Mist hung over the peaks of Vardheim, and the night air felt colder than usual.
Lyra tried to silence the voices whispering in her head. She stood for a long while on the balcony, watching the shadow she thought she'd seen vanish into the dark. Her cloak swayed lightly in the wind, and her hands trembled with cold.
From behind the stone door came the sound of footsteps. Seren appeared, descending the spiral staircase with steady steps, despite the years and the burden of magic weighing on his body. His white hair fell loosely over his deep-blue robe, the emblem of the Order glowing faintly on his chest.
"Thank the stars, you're here," came a familiar voice from behind.
"Master?" Lyra turned. "What's happening outside? I saw—"
"Lyra, are you still hearing the voices?" Seren interrupted her gently, shifting her attention with a single question.
Lyra nodded slowly. "Sometimes they call from far away. But the more I try to answer, the hotter this mark becomes." She lifted her wrist, where a faint light pulsed beneath her skin. "It burns, like my blood is boiling."
Seren studied her for a long moment, not as a teacher but as someone who knew what it meant to lose something. "There are things we shouldn't touch too soon. Memory can be a bridge, but also a rift. Still, you'll have to face it eventually."
"Are you afraid I'll fall into that rift, Master?" Lyra asked softly, her eyes sharp but her tone calm.
"I'm afraid of seeing you fall into it alone. But I believe you'll find your way through, in time." Seren's voice was low. He looked up at the moon, cracked and trembling among the stars.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the wind and the faint hum of runes circling the tower. Seren exhaled, weary.
"The energy beneath the mountain is growing unstable," he said at last. "We've tried to balance the Resonance at the core of the Order, but the old seal that holds The Veil is weakening. You can feel it too, can't you?"
Lyra tightened her grip on her pendant. "Since yesterday. It feels like something's pressing beneath the earth. Something vast. Master, is it connected to me?"
Seren looked into her eyes, then sighed. "You've grown too fast, Lyra. But there are burdens even your power isn't ready to bear. Forgive me for teaching you too slowly. I haven't been the master you deserved."
"No, please don't say that. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have found my purpose." She shook her head quickly. "I can't just stand by while everyone else fights. I need to know why they're coming for me."
Seren's gaze turned cold, deep as winter. He closed his eyes and gave a faint, tired smile—the kind worn by a man who's lost too many students to ambition and fate. "You truly are your mother's daughter. Those were her words once."
Lyra's expression softened. "You knew my mother well?"
"Better than you might think." Seren looked up at the moon again. "She wasn't only my student. She was our savior. But her story… it's too long for tonight, Lyra."
He raised his hand toward the sky. Blue light flared at his fingertips, tracing a vast sigil in the air, a protection rune that should have remained steady. But tonight, it flickered, its glow faltering like a dying candle.
Lyra watched, unease stirring in her chest. She could feel the Resonance shifting in the air. "Is that normal, Master?"
Seren didn't answer. His eyes stayed on the heavens. Then the sky split open with a flash of blue. For a moment, something like a colossal eye gazed down from behind the clouds before the rift sealed itself again. The Order's bells rang out, deep and urgent. This time, the warning carried fear.
Below them came the sounds of hurried footsteps and shouted orders. Magi raced through the corridors, carrying tomes and Resonance stones. Defense spells began to shimmer across the walls. Seren descended the stairs quickly, and Lyra followed close behind.
"Master Seren!" A young mage ran to meet them. "The seal in the Core Chamber is shaking violently! We've detected a breach forming in the eastern coordinates—"
"Summon all third-tier mages to the lower hall," Seren commanded. "Activate the Tertiary Protection Sigil. No one approaches the core without my leave."
"Yes, Master!"
Lyra tried to match his pace. "Master, what can I do? Let me help!"
"You're still too young to—"
"I'm not a child anymore!" she cut in sharply. She was only ten, but she understood more than they thought. What she lacked wasn't wisdom, but permission—the right to be trusted with the truth.
"You know I can help. I can stabilize minor Resonance fields. You said it yourself, I—"
"You can, but you're not ready for the price," Seren said firmly. His tone wasn't scolding; it was the voice of a father pleading. "Listen to me, Lyra. If The Veil opens, your power will be the first they seek. They'll sense the Resonance in your blood from miles away."
Lyra fell silent. Her eyes wavered, but her fists tightened. "Then tell me why. I don't want to keep hiding from something I don't even understand."
Seren stopped in the middle of the corridor. He turned to her, lowering his voice. "You want to know why The Veil wants you? Because the blood of Veynhart runs in your veins—the blood that once sealed the rift between this world and the dark beyond."
Lyra froze. She remembered the ancient notes she had read in the library's lower archives.
"And your curse," Seren whispered. "Every Veynhart is bound to the world's Resonance. Your mother—" his voice softened, "—gave her life to keep the seal intact. But now, the seal demands a successor."
"A successor?" Lyra's voice broke, barely a whisper.
"The same blood, the same power," Seren said heavily. "And the world always collects its due."
"Master, I don't understand. Please, explain it slowly." Above them, the tower shuddered. The sound of glass cracking echoed from the depths below.
"The seal is breaking," Seren said quickly. "To the lower hall, now."
Lyra followed, her heart pounding, but something fierce had begun to take root inside her—something that refused to be stopped. When they reached the lower hall, blue light from the protective runes danced across the walls like frozen lightning. Dozens of mages stood in a circle, their cloaks whipping under the pressure of rising magic. In the center, the floor had split open, revealing a dark, pulsing wound in the air.
Seren raised his staff high. "Begin the ritual!"
Ancient chants filled the chamber, words unheard for centuries. The air trembled, Resonance swirling like a storm. Lyra stood at the edge, her heart racing. She could feel something watching her from beyond the rift—something cold, calling her name.
The wind tore at her hair, and in her ear, her mother's voice whispered faintly but clearly, "Don't let them touch you, Lyra…"
The blue light shattered. From the rift emerged a shape of black mist with eyes burning blue—the first *Varyn. The air shifted. Every breath froze in their lungs. That night, the Order of Arcanis faced a battle they had never imagined.
꧁𓆩༺✧༻𓆪꧂
*Varyn:creatures born from the cracks between worlds, shaped by the remnants of forbidden magic.