The wind that howled through Elowen's Hollow carried with it more than winter's chill it carried memories. Forgotten magic lingered in the roots of trees older than empires, and whispers echoed through the fog like ghostly sentinels. Kael's boots crunched softly on the frosted path, and he tightened his cloak against the cold.
Beside him walked Nyra, silent as always, her eyes ever alert. Behind them came Queen Lysara and Captain Thorne, leading what remained of her exiled people. Their breath misted the air as they climbed toward the cliffside where the old mage was said to dwell.
The cave was hidden behind a waterfall, concealed by illusion. Only Nyra knew the signs. She stepped forward and traced a sigil into the stone, and the cascading water parted like a curtain.
They entered, torches flickering against walls carved with runes. The warmth inside was strange unnatural and Kael felt his shard pulse faintly as if in recognition.
He wasn't the only one who noticed.
"You carry it openly," came a voice from the shadows. It was not a question.
From the far end of the cavern stepped a man robed in deep blue, his white beard nearly reaching his belt, his eyes shining like twin moons. Vaelin, last of the Circle of Nine.
Kael stood straighter. "You're the mage?"
"I was," Vaelin said. "Now I am merely what is left." He turned to Lysara and bowed with reverence. "My queen."
"We need answers," she said. "You know what Malagar has done. What he's still doing."
Vaelin nodded grimly. "I do. And I know the shards he seeks are more than just fragments of power. Each contains a sliver of the Crown's will its memory, its essence. Reunited, they would restore balance to the world. But separate... they drive men mad with ambition."
Kael stepped forward. "And me? What happens if I keep using it?"
Vaelin approached slowly, raising a hand. "May I?"
Kael nodded. The old mage touched the shard hanging at Kael's neck, and light burst outward in a rush of symbols, glowing in the air around them.
"A fire sleeps within you," Vaelin said softly. "Not born of this world, but of another. The shard chose you because it remembers who you were before."
Kael recoiled. "Before? I don't understand."
"You will. But beware there are others hunting the shards. Not just Malagar. A shadow moves across Eldoria, older than him, darker than the void. It has waited long for the crown to fall."
Lysara's brow furrowed. "What do we do?"
Vaelin's gaze settled on Kael. "You gather the shards. But not for power. For memory. For truth. The crown must not be reforged with greed, or it will be worse than shattered."
Thunder rolled outside, distant but ominous.
"You must leave before nightfall," Vaelin said. "I will give you what I can. Wards, knowledge. But the Hollow is no longer safe."
"What comes?" Kael asked.
The old mage's eyes darkened. "Something that does not knock."
And before the torches could flicker again, a shriek tore through the stone walls.
Something had found them.