The moment Elara and Kael stepped out of the Veiled Path, the air felt heavier.
The forest was silent—too silent.
Leaves didn't rustle.
Birds didn't call.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Elara clutched Kael's arm instinctively.
"It feels… wrong," she whispered.
Elias nodded, eyes scanning the treeline. "The woods sense the binding. The balance shifted."
Tamsin rubbed her arms. "It's like the forest is listening."
Marcellus sheathed his sword with a sharp click. "Of course it is. Power like this ripples through the realms. Every creature attuned to magic felt what happened in the Vault."
"Including the Sanctuary," Elias murmured.
"And the Devourer," the Ghostborn added with a too-pleasant smile.
Kael stiffened. "We move. Now."
He lifted Elara into his arms before she could protest—not because she was too weak, but because the ground trembled as soon as they left the cave.
A warning.
Footsteps reformed behind them as they left the Veiled Path. The runes sealing the entrance dimmed, then vanished entirely. When Elara glanced back—
The cliff face had returned.
No door.
No runes.
No path.
As if the vault had never existed.
"It's gone," she whispered.
Tamsin swallowed. "The Veiled Path opens only once per Blood Moon cycle. It may be centuries before anyone enters again."
Elara looked up at Kael. "Then we found what we needed just in time."
He nodded, shadows flickering behind his eyes. "But we are not safe yet."
They began the long trek toward the Sanctuary—an enormous ancient fortress hidden behind a labyrinth of cliffs and mountain ridges. The closer they came, the colder the wind grew.
By midday, haze drifted through the mountains. Strange whispers carried on the wind, too soft to understand, too unsettling to ignore.
Marcellus stopped abruptly.
"Do you hear that?" he muttered.
Kael stiffened. "Voices?"
Elias nodded. "Yes. Someone is chanting."
Elara strained her ears—and then she recognized it.
Magic.
Old magic.
Thousands of threads woven together into a single, pulsing chant.
She clutched Kael's coat. "That's the Sanctuary's wardwork. They're summoning the Elders."
Kael cursed under his breath.
Marcellus scowled. "They already know we're coming. And they know what Elara did."
Tamsin paled. "How? The Vault is sealed."
Elara swallowed. "Because my father's power stirred. The Devourer clawed the Veil. And I forged a Mirror with Kael. All of it left echoes."
The Ghostborn laughed softly. "Echoes? My dear girl, it was more like a trumpet. I heard it from the next realm."
Kael turned sharply. "Enough. If the Sanctuary is mobilizing, we must tread carefully."
Elara's mark pulsed.
Something was pulling her toward the Sanctuary gates.
Something expectant.
Something afraid.
Kael noticed immediately. "Elara? Your chest—"
"It's reacting again," she whispered. "But… not painfully. It feels like it's reaching. Like it senses something familiar."
Marcellus stiffened. "The Elders' seal anchors."
Elias cursed. "If they know she is the new Mirror, they may try to bind her."
Kael's shadows leapt outward in a violent pulse.
"They will not touch her."
His voice shook the trees.
The Sanctuary Appears
Hours later, the mountain ridge parted—and the Sanctuary revealed itself.
A massive fortress carved into the stone itself, its towers reaching like frozen pillars of dawn. Symbols of the First Healers glowed along the walls. Runes flowed across the entrance gates like living currents.
Elara had seen drawings of it since childhood.
Nothing prepared her for the real thing.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"And deadly," Marcellus said flatly.
Elara nodded.
The Sanctuary had never been a place of simple refuge. It was a place of power. A place of rules. A place where magic was centralized… and controlled.
Kael carried Elara to the base of the cliff gates.
The ground shook again—this time not from nature, but from magic.
A wind swept down the stone staircase.
Cloth rustled.
Boots echoed.
And then they appeared—
The Seven Elders of the Sanctuary.
Each wore ceremonial robes glowing with runes.
Each held a staff carved from a different ancient artifact.
Each radiated power like a storm.
The central figure stepped forward.
She was tall, severe, with silver hair braided in a crown and eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
Elder Valryn.
Elara had heard stories—none of them gentle.
"Bring her forward," Elder Valryn commanded.
Kael snarled quietly. "She will walk herself."
Elara put a gentle hand on his arm. "It's alright."
He reluctantly set her on her feet—but didn't move from her side.
Elder Valryn studied Elara with slow, cold scrutiny.
"You carry the Healer's light."
Elara nodded.
"You carry the Shadowborn's mark."
Elara clenched her jaw. "Yes."
"And you forged a Mirror."
Elara stiffened. "How do you know—?"
Valryn lifted her staff.
The runes on Elara's chest pulsed in response.
"You tremble with both halves of creation," Valryn said. "Light and Shadow. Seal and Void. Healer and King."
Tamsin stepped forward. "You called us. We request shelter. Study space. A safe ward for the Mirror."
Valryn's lips curved faintly.
"We will give her shelter."
Kael growled. "Define shelter."
Valryn ignored him.
The other Elders whispered among themselves.
"She carries the power of two crowns."
"She may be the key."
"She may destroy us all."
Valryn raised her voice again.
"Elara of the Twin Bloods. We welcome you to the Sanctuary."
Elara bowed her head politely.
But something about the Elder's eyes…
Cold. Calculating. Empty.
Elara's spine tingled.
"You seek answers," Valryn said. "We have them."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What answers?"
Valryn's gaze sharpened.
"The Third Seal."
Silence.
Kael froze. Elara's breath hitched.
Valryn lifted her staff, and the runes along the walls flared.
"Bring him forward," she said.
Elara's heart plummeted. "What—?"
And then she saw it.
A group of Sanctuary warriors descending the stairs.
Dragging chains.
Bindings.
And between them—slumped but alive—
Another Shadowborn.
A young man with silver-black hair, skin marked with corrupted runes, and eyes like fading eclipses.
Kael staggered back, shock ripping through him.
"No," he choked. "No, that's—"
Tamsin gasped. "Is that—? It can't be—"
Marcellus stepped back as if punched. "A second vessel…?"
Elara stared, heart pounding.
The chained boy lifted his head weakly.
His voice cracked.
"Brother…?"
Kael froze.
Completely.
Utterly.
Like the world stopped turning.
Elara grabbed his arm as his shadows exploded in a violent storm.
"KAEL?"
The Elders raised their staffs.
Valryn's lips curled.
"Welcome home, Kael Varran."
The chained boy collapsed to his knees.
"Elara…" Kael whispered. "That's—my brother."
Elara's heart shattered.
The Devourer's curse never made just one vessel.
It made two.