Chapter 1 – The Relic's Call
Rain hissed against the ancient stone walls of St. Aurelia's Monastery. In the candlelit silence, Lyra Vale moved like a shadow between the pillars, her boots whispering on the cold marble.
The relic rested at the altar—a crystal sphere swirling with gold light, humming faintly like it had a heartbeat of its own. She had guarded it for two years. Two years of keeping it from the hands of the Shadowborn, the creatures that walked in darkness and fed on the life-force of the living.
She thought she was alone until the heavy oak doors creaked open. A woman stepped inside—soaked from the rain, black leather clinging to her figure, hair plastered against her cheeks. Her eyes glowed faintly blue in the candlelight.
"I'm Serenya Kael," the stranger said, voice low but steady. "And I think that relic is calling me."
Lyra's hand went to her sword. "People who say that usually mean trouble."
Before Serenya could answer, the candles flickered. The air went cold. From the shadows between the pews, long claws and black eyes emerged. Shadowborn.
Serenya's hands flared with light. She moved before Lyra could stop her, weaving beams of golden energy that cut through the creatures like molten glass. Lyra joined the fight, blade singing, until the last of them turned to ash.
When it was over, Lyra stood staring at Serenya, chest heaving. "Who are you?"
Serenya looked at her like she'd known her forever. "The one you've been waiting for."