Night in the Academy felt wrong.The usual hum of voices, clatter of footsteps, and distant practice spells was gone, replaced by an uneasy stillness. Every few corridors, wardens in polished armor patrolled with glowing staves, their eyes scanning for any sign of trouble — or for him.
Thalen sat at his desk in the dim light of a single rune lamp. He'd tried to sleep, but the voice wouldn't stop.
You've felt it calling before. You simply didn't understand it. The door is waiting.
And what exactly is behind it? Thalen asked silently.
A truth they'll never give you willingly.
He thought of Kael's smirk, the Headmaster's sharp tone, the shard pulsing in its case. Everyone seemed to know more than they were telling him — and every time he got close to an answer, they shut him down.
He glanced toward the window. Clouds rolled across the moon, plunging the courtyard into darkness. If he was going to move, it had to be now.
He shrugged on his cloak, slid his spear into its back harness, and cracked the door open. The hallway outside was empty. He padded down the stairs, avoiding the torchlit main corridors and sticking to the shadowy servant passages Finn had shown him weeks ago.
Twice he had to freeze in alcoves as wardens passed by. Both times, the voice in his head was impatient.
You move like prey.
And yet I'm not caught, Thalen thought grimly.
When he finally reached the western side of the Academy, the air grew cooler, the magic in the walls thicker — like standing next to a waterfall you couldn't see. The further he went, the fewer lights there were. Dust coated the floor, disturbed only by his own footprints.
The sealed door wasn't hard to find.
It towered at the end of a forgotten hall, carved from black stone veined with silver, covered in runes that shifted when he tried to focus on them. The sigils on the arch above it glowed faintly, pulsing like a slow heartbeat.
He stopped a few paces away. His own heartbeat matched its rhythm.
Closer, the voice urged.
The moment he stepped into the runes' light, the air thickened, pressing against his skin. His fingertips tingled, and the symbols on the door seemed to brighten in response.
Without meaning to, he reached for it.
The instant his hand touched the stone, the world dropped away.
He stood in a vast, dark expanse under a sky filled with shifting constellations he didn't recognize. The air was alive, humming, as if the stars themselves were whispering.
At the center of it all was a figure — tall, cloaked in silver shadow, face hidden beneath a hood.
"You came," it said. The voice was the same one that had been in his head for weeks, but now it wasn't inside his mind — it was standing in front of him.
Thalen's mouth went dry. "Who are you?"
"I am what remains of the Firstborn. A fragment, bound to you the day you were born. I have been waiting for you to listen."
"Why me?"
The figure tilted its head. "Because you are the last. The others are gone — hunted, erased. You carry what they could not protect."
The stars above them shifted, forming the outline of a door — the same door he'd just touched. "This is the threshold to the Vault. Beyond it lies the power to end the Shadowkin… or to free them forever."
Thalen's skin prickled. "And you expect me to just open it?"
"I expect you to survive long enough to choose. But beware — the moment this door opens, every faction will know. The Shadowkin will come. The dragons will come. Even those you think are your allies will turn on you."
A deep rumble shook the starfield. The figure's head snapped toward the sound. "You've been found. We must end this—"
The vision shattered.
Thalen staggered back into the hallway, gasping. The runes on the door were blazing now, throwing wild shadows on the walls. From down the corridor came the heavy thud of boots.
"Stop right there!"
Wardens rounded the corner, staves raised, light magic flaring.
For one frozen second, Thalen considered surrendering. Then the voice roared in his head:
Run.
He turned and sprinted. Bolts of binding light hissed past him, cracking against the walls. He ducked into a side passage, vaulted over a broken bench, and crashed through a half-rotted door into the maintenance tunnels.
The wardens followed, their shouts echoing behind him. Somewhere above, an alarm bell began to toll.
He didn't stop running until the tunnel spat him out into the East Wing — right outside his own dorm room. He shoved the door shut behind him, pressing his back against it, heart hammering.
The voice was calmer now, almost pleased.
Now you know where to find me. Next time, we open it.
Thalen sank to the floor, staring at his hands — and the faint silver glow that still clung to his skin.