Adrian froze mid-step.
The air in the ruined sanctuary where he’d made his temporary base shifted. It wasn’t a sound, nor a light—nothing as mundane as a physical signal—but something ancient brushing the edge of his awareness. His fingers twitched at his sides, jaw clenching as a low hum settled deep in his bones. The tether had been broken. No—stirred.He turned slowly toward the center of the cracked floor, where arcane diagrams were burned into stone. Sigils, forgotten languages, and lines of delicate blood magic shimmered faintly in response. The relic… it had been touched. “Elara’s memory,” Adrian murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “After all this time…” He moved to a pedestal where an obsidian basin sat. The water inside was still—until his presence made it boil. The reaction confirmed what he already knew.
“Someone’s found it,” he whispered, voice vibrating with barely-contained fury. The reflection in the water rippled and shifted until the faint silhouette of a glowing orb appeared. It was cradled in spell woven cloth, carried by hands he recognized. Nicholas Rivera. Adrian’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. “Of course.” But then—her face appeared next. Elizabeth. Her presence shone too brightly for a novice. Her magic had touched the relic… responded to it. “That wasn’t meant for you,” he hissed, hands curling into fists. She was unlocking memories he’d worked for centuries to bury. The ties that bound them in past lives were never supposed to resurface—especially not like this. And yet, there she was, unraveling the threads he’d knotted with blood and fire. Threads that, if left unchecked, would lead her straight to the truth of what he’d done.
He stepped back from the basin, magic flaring briefly around his hands like embers bursting in a gust of wind. His cloak shifted with his rising power, the sigils inked into the lining glowing faintly. He would need to act faster now. Charm and distraction had played their part. But if Elizabeth’s power was waking—and she was remembering—then time was no longer on his side. “Fine,” he muttered, voice low and dangerous. “Let her remember.” The smirk returned, colder now. “Let her remember everything.” With a sharp gesture, Adrian turned toward the circle at the back of the chamber. A portal flickered to life, dark and seething with coiled magic. He had preparations to make—and someone to send. Adrian stood before the portal, the edges of it crackling with dark tendrils of raw energy—neither stable nor entirely earthly. It was a tear, an unhealed wound in the fabric between this world and another. One he had torn open by force, not ceremony. He didn’t flinch as the magic licked across his skin. Pain meant little to him now. Not after what he had sacrificed. From a shelf nearby, he retrieved a dark crystal, slick with shadow-magic, and embedded with a sliver of bone from a creature long extinct in the mortal world. It pulsed faintly in his hand, as if eager to serve. He turned and dropped it into the heart of the portal, murmuring a curse in a forgotten tongue. The portal shuddered—then pulsed wider, steadier.
A figure began to emerge from the other side. She stepped from the shadows like smoke made flesh. A woman cloaked in ink-black robes, her skin pale as moonlight and her eyes a piercing, unnatural violet. Her movements were soundless, precise. She bowed her head slightly—but her smile was sharp as broken glass. “Adrian,” she said, voice silken and sweet. “You called.” “I need your eyes on them,” he said, stepping down from the altar. “Elizabeth Hudson. She’s awakened the relic. She’s remembering. I want to know how far it goes—and how quickly.” The woman tilted her head. “You want me to kill her?” Adrian’s lips curled, but not in amusement. “No. Not yet. I want you to unsettle her. Confuse her. Stir the memories until she doesn’t know what’s real. Feed her doubt. Let Nicholas run himself ragged trying to keep her steady. And if you get the chance… remind her that she chose me once. That she loved me.” The woman’s smile widened. “Twist the past until she begs to forget it again. I can do that.” “And Nicholas?” “Let her lean on him.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It’ll make the breaking all the more satisfying.”
