Kaela Veyne leaned against the polished obsidian wall outside the council chamber, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the hilt of her concealed dagger. Her magic still crackled under her skin, despite the tension in the room finally diffusing. The emergency meeting had ended but no one had answers.
Only dread.
Aelira. The name of a ghost. A whisper from a world long buried.
The Lifebinder.
She exhaled sharply. "Well, shit."
Footsteps echoed behind her. She didn't turn.
"Kaela," came Lucien's voice low, precise, and entirely too knowing. "You vanished quickly."
She allowed herself a smile. "Didn't think you'd miss me."
He stepped beside her, black coat brushing hers. "You always assume I don't."
She tilted her head toward him, eyes gleaming. "And yet, you haven't denied it."
Lucien's smirk didn't reach his eyes. "Eylira's words aren't to be taken lightly. The prophecy… it's worse than we thought."
Kaela nodded, face hardening. "Losing our powers is one thing. Facing a creature like that as humans? That's suicide."
Lucien's golden eyes darkened. "The Hollowborn hasn't stirred in over two thousand years. If the seal is breaking, it means something… or someone… is accelerating it."
Kaela thought back to the ancient texts she had once stolen from the forbidden archives. The Hollowborn. An entity of rot and void older than the Concord, older than memory. It consumed the very essence of what made supernatural beings supernatural.
"Eylira said the ancient Concord faced it. Barely survived. Sealed it through… what? Ritual? Sacrifice?"
Lucien's silence was answer enough.
"She also said the first seal was made by the Lifebinder. Aelira." Kaela straightened, pacing now. "She disappeared with the fall of the original Concord. If she's the key, we need to start hunting yesterday."
Lucien's expression shifted. "We will. I'm assigning investigative teams quietly. The Concord can't show weakness."
Kaela scoffed. "We're bleeding weakness. They can smell it."
He looked at her then not as Warden, but as him. "That's why I need you to lead the primary search."
She blinked. "You want me?"
"No one else can handle a mission this politically sensitive and dangerous. And no one knows how to weave between factions better."
Kaela's lips curved in a wry smile. "And here I thought you kept me around for my charm."
"That too," he murmured.
She rolled her eyes but felt her heartbeat flutter.
"I want you to pick your team. Personally," Lucien added. "Start with the vice seats. Use anyone you trust. Keep it small. The other races are already sniffing weakness."
Kaela sighed. "That's the problem. Trust is in short supply these days."
Lucien's gaze never wavered. "Then make them trust you."
-----
Later, in the Hall of Echoes the Spellcaster wing of the Concord Tower Kaela stared at the roster of her squad. Five members. All talented. All with different degrees of loyalty.
Vice Seat Verran Mythe – a stage three illusionist with Mirrorbind and Misstep Step. Calm, collected, and the only one Kaela ever considered an equal in manipulation.
Seris Alwyn – a dryad hybrid with enchantment flair. Young, sarcastic, but fiercely loyal to Kaela. Specializes in emotional influence magic.
Torren Vale – a rogue human with affinity to disruption magic. Limited in power but incredibly crafty. He once dismantled an entire ritual with a toothpick and sarcasm.
Ilara – a mute banshee with resonance control. Not much of a talker, but her abilities were terrifying and beautiful. Loyal, but unpredictable.
Mirex – a demon-blooded artifact wielder. Uses enchanted tools rather than raw magic. Highly practical, morally flexible, drinks too much.
Kaela smirked. "This was going to be fun."
She flicked her fingers, sending out silver-threaded glyphs to summon her squad.
Time to begin.
-----
The next day, the team assembled in the Spellcaster Hall's war room. Everyone except Ilara was talking over one another.
"This some ghost hunt or ancient treasure crap?" Mirex asked, tossing a coin in the air.
Seris sighed dramatically. "More like 'find the lost immortal grandma or we all die powerless and naked' quest."
Torren leaned back in his chair. "Wait. Do we get to punch people?"
Kaela raised a hand. Silence.
"I'll make this quick. The Oracle had a vision. A catastrophe is coming. We lose our powers in five years. Humanity's our new gig. And we get to greet the end of the world as squishy mortals."
Mirex whistled. "That's bad."
"We're tasked with finding someone from the First Concord. Her name is Aelira. The Lifebinder. She might be the only chance we have of fixing this."
Verran tilted his head. "You're not telling us everything."
Kaela smiled thinly. "Of course not. But I'm telling you enough to save your lives."
Ilara nodded once. That was enough for her.
"Where do we start?" Seris asked, a little too eager.
Kaela turned to the map behind her. A projection shimmered, showing a region in the remote outskirts of Scotland.
"Last known location of Aelira according to what scraps I could steal from the Oracle's personal archive. She vanished after a battle near the ruins of Greythorn Hollow."
"Let me guess," Torren muttered. "Haunted, warded, cursed, and crawling with cryptids?"
Kaela smiled brightly. "All of the above."
-----
Three hours later, they were aboard a Concord transport a sleek obsidian-winged craft cloaked in illusion. Kaela stood at the front, watching clouds blur past.
She wasn't sure what they'd find in Greythorn Hollow. A corpse? A shrine? A clue?
But one thing was clear.
If the prophecy was real—and she believed it was—then their time was already running out.
Five years. Then nothing.
Nothing but blood, and fear, and the Hollowborn.
And Kaela Veyne had never planned to die quietly.