She news finally broke.
Lumina's name began to flow from corridor to enchanted hallway, whispered in secret gatherings of mages, through the arcane academies, hidden council rooms, and ancient altars untouched by light.
They spoke her name in murmurs—
A girl of ancient blood.
The lineage that once betrayed the primordial spirits.
An heir that was never meant to exist.
In the highest tower of the northern realm, Archon stood still, watching the snow fall gently. His body unmoving, but his mind raced. He read the ancient documents once more.
Lumina's name appeared on every page—always beside the cursed sigil of the primordial spirits.
"She's alive," he muttered.
And the world will demand repayment for what her ancestors have done.
Lumina's family received the message in silence.
In a cold dining room, her father and mother read the sealed black letter—sent by Archon, the eldest uncle. It contained only one command:
"Stay silent. Reveal nothing. When the time comes, it is you who must end it."
Her mother cried without a sound. Her father lowered his gaze, eyes shut tight.
There was no courage to resist, for to defy Archon was to defy the entire magical council.
Elsewhere, a secret meeting took place.
Archon sat at the center, surrounded by twenty mages. But he chose only seven by name—seven to become the hunters, seven to become his blade.
One of them sat at the far end, cloaked in black without any emblem. He said little, but his eyes held an unextinguished fire.
His name was Raegar.
A Hellseer—not just any, but once the pupil of Enver himself, who had chosen a different path of judgment.
Raegar bowed as his name was called.
"If the girl is truly a vessel, we cannot let her live."
Archon nodded.
"We're not just speaking of a vessel. We speak of an unfinished pact… a curse yet unpaid."
Someone asked,
"Are you certain Lumina hasn't already released the spirit?"
Archon replied quietly,
"Perhaps she has. But we do not know what was exchanged. And that… is far more dangerous."
Meanwhile, Lumina sat at the edge of an ancient cliff, overlooking the astral village.
The wind played with her hair. She could feel the shift. The sky grew heavy. The ground uncertain.
"It has begun, hasn't it?" she whispered to herself.
Ever since she was cast into the Land of the Primordial Spirits—since she freed the one imprisoned—she knew there would be no turning back. But she never imagined the news would spread so swiftly.
She felt something stirring beyond the mist of dimensions.
Not a spirit.
Not Enver.
But something else she once knew.
A magic she remembered from childhood—when Archon had placed her inside the chamber of blood trials.
Lumina clenched her trembling hands.
But this time, she would not run.
In the space between the spirit world and the human, Enver opened his eyes.
He felt the ripple—a small tremor, yet unmistakable:
"Raegar is moving."
Enver did not smile. Nor was he angry. He was simply still. He knew Raegar.
Once, Raegar had wished to purify everything with fire—to burn every spirit, every vessel—regardless of intent.
Now, Raegar was Archon's weapon.
And Archon… hunted Lumina.
Enver rose to his feet. For the first time, his steps felt heavy.
He knew the hunt had not begun.
But the plan had already been written.
And when a plan is written in the blood of one's own family,
Destruction is not a possibility—it is a certainty.
In Archon's hidden chamber, one small object pulsed with light.
A soul map—a device that could only reveal Lumina's location once she began using her true power.
Archon stared at it for a long time.
"Use your power, my niece. And I will find you.
We all will come."
But Archon did not know—
That Lumina had already learned to stop shining,
Even in her darkest hours.
And the plan they had written
Would soon collide with a plan they never saw coming.