Chapter Two
The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when the knock came.
Christopher paused mid-step, his hand still holding Isabella's birthday crown—a delicate ring of daisies and ribbon. Ariel froze too, her eyes narrowing. No one ever came to their cottage unannounced. Not here. Not in Alem.
He opened the door cautiously.
A figure stood cloaked in black, hood drawn low, rain dripping from the edges of their leather jacket. A Guardian.
Christopher's breath caught. Ariel stepped forward, her voice barely a whisper. "Aurora?"
The figure nodded once and handed over a note, the wax bearing the sigil of Caelum—a pair of wings crossed by a sword.
"She sends this," the Guardian said. "And she says it cannot wait."
Then, without another word, the figure vanished into the trees.
Christopher broke the seal with trembling fingers. Ariel leaned in, reading over his shoulder.
Christopher and Ariel,The dreams have returned. Fire. Death. And Isabella at the center of it all.She is no longer hidden. Her powers are awakening. The veil is thinning.You must come home.We cannot protect her from there.—Aurora
Ariel's hand flew to her mouth. Christopher closed his eyes, the weight of the message pressing down like stone.
They had hoped for more time. But time was no longer theirs.
They both recalled the prophecy:
It had been spoken in the Hall of Echoes, beneath the great dome of Caelum, where the stars themselves seemed to listen.
Aurora had stood before the Council, her voice steady, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"The child born of two rulers," she had said, "will carry the gifts of both bloodlines. She will be stronger than any Guardian before her. She will be the balance—and the storm."
The chamber had fallen silent.
"She will be hunted," Aurora continued. "Feared. Desired. Her power will draw both light and shadow. And if she falls into the wrong hands, the veil between worlds will tear."
Christopher had clenched his fists. Ariel had wept.
They had begged for a way out. A way to protect their unborn daughter from the weight of destiny.
Aurora had offered only one path: exile. To leave Caelum. To live among humans. To raise Isabella in peace, far from prophecy and war.
But even then, they had known the truth.
"You can hide her," Aurora had said, "but only for a time. The prophecy will find her. And when it does, she must be ready."
Back in the cottage, Christopher and Ariel stood in silence, the parchment trembling in Christopher's hand.
Isabella slept peacefully in her room, her music box playing its gentle tune.
They would tell her soon. They would prepare her.
But tonight, they would hold her close.
Because the prophecy had awakened.
And the storm was coming.
The cottage was silent, wrapped in the hush of early dawn. Outside, the lake lay still beneath a blanket of mist, and the trees stood motionless, as if holding their breath. But inside, Isabella's heart thundered in her chest.
She sat up abruptly, her tiny hands clutching the edge of her quilt. The room was dark, but not the kind of dark that felt sleepy or safe. Something was wrong. She didn't know what had woken her—only that it wasn't a sound, but a feeling. A pulse of fear. A whisper in her bones.
Her breath came fast. Her eyes darted to the window, where the moon hung low and pale. The shadows seemed deeper tonight. The air heavier.
She threw off her covers and leapt from bed, her feet barely touching the floor as she bolted down the hallway.
"Mommy! Daddy!" she cried, her voice trembling. "I'm scared!"
Christopher and Ariel were already awake. The message from Aurora lay open on the bedside table, its words still echoing in their minds. They had barely slept, their thoughts tangled in dread and decision.
Ariel rushed to the doorway just as Isabella burst in, her curls wild, her eyes wide with panic.
Christopher scooped her into his arms, holding her close. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe. We're right here."
Isabella clung to him, her small body shaking. "I had a bad feeling," she whispered. "Like something was watching me."
Ariel exchanged a glance with Christopher—one filled with fear and certainty. The veil was thinning. Isabella's instincts were sharpening. Her powers were stirring.
They had hoped for more time.
Ariel sat beside them, brushing Isabella's hair from her face. "You're safe now," she said gently. "It was just a dream."
But they both knew it wasn't.
Outside, the mist thickened. And somewhere far beyond the trees, something stirred.
The stars blinked softly above the lake, their reflections shimmering on the water's surface like scattered diamonds. The cottage was quiet now. Isabella sat curled between her parents on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket, her music box resting in her lap.
She hadn't gone back to sleep after waking in fear. Something inside her still trembled, though she couldn't explain why. She only knew that tonight felt different. Heavy. Important.
Christopher looked down at her, his arm around her small shoulders. Ariel took a deep breath, her fingers laced tightly in her lap.
"Sweetheart," Christopher began gently, "there's something we need to tell you."
Isabella looked up, her eyes wide and curious. "Is it about the dream?"
Ariel nodded. "Yes. And about who you are."
Isabella tilted her head. "I'm just me."
