Nymera rose from the horizon like a jagged crown—its towers masked in silver, its spires painted in illusion. Once a city of enlightenment, now it was ruled by the High Seer Talan, who claimed visions long lost.
Caelara and Ashen entered through the western gate, cloaked in peasant garb. The city pulsed with desperation, its people clinging to false prophecy and fear. Caelara could feel the magic in the air—twisted, hollow.
They sought an artifact hidden within the old Catacombs: a fragment of the Oracle Stone, said to restore clarity to one's visions. But the catacombs were sealed, protected by the city's elite Guardians and bound by wards only the Seers could unlock.
Ashen's powers began to awaken. He could sense the fragment's pull, guiding them through the city's labyrinthine markets and hidden alleys.
But they were not alone.
A woman trailed them—Lira, an old acolyte of Caelara's who now served the High Seer. She confronted them in the shadow of the Temple Obscura, torn between loyalty and regret.
"He's dangerous, Caelara. The High Seer says he will bring ruin."
"So says a man who profits from despair," Caelara replied. "He fears the truth."
Lira hesitated, then handed Caelara a sigil—one that would unlock the catacombs.
"For what we once were," she whispered.
Within the catacombs, they faced echoes of the past—ghosts of Oracles who questioned their own visions. Caelara touched the fragment, and light surged through her. Her visions cleared—and with them came a terrible truth:
Ashen was the Harrow.
She gasped, recoiling from him.
"What did you see?" Ashen asked.
Caelara forced a smile. "Only possibilities."
She could not tell him. Not yet.
Outside, the bells of Nymera tolled.
The High Seer knew they were here.
They would have to flee before the city swallowed them whole.
(Continued in Chapter Four: The Temple Below...)