Adrian stepped forward, holding her gaze. “This is no longer just a game. If she connects the relic to the bindings, she’ll start to see through everything. The truth. Me. You. What we are.” Her expression flickered then—almost a shadow of doubt. But it passed. “I’ll move tonight,” she said. “They won’t even know I was near. Until it’s too late.” With a breath of cold air, she turned and vanished back into the shadows, the portal warping closed behind her. Alone again, Adrian stared at the basin’s waters, now calm once more. Elizabeth’s face lingered there. For a moment, something flickered in his expression. Not regret. Not love. Something darker. Older. “She remembers the promise,” he murmured. “Now let’s see if she remembers the price.”
The city air had shifted by the time Elizabeth, Nicholas, and Lilith emerged from the cathedral ruins. What had once been heavy with magic now felt… thinner, like something had been taken or tampered with in their absence. The sky above them was layered in silvered clouds, casting a bluish hue over the streets below, and for the first time all day, Elizabeth noticed how quiet the world had become. Too quiet. They walked in silence for a while, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Elizabeth clutched the spellcloth-wrapped relic tightly to her chest, the warmth of it pulsing faintly against her ribs. She didn’t need to ask the others—she could feel it: something had shifted since they’d entered the ruins. Something out there had stirred in response. Halfway home, she stopped. Nicholas turned immediately. “What is it?” She closed her eyes. A chill had threaded through her spine—light, almost imperceptible—but it hadn’t come from the weather. “I don’t know,” she said slowly, scanning the shadows. “It’s like something brushed against me. Not a spell. More like a whisper.” Lilith moved closer, pulling out a charm from her pocket. It pulsed weakly, a faint flicker of gold before fading. “Something was here,” she said, brows furrowed. “A presence. Watching. But clever enough to vanish before I could trace it.” Nicholas’s jaw clenched. “Adrian.” Elizabeth met his eyes. “You felt it too.” “Only for a second,” he admitted. “Like a hand reaching through glass.” They picked up their pace after that, ducking into side streets, avoiding open paths. When they reached the apartment, Nicholas circled the block twice before joining them upstairs.
Back inside, the familiar walls brought some comfort, but even that felt thinner now. More fragile. Elizabeth placed the relic gently on the altar space they had created in the living room, surrounding it with salt, lavender, and warding runes. Lilith added a spell-lock and several concealment sigils. But even with the protection, the apartment felt different. Like something had noticed them. Nicholas didn’t sit down. He remained by the window, watching the street below. “I’ve fought with Adrian before,” he said. “But this... this feels different. He’s not coming straight for us anymore. He’s circling. Sending shadows. Whispering.” Elizabeth sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers absently twisting the hem of her shirt. “Why now? Why her?” she asked softly, meaning the presence she’d felt. Lilith came to sit beside her, placing a warm hand over hers. “Because she’s not just some spy, Liz. She’s one of Adrian’s binds. She’s been with him through centuries. She knows how to unravel people.” Nicholas turned from the window, eyes dark and unreadable. “She’ll try to use your past against you. Twist the memories you’re recovering. You need to remember that whatever she shows you—it’s not the full truth. You chose a different path in this life. You’re not hers. You’re not his.” Elizabeth looked at them both, steady now. “Then we make our own moves next. We stay ahead of them. We learn faster, dig deeper, and we stop letting them control the narrative.” A beat of silence. Then Lilith grinned faintly. “That’s the spirit.”
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm was coming. But this time, they were ready for it. The storm didn’t break that night. It simply loomed—an ever-present weight above the city, pressing down with a hush that made even the wind hold its breath. Inside the apartment, Elizabeth finally drifted into sleep well past midnight, the wards flickering soft and golden at the corners of the room. Lilith had reinforced them three times. Nicholas hadn’t spoken much. But his chair by the window remained occupied long after the candles burned out. Elizabeth's dreams came slowly, like mist rolling in from a far-off shore. At first, it was warmth. A memory of laughter, firelight, a hand gently brushing hers in the dark. She saw a version of herself—barefoot in a garden at night, flowers blooming beneath her steps, Nicholas standing just out of reach, smiling like he had no scars. No past. Only the two of them. But the dream began to change. The stars dimmed. The flowers withered. The scene twisted.
