Ezra pressed his back against the ancient shelving, slowing his breaths to avoid making a sound. The two hooded figures flowed through the Forbidden Archive's main corridor — a pair of black-cloaked mage-hunters whose magic glimmered faintly with a sinister aura. His pulse pounded in his ears, yet he forced himself into a state of calm, drawing upon Felton Harper's training.
He pressed a rune of silence into his own sternum — a rune Felton had insisted he learn to aid him in moments of danger. The rune glowed faintly against his skin, dampening his pulse and muting his breaths. The two intruders passed by without noticing him, their voices a chorus of urgency.
"That tome… Harper's notes… We must destroy them before the conspiracy unravels."
"That, or bring them back to the Council."
"The Council cannot wait much longer. The artifact's power must be secured — at all costs."
Ezra tightened his grip on Felton's journal, wondering just how much danger he was in. Whatever the conspiracy was, Felton Harper had stumbled upon something much greater — something the academy's highest governing body was eager to control. Felton's notes made it clear: the Eye of Felthurn was not a curse or a danger in its own right — but a key. A key to reshaping magic itself. The question was: for whom?
He let the two move forward and then slipped quietly after them, following their path upward toward the academy's upper floors. His magic kept him sheltered from their senses, a shimmering barrier that rendered him nearly invisible.
He turned a corner — then fell directly into someone.
He staggered backward, nearly dropping Felton's journal.
The person he collided with turned, piercing him with piercing silver-blue eyes — a young woman, a mage-prisoner kept in the academy's upper catacombs. Her aura was wild and raw — magic barely contained by shimmering rune-cuffs.
"That tome… Felton Harper's notes… you have them, don't you?" the woman whispered. "I can feel their magic. Felton… he tried to aid me… until they captured him."
Her voice trembled, a mixture of resentment, agony, and disbelief.
"That makes you… the last one…"
Ezra forced himself to remain calm. "Who are you? What do you mean—the last one?"
The woman pressed forward. "My name is Callista Valeheart. Felton Harper's… prisoner. And you… you may be the only person left who can redeem magic before it falls into eternal chaos."
Callista held up her manacled hands. The rune-cuffs glowed faintly with a magic that kept her power bound. "Release me… and I will aid you. We can destroy their plans… together."
She paused. "But know this: a price must be paid. Magic… cannot be free without a sacrifice."
Ezra tightened his grip on Felton's journal and nodded reluctantly. "All right. I'll release you — but you must help me uncover the conspiracy. Felton's death must not be in vain."
He pressed his magic into the rune-cuffs, unlocking them with a delicate rune-cutting motif Felton had recorded in his notes. The metal fell away with a heavy thunk, and Callista fell forward, bracing herself against him.
"The first step," Callista said quietly, "is a Pact of Shadows — a vow forged in magic. We must combine our fates. Once made, there's no turning back…"