The forest was silent, save for the crackle of a small, hidden fire Kaelen had managed to light. Elara watched the crystal on her palm; it was no longer glowing brightly, but it hummed with a low, rhythmic vibration.
"My grandfather never told me I could do that," Elara whispered, staring at her hands. "He said it was just a stone of memory."
"Your grandfather was protecting you," Kaelen replied, his voice strained as he bandaged his wound. "The Great Crystal isn't just a memory. It's a key. You are a descendant of the Star-Kings, the only ones who can channel this power without being consumed by it."
A cold wind swept through the trees, carrying a faint, metallic scent. Kaelen froze, reaching for his blade. "The Council's Hounds," he breathed. "They don't use magic to track. They use blood."