She blinked, and suddenly Nicholas was farther away. His smile gone. His back turned. The sky above them bled into red. A shadow stepped between them—a figure cloaked in black smoke and violet light. The presence was feminine, graceful, but utterly still. Elizabeth tried to move, but her feet were heavy, rooted like stone. The woman turned. Her face was pale, beautiful, but her eyes were all wrong. Not empty—but too full of knowing. Of time. Of something cruel pretending to be kind. “You remember me,” the woman said softly, her voice like velvet soaked in venom. Elizabeth’s pulse pounded in her ears. “No. I don’t.” “But your magic does.” The woman took a slow step forward. “We’ve met in more lifetimes than you can count. You always choose wrong in the end.” Elizabeth braced herself, trying to summon her magic—but nothing came. She was bound in this dream. “You're not real,” she snapped. “You’re just a shadow Adrian sent.” “I am so much more than that,” the woman whispered, suddenly inches away. “You trusted me once. You followed me to the edge of death. And you chose him. Not Nicholas.” Elizabeth trembled, heart thudding painfully. “That wasn’t me. That was a different life.” The woman’s smile widened. “And yet the choice always returns.” Images flashed before Elizabeth’s eyes—her face in a different era, crying in the rain, standing beside Adrian as entire worlds burned behind them. A kiss shared. A hand held too long. A tearful farewell twisted by betrayal. Elizabeth gasped, wrenching her arm back as if burned. “Stop!” But the woman only tilted her head. “Soon, you’ll remember everything. And when you do, you’ll wonder if Nicholas ever really stood a chance.” The dream world trembled, and a sharp wind whipped through it—chilling and furious. Suddenly, Nicholas appeared beside her, his presence slicing through the dream like moonlight through fog. He grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist. “I’ve got you,” he said. The woman hissed, her form splintering like smoke struck by lightning. “Not yet. But soon.” And the world shattered.
Elizabeth awoke with a gasp, bolting upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Nicholas was already at her side, his hand steady on her shoulder. “I felt her,” he said grimly. “She tried to bind you. She left a trace.” Elizabeth nodded slowly, still catching her breath. “She showed me… fragments. Of the past. Of choices. She wants me to question everything.” Nicholas met her eyes, fierce and unwavering. “Then we won’t give her that power. You’re not alone, Elizabeth. Not this time.” Outside, thunder finally cracked across the sky. And for the first time in centuries, the war of memory had truly begun. The apartment was still asleep when Elizabeth slipped quietly from her bed. Moonlight stretched in silver ribbons across the wooden floor, catching on the scattered books and candles from the night before. The wards glowed faintly at the windows, their protective shimmer undisturbed. She paused by her door, listening—no footsteps, no voices. Lilith’s bedroom was silent. Nicholas was likely still keeping watch by the front window, but he wouldn’t stop her. Not if she moved like shadow. Barefoot, she padded across the apartment, every step measured, heart thudding in a careful rhythm. She didn’t want to lie—not to Lilith, not to Nicholas—but the dream had shaken something loose. That woman, that presence Adrian had sent, had peeled back a veil Elizabeth couldn’t ignore. And the relic still pulsed, quietly, on the altar. She knelt before it, breath held as she drew the protective cloth aside.
