The cottage was silent except for the soft tick of the wall clock and the faint drip of a lantern's oil. Outside, the wind stirred the tops of the pines, but inside, everything was still—too still.
I lay awake, listening to the hush that pressed against my eardrums. It was later than usual—well past the hour when Nan would have told me to sleep. But sleep had slipped away long ago. My mind replayed her words: "It's not too late."
A sudden breath of air brushed my cheek, carrying a voice so faint it might have been my imagination.
"Solana…"
My pulse quickened. I rose on trembling knees, careful not to wake the cottage's single lantern. The scent of dried lavender and something else—sharp, metallic—hung in the stillness.
I padded down the corridor, each floorboard sighing under my weight. When I reached Nan's door, it stood ajar. A thin shaft of lamplight cut across the hall.
"Nan?" I called softly.
Inside, she sat on the edge of her cot, eyes closed, fingers tracing patterns in the air. The faint glow of her Shadow Sight shimmered around her palms in pale blue runes.
"They're close," she whispered without opening her eyes.
My breath caught. "Who?"
She looked at me then, and I saw the worry etched into every line of her face. "The Duskborne."
The name tasted like ash. I pressed my hand over my heart. "But… why now?"
She shook her head. "I don't know how they found us. But they have. And they're not coming for answers—they're coming for you."
A low moan of wind rattled the windowpanes. Outside, the trees bowed as if something massive moved through the forest.
"They sense your power," Nan said, rising and gathering her shawl. "And soon, they'll be at our doorstep."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Two days ago, I had been safe here. Now, every shadow in the room felt alive.
Nan took my hand. "We must be ready. At first light, the Seekers will come."
I nodded, though sleep had abandoned me. The clock's hands crept forward. I didn't know if the dawn would bring salvation—or deeper darkness.
But the wind had warned me once. And I would not ignore it again.
____
A soft, urgent knock on the door stirred me from half‑sleep. Nan and I exchanged a tense glance in the lantern's glow this was no ordinary visitor.
She rose without a sound, gathering our few belongings. My satchel felt impossibly heavy against my side as she opened the door just wide enough to slip through.
Outside stood two figures framed by the misty morning. Their coats bore the seal of Academia Magnivar—a lantern entwined with ancient runes. The air around them shimmered, folding outward in a curtain of pale light.
"Professor Wales," the taller one said, voice calm but carrying quiet authority. "And Solana Wales, we've come to escort you both to the academy."
Nan stepped aside, accepting the title she hadn't used in years. "Thank you," she whispered.
We moved forward together. The second Seeker lifted a hand and the barrier behind us rippled closed no lock, no spoken command, just the effortless bending of magic born in their veins.
Dew‑wet grass brushed my ankles as we followed them across the courtyard. Lanterns floated overhead, illuminating columns of moon‑stone and arches of stained glass still dark against the coming dawn. Somewhere far off, a bell tolled once, low and resonant.
Ahead, between two ancient oaks, mist curled into a narrow rift of light. The silver‑eyed Seeker nodded. "This way."
My heart pounded as I stepped through. The world shifted and forest shadows giving way to marble halls painted in rising sunlight. Behind us, the portal sighed shut, leaving only the hush of early morning and the soft murmur of students stirring to life.
Nan brushed a strand of hair from my face. "Safety must come first," she said.
And in that quiet moment, under a sky turning from indigo to rose, I knew nothing would ever be the same.