The Tower of Umbra Concord stood like a forgotten god's blade, jutting from the earth at the edge of nowhere shimmering with faint glyphs only visible to those born of the Veil. Encased in storm-grey stone and wrapped in silence, it held the eight halls of the supernatural world's last bastion of order.
Tonight, its silence was broken.
Kaela Veyne's boots clicked across the obsidian floors of the meeting chamber. Her dark coat fluttered behind her like a shadow untethered from form, laced with charmed thread to ward off minor enchantments. She hated being summoned before her morning coffee or in this case, summoned on a moonless night.
"This better be good," she muttered, glancing at the moon dial overhead. It glowed red. Emergency session.
The Council of Eight sat around a circular obsidian table, each seat marked with a sigil older than recorded time. The Warden's sigil burned brightest an hourglass within a sunburst. He sat at the head, cloaked in black and gold. Lucien Draeven, the one they all feared and obeyed.
And the one she kissed breathless just three nights ago.
"Kaela," Lucien said with a single nod, eyes betraying nothing. Just as they agreed. She took her seat a crescent moon within a mirrored eye.
"You're all here, good," said a melodic voice from the far end. The Oracle. Eylira Sannveil's glowing gaze swept the table. Her normally serene expression was grim.
"This is no routine breach. The Weave of Fate has cracked."
The room shifted. Even Brannic leaned forward, arms folding.
"Clarify, Oracle," Lucien said, voice cutting through the tension like a sword through fog.
Eylira's fingers brushed over her seat's crystal orb. "Three nights ago, I was swept into a Trance beyond my control. I saw the shattering of seals long forgotten. The essence of the Calamity awakens. The thing we sealed long before written memory. The world will change."
Kaela's brows rose. Drama was typical of Eylira, but she never lied.
"And what kind of 'change' are we talking about?" Nyrix asked, fingers laced under her chin, crimson eyes glowing.
"The end of supernaturality," Eylira said. "The Source will erode. Within five years, every supernatural will become... human. Powerless. Mortal. And the Calamity will return as it was unsealed, unchallenged."
A silence took hold of the chamber, broken only by the soft humming of magical seals in the walls.
Lucien stood slowly. "The seal was placed by the First Concord. It cannot be broken."
"It has been," Eylira replied. "The Age of Supernatural is ending. The Weave didn't named the entity,only that it is.... Hollowborn. It seeks balance through extinction."
Kaela's hand curled into a fist. She'd read the term once, buried in the forbidden archives. A creature of nullification. Not destruction obliteration. Magic turned to ash in its presence.
"And I suppose the Weave gave us some good news too?" Brannic rumbled.
Eylira nodded. "Yes. The Lifebinder still lives. Aelira of the Verdant Breath. The Weave has named her the first path to survival. She alone carries the knowledge to awaken the lost stages. Without her, we are doomed."
Torik grunted. "She vanished centuries ago. Even my kind calls her a myth."
"She is real," Eylira said sharply. "And she hides because she fears the creature. She faced it once. And she survived."
Kaela looked around. They were powerful, yes. But this? This was beyond the council. And worse… they'd have to do it without magic.
"How do we find her?" she asked.
"The Weave gave a fragment of a path," Eylira answered. "A stone of blood, a gate of memories, and a mirror that doesn't reflect."
Kaela clicked her tongue. "Cryptic much?"
"That's fate," Eylira replied.
Lucien stepped forward. "Then it's decided. We begin the search. This first mission will be carried out by a selected taskforce."
Kaela leaned back, studying them all. She could already feel the political storm brewing. Some factions would rebel. Some would seek to hoard power. Some would see this as a chance to start a war.
But first she had to survive this task. And maybe, along the way, prove that shadows could shine brighter than light.
Lucien's gaze met hers. Just for a second.
"Prepare yourselves," he said. "The Age of Echoes has begun."