The orb shimmered beneath her fingers, its light dim but alive. It welcomed her touch again—recognizing her not as a stranger, but as something bound to it. Made for it. As if her magic and this memory were pieces of the same thread. “I need to see it,” she whispered. “All of it. Not the twisted version. Not the shadows.” The orb pulsed once, then bathed her in sudden warmth. Her eyes fluttered shut. And she fell—gracefully, as if pulled through silk—into memory. This time, she stood in a throne room made of obsidian and flame. Not a palace in any real sense, but a chamber of power. Arched ceilings with constellations etched in gold. Firelight danced from sconces shaped like dragon wings. She was dressed in red—elegant, severe. Her hands bore rings etched with runes she now understood. And Adrian stood before her—not quite as he was now, but younger, wild-eyed, his hair longer, his armor stained with ash. Behind him, that same woman from the dream—her shadowy presence lingering just out of reach. Elizabeth—no, Elara, in this vision—spoke with a voice that was hers and not hers. “We can’t keep pretending we’re winning. The veil is fracturing.” Adrian moved closer, voice gentle. “Then let’s tear it open. Let’s stop hiding. We were made to rule beyond these walls.” “You mean conquer.” Her lips curled bitterly. “I mean survive.” His hand brushed hers. “We’re too powerful to be servants of fear. Join me. All the way.” There was pain in her gaze, then. Deep and ancient. She turned her back on him in that memory—but lingered. A choice made slowly. Then the vision fractured again—now a battlefield, and Nicholas was there too, in dark armor with his sigil glowing faintly. He looked straight at her, blood on his cheek and betrayal in his eyes. “You knew what Adrian was becoming,” he said. “You stood beside him anyway.” Elara didn’t deny it.
Elizabeth gasped and snapped back into the present. She was kneeling on the floor, the relic still glowing faintly beneath her hand, but her body was shaking. Her palms tingled with residual magic, and her heart ached with a memory she hadn’t lived—and yet had. Adrian hadn’t lied entirely. She had chosen him. Once. But the end of the vision—the war, the regret—it told another truth: she had also turned away. “Elizabeth?” The voice broke the silence like a match to dry paper. She looked up to see Nicholas in the doorway, watching her with quiet intensity. He didn’t move closer—just waited. “I needed to know,” she whispered. “If what she said was real.” Nicholas stepped into the light, kneeling beside her. “And now that you’ve seen it?” “I made a mistake,” she said. “A long time ago. But I also tried to stop it. Tried to fight back. I think… I think Adrian’s afraid I’ll remember the part where I chose you.” Nicholas reached forward, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Then we’ll find the rest of the truth. Together.” The relic glowed once more at their feet, softer now.
The morning sun filtered gently through the kitchen curtains, casting a golden wash across the counters where Lilith stood steeping tea—her usual combination of rosehip, lavender, and something just slightly bitter that always calmed the nerves. The quiet clinking of porcelain and spoons masked the light creak of Elizabeth’s steps as she entered, still barefoot, still caught in the echo of what she’d seen in the night. Lilith glanced over her shoulder, her knowing smile already in place. “You touched the relic again, didn’t you?” Elizabeth paused, then nodded. “Yeah.” Lilith sighed, not in annoyance, but in the kind of fond exasperation only someone who loved you deeply could manage. “Figured. You had that ‘I’ve-just-uncovered-a-past-life’s-worth-of-emotional-weight’ look about you.” Elizabeth gave a breathless laugh, sinking into the nearest chair. “It’s that obvious?” “You’re practically vibrating.” Lilith placed a mug in front of her, then sat across the table, wrapping both hands around her own cup. “So. Tell me everything.” Elizabeth took a sip, the heat grounding her, before setting the mug down and exhaling deeply. “I saw Elara,” she began softly. “Me, but… different. More powerful. More jaded. She stood in a throne room with Adrian. He asked her to join him—said they were too powerful to hide anymore.” Lilith’s expression grew still. “And did she?” Elizabeth hesitated. “For a time. She didn’t agree with him… but she didn’t stop him either. There was love there, or something twisted close to it. He believed they were destined.” Lilith leaned forward, eyes sharp with concern. “Did you believe it?” “In that life?” Elizabeth stared into her tea. “Maybe. For a while. But I saw more. I saw the war. I saw Nicholas on the battlefield, bloodied, betrayed. And me—Elara—standing between them.” “And which way did you turn?” Lilith asked gently. Elizabeth looked up, her eyes shining. “Away from Adrian.” Lilith’s expression softened. “Then that’s what matters.” “But it’s more than that,” Elizabeth murmured. “Adrian’s sending that woman—his shadow—to twist my memories. She showed me pieces to make me question my loyalty. But now I see what he’s afraid of. If I remember who I was, all the way to the end, I’ll remember that I chose differently. That I fought back.” Lilith nodded slowly. “He’s playing with mirrors and half-truths. He’s afraid of your full memory because he can’t rewrite it once you own it.”
