridgefall, now a hive of whispered plans and sleepless resolve. Maps cluttered the walls. Lanterns pulsed with wardlight. The blade he had forged during the final confrontation hung behind him—no longer just a weapon, but a reminder.
Across from him stood Mira, cloaked in the robes of a dreamseer, her fingers stained with starlight ink. She didn't speak often now unless it mattered—what she saw in the dreamline was becoming more chaotic by the day. Sometimes she didn't sleep at all, afraid her soul wouldn't return.
"We found something," she said at last. "In the ruins near Hollowdeep. Caelen sent a shadow-spell through the chasm. It came back screaming."
Alaric didn't flinch. "A Guardian?"
"No. A Gate."
He stepped closer. "You're sure?"
"I saw it in the dream. Stone shaped like a wolf's jaw. Carvings in a language I didn't know. Something bound behind it. Old."
Alaric turned to the others. Ser Tova gripped her sword's hilt tightly. Anden, ever silent, held a shard of mirrored bone against his temple, listening. Rylth stared into a basin of blood and starlight.
"This is our moment," Alaric said. "The Vigil exists for this. We move in two nights."
"But it's not just a gate," Mira added, quieter. "It's a test. The First left it behind. To see who would open it… and why."
They set out under cover of twilight. Caelen joined them at the river crossing—his fire under control now, dancing like a sentient guardian on his palms. They crossed through villages that offered tribute to Alaric in hushed awe. To Mira, they offered tokens of protection: dreamcharms, fragments of moon-blessed glass.
But when they reached Hollowdeep, they found no welcome. Only stone. And silence.
The Gate was buried in the mountain's hollow, half-eaten by roots that bled gold sap when cut. The carvings pulsed faintly when Mira touched them. And then—one word echoed in her mind.
"Choose."
Suddenly, the Gate twisted open, not with sound, but with absence. A void split the air. Caelen reeled. Ser Tova raised her sword. Alaric stepped through.
And they found themselves not underground—but in a landscape made of broken moments. Memories twisted into geography. Shadows of things that never were. A battlefield shaped like a heartbeat. Trees with eyes.
"What is this?" Anden whispered.
Mira trembled. "A Forge of Echoes. Where the Spiral was first shaped."
It was there they saw them—echoes of others who had tried and failed. Ancient Vigilants. One wore a mask shaped like a crescent. Another had eyes of blue fire. All faded. All trapped.
And the voice returned:
"Why do you resist what must be?"
Alaric answered without hesitation. "Because choice matters. And we will fight for it."
The Gate began to crack. The ground split. From the void rose a shape—humanoid, vast, its body made of glass and prophecy.
A Harbinger.
The battle was unlike any before. The Harbinger fought with memory itself, forcing each Vigilant to face their greatest failures. Caelen was nearly lost to the memory of what he'd burned. Mira screamed through a nightmare where Alaric died a hundred ways. And Alaric—he faced the Woman again.
But this time, he did not fight alone.
Their unity, their belief in each other, shattered the Harbinger's form. Not by strength. But by refusal. Refusal to accept that fate was final.
The Gate collapsed behind them. The forge vanished. But each carried something back.
Alaric, a shard of the Harbinger's heart—still pulsing.
Mira, a dreammark upon her palm that whispered in the tongues of the First.
Caelen, a memory that didn't belong to him—but showed a future where the Spiral won.
The Vigil had passed its first test.
But the Spiral had opened its eye.
And the war for tomorrow had just begun.