Far from the Academy — beyond mountains carved by old magic and rivers that remembered blood — night rolled over the Wastes like a living thing.Nothing grew here. Nothing dared.The ground cracked in jagged scars, as though something beneath had clawed at the world and nearly broken free long ago. The sky was bruised, stars swallowed by thick, restless clouds.And in the center of that desolate stretch stood ruins — the bones of an ancient fortress, broken towers jutting like teeth from the earth.For years, they had been silent.Tonight, they breathed again.A ripple — thin as a whisper — passed through the air. The dust stirred, lifting in slow spirals. Cracks glowed faintly as if embers waited beneath the stone.Then a voice, low and cold, cut through the stillness:“Sixteen years… and at last, the spark awakens again.”Footsteps sounded across the broken courtyard — soft, deliberate. A figure cloaked in black walked among the shattered pillars, shadow trailing like liquid smoke.

Riven did not sleep that night.He sat in his quarters, elbows on his desk, staring at the slow curl of steam rising from a cup of tea long gone cold.His magic hummed quietly beneath his skin, sharp and restless. Not angry—just awake. Alert. It had been ever since the runes on the temple ruins flared yesterday. Ever since Kael touched them.And ever since Riven felt that pulse — that ancient note vibrating through the air like a chord struck across worlds.He had felt it once before.On a battlefield, surrounded by screaming and fire.He shut the memory out before it could drag him under.A soft knock broke the silence.Orien’s voice came through, calm but clipped. “You’re still awake.”Riven didn’t turn. “You are too.”The door slid open. Orien stepped inside, robes soft and pale in the faint dawn light. Tired shadows sat under his eyes.“You sensed it?” he asked quietly.Riven’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need to ask what it was.“Yes.”Orien’s breath left him like he had hoped—deepl

Kael felt the air change before the knock came. The night outside the dormitory window was still, heavy with fog that pressed against the glass like breath. Inside, the candle on his desk had burned itself to a stub, the wax pooled and hardened. He’d been staring at it for hours, unable to make himself move. Sleep had become a stranger. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw fire. Then came the knock—three short raps, measured and cold. He knew that rhythm. Sentinels. He stood slowly. His body ached with the dull, lingering burn from training, but the sound in the corridor dragged something deeper—dread, old and quiet, like the echo of a heartbeat he’d tried to forget. When the door opened, two Sentinels filled the doorway, their silver armor catching the candlelight. Their helms reflected his face back at him: pale, hollow-eyed, unshaven. “Kael Ardyn,” one said, voice metallic, unreadable. “By order of the Council, you are to come with us immediately.” His stomach dropped. “Wh

Kael's Pov The last thing I remembered was darkness engulfing my vision some time after my conversation with riven. Darkness held me for a moment that felt like floating—weightless, silent, painless. Somewhere far away, someone was pulling me across stone, hands hooked beneath my arms. Cold air brushed my skin. My heartbeat pounded back into existence. Then the world snapped into focus. I gasped. Riven was dragging me through a narrow passage carved between ancient walls, his runes flickering wild shadows along the cramped stone. “Kael,” he hissed, breathless. “Stay awake. You have to stay awake.” My head throbbed as memories returned in jagged flashes—the Veil door, the sigil from my dreams, the Shadowfire exploding out of me like a living storm. And Riven’s last words before everything went white: You weren’t born of Shadowfire. You were made for it. My voice scraped out, raw and uncertain. “What… happened?” Riven didn’t look at me. He was sweating, shaking, his

The ruins were colder than the night around them.Broken stone arches leaned like bent ribs over the blackened field, and the wind sang through hollow cracks in a low, mournful whistle. I lowered Riven onto what used to be a stairway platform, barely intact, and dropped to my knees beside him. He was pale—too pale—and every shallow breath he took made something inside my chest twist painfully.“Stay with me,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the wound in his side. My fingers came away slick and warm. “Riven, don’t—don’t you dare stop breathing.”His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t answer.Shadowfire stirred inside me, coiling hot and agitated around my ribs. It reacted to fear. It always reacted to fear.But this time, I didn’t try to calm it.I needed it. I needed anything that would keep Riven alive.I pulled him closer, lifting his head into my lap. “You told me not to lose you,” I murmured. “So don’t make me break that promise.”The world blurred at the edges. Exhaustion rol