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Chapter 4 - When Magic Found Me

Chapter Four: The Watcher's Oath

The first thing Elena felt was warmth.

It seeped into her like sunlight through closed blinds, coaxing her from the heaviness of unconsciousness. Slowly, awareness returned—the faint shimmer of the Veil's sky above her, the strange hum of magic in the air, and the steady weight of something beneath her head.

She blinked, and realized she was resting against Kael's shoulder.

Her breath caught. His arm was around her, firm but careful, anchoring her as though even in sleep she might drift away. Shadows curled faintly at his fingertips, restless even in stillness.

Kael's gaze was fixed outward, scanning the horizon, sharp and unrelenting. But his jaw was tight, his face drawn in a way that spoke not of battle, but of waiting. Of guarding.

Elena stirred, shifting slightly. His eyes flicked down to her instantly, tension softening just enough to show relief.

"You're awake." His voice was low, rough around the edges.

She pushed herself upright, embarrassed by the sudden loss of warmth when his arm fell away. "How long…?"

"Hours," he said simply.

Her body ached as if she'd run for miles. The memory of the wraiths and the blinding light that tore from her skin returned in flashes—shards of glasslike figures, the unbearable heat, the way the Veil itself seemed to shake.

Elena hugged her knees. "That wasn't me. I didn't mean to—"

"It was you." Kael's gaze was unwavering. "The mark answers your will. Even when you don't understand it yet."

Her stomach twisted. "So I'm dangerous."

"You're powerful," he corrected, but there was no triumph in his tone. Only warning. "Power draws enemies. You saw that yourself."

She buried her face in her hands. "I never asked for this."

Kael was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice carried something softer, something she hadn't expected. "No one ever does."

The words hung between them, weighted with unspoken history. Elena peeked at him through her fingers. His eyes were distant, as though he were staring at ghosts she couldn't see.

"Kael," she said quietly. "What is this mark, really? Why me?"

His jaw tightened. Shadows rippled faintly along his arm. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.

Then, slowly: "The mark binds you to magic itself. Old magic. Older than kingdoms, older than me." His eyes flicked to hers, unreadable. "It doesn't choose at random. It chooses those who can bear it."

Her throat constricted. "But I can't. You saw me—I nearly tore myself apart."

"You're still alive." His gaze was steady, unyielding. "That's more than most."

Before she could respond, a ripple shivered through the air. The glasslike ground beneath them vibrated, light running through the veins of the Veil like cracks spreading in ice.

Kael was on his feet instantly, blade in hand, shadows curling thick around him. "Someone's here."

Elena scrambled up, heart pounding. "Wraiths again?"

"No." His eyes narrowed, fixed on the shifting horizon. "Something else."

From the distance, a figure emerged.

Not drifting like the wraiths, not crawling like the hunters, but walking—steady, deliberate, cloaked in robes that shimmered with the same shifting hues as the Veil itself. The figure's face was hidden beneath a hood, but its presence was undeniable, heavy as stone.

Elena instinctively moved closer to Kael, but the figure raised a hand in peace. Its voice, when it spoke, was like wind across water—calm, ancient, neither man nor woman.

"You bring the Marked into the Veil, Shadowborn?"

Kael's grip on his blade tightened. "Watcher."

Elena glanced between them, her pulse quickening. "You know them?"

Kael didn't answer her. His posture was rigid, wary. "Why are you here?"

The Watcher tilted its head slightly, the hood shifting to reveal a glimpse of eyes glowing faintly silver. "Because the Veil trembled. Because the mark has awakened. Such things cannot be ignored."

Elena's skin prickled. "You know about this mark?"

The Watcher's gaze turned to her, piercing, as if seeing straight through her flesh into the core of her being. "I know of it. I know the price it carries."

Her breath caught. "Price?"

Kael stepped subtly in front of her, his shadowy aura coiling defensively. "Enough."

But the Watcher ignored him. Its voice wove like a thread of inevitability. "The mark is no gift, child. It is a summons. With every pulse, every flare of light, it calls across the Veil. And what answers that call…" The hooded head inclined slightly. "Will not be merciful."

Elena's chest constricted, the air too thin. "Summons…? You mean those creatures—the hunters, the wraiths—they come because of me?"

Kael's silence was sharper than any denial.

Her eyes stung. "You knew." She shoved at his shoulder, though he barely moved. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

Kael's jaw clenched, but his gaze never wavered. "Telling you wouldn't change it."

"It would've given me a choice!" Her voice cracked, raw. "Instead you drag me into this world, let me think I'm just cursed or special, when really I'm—" She broke off, shaking. "I'm bait."

The word hung heavy, terrible, true.

Kael flinched—not visibly, not in any way most would notice, but enough that Elena felt it.

The Watcher's silver eyes gleamed faintly. "The Shadowborn speaks half-truths, as ever. But he is not wrong in this—choice or no, the mark cannot be silenced. It will burn until the end, and all will come to answer it."

Elena's hands trembled. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

The Watcher studied her for a long, unbearable moment. Then, softly: "Endure. Or be consumed."

The words struck like a sentence passed.

Before Elena could speak again, the Watcher raised its hand, tracing a glowing sigil in the air. It pulsed once, then faded.

"My oath is only to witness, never to interfere. But know this, Marked one—you are not the first, nor will you be the last. Your path is written, though how you walk it is your own."

With that, the Watcher stepped back into the shifting horizon. Its form blurred, dissolved, and vanished as if it had never been.

Elena's knees nearly buckled. She gripped her arms, trying to hold herself together. "I can't do this. I can't—"

Kael caught her wrist, steadying her. His voice was firm, rough with restraint. "You can. You will."

Her gaze snapped to his, wet with anger and fear. "Why do you care? Why are you even here?"

For a heartbeat, silence. Then Kael's grip loosened, his voice dropping so low she almost didn't hear it.

"Because once, someone carried a mark like yours. And I failed them."

The confession cracked something in him, a glimpse of pain buried deep.

Elena's chest tightened. The anger didn't vanish, but it faltered, tangled with something else—something fragile, dangerous.

Kael released her slowly, stepping back, shadows curling around him like armor. His walls were rising again, brick by brick.

"Rest while you can," he said, voice hardening. "The Veil won't shelter us for long."

But even as he turned away, Elena couldn't shake the tremor in his words, the shadow of loss that lingered in his eyes.

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