The temple bells rang at dawn, their echoes rippling through the city like waves of fire. Elira tightened her cloak and stepped into the morning air, her hand never straying far from the blade hidden beneath the folds of cloth.
The visions still haunted her. The gods had made their will clear—the torn page had awakened, and its vessel was among men. And though they had not spoken his name, her heart whispered it with every breath.
Darian.
She wanted to deny it. She wanted to believe the stranger with frightened eyes was just that—a stranger. But when the bells tolled, she felt it. A tremor in the air, like invisible chains tightening around the city's heart.
The Preserver's words echoed:
Should the shadow rise, only you may sever it.
She pulled her hood lower and moved through the crowded streets. Merchants shouted, children darted between stalls, life carried on as if the world wasn't teetering at the edge of ruin. But Elira saw what others could not the cracks.
A woman stumbled, clutching her throat, gasping for air before regaining her breath and shaking it off as nothing. A man dropped to his knees in the square, trembling as if strangled by unseen hands. No one else reacted. They didn't even see.
Elira's pulse quickened. She knew what this was. The page was playing.
And the vessel was close.
Her eyes scanned the crowd. Too many faces, too much noise. The gods had given her no map, no mark to follow—only her own resolve.
For a moment, doubt gnawed at her. What if I'm wrong? What if I'm hunting the wrong soul?
But then, she felt it. A prickle at the back of her neck, a tug in her chest. A presence heavy with shadow, but tangled with something... human.
Her hand brushed the hilt of her radiant blade, and for a heartbeat she imagined drawing it here, now, before the entire square. Ending the threat before it could spread.
But she hesitated.
Because in her mind, she still saw Darian's face. Not twisted in malice, but wide-eyed, afraid, clinging to a humanity he hadn't yet lost.
She whispered to herself, barely audible over the market's din.
"Please... don't make me choose."
The bell tolled again.
The hunt had begun.