They sat in thoughtful silence for a long moment before Lilith added, “You’re doing the right thing, Liz. Looking. Questioning. But don’t carry it alone, okay?” Elizabeth nodded, her voice quieter now. “I’m just… scared that I’m not strong enough. Not yet.” Lilith reached across the table and took her hand. “You don’t have to be strong yet. You just have to keep going. That’s how you become strong.” There was a pause, a comfort in the simplicity of her words. Then Lilith added with a sly grin, “Also, Nicholas looks like he hasn’t slept since the 1800s. Maybe tell him you still like him after all your past-life drama. Poor guy’s ready to throw himself at fate for you.” Elizabeth laughed, the tension breaking just a little. “I’ll tell him tonight. After we dig deeper into this relic.” Lilith raised her mug. “To digging. And surviving whatever ancient drama we were reincarnated into.” Elizabeth clinked hers softly in return. “And rewriting it.”
The apartment had shifted into preparation mode—quiet, efficient, and laced with tension. Books lay open across the floor, their pages brimming with ancient diagrams, sigils, and notations in languages only Lilith could fluently translate. Candles burned steadily at every warded corner. The scent of crushed herbs and incense clung to the air like the breath of old magic. Nicholas stood at the center of the room with his arms folded, his eyes scanning a summoning diagram Lilith had begun to chalk into the floor. It was defensive rather than binding, meant not to trap but to expose. Meant to reveal the shadows hiding beneath skin and illusion. “She’ll come again,” Nicholas said grimly. “Adrian never sends someone once. He’ll test the weak points until he finds one.” Elizabeth knelt nearby, running her fingers over the spell-runes etched into the chalk. Her magic responded to them—less erratic now, more focused. “Then let’s make sure the second time isn’t like the first.” “She got into your head,” Nicholas said, looking down at her. “She twisted pieces of the past and used them against you. That’s not just magic—it’s venom. Psychological.” “I know,” Elizabeth replied, standing. “But I’ve tasted her magic now. I know its rhythm. I’ll feel her coming.”
Lilith entered from the other room, arms full of talismans—handcrafted, freshly enchanted, humming with layered protection. She began placing them around the room, muttering charms under her breath. “This setup won’t stop her,” Lilith said. “But it’ll slow her down. Long enough for us to see what she really looks like. Shadows don’t like being seen.” Nicholas handed Elizabeth a thin obsidian dagger etched with glowing runes. “This will cut through glamours. Not flesh—just illusion. If she gets close enough, use it.” Elizabeth accepted it silently, feeling the hum of energy thrumming through the blade. “What if she doesn’t come to talk this time?” “Then we stop talking too,” Nicholas said darkly. Lilith looked up. “We won’t win by brute strength. She’s a manipulator. She’ll try to divide us, weaken our trust in each other. That’s how she works. She’s not here for a duel—she’s here for erosion.” Elizabeth glanced between them. “Then we don’t let her crack us. We hold the line.” The lights in the apartment dimmed just slightly—not from the power, but from the air itself growing heavier. Nicholas’s head snapped toward the window. “She’s near.” Lilith dropped the last charm into place. “Wards are holding. For now.” Elizabeth’s heartbeat slowed. Focused. Her fingers curled tighter around the dagger. “Let her come.” The trio stepped back into a triangle around the sigil on the floor, each one grounded in their own magic, united by something stronger than fear—memory.Choice.
