The Silverwood was unlike any place Alden had ever seen. The deeper they traveled, the more the trees changed—ancient and towering, their silver-tinged leaves shifting in an unseen breeze. The air was thick with something more than just mist; it was magic. He could feel it brushing against his skin, whispering through his veins like a presence just beyond reach.
The stranger moved with quiet certainty, their silver eyes scanning the darkened paths ahead. Alden followed, gripping the Book of Shadows tightly. The energy from his earlier outburst still hummed beneath his skin, but he didn't understand it. It had been instinct, a reaction rather than control.
"Where exactly are we going?" he asked, breaking the silence.
The stranger didn't turn but spoke as they walked. "To the heart of the Silverwood. To the Sanctuary."
Alden frowned. "The Sanctuary?"
"A place where magic is old and untamed," the stranger explained. "Where those who do not belong in the waking world find refuge. And where the heir of the Arcane Throne can learn the truth."
Alden exhaled, shaking his head. "You keep calling me that—the heir. But I don't know what that means."
The stranger finally stopped, turning to face him. "Then let me ask you this—why do you think the Mark chose you?"
Alden hesitated. "I… I don't know."
"Think," the stranger urged. "Before today, did you ever feel like you were different? That something inside you didn't belong in the life you were given?"
Alden's throat tightened.
Yes.
Always.
He had spent his childhood trying to fit into Eldoria's quiet, peaceful life. He had worked in the fields, studied under the town's elders, done everything expected of him. But there had always been something wrong. An ache in his chest, an emptiness that no one else seemed to feel.
And now… now he knew why.
His hands clenched into fists. "I don't know what's happening to me," he admitted. "I don't understand this magic, this Mark. I don't even know who you are."
The stranger's silver eyes studied him for a long moment. Then, quietly, they said,
"My name is Caelum."
Alden blinked. It was the first solid thing they had given him. A name.
"And what are you, Caelum?" he asked. "You're not with the Order of the Hollow, but you knew about them. You knew about me."
Caelum inclined their head. "I am a Watcher. One of the few who still remember the truth of what was lost."
Alden exhaled. More riddles. But at least now, he had something to call them.
Caelum turned back toward the trees. "Come. We're close."
Alden followed, questions still burning in his mind.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air became, charged with an unseen force. The ground beneath them softened, no longer rough earth but something else—something almost… alive.
And then, without warning, the forest opened.
They stepped into a clearing unlike anything Alden had ever seen. The trees bent inward, their silver leaves glowing faintly, forming a natural barrier. In the center of the space, water pooled in a perfect circle, its surface unnaturally still. But it wasn't water—at least, not entirely. It shimmered like liquid glass, swirling with colors that shifted and changed.
"The Mirrorlake," Caelum murmured. "The entrance to the Sanctuary."
Alden swallowed. "We're going through that?"
Caelum nodded. "It is a threshold. A gate between the world as you know it and the world that was forgotten."
Alden took a step forward, staring into the lake. His reflection rippled strangely, not just as a mirror would—but as if it were something else entirely, something waiting for him.
Then, without hesitation, Caelum stepped onto the water.
Alden's breath caught. They didn't sink. They walked across it as if it were solid ground. The surface barely reacted, only faint ripples spreading beneath their feet.
Caelum turned, holding out a hand. "Come, Alden."
Everything in his body screamed at him to hesitate. This wasn't normal. This wasn't possible.
But neither was the Mark on his palm. Neither was the Book of Shadows. Neither was the power that had erupted from him without warning.
He had already stepped into the unknown.
Alden clenched his jaw, took a breath—
And stepped forward.
The moment his foot touched the water, a surge of cold shot through him. But he did not sink. The surface held him, firm but fluid beneath his weight. The world around him shifted. The trees blurred, the air hummed, and suddenly—
The Mirrorlake swallowed him whole.
Darkness consumed everything.
Then, just as suddenly—
Light.
Alden gasped as the world around him reformed. But it was not the Silverwood.
They stood in a vast open space, unlike anything he had ever seen. The sky above them was endless, painted in deep purples and silvers, swirling like the water they had just passed through. Floating islands drifted in the distance, each one carrying structures that pulsed with soft light. The air smelled of something ancient—like ink on parchment, fire on stone.
At the center of it all, a grand tower stood, carved from dark obsidian, its spires reaching toward the heavens.
A city hidden from time.
Caelum exhaled softly. "Welcome, Alden."
Alden stared in awe.
"Welcome to the Sanctuary."