Gail sat in the cold stillness of the dungeon cell, a place far removed from the golden halls of Moonstone Academy. The walls were made of obsidian brick etched with faint sigils meant to suppress any trace of magical resistance.
The only light in the room came from a single lantern flickering outside her cell door, casting long, crooked shadows across the floor.
Her wrist, once proudly bearing the radiant mark of the Golden Sands Apprentice, was now marred—no, defaced—by a magic-binding seal. The original mark, once shimmering like sun-drenched dunes, with shifting symbols etched in iridescent gold, now barely peeked from beneath the blackened chains of the seal that bound her.
These chains were not physical, but ethereal—shadowy runes wrapped in loops around her wrist, like coiling serpents. Each loop pulsed with dull scarlet light, burning faintly every time she even thought about drawing mana.
Despite the shackles, Gail leaned back against the damp stone wall with a smirk.
