Unknown POV
Night settled quietly over the valley.
From a distance, the Arcanum looked peaceful.
Ancient stone towers rose from the forest like forgotten monuments, their silver ward-lines glowing faintly against the dark. To anyone who did not know what they were looking at, it might have seemed like nothing more than an abandoned monastery hidden among the mountains.
But the man watching from the ridge knew better.
Very few places in the supernatural world were truly safe.
And the Arcanum had always believed itself to be the safest of them all.
He adjusted the lens of the small obsidian device resting against his eye. The artifact hummed softly as it focused, its surface flickering with faint sigils as it pierced through layers of illusion and protective wards.
The witches had grown confident.
Centuries of isolation would do that.
They trusted their shields.
Trusted their ancient magic.
Trusted the belief that no outsider could ever breach their sanctuary.
