Kael stepped fully in front of Vashen, her hand never leaving the hilt beneath her robe. The obsidian door slammed shut behind him, echoing like a coffin lid. The hallway stretched in eerie silence as the thing wearing Dren approached.
Its footsteps were too soft. No sound of weight. No friction. Like its body was pretending to follow laws it no longer obeyed.
"Get back," Kael whispered, eyes locked on the figure.
"But... that's Dren—" Vashen stammered.
Kael didn't answer. She could feel it. Whatever this was, it wasn't their classmate anymore. The glyph on her shoulder—a defensive rune imbued during her trial at the Brae Spires—began to sting. It only did that when something ancient was near. Not powerful. Not evil. Ancient.
The figure halted ten paces away.
It tilted its head—too far, like its neck had no bones. Its black eyes shimmered, not with light, but with movement. Shapes flowed beneath the surface like something writhing inside.
Then it spoke.
A voice made of wind and sand and grave dirt.
"Your time ends. The Bound has returned."
Kael narrowed her eyes. "The Bound?"
The thing's smile widened impossibly, stretching past human anatomy. A black mist curled from the edges of its mouth.
"Vehrash remembers."
Suddenly it moved.
Too fast.
It surged forward, and Kael raised her arm, casting a barrier rune in mid-air. Light flared—a blinding glyph of golden light—but the figure didn't strike.
It dissolved into shadow, melting into the floor before the barrier could connect. Kael whipped around, heart hammering. Shadows raced across the walls like living smoke. Then—silence again.
Vashen pressed himself against the door, shaking uncontrollably. "What was that…?"
Kael lowered her arm, her voice hoarse. "A warning."
She didn't waste time. She turned, grabbed her cloak, and stuffed a satchel with two runic stones, a crystal dagger, and a folded piece of red-threaded parchment. Then she grabbed Vashen's wrist.
"We're going back to Spandrex."
"What? Are you insane? Did you not see what just—?"
"He's not the source," she snapped. "But he's the key."
As they rushed through the moonlit corridors, Kael's mind churned. Vehrash. That word again. She'd only heard it once, during her research on pre-Founding magic—the kind buried by the Academy. It wasn't just a name. It was a binding. A sealing. The kind used not to trap… but to contain.
They reached the stairwell leading to the lower student domes.
The temperature dropped.
Not by degrees—but drastically. The stone handrail froze under Kael's touch. Frost crept up the walls in feathered veins. Vashen coughed, his breath forming mist.
Something beneath them was alive.
They descended.
When they reached the dome, Kael halted, her body going tense.
The door was open.
Inside—dim candlelight flickered erratically. As if swaying to a breath not their own. The book still lay on the floor, pages fluttering slowly, as if a breeze were turning them.
But Spandrex was gone.
Kael stepped inside cautiously, scanning. The glyph residue from whatever ritual had happened still clung to the air like smoke. Symbols seared into the stone flared faintly. She touched the edge of the book with her foot.
It hummed.
Vashen didn't move.
Suddenly, something fell from the ceiling—a small object. Kael reacted instantly, blade drawn—but it was only a charm. A protective ward. Split down the center.
She recognized it.
Spandrex's.
That meant he didn't leave willingly.
A low hiss rose from the cracks in the floor.
Kael raised her head.
"Show yourself," she whispered.
But the voice that responded wasn't near. It echoed all around.
"You can't protect him. He is the chosen page. And the book has opened."
Kael's eyes widened. "The book... opened itself?"
"No."
The shadow replied.
"He read it aloud."
The candles flared violently. The room shuddered. Vashen screamed, shielding his face.
Kael dropped her blade into a defensive grip.
And then—
All light vanished.