"You are," Ariel said, brushing a curl from her daughter's forehead. "But you're also more."
Christopher leaned forward, his voice low and steady. "We used to live in a place called Caelum. A city hidden high in the mountains, where people like us—Guardians—live."
"Guardians?" Isabella echoed.
"We're… different," Ariel said. "We were born with gifts. Powers. And we were sent to Earth to protect it, to keep balance."
Isabella's eyes widened. "Like magic?"
"Something like that," Christopher said with a soft smile. "You have it too. That's why the lake ripples when you sing. Why animals come to you. Why you feel things before they happen."
Isabella looked down at her hands, then back at them. "But I'm just a kid."
"You are," Ariel said, her voice trembling. "But you're also part of something bigger. There's a prophecy, Isabella. It says that the daughter of Caelum's rulers will be the strongest Guardian of all. That she'll be hunted by those who fear her power."
Isabella's lip quivered. "Hunted?"
Christopher pulled her close. "We left Caelum to protect you. To give you a normal life. But your powers are waking up. And that means others might start looking for you."
"But I didn't do anything wrong," she whispered.
"No," Ariel said, tears in her eyes. "You didn't. You're good. You're kind. You're everything we hoped you'd be."
Isabella was quiet for a long moment. Then she looked up at the stars.
"Do I have to go there? To Caelum?"
Christopher and Ariel exchanged a glance. "Not yet," he said. "But soon. We'll go together. We'll make sure you're safe. And we'll help you learn what you can do."
Isabella nodded slowly, her small face set with quiet strength.
"Okay," she said. "But can I still have cupcakes tomorrow?"
Ariel laughed through her tears. "As many as you want."
The porch swing creaked gently beneath their weight, swaying in rhythm with the night breeze. Christopher held Isabella close, her head resting against his chest, while Ariel wrapped the blanket tighter around them all. The stars above blinked softly, and the lake shimmered with quiet grace.
But in the trees beyond the yard, something moved.
A shadow—tall, still, watching.
The figure stood just beyond the reach of the moonlight, cloaked in black, hood drawn low. Rain dripped from the leaves above, but the figure did not flinch. It had been waiting. Watching. And now, it was time.
Ariel's breath caught. She felt it before she saw it—a shift in the air, a ripple in the quiet. Her eyes darted to the edge of the woods.
Christopher followed her gaze. His body tensed.
Isabella stirred. "Daddy?"
He didn't answer. He rose slowly, placing her gently in Ariel's arms. "Stay here," he said, his voice low.
But the figure stepped forward.
"No need," it said, voice calm and resonant. "I've come for her."
Ariel stood, shielding Isabella instinctively. "She's just a child."
"She's more than that," the figure replied. "And the veil has lifted. They know. Others are coming."
Christopher stepped between them. "Who are you?"
The figure pulled back its hood, revealing a face marked with a glowing tattoo—a Guardian. But not one they recognized.
"I was sent by Aurora," the Guardian said. "To bring you home. Caelum is no longer safe. And neither is this place."
Isabella clung to her mother, her eyes wide. "Mommy, what's happening?"
Ariel knelt beside her, brushing a tear from her cheek. "It's time, sweetheart. We have to go."
The Guardian turned toward the trees. "We leave before sunrise. Pack only what you need."
And just like that, the figure vanished into the mist.
The porch swing swayed once more, empty now. The stars above seemed to dim.
It was time.
Far from the quiet lake and the warmth of the cottage, beyond the veil that shielded Caelum and the sleepy town of Alem, something ancient stirred.
In a forgotten valley where the sun had not touched the ground in centuries, a circle of stone monoliths stood like broken teeth. The air was thick with ash and silence. And in the center of the circle, a figure knelt in the dirt, tracing symbols into the earth with fingers blackened by time.
He was not human. Not anymore.
His eyes glowed faintly—red, like embers that refused to die. His skin bore the twisted remnants of once-divine markings, now corrupted and burned. He had once been a Guardian, long ago, before he chose power over redemption. Before he fell a second time.
They called him Malric.
And he had been watching and waiting for this moment.
A raven landed on one of the stones, its eyes gleaming with unnatural intelligence. Malric looked up, a slow smile spreading across his scarred face.
"She's awakened, and we have found her" he whispered.
The raven cawed once, then vanished into the mist.
Malric stood, his cloak billowing around him like smoke. He turned to the shadows behind him, where others waited—figures cloaked in darkness, their faces hidden, their tattoos long since twisted into marks of ruin.
"She is the key," he said. "The child of Caelum's rulers. The prophecy lives."
A murmur rippled through the gathered figures.
"She will be powerful," one hissed.
