Elara's steps echoed through the silent corridors of the crystal tower, her fingers grazing the walls as if trying to draw strength from their cold, pulsating energy. Every part of the structure seemed alive, humming in tune with something vast—something ancient. The tower had revealed itself only to her, rising from beneath the ruins like a sentinel awakened by fate.
But what disturbed her most was not the tower's magic. It was the way Caelum had changed since the attack.
He hadn't spoken more than a few clipped words since they returned. Not even when they discovered that the attack on Elowen wasn't an isolated incident but the beginning of a wave of chaos sweeping across the realms. Villages were burning. Portals were collapsing. Magic was twisting into something unrecognizable.
Caelum stood near the heart of the tower now, bathed in the glow of a suspended glyph—a circle of silver symbols rotating midair, its runes bleeding into one another. His eyes were unfocused, as though he were somewhere far beyond the room.
"You haven't eaten in two days," Elara said gently, walking toward him. "Talk to me."
He didn't turn. "They were looking for you."
Elara stilled. "Who?"
"The ones who attacked Elowen." His voice was hoarse, cracked at the edges. "They were after you, Elara. Not the village. Not the Council. You."
Silence fell like a blade between them.
Elara drew in a sharp breath. "How do you know that?"
Caelum finally turned to her, and his eyes—gods, his eyes—held a grief so old, so bone-deep, it seemed as though he'd lived a thousand years. "Because they said your name. Just before I killed the last of them. They said, 'The Seeker must not awaken the Gate.'"
Elara's mouth went dry. "The Gate? You think they meant this tower?"
"I think you've always been more than you were told. And I think someone—some thing—wants to stop you before you remember who you truly are."
She backed away, her hands trembling. "I don't remember anything. I swear. I only ever wanted a quiet life. I didn't ask for this."
"I know," Caelum said, softer now. "But they don't care what you wanted. They only care what you are."
A gust of wind swept through the chamber, though the windows were sealed. The glyph above them pulsed faster, responding to Elara's rising emotions.
Something inside her stirred. A memory—but not quite. A feeling. Like déjà vu wrapped in cold fire.
"I dreamed of this tower once," she whispered. "Long before I came to Elowen. I was... a child. There were voices calling to me. They said I was the key. But I thought it was just a nightmare."
Caelum walked closer, cautiously. "What else do you remember?"
"Nothing clear. Just… hands made of shadow, trying to pull me into the Gate. A woman's voice calling my name. And a golden mark, burning on my chest."
She pulled down the collar of her shirt instinctively. There it was. Faint, glowing—an eclipse-shaped symbol over her heart. It hadn't been there yesterday.
Caelum swore under his breath. "That's a Binding Sigil."
"A what?"
"Old magic. Forbidden. It binds your soul to something. Or someone."
Elara staggered back. "You think someone owns me?"
"No." Caelum's voice hardened. "But someone once did. And they want you back."
Down in the lower halls of the tower, someone was watching.
A man cloaked in deep emerald, face obscured by a veil of magic, leaned against a pillar carved with runes older than time. He watched Caelum and Elara through a crystal shard hovering in his palm. His smile was thin. Predatory.
"So it begins again," he murmured.
Beside him, a raven shimmered into form, its eyes glowing violet.
"Send word to the Circle. The Seeker has awakened."
The raven cawed once, then vanished in a burst of smoke.
That night, Elara stood alone on one of the upper balconies of the tower, staring at the moonless sky. The stars were strange here—brighter, but eerily static, as if even the heavens feared change.
Caelum approached, quieter than a whisper.
"You should rest," he said.
"I can't." Her voice trembled. "Everything I thought I knew—who I am, where I come from—it's all breaking apart. What if I'm something horrible, Caelum? What if I was the villain in someone else's story and just forgot?"
He leaned beside her, looking out into the starless void. "Memory doesn't define you. Choices do."
"And if I make the wrong one?"
"Then we face it together." His hand found hers, warm and steady.
A long silence.
Then Elara said, "I saw something else. In the dream."
"What?"
"I saw you. But... you weren't you. You were wearing black armor. Your eyes were gold. And you called me by a different name."
Caelum didn't flinch. "What name?"
She hesitated. "Serai."
At that, his hand slipped from hers.
Elara turned to him, heart pounding. "You recognize it."
He stepped back, his face ashen. "You need to sleep."
"Caelum—!"
But he was already gone, vanishing into the tower's shadows.
Far below, in the forest beyond the broken outer gates, something stirred.
From the depths of the earth, a whisper escaped. Not a word, but a name.
Serai.
And in the heart of the crystal tower, the glyph above the central chamber cracked.
Light and shadow leaked from its seams.
The Gate was waking.
And so was what lay beyond it.