Then the apartment door creaked open—not slammed, not blasted. Just… opened. And in stepped the envoy. She wore a new face this time—soft, unassuming, with ash-brown curls and gentle eyes. She looked like someone you might pass on the street and forget moments later. But the magic trailing behind her? That was unforgettable. It crawled like frost beneath the skin. Nicholas’s eyes flared with recognition. “Drop the glamour. Now.” The woman smiled sweetly. “But I wore it just for her.” She looked at Elizabeth, and for a second, something familiar flickered in her gaze—like an echo from the dream. “I remember you,” Elizabeth said quietly. “But I’m not her anymore.” The woman stepped closer, testing the sigils. “No. You’re just wearing her soul like a coat. But you haven’t earned it.” Nicholas moved forward, the dagger steady in his grip. “One more step, and we will show you who she is now.” The envoy’s expression didn’t change. But her eyes turned black. And the room, just like their pasts, began to tremble. The moment her eyes turned black, the room pulsed with tension—an invisible ripple that rattled every candle flame and pulled the air from Elizabeth’s lungs. Lilith raised both hands, and the sigil on the floor ignited with golden light, a perfect ring of ancient magic erupting beneath the envoy’s feet. It wasn’t binding her—but it was revealing her. The disguise melted away like ash caught in a breeze. Gone was the sweet, forgettable face. In its place stood a creature formed of layered beauty and menace—tall, elegant, cloaked in shadow like silk that moved independently of her body. Her eyes shimmered with ancient power, and dark runes pulsed faintly along her collarbones and wrists like branding. “Better,” Nicholas said flatly. “Now we see you.”
The envoy tilted her head. “Seeing me and surviving me are different things, vampire.” And then the sigil cracked. Not completely—but spiderweb fractures danced across the outer ring as she pressed her magic against it, like fingers tapping glass from the inside. Elizabeth stepped forward before Nicholas could. Her magic burned under her skin now—not wild, not chaotic. Ready. “I’m not your vessel anymore,” she said, voice strong. “And I won’t be manipulated again.” The envoy smiled faintly, and then the first wave of her power slammed into the room. A surge of force hit the wards—twisting shadows, whispering memories, disorienting spirals meant to unravel. Candles extinguished instantly, plunging the room into flickering half-light. But Lilith was ready—she slammed her staff into the floor, reactivating the defensive net. Sparks flew as the wards held, pulsing around the edges like a heartbeat made of lightning. Nicholas moved first—blade in hand, he darted along the edge of the sigil, slicing into the glamours she kept layering over herself like veils. Every swing peeled something back: a false smile, a ghostly chain, a half-spoken curse meant to mislead. Elizabeth focused inward—summoning the spell Lilith had helped her craft. A binding of will. Not to trap, but to anchor. She pressed one hand to her chest, whispered the incantation, and stepped into the center of the circle, directly in front of the envoy. “Show me what you really are,” Elizabeth demanded. The envoy laughed—a sound too full of voices, too layered with memory. “You were fire once,” she said. “Do you think this little life you’ve built changes what’s inside you?” “I know it does,” Elizabeth said—and then unleashed her magic. It didn’t explode. It rose.
From the center of her chest, it expanded outward in waves—light tinged with gold and violet, threads of memory and intention laced together. It struck the envoy dead-on, and the creature reeled—not in pain, but in disbelief. “You’re still bound to him,” she hissed, voice trembling. “You always are.” “I’m not,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth. “Not anymore.” The envoy shrieked and launched another burst of shadow—this one sharp, like knives of memory, each one aimed at Elizabeth’s mind. Flashes of betrayal, loss, heartbreak— But Elizabeth stood still. And Nicholas was at her side in an instant, his hand gripping hers, grounding her. “You don’t get to twist her anymore,” he said. Behind them, Lilith finished her chant—and the circle sealed. The envoy screamed—not in pain, but in rage—as the light poured from the sigils and enclosed her in a sphere of shimmering truth. She clawed at the edge, but this time, she couldn’t break it. Elizabeth stepped closer. “You’re going to take a message back to Adrian,” she said calmly. “I remember who I was. But I also remember who I became. And this time, we’re not going to lose.” The envoy’s eyes blazed. “I am not his messenger.” “Then be his warning.” Elizabeth raised her palm—and with a final pulse of power, the circle flared, forcing the envoy’s shadowy body backward—out of the spell, out of the apartment, through the open portal Lilith summoned just in time. The portal sealed behind her with a boom that shook the floorboards.