"She will be dangerous," said another.
Malric raised a hand, silencing them. "We know what we need to do."
He turned his gaze to the north, where the mountains rose like sentinels. Where the mist still clung to the trees. Where a little girl had just begun to remember who she was.
"Send the scouts," he said. "it is time, we know where she is now, bring her to me".
Malric knew that it would be a fight, her parents would not let them take her, they would fight with all of their power, he would need to send enough of his men, they could not fail. Isabella's parents had made a mistake by taking Isabella away from Caelum, they were alone and weak there, with no protection.
The time to strike was now, before they reached the Caelum.
And in the distance, the wind carried the scent of smoke.
Dawn broke softly over Alem, painting the sky in hues of lavender and gold. The lake lay still, as if holding its breath, and the trees whispered farewell in the breeze. The cottage stood quiet, its windows dark, its door closed for the last time.
Christopher loaded the final bag into the trunk, his movements steady but tense. Ariel stood beside the car, her eyes scanning the woods, her senses alert. The Guardian who had delivered Aurora's message waited silently at the edge of the trees, his hood drawn low, his presence like a shadow stitched into the morning light.
In the back seat, Isabella slept curled beneath her favorite blanket, her music box tucked beside her. Her breath was slow, peaceful, unaware of the storm gathering beyond the veil.
"She's still asleep," Ariel whispered.
Christopher nodded. "Let's keep it that way. At least for now."
They climbed into the car, the engine humming to life. The Guardian mounted a sleek black motorcycle and pulled ahead, leading the way through winding forest roads that twisted like veins through the mountains.
As they drove, mist began to gather—thin at first, then thick, curling around the trees like smoke. The road narrowed, the light dimmed, and the world behind them faded into memory.
Ariel glanced back at Isabella, her heart aching. "She looks so small."
"She won't be for long," Christopher said quietly. "She's waking up."
The Guardian turned sharply, leading them off the main road and onto a hidden path that seemed to appear from nowhere. The trees grew taller here, ancient and watchful. The mist thickened until it swallowed the sky.
And then, as they rounded a bend, the veil parted.
Caelum waited beyond.
A city of stone and light, cloaked in enchantment, nestled high in the mountains where no mortal dared tread. Towers rose like sentinels, courtyards shimmered with dew, and the air pulsed with quiet power.
Isabella stirred in her sleep, her fingers twitching.
Ariel reached back and gently touched her hand.
"Welcome home," she whispered.
And the road behind them disappeared into mist.
The mist grew thicker as the car wound its way up the final stretch of mountain road. Caelum was close now—just beyond the veil. Christopher gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes scanning the trees. Ariel sat beside him, her senses sharp, her heart pounding. In the back seat, Isabella slept peacefully, her music box still playing its soft tune.
The Guardian rode ahead, his black motorcycle cutting through the fog like a blade. They were minutes from passing through the veil.
Then the shadows moved.
It began with a flicker—a blur between the trees. Then another. And another.
Ariel gasped. "Christopher—"
He slammed the brakes. They heard the guardians voice in their heads shouting to them, "Don't stop, keep moving", but it was already too late. They were surrounded.
Figures emerged from the mist, cloaked in black, their tattoos twisted and glowing with corrupted power. Malric's followers. Dozens of them. Surrounding the car. Blocking the road. Eyes gleaming red.
The Guardian spun his bike and leapt into action, blades drawn, striking with precision. Christopher threw open the door, grabbing the sword hidden beneath his seat. Ariel followed, her hands glowing faintly with energy.
They fought like the warriors they once were—trained, fierce, desperate.
But there were too many and Christopher and Ariel had not practiced their magic for five years.
The shadows pressed in, their movements coordinated, relentless. The Guardian fought beside them, his hood torn, his face bloodied, but he did not falter.
They were so intent on keeping their attackers away from the car, away from Isabella that they had no paid enough attention, the attackers were a decoy, while they had been fighting, Malric had used his power to open the car door and grab Isabella out of the car. Ariel screamed as she saw what was happening, she lunged toward the car. Christopher turned, slicing through the air, but he was too late.
A flash of black. A burst of smoke.
And Isabella was gone.
The back door hung open, her blanket still warm. The music box lay shattered on the seat.
Ariel fell to her knees, a cry tearing from her throat. Christopher roared, cutting down two more of the attackers, but the rest vanished into the mist—taking Isabella with them.
The Guardian limped to their side, his voice hoarse. "We almost made it, they knew you were coming."
Ariel clutched the blanket, her eyes wild. "We have to find her."
Christopher stood trembling, his sword dripping with rain and blood. "We will."
But the mist had swallowed the road. And the mountain was silent once more.