Rain fell softly over the shattered rooftops of Ashvale, a town long forgotten by maps but not by fate.
Elena, Dorian, and Miles moved through the ruins in silence, their boots crunching on broken glass and ash. The storm overhead growled like a waking beast. Magic pulsed faintly beneath the earth—ancient, flickering, waiting to be stirred.
"We're close," Elena murmured, holding out her hand. A faint golden glow shimmered in her palm, pulling toward the crumbling church at the end of the road.
Dorian stepped beside her. "Are you sure this is the place?"
"She's here," Elena said. "I can feel her."
Miles flanked her opposite side, his voice skeptical. "If she's survived all this time, she won't trust anyone easily. Bloodline heirs are hunted."
"Then we prove we're not here to hurt her," Elena said.
They reached the doors of the ruined church. Vines snaked up the stone walls. The stained-glass windows had long since shattered, but the scent of incense still lingered in the air.
Before they could knock, the doors opened with a creak.
A young woman stood in the threshold, her dark hair damp with rain, one eye glowing faint silver. In her hand was a blade forged from obsidian, humming with energy.
"I thought you'd come eventually," she said flatly. "The fire-bearer, the shadowborn, and the wolf in human skin."
Miles's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
Elena stepped forward. "You're Kira. Of the Second Line."
Kira didn't lower her weapon. "You're supposed to be dead."
"Most of me was," Elena said. "But not anymore."
Kira studied her for a long moment, then slowly sheathed the blade. "Prove you're who you say you are."
Elena nodded. She stepped closer, raised her hand, and let her power rise—not just flame, but light. It spilled from her fingertips in golden strands that floated in the air like silk.
Kira watched, her eyes wide. "You really are her."
Dorian moved beside Elena. "We need your help."
Kira frowned. "The Devourer is awake, isn't it?"
"Yes," Elena said. "And it's already feeding."
Kira stepped back and opened the doors fully. "Then come inside. There's someone you need to meet."
They followed her into the dim light of the church. Candles flickered across cracked stone. Books, sigils, and maps littered the altar. And sitting in the far corner, hunched over a scroll, was a boy no older than sixteen.
He looked up. His eyes were entirely white.
"This is Arin," Kira said. "The last reader. He remembers every war. Every life."
The boy stood slowly, his voice far older than his body. "You've taken too long to return, Elena. The Veil is thinning. If you don't act soon, the Hollow will devour everything."
Elena felt the weight of his words like ice down her spine.
"Then we start now," she said. "No more running. We find the heirs. We rebuild the Circle."
Kira nodded. "Then we fight."
Outside, the wind howled louder. And far away, the Devourer opened another mouth and screamed.