Silence fell. Elizabeth stood in the center of the circle, breathing hard, sweat trickling down her temple. Nicholas and Lilith moved closer, neither speaking for a moment. The air was still charged—thick with magic and adrenaline—but the danger had passed. And this time, Elizabeth hadn’t faltered. “She’ll be back,” Nicholas said, not as a warning—but as a truth. “Then we’ll be ready,” Elizabeth replied. Lilith let out a long breath. “Okay. That was hot. Also terrifying. But mostly hot.” Elizabeth laughed—weakly, but it was real. The apartment was still glowing faintly with the aftershock of magic when they gathered around the coffee table—cleared now of its usual clutter and transformed into a war table of sorts. Open books, half-burned parchment, scrolls with spells too ancient for their tongues to pronounce easily. But they were ready. There was no turning back. Lilith paced, chewing absently on the end of her pen as she mulled over what they had seen. “So she’s not just a messenger. She’s a weapon. A piece of Adrian’s soul, maybe? Or something bound to him like a tether.” Nicholas leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “She’s a hunter. Trained to unravel. She doesn’t need armies—she just needs time to get inside your head. Elizabeth, if you hadn’t remembered who you were—who you are—she could’ve undone everything.” Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the floor beside the table, the obsidian dagger resting at her knee. “But she didn’t. And now we know her magic. Her face. Her tactics.” Lilith snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up. “And that gives us an edge. Because she left a residue—on the sigil, on the relic, even in the air.” She hurried into the kitchen and returned with a glass vial, scooping a pinch of silver-tinged ash from the cracked floor around the sigil. “If we can trace it, I can find her point of origin.” “You mean… where she came through from,” Elizabeth said. Lilith nodded. “Which means we might finally be able to track the path back to Adrian.”
Nicholas frowned. “But if we follow it, we need protection. Wards, runes, shielding spells... whatever’s on the other side of that path won’t be weak.” Elizabeth glanced toward the relic resting on the altar shelf. “We don’t need to rush straight to Adrian. Not yet. We go through the threads she left behind and see what’s hiding there first. The envoy’s path might lead us to one of Adrian’s sanctuaries.” “Sanctuary or stronghold,” Nicholas added. “Either way, it’s the closest we’ve gotten.” Lilith moved to the chalkboard they’d started treating like a strategy map and began scribbling a sigil-shaped path between points: the relic, the cathedral, the envoy’s portal, and something further out—blank for now. “We’ll need to perform a trail-weaving ritual,” she said. “To track her magical residue through dimensions. It’ll take blood from someone she directly targeted…”
Elizabeth raised her hand. “That’s me.” “…a magical conduit attuned to shifting energies…” Nicholas tilted his head slightly. “That’s me.” “…and a ritual anchor to hold the link in this realm.” Lilith grinned. “Obviously, me.” Nicholas stood. “We do it soon. Tonight, if we can. The envoy’s just been forced back, but she’ll reform. And Adrian will know.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady. “Then we find where they’re hiding, and we hit first.” A beat passed between them, that subtle exchange of fire and resolve only three people who’d been through too much could share. Then Lilith said, “Okay. We’ll need candles, obsidian dust, and at least one moonstone. I’m not saying we steal from that occult shop down the road, but they definitely owe me a favor.” Nicholas cracked a rare smile. “No fire this time.” “I make no promises.” Elizabeth stood, brushing ash from her palms. “Let’s start gathering what we need. Tonight, we map the envoy’s trail. And after that... we go hunting.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYPBL2viJf9
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