The sky was still gray with ash when the Ashveil strike force descended.
Their leader—a tall man clad in rune-sewn emerald robes, helm marked with an old Embrathan war sigil—stepped toward the cohort with his soldiers fanned out behind him. Their presence was imposing: enchantments shimmered across plated armor, spellcrafters hovered on disc-shaped platforms, and scouts with glowing lenses scanned every surface of the ruined clearing.
"Who are you," he asked sharply, "and what are you doing here?"
Caelum took a breath and stepped forward. His mana was still faint, his body aching, but his voice didn't waver. "I am Caelum Veyne. These are my comrades from the Arcadium. We were sent to investigate the disturbances near Fennvale."
The commander narrowed his eyes. "Disturbances? What we found was the aftermath of a high-tier Infernal detonation. A fire spell strong enough to vaporize living matter, and a shattered leyfield. What exactly happened here?"
Caelum clenched his fists. "A demon attacked us. It took my brother."
The officers behind the commander shifted uncomfortably. One, a gray-haired Nullseer, scoffed. "And you expect us to believe that you, a student, cast the Infernal spell that left this crater?"
"It was me," Caelum said. "I had no choice."
The commander looked unconvinced. "Do you have any idea what that level of magic implies? That kind of power is reserved for archmagi or relic-bound castings. You're what—seventeen?"
"I don't care what you think I should be capable of," Caelum snapped. "I cast it. And it still wasn't enough."
Silence followed. Then the commander said, "You and your group are to return with us to the Arcadium. The capital will want answers. Your behavior will be evaluated, and your claims tested."
"No," Caelum said firmly. "I'm not leaving. Not until I find my brother."
The commander took a step forward. "You would defy a direct order from the sovereign coalition?"
"I would defy any force that tells me to abandon my family."
Another pause. Caelum inhaled deeply. "I think… I think I'm connected to what the creature was seeking. It said I smelled of Might. That I burned with it."
Whispers rippled through the Ashveil ranks.
"That's impossible," the Nullseer muttered.
"Or the beginning," said another mage, younger and more curious.
The commander watched Caelum closely. At last, he exhaled. "Very well. You may accompany the task force. But you are under our watch. One misstep—and you'll be sent back in chains."
"Understood," Caelum said.
---
Darian stirred.
His wrists ached with magical bindings. The runes glowed faintly violet, pulsing with every heartbeat. He lay on the cracked stone floor of an abandoned warehouse, somewhere far from help.
The creature stood in the shadows, watching. It had grown leaner. Taller. More human in shape. Its charred arm had reformed partially—still grotesque, but functional.
"You can speak clearly," Darian said, staring up at it. "Why?"
The creature tilted its head. "Because I listened. Because I learned. We were not all beasts."
Darian frowned. "Then what were you?"
The creature walked forward. "We were rulers. Gods in flesh. You called us demons—but once, you feared our names. Before the One came."
"The One?"
"The warrior. The Sealer. The one who brought both Might and Magic. He ended the dominion. He gave you your kingdoms."
Darian's jaw clenched. "Then why return?"
The creature knelt. "Because it is not over. He warned that Might would rise again—and it has."
"You think Caelum is the Bearer?"
"I know he is."
Darian said nothing. The creature turned away.
"He will come. And I will see what his fire is truly worth."
---
Back at the edge of the battlefield, the Ashveil strike force made ready to march. Scouts rode ahead. Enchanters scanned the trail of corrupted mana leading toward the southeast—the creature's path.
Caelum stood beside Teyla, Bryn, Eilo, and Rowan.
"I can feel him," he said quietly. "He's still out there."
Rowan nodded. "Then we find him."
High above, storm clouds gathered unnaturally. Magic pulsed in the wind.
---
Far away, in a hidden chamber of crystal and flame, Queen Maerion stood with King Orvain and two other sovereigns of allied nations.
"The signs are clear," Orvain said. "The anomaly is no longer a theory. It's acting."
"Then we bring in the others?" said a third ruler, a tall woman draped in obsidian silks.
Maerion frowned. "Not yet. If we declare a demon return too early, we'll spark panic. Let Ashveil pursue this. We observe."
"And if observation fails?"
Maerion's eyes flickered. "Then we prepare for war."