Season 1 Episode 3 — Opening
The hum tore through Lucien's skull like splintered glass, vibrating against the wards in his skin. He gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body tightening against the pressure. Sage's eyes were wrong—dark from edge to edge, the kind of wrong that made instinct scream.
"Stay with me," he said, but his voice was drowned in the sound.
—Sage's Mind—
She wasn't in the hall anymore. She stood barefoot in a field of black water that reflected no light. The hum was a current here, tugging her forward. Something shifted beneath the surface—shapes with too many joints and eyes that shone faintly, like moons under ice.
"You've been away too long," the voice said, curling through her like smoke.
She shook her head. "You're not real."
It laughed softly. "I made you. I am the part of you that never left."
—Lucien — Present—
The wards along his forearms burned hot, their light carving through the dim like a brand. He pressed the dagger's flat side against her temple, willing the symbols etched into the steel to bite through whatever was inside her. "Let her go," he growled.
Her body convulsed once, twice—then stilled. The hum spiked.
—Sage's Mind—
The water rose to her knees, cold enough to numb the skin. The shapes beneath moved faster now. The voice grew louder, closer.
"They'll hurt you out there. Here, you'll never be alone."
"I'm not alone." She clung to the image of Lucien's face, the way his jaw tightened when he was scared, though he'd never admit it. It flickered in the dark like a candle about to go out.
—Lucien — Present—
Her hand shot up, fast as a snake, closing around his wrist. Her strength was wrong, more than muscle. The wards hissed under her grip, light faltering.
"Not hers," the thing inside her said, smiling through her mouth.
Lucien shoved back, locking eyes with her. "Then I'll burn you out."
Lucien — Present
The pressure doubled, crushing against his ribs, making each breath a fight. His wards strained—thin cracks of heat licking up his arms like fire threatening to go out. If they failed, whatever was inside her would pour into him next.
Her grip on his wrist tightened until the bones ground together.
"Lucien," the voice crooned through her mouth, almost gentle. "You don't have to fight me. You could join her. We could make you whole."
He bared his teeth. "I'm not yours."
The dagger's edge kissed her skin, silver humming under the contact. The wards flared, and for a heartbeat—just one—he saw something behind her eyes that was hers. Fear.
Sage's Mind
She stumbled back in the black water, chest heaving. Lucien's voice cut through the darkness—not as sound, but as heat curling against her spine. It kept the cold from swallowing her.
The surface broke. One of the shapes rose—limbs too long, head tilted at the exact angle she remembered from every nightmare. Its smile was the same.
"You don't belong to him," it said. "You belong home."
She turned, and the endless black stretched behind her. No archways, no hall, no way back—except the faint line of light ahead. It pulsed with each word Lucien spoke in the real world.
Her fists clenched. "I don't belong to you either."
The water surged upward, wrapping around her waist, dragging her down.
Lucien — Present
Her knees buckled, and he caught her with his free arm. "Sage!" The hum faltered, replaced by a shriek that made his ears ring. He pushed, every ounce of will forcing the wards brighter, pressing the dagger harder against her temple.
Light seared across her skin—not burning, but peeling something away.
Sage's Mind
The water shattered, splashing away into nothing. She gasped, the cold gone—but the shadow-creature was still there, standing inches from her.
It leaned in, whispering against her ear. "You can't kill what you are."
She grabbed its wrist—mirroring Lucien's grip on her in the real world—and for the first time, the thing flinched.
Lucien — Present
Her eyes rolled back, and the hum broke off into silence. The wards dimmed, but the pressure in the hall didn't ease.
That's when he felt it—something moving behind him.
He turned just in time to see the same smile staring at him from the shadows, separate from Sage entirely.
Lucien's breath caught as the shadow in the hall stepped forward, no longer just a lurking threat but fully manifest—a twisted mirror of the thing inside Sage. Its eyes burned with the same black fire, lips curling into that impossible smile.
"You thought you could contain me," it hissed, voice like dry leaves scraping stone. "But I am many. And now, I am free."
Behind him, Sage trembled, eyes fluttering open with a spark of life but still glazed with the residue of the entity's hold.
Lucien tightened his grip on the dagger, turning on his heel. "You'll regret that."
The creature lunged, claws slicing through the stale air. Lucien dodged, sliding across cracked stone, wards flaring fiercely as he swung the dagger in a wide arc. The blade met shadow and hissed, but didn't cut deep.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sage stagger, still fighting whatever lingered inside her. The hum flickered weakly but didn't fully vanish.
He shouted, "Sage! Focus on me—hold onto this!"
Her voice was a rasp. "I'm trying... but it's everywhere."
The hall shook as the shadow-creature slammed its fists into the walls, sending dust and debris falling like rain. Lucien ducked another swipe and rolled forward, dagger slashing at the creature's leg. A thin line of silver traced across black flesh, and the thing shrieked—part human, part nightmare.
"Your light won't save her!" it snarled.
Lucien's hands burned, wards flaring beyond their limit. "I don't have to save her. She's fighting. You're the one who's trapped."
A sudden flash of movement behind the creature caught Lucien's attention—Sage, her eyes clearing, a faint glow pulsing beneath her skin where the hum had lived.
She stepped forward, voice steady but fierce. "You don't own me."
The shadow turned, snarling, but Lucien took the chance—driving the dagger deep into the creature's chest, silver burning bright as hellfire.
The thing screamed—a sound ripped from the abyss—and dissolved into writhing smoke, retreating back into the shadows.
Lucien lowered the dagger, chest heaving, eyes searching Sage's face. The hum was gone.
But the war was far from over.
The silence after the scream felt heavier than the fight. Dust hung in the air, particles shimmering faintly in the dying light filtering through shattered windows.
Lucien sank to one knee, fingers trembling as he pulled the dagger free. His arm throbbed where the creature had clawed him, but that pain was small compared to the weight pressing on his chest.
Sage stood nearby, still shaky but whole—her eyes clearer now, but haunted. The hum that had been part of her faded to a whisper, like a ghost retreating into the dark.
"Whatever that was…" Lucien said, voice rough. "It wasn't just a spirit. It was inside you."
She met his gaze, steady despite the exhaustion. "It came from the wards."
Lucien's brow furrowed. "The wards are supposed to protect you. How?"
Sage's fingers curled, her knuckles white. "I don't know yet. But it's a part of me now. And if it's tied to the wards…" Her voice dropped. "It can come back."
He nodded slowly. "We'll find a way to fight it. Together."
Outside, the wind howled through the ruins, carrying a faint echo—a whisper on the edge of hearing.
Come home.
Lucien's eyes snapped to the darkened archway. "This is far from over."
Sage inhaled, the weight of what lay ahead settling in her bones. "No. It's only just begun."