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Chapter 42
Away from the furthest edge, beneath shadowy skies, Mason and friends were walking, gripped by cold winds, the east and south winds once carried songs of the little birds, and now everything stood broken. A new thing had turned up in John's family vault, a hidden library underneath his estate. Only four had gone there.Mason, Aurora, Norra, and John. Elara had stayed behind at the academy to keep watch. The vault smelled ancient. Dust motes floated in thin shafts of light. Books were lined along very tall shelves. Scrolls lay scattered on the floor.John closed the door softly. His expression was slightly nervous. “This library… it is special. A library that my family built. It contains some secrets concerning our bloodline and also about the veil between worlds.”Mason nodded. He held Severing Blade like a crutch. It had no power now, but the weight still rested in his palms. "Anything that talks about soul anchors, the mirrors, or governing lines needs to be found."Aurora stepped
Chapter 41
The sun had set before Mason and his friends reached the edge of Cireen. The city lay silent and gray. Ash flaked from broken walls. No birds flew. No animals stirred.Mason looked at the silent streets and felt cold in his chest.Aurora tightened her cloak. She looked worried. “I don’t like this place,” she said softly.Mason nodded. He did not like it either. The air felt heavy. Their footsteps made dust rise. The night wind whispered across empty buildings.They set camp near the old gate, broken stone, rusted iron. Aurora lit a small green lantern. Norra checked her gear. Elara looked at old maps. Holt, the storm mage, watched the dark city.Mason stared at a statue near the gate. A woman in robes, face cracked, hands reaching into nothing. Mason whispered, “She looks broken.”Norra answered, “Maybe she knows we should not be here.”Mason did not speak. He stared at the empty city. He felt the letter's weight again in his pocket and the echo of that strange rune on the paper.Thre
Chapter 40
It took them three days to reach the outskirts of Cireen. The journey south from Argent Academy passed through mountain ranges of bone-white stone and valleys so quiet the wind seemed afraid to speak. No birds flew overhead. No beasts crossed their path. Only dust, and the ever-present feeling that something, someone, was watching.Cireen had once been a shining trade city, famous for its underground vaults and crystal-lit streets. But nearly a century ago, an explosion of unstable magic had swallowed half the city whole. Now it was a hollow shell, haunted, abandoned, and officially cursed by every known mage council. The perfect place for a soul anchor.They set up camp outside the main gate at dusk. Aurora secured the perimeter with light wards while Holt drilled a line of salt into the dust. Elara unrolled her maps, marking tunnel entrances and collapse zones. Norra fidgeted with her satchel, muttering incantations under her breath.Mason stood alone near a broken statue of a r
Chapter 39
The fog rolled in thick and early, long before dawn crept into the shattered halls of Argent Academy.It came not from the mountains nor from the lake beyond the western cliffs. No, this fog was wrong. Too cold. Too still. It didn’t swirl or dance with the wind. It clung. And it watched.Mason Reed stood alone in the observatory tower, the highest point in the academy still intact. His eyes tracked the curling mist below, following the patterns of white as they pooled in courtyards and crawled across rooftops like silent invaders.Behind him, the Severing Blade rested on a stone table. Its hilt pulsed faintly, as though reacting to the creeping mist. He didn’t trust silence anymore.“Another omen?” asked Aurora as she stepped in. She wore a silver-trimmed cloak, her hair pulled into a tight braid. Her eyes were bloodshot.“No,” Mason said without turning. “This is a warning.”She didn’t ask what he meant. Instead, she walked over and stood beside him, watching the fog with narrowed e
Chapter 38
The skies above Argent Academy burned violet when Mason saw it. Fires dotted the towers.The protective runes that lined the outer walls sputtered like dying candles.And worse, figures in black, robed in swirling shadow, marched on the stone causeways. Their faces were hidden, their steps silent.The Cabal had come.Mason stood on the ridge just before the bridge, clutching the Severing Blade. Around him, Norra cursed under her breath.Elara whispered a ward of detection, and Aurora scanned the scene below, her face grim. “This isn’t a raid,” she said quietly. “This is war.”“The breach was only the beginning,” Mason said.They watched as a wave of magical energy rolled over the southern tower. The wards crumbled like sand under pressure. Dozens of students ran, screaming. Professors fought back, but the enemy came in numbers.And worse, mirror spirits shimmered between them, slipping through cracks in reality, laughing as they tore through stone and spell.“Orvel is still inside,”
Chapter 37
The wind howled over the cliffs as the gates of Argent Academy faded behind them.Mason didn’t look back. Ahead lay the Silver Range, jagged mountains with peaks like spears aimed at the sky. Nestled deep in its core was a scar in the earth, the place maps called Lazareth Hollow. But the maps didn’t show how it bled magic. Or how its air ate memory like rot.Their group was smaller this time. Just five.Mason, armored in the cursed suit. Aurora, ever vigilant, her satchel lined with glyph traps and barrier scrolls. Norra, flame-eyed and restless, already chewing a root to calm her nerves. Elara, silent and pale, carrying the soul-compass, which trembled violently every time it pointed east, and Holt, their wild card, grizzled, storm-touched, and eerily calm.“We’ll reach the Hollow’s edge by dusk,” Holt said, pointing to the path spiraling between two crags. “If the storm doesn’t eat us.”Norra snorted. “Storms I can handle. It’s what lives in the Hollow I’m not ready for.”Aurora l
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