Chapter 8: The Gathering Storm
As dawn approached, the air grew thick with tension. Lirien and Varian had retreated to an abandoned village deep in the forest, far from the prying eyes of the city. Yet, despite the isolation, the sense of impending danger never left.
Varian paced, his mind clearly preoccupied. "If we're to survive this, we need allies. The Veil of Ash has too many followers, and the Silent Tribunal…" He grimaced. "They are not easily swayed."
Lirien sat by the fire, trying to gather her thoughts. The Silver Mask's words echoed in her mind: You were born for this.
She hated the idea, but deep down, she knew he was right. Her blood was the key. And the Bound One would not be denied.
The crackle of the fire seemed distant as her thoughts turned inward. She could still feel the weight of the dagger in her hand—the one used to betray the Tribunal. Had she made the right choice? She had broken the Oath, but the truth had demanded it. The Tribunal's judgment was coming. And she couldn't let them win.
"Varian," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her. "We need to find the Elder Runes. They're the key to unlocking the power of the Bound One. If we can control it, we can stop the Veil of Ash from using it."
Varian's gaze snapped to her. "The Elder Runes? They haven't been seen in centuries."
"I know," Lirien replied. "But if we don't find them, the world will fall into darkness. The Veil of Ash will bring the Bound One back, and nothing will be able to stop it."
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears.
"Varian," Lirien whispered urgently, "we have to go. Now."
He nodded sharply, drawing his sword. The quiet village had become a trap, and they had walked right into it.