The village of Glen Caorann was the sort of place that most people never left. A place where life followed the same rhythm as it had for generations, where the hills whispered old stories in the wind and the loch reflected the changing sky like a quiet observer. It was a village of farmers, blacksmiths, and fishermen. A village of simple folk who mended their roofs before the winter came and never asked for more than the land could give.But for Eoin and Eilidh MacKenna, the quiet, predictable life of Glen Caorann was a slow, suffocating kind of death.They were sixteen, twins born minutes apart but as different as fire and water. Eoin was restless, always moving, always searching for something he couldn’t name. He had an easy grin and a quick temper, a boy who climbed trees just to see how high he could get and leapt from rooftops for the thrill of it. If there was a rule, he’d test it. If there was a locked door, he’d find a way to open it.Eilidh, on the other hand, was careful whe

Eoin was half-asleep on the attic floor when Eilidh’s voice snapped him awake.“I found something.”His eyes shot open. He sat up fast, blinking as dust swirled in the lantern light. “Please tell me it’s a key.”Eilidh didn’t answer immediately. She was holding something long and metallic, turning it over in her hands.Eoin groaned. “If it’s not a key, I don’t care.”“It’s not a key,” she admitted. Then, after a pause, “But it might lead to one.”Eoin squinted at it. “Is that… a telescope?”It was old—brass, worn, with strange engravings running along the length of it. Grandda had always kept odd little trinkets, and this was just another one of them.Eilidh ran her fingers over the carvings. “Look closer.”Eoin leaned in. At first, it was just meaningless patterns, but then he saw it—a tiny indentation, almost hidden in the engravings. A small metal latch.Without thinking, he pressed it.There was a soft click.Eilidh inhaled sharply as the bottom of the telescope shifted, then slid

Elidh was running.The forest around her was a blur of dark trees and shifting shadows, the ground soft beneath her bare feet. She could hear whispers threading through the air—low, insistent, calling her forward.“Seek the Codex.”The voice was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was everywhere and nowhere, echoing inside her head.She tried to stop, but her feet wouldn’t listen.The trees bent inward as if watching. The stars overhead shone too brightly, forming constellations she didn’t recognize.And then—A figure appeared ahead.Cloaked in deep blue, their face hidden in the shadows of their hood.Eilidh’s breath caught. She should have been afraid. But instead, a strange familiarity washed over her.The figure raised a hand.“Find the Celestial Codex before it’s too late.”The ground shook beneath her. The whispering grew into a roar—Eilidh gasped and bolted upright.It was just a dream!!The room was silent, save for Eoin’s steady breathing in the next bed.Eil

The village was quiet. Too quiet.Eoin and Eilidh stood at the entrance, taking in the narrow streets, the stone houses, the lanterns swaying gently in the wind. The whole place felt like it was holding its breath.“Charming,” Eoin muttered.Eilidh elbowed him. “Stay sharp. This place is important.”They had followed the pendant’s pull through winding paths and thick woods, emerging here—the Village of Whispers. Their grandfather’s journal mentioned it in passing, hinting at ancient knowledge buried within its borders. Now that they were here, though, it was clear the locals weren’t thrilled about visitors.Shutters creaked as windows closed. A few villagers lingered in doorways, watching them with narrowed eyes. No one spoke.Eilidh stepped forward. “Excuse me—”The old man in front of her turned away without a word.She frowned. “Friendly lot.”Eoin sighed. “We need to find that library.”They walked deeper into the village, following the pendant’s faint glow. The tension was thick.

The morning sun bathed the Highlands in golden light, stretching long shadows across the rugged terrain. Eoin, Eilidh, and Bran stood outside Toran’s cabin, their breath curling in the crisp air. The scent of damp earth and dew-kissed grass lingered, mingling with the distant murmur of a brook. Today marked the beginning of their real training—the kind that would push them past their limits, sharpen their skills, and prepare them for the battles ahead.Toran stepped forward, his silver eyes surveying them with quiet intensity. “You’re eager,” he observed. “Good. But eagerness alone won’t keep you alive. Power without control is just destruction waiting to happen.”Eoin nodded, rolling his shoulders. “Then let’s start.”Toran’s lips twitched into something resembling approval. “Very well. Let’s see what you’re made of.”Before anything else, Toran needed to assess their current abilities. He had them demonstrate their fighting techniques—Eoin and Eilidh moved through the defensive stan