The storm has not been forecasted yet, not by human means.
Rain lashed the cobbled streets of Veyruhn like a warning. Thunder rolled over the hills in guttural waves, shaking the old bones of the town. The cathedral loomed beneath the flashes of lightning, its stone walls gleaming wet and ancient, as if it had risen from the grave instead of standing for centuries.
Elian jolted awake at the sound of glass cracking. The window above her bed was frosted with condensation, but something in the air had changed something deep and primal. Her skin felt electric, as though someone had whispered her name against her spine.
She stumbled from bed, still in her T-shirt and sweatpants, and walked to the window barefooted.
The cathedral glowed faintly in the storm.
Not with light. But with presence.
Her breath fogged the glass. She didn't know why she moved, why she grabbed her coat and boots and slipped out the inn's back door.
The streets were slick and deserted, the lamps dimming unnaturally as she passed. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath.
By the time she reached the cathedral, lightning struck the far hill and silence swallowed everything after.
Then...
Cracks....
The earth beneath the cathedral split.
It wasn't just loud. It was deafening. A deep, groaning wound tore open at the base of the old foundation, sending dust and chunks of stone flying into the street. Rain hissed into the abyss.
And from that hollow came smoke. Black and slow, curling like fingers from a forgotten mouth.
Then a figure stepped out.
Damian
No longer just the ghost of her dreams or the sorrowful shade beneath the earth. He stood tall, shrouded in his long black coat, soaked but unbothered, eyes burning with impossible blue light that pierced the night.
Behind him was Nyra. Her golden hair glowing and eyes eminating same blue light as Damian's. The folds of her translucent cloak fluttering in unseen wind.
Elian couldn't move.
He saw her.
And then he smiled.
It was subtle, devastating, and real.
"Elian," he said softly, not shouting. And the name slide over the storm like silk. "You called me."
"I didn't mean to," she whispered.
"But you did."
Nyra hovered just behind him, her voice like wet ash. "And now the bond is awakened… fully."
Elian stepped back. "What does that mean?"
Damian tilted his head, studying her with an ancient softness. "It means you've broken the seal. And now, the Guardians will come."
Lightning struck again, and this time Elian saw shadows moving behind rooftops watching and waiting.
"The Order?" she breathed.
"Yes," Nyra said. "They'll try to put him back in the ground. And if they can't… they'll kill you instead."
The ground beneath Damian sealed shut again, smooth and whole as if nothing had ever broken through.
But something had.
And it never would again...