Dawn broke through the forest canopy in fragmented rays, painting dappled patterns across Adrian's face. He awakened with a start, the remnants of his dream still vivid—five pillars of light against encroaching darkness, the blue one pulsing with newfound strength. For a moment, disorientation gripped him as his mind struggled to separate dream from reality.

"You spoke in your sleep," Elarala said. She sat cross-legged nearby, her blind eyes somehow knowing exactly where he was. "You mentioned a name. Elenna."

Adrian frowned, the name simultaneously foreign and familiar. "I don't know anyone called Elenna."

"Not in this life, perhaps," Elarala said cryptically. She rose in a fluid motion that belied her apparent age. "We should move. Carl has already scouted ahead."

As if summoned by his name, Carl emerged from the morning mist that clung to the forest floor. "Path looks clear for now. I found a small stream about half a mile ahead—fresh water and a good place to refill our skins."

They broke camp efficiently, leaving minimal trace of their presence. Adrian's military training merged seamlessly with Carl's wilderness expertise, while Elarala seemed to anticipate their needs before they voiced them. Within minutes, they were again on the move, heading southwest toward Rivermeet.

The forest was coming alive with morning sounds—birdsong and rustling leaves—a stark contrast to yesterday's unnatural silence. Adrian took this as a positive sign; the void's influence was not as strong here.

As they walked, a strange sensation washed over him—a disorienting wave that made the world around him briefly shimmer. Suddenly, he was no longer in the forest but standing in a circular chamber with walls of polished white stone. Before him stood a woman with flowing silver hair, her eyes a startling violet.

"The alignment is perfect," she was saying, her voice melodic yet urgent. "We must complete the binding now, Adrian, or wait another century."

As quickly as it came, the vision vanished, leaving Adrian standing rigid in the forest path, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Adrian?" Carl's concerned voice cut through his confusion. "What is it?"

"I saw..." Adrian struggled to articulate the vivid flash. "A woman with silver hair, like Elarala's but younger. She called me by name, in a stone chamber."

Elarala stopped walking, her posture alert. "Describe this woman. Exactly."

"Tall, regal bearing. Silver hair down to her waist. Violet eyes that seemed to glow from within. She wore robes of white and silver, with inscriptions along the hems that I couldn't read."

A silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken significance.

"Elenna," Elarala finally said. "You're seeing Elenna."

"Who is she?" Adrian demanded.

"She was the founder of the Silver Covenant," Carl answered, his voice hushed with reverence. "And the creator of the Evermarks."

Adrian's hand instinctively moved to his chest, where the mark pulsed with warmth as if responding to the name. "That's impossible. The Silver Covenant existed centuries ago. I was a knight in King Aldric's army barely fