---
Morning came slowly to the Vale.
Not by sun or birdsong, but by the return of magical currents—wards flaring back to life, mosslights pulsing with renewed rhythm. But the cold remained.
It wasn't just the chill of stone.
It was the memory of invasion.
Riven stood before Vaelin and Seris, the bone shard held in his palm. Its runes still glowed faintly with residual corruption, as though the Eclipse Order's hand still lingered on its surface.
"They were here," Riven said. "Inside the Vale."
Seris took the shard with gloved fingers, examining the script closely. "These aren't just Eclipse runes. They're prison marks. Carved for control—binding, not casting."
"Then why leave it?" Riven asked.
"To let you know they're watching," Vaelin said, voice grim. "And to see how you'd respond."
Riven didn't flinch. "Then let them watch. Next time, they won't leave."
Vaelin's eyes narrowed slightly, measuring that resolve.
"You fought using both seals?" Seris asked.
He nodded. "Fire and shadow. Together."
"And it didn't reject you?"
"No."
Seris's lips thinned. "That's faster than expected. You're changing, Riven."
He didn't answer. He didn't know if it was praise or warning.
---
Elsewhere in the Vale, Kael walked alone.
He'd avoided the dormitory, the library, the training halls. Not because he feared what lurked in the dark—but because something inside him had begun to stir.
Ever since the dream—since the spirit that spoke with Lyra's voice—his own soul had begun to fray. Memories blurred. His blade felt heavier. And some nights, he couldn't tell if it was his breath he heard, or someone else's.
Today, though, something called him deeper into the crypt-paths beneath the western wing. Forbidden tunnels. Unused in decades.
He passed beyond the sealed archways, past broken guardians and flickering warding flames.
Then he saw it.
A single glowing thread—no thicker than a hair—dangling in mid-air.
Not light. Not mana.
A memory thread.
He reached out and touched it.
---
His mind snapped.
Sound. Fire. Screams.
A vision bloomed in his skull, not his own—but Lyra's.
She was bound to a chair of silver roots, wrists raw, eyes defiant.
Across from her stood a tall figure in Eclipse robes—mask bone-white, voice like silk dipped in poison.
"She still resists," the voice said. "But not for long."
Kael gasped and pulled away.
The memory thread snapped—and burned to dust.
But the image remained.
Lyra was alive.
But not safe.
And the Eclipse Order had her.
---
Back in the training circle, Riven pushed his flame harder than ever.
Every strike burned hotter. Every step with the Ash Frame steadier. He could feel something building beneath his seals—like pressure behind glass. Waiting to be shattered.
Vaelin watched quietly. "You're not just preparing for the next lesson."
"No," Riven said. "I'm preparing for them."
"Then learn this—your enemy is not just the Eclipse. It is what they awaken in you."
Riven paused.
Vaelin stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"They want to twist what you are. Just as they did with others before you. If you burn without restraint, they win."
"I won't let them."
"Good," Vaelin said. "Then you're ready for the next rite."
---
That evening, Kael returned, eyes dark, expression grim.
Riven didn't need to ask.
"You saw her?"
Kael nodded. "She's alive. Caged in something... unnatural."
"Where?"
"I don't know. But I saw the one guarding her. I'll never forget that mask."
Riven's jaw tightened.
"Then we find them."
"No," Kael said. "I find them. You stay here. You keep training. You need to be stronger than them."
"I won't wait while she suffers."
Kael didn't argue.
He just held out a folded piece of paper. "This fell from the thread before it vanished."
Riven opened it.
In her handwriting:
> Riven… I remember now. Not everything. But enough. The pendant is the key. Protect it. And don't trust the one in blue.
Riven blinked.
"The one in blue?"
Kael looked confused. "None of the Eclipse wear blue."
But Riven knew.
Someone in the Vale did.
And they had just become his next suspect.
---