Dalia's POV
The first thing I registered was the biting cold seeping through my skin. My eyelids fluttered open to reveal ancient stone pillars bathed in pale moonlight. The Eldermere ruins stretched around me like skeletal fingers reaching toward the star-studded sky.
Something was terribly wrong.
I tried to move but found myself stretched across a ceremonial altar, the rough stone scraping against my back. My head throbbed as consciousness returned in waves. This wasn't a nightmare. The metallic taste of fear coated my tongue as I realized the gravity of my situation.
Ancient magic pulsed through the air like a living thing, making my skin crawl with its malevolent energy. Every breath felt thick and oppressive, as if the very atmosphere was trying to suffocate me.
A deep voice cut through the silence, chanting in a language that predated human civilization. My blood turned to ice as I recognized the speaker.
Gracie.
