The Grand Arcanum loomed over Emberglass like a god carved into stone—tall, cold, and merciless. Within its highest spire, cloaked in spirals of pale mana, Magister Elvren Velisar stared into the depths of his scrying mirror.
The boy had survived.
Elvren's fingers drummed against the armrest of his obsidian throne, eyes narrowing as the mirror replayed the moment—the wolf falling, the rogue mage's death, and the sword glowing faintly in Michael's grip.
Not just a weapon.
A bond.
A soul-bound relic—long extinct. Lost during the Mage-Purge Wars. The Bladebound were all supposed to be dead.
"Summon the Sable Eye," Elvren said quietly.
A steward in black robes bowed and vanished into the shimmering archway. Moments later, a woman stepped in—draped in silver-chained robes, eyes blindfolded, feet bare. Despite her silence, the mana in the chamber darkened.
"You've seen him?" Elvren asked.
The woman nodded. "The boy is not awakened, but the blade chose him. It responds."
"That sword should not exist."
"It does. And worse—it remembers."
Elsewhere...
In a tavern carved into the belly of the city's canyon, a dozen mercenaries gathered around a crackling illusion spell. A hologram of Michael hovered above the table—hooded, lean, a sword across his back.
"Fifty sunmarks?" a scarred woman whistled. "That's a full mage's contract."
"He's got a relic blade," growled a bald man with a serpent brand across his jaw. "And he bled the Black Veil. Arcanum wants him silenced."
Another figure leaned forward, voice low and dangerous. "Then we don't kill him. We take the sword first."
Far beneath Emberglass…
A cloaked figure knelt before a crumbling statue, eyes hidden beneath a hood of ash.
"He returns," the figure whispered. "Bladebound reborn."
A gust of mana swept through the underground shrine, extinguishing the torches.
Another voice—deep and inhuman—echoed across the ruins.
"Then the chains must break again."
Back in the Grand Arcanum, Elvren turned to a second mirror. This one showed Kaela—her face visible in a flash as she handed Michael the bounty scroll.
Elvren's voice turned venomous.
"She knows."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"Send the Whispermages. Track her. And when they find the boy…" He paused, a cruel smile forming. "I want his blade. Still warm from his hands."