The air in Valen’s Reach was unusually still that morning. No winds rustled the trees, and no birds sang their dawn chorus. It was as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Naolin, though, had little time to dwell on the stillness. His mind was racing, replaying the High Priestess’s words from the night before.

The Spirit Queen does not return without cause.

He hadn’t slept much. The scroll Maelis had given him lay open on his small desk, its brittle pages scrawled with the ancient language of the old rites. He had only been able to decipher parts of it—a passage about the Spirit Queen’s bond with the elemental planes, another about the first signs of her influence: rivers flowing backward, unnatural silences in the forests, storms that formed out of clear skies.

Signs that had been occurring for weeks now, all across Alorindor.

Now, as he sat in the temple courtyard, waiting for the arrival of the northern scholar, Naolin couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into something far larger than himself. He was just an apprentice—a healer, not some great scholar or adventurer. What did the council see in him?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hooves clattering against the cobbled streets. A small group of riders appeared at the temple gates, led by a figure in a long, dark traveling cloak. The scholar had arrived.

The riders dismounted, and the lead figure approached, pushing back the hood of their cloak. Naolin blinked in surprise. The scholar wasn’t what he had expected. She was a young woman, her sharp, piercing eyes taking in the surroundings with a critical gaze. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she carried an air of authority that belied her age.

“High Priestess Maelis?” she asked, her voice firm but polite.

“Inside, waiting for you,” Naolin replied, standing awkwardly and brushing the dust off his robes. “I’m Naolin, her apprentice. I’ll be accompanying you.”

She studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Naolin, is it? I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Neither was I,” Naolin muttered under his breath. Then louder, “The council thought it best. I know the old rites, so… I’m here to help.” He felt foolish saying it, but it was all he had.

The scholar gave a small nod of acknowledgment, though Naolin couldn’t tell if she was pleased or disappointed. “I’m Kaedria,” she said simply, before turning and heading into the temple without another word.

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Naolin hurried after her, wondering if this was what the rest of their journey was going to be like—him fumbling for words while Kaedria coolly navigated everything with precision. The contrast between them couldn’t have been sharper, but at least she seemed capable. He only hoped he wouldn’t slow her down.

Inside the temple, High Priestess Maelis was waiting at the altar, the dim light of the braziers casting long shadows on the walls. She turned as they entered, her eyes flickering over Kaedria with a knowing look, before resting on Naolin.

“You’ve arrived sooner than expected,” Maelis said, bowing her head slightly in greeting. “The council speaks highly of you, Kaedria.”

“I made good time,” Kaedria replied curtly. “Though the reports coming out of the western reaches are troubling. Elemental uprisings everywhere. What are the conditions here?”

Maelis nodded gravely. “Much the same. Fires sparking without warning in the forests, rivers overflowing their banks, and an unsettling silence that lingers over the hills. The signs are growing more frequent.”

Naolin shifted uncomfortably. It felt like they were talking about distant problems, not the reality he had seen firsthand. Valen’s Reach had been on edge for weeks now, with villagers fleeing their homes, crops withering, and healers overwhelmed by strange ailments.

Kaedria’s gaze swept over him, as if sensing his discomfort. “And you, Naolin? Have you seen any of these signs?”

Naolin hesitated, then nodded. “There have been… disturbances. I’ve felt it in the temple, mostly. Whispers on the wind, strange chills in the air. Last night, I thought I heard—” He stopped, unsure how to continue.

Kaedria’s eyes narrowed again. “You heard something?”

“A voice,” Naolin admitted quietly. “It said… ‘Balance. Return.’ I thought it was my imagination at first, but… it didn’t feel like that.”

Maelis and Kaedria exchanged a glance, and Naolin could feel the weight of their concern pressing down on him.

“That confirms it,” Maelis said softly, more to herself than to them. “The Spirit Queen is stirring.”

Kaedria’s expression darkened. “Stirring is not the same as returning. We can’t rely on rumors and half-glimpses. We need proof, and until we have it, we should prepare for the worst.”

Naolin swallowed hard. The worst? What could be worse than the elemental rebellion tearing through Alorindor?

“The elementals are in open revolt,” Kaedria continued, her voice cold and clinical. “If the Spirit Queen has truly returned, we need to find her. If not, we need to understand why the elements have turned against us. Either way, we need to leave by tomorrow.”

Maelis nodded in agreement. “Naolin, you’ll accompany Kaedria and do whatever is necessary to assist her. This rebellion must be stopped, and the Spirit Queen’s role in it—whatever it may be—must be uncovered.”

Naolin felt a lump form in his throat. He hadn’t asked for this. He wasn’t ready for this. But as he looked at Kaedria, with her sharp gaze and unshakable confidence, he realized he had no choice. He was already in too deep.

“Right,” he said quietly. “I understand.”

But deep down, Naolin wasn’t sure he understood anything at all.