The night air was colder than usual, prickling Elara's skin as she stepped outside the ruined sanctuary. The once-majestic temple, now just a skeleton of scorched stone and smoldering ruins, echoed with a silence that screamed louder than any voice. She clutched the silver locket tighter against her chest, its hum resonating faintly—as if the past was breathing through it.
Kael hadn't returned.
It had been hours since he'd left to pursue the cloaked figure they saw near the riverbank. Elara's instincts told her something was wrong. Her bond with him, one she couldn't explain or understand, buzzed with unease.
A soft rustle in the blackened leaves drew her attention.
"Kael?" she whispered.
No response.
Instead, a figure emerged slowly from the haze of smoke—tall, cloaked, but not Kael. This figure moved like mist and shadow combined. Their face was hidden beneath a hood embroidered with glyphs glowing a faint crimson.
"You shouldn't be here, Elara Clarke," the figure said. Their voice was neither male nor female, but eerily neutral.
"How do you know my name?"
The figure didn't answer. Instead, they raised a hand and the air between them shimmered. A vision flashed—her mother, the one she barely remembered, standing in the exact spot Elara stood now. She looked afraid. She looked… betrayed.
"What is this?" Elara demanded.
"History," the figure said simply. "One you were never meant to forget. But it's been locked—by your father, by your bloodline, by the Order."
The Order.
The name echoed in Elara's mind like an ancient chant. It wasn't the first time she'd heard it. Weeks ago, Kael mentioned them in passing—vague, dangerous, secret. Now it seemed they were tied to everything: her magic, her dreams, the fire that haunted her every night.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.
The figure stepped closer. The ground beneath them didn't even crunch—it was as if they floated.
"To wake you up," they said, "before it's too late."
Then they vanished. No wind, no light—just gone.
Elara staggered back, heart racing. A sudden gust blew past, and for a moment she thought she saw ash dancing in the shape of wings.
Then—
"ELARA!"
Kael's voice cut through the silence like lightning.
She turned. He was running, eyes wide with panic. Cuts laced his arms, his black coat torn. When he reached her, he grabbed her shoulders and searched her face.
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
Elara blinked, stunned. "Who—who are they, Kael? That cloaked figure… they showed me a vision of my mother."
Kael's expression darkened.
"They're one of the Boundless. I didn't think they'd reach you so soon."
"What are the Boundless?"
Kael hesitated, then exhaled, long and hard.
"They're not people. They're… remnants. Beings who gave up their mortality to hold onto forbidden magic. They were part of the Order centuries ago—but when they tried to rewrite fate itself, they were banished. Now they're coming back. And they want you."
"Why?"
He looked into her eyes, a storm swirling in his.
"Because you're the only one who can stop them."
Elara felt as if the world tilted. "Me? Why me?"
"Because you're not just anyone, Elara. You're the daughter of Lysandra Clarke—the one who defied fate and lived."
Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Kael caught her, holding her close. Her breath shook in her lungs.
"My mother died in a fire…"
"No," he said softly. "That's what they told you. But your mother didn't die. She became something else. And they've hidden the truth from you ever since."
Elara's eyes filled with tears. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I couldn't," Kael said. "The spell around your memory was sealed by your blood. But now, the cracks have started. And I need you to remember, Elara. Because the future depends on it."
For the first time in her life, Elara felt the weight of destiny pressing on her shoulders—not just as a whisper in her dreams, but a tangible force echoing through her bones.
She looked toward the ruins of the sanctuary, then at Kael.
"I want the truth. All of it."
Kael nodded. "Then we start with the ashes."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded map—old, cracked, and drawn with ink that shimmered under moonlight. He pointed to a marked location deep in the Vale of Echoes.
"That's where the Order's last archives were hidden before they vanished. If there's any record of your mother or the Boundless, it'll be there."
"And it'll be dangerous?"
"Extremely."
She looked up at him and smiled faintly. "Good. I'm tired of being safe."
Kael stared at her, awe flickering in his eyes. "You've changed."
Elara shrugged. "Maybe I'm just finally waking up."
Above them, the moon broke through the clouds, casting its silver gaze upon them both. In the distance, the ashes of the sanctuary stirred again, whispering secrets that had waited too long to be heard.