The great hall of Arkwright Manor trembled not from wind or thunder, but from the whisper that cracked through the room: “He has no power.”Ray Graham stood at the center of the marble floor, the ceremonial robes of a groom hanging awkwardly on his thin frame.Around him, nobles gleamed in bright silks and polished armor, a sea of eyes sharpening like blades. Lady Celene Arkwright, his bride stepped back as if he carried disease.“Is it true, Ray?” she demanded. “You can’t even summon a spark?”Ray swallowed. “Celene… you know I’ve been sick since childhood. I ”“That’s not an answer.” Her voice rose. “Show them magic.”“I… can’t.”The hall erupted. A noble laughed. Another spat on the ground. Someone muttered, “A powerless man marrying into the Arkwright line? Disgrace.”Ray’s fingertips trembled. Not from fear, he was used to insults, but from the burning pressure beneath his skin, the strange heaviness he’d always carried. The “sickness” that never healed. The same sickness that ma

Rain dripped from the silver-cloaked figure’s hood as he stepped into the courtyard. His boots splashed in shallow puddles, each step deliberate, predatory.Ray instinctively moved back, but Lira seized his wrist and pulled him behind her. “Don’t engage,” she whispered. “Not with him.”Ray’s voice was barely a breath. “You… know who he is?”Lira’s jaw tightened. “High Inquisitor Theron Arkwright.”Ray froze. Celene’s uncle. A man known for hunting mages whose power “threatened public order.”A man who never failed to bring his targets back, either bound or bloodied. Theron’s pale eyes swept over Ray with calculated coldness.“So,” he said, “the rumors were true. The useless groom dares imitate a healer.”Ray swallowed hard. “I didn’t imitate anything. I just tried to save a man”“And performed a miracle far beyond your station.” Theron’s lips curled. “Your presumption is noted.”Lira stepped in front of Ray. “Leave him alone, Theron. He healed someone. That’s not a crime.”Theron’s ga

The rain fell harder as Ray and Lira stumbled through the ruined monastery’s outer wall, their breaths ragged and uneven.The distant shouts of guards echoed behind them, a constant reminder that the Arkwright hunt wouldn’t stop, not now, not after what Ray had done. Ray’s legs shook beneath him. “Lira… wait”His voice broke, and he leaned against a crumbling stone pillar. Lira immediately spun toward him. “Ray? Ray, talk to me. What’s wrong?”Ray pressed a hand to his chest, gasping. “It… it feels like something’s tearing inside, like the seal is… ripping.”Lira grabbed his wrist and lifted his hand away. A faint glow pulsed beneath Ray’s skin, like threads of light knitting and unknitting inside him.Lira swore under her breath. “Damn it… you pushed too far, too fast.”Ray slid down the pillar, sitting heavily in the mud. “I didn’t have a choice.”“I know,” she murmured, kneeling in front of him. “But awakening a Healer’s Dome at this stage? Even prodigies don’t do that.”Ray gave a

The rumbling deep beneath the catacombs didn’t sound like shifting stone. It sounded like breathing. Ray’s entire body tensed. “Lira… what is that?”Lira tightened her grip on the lantern, knuckles white. “I don’t know. But we need to move. Now.”Ray took an unsteady step back. “Move where? Every direction is just more tunnels.”“We pick one and pray it doesn’t pick us.”“That’s not comforting.”“Nothing about this place is comforting,” she hissed.The tremor grew stronger. Dust rained down. The mural behind them cracked completely and split along the seam of Ray’s carved symbol. Ray swallowed hard. “That… that’s not normal, is it?”Lira shook her head. “No. That’s a reaction.”“To what?”“You.”Ray felt the world tilt. “Me?!”The ground shook again, this time with intent. A low, guttural moan echoed through the corridor, distant but growing closer, scraping against Ray’s senses like claws dragging over bone.Lira stepped protectively in front of him. “Stay behind me.”Ray grabbed her

The echoes of Arkwright boots slammed through the catacombs, growing sharper, closer, relentless. Lira pulled Ray behind a cracked pillar. “Ray, listen to me, this isn’t like the monastery. These are elites. Inquisitors.”Ray’s gaze stayed fixed on the tunnel entrance, eyes glowing with faint silver light. “I know.”Lira grabbed his arm. “You’re still exhausted from the vision. You can’t fight them like this.”Ray turned to her, calm in a way he hadn’t been before. “I’m not fighting. I’m weaving.”Lira blinked. “Weaving, what?”Ray placed a hand over his heart, where the seal pulsed weakly under his skin. “I understand it now. How to use the part that’s already cracked… without breaking the rest.”Lira stared at him. “Why are you suddenly calm? You were shaking minutes ago.”Ray inhaled shakily. “Because I'm not blind anymore. I finally… remember enough.”Before she could press him, A blast of blue light tore down the corridor. “THERE! BY THE TOMB!”Theron Arkwright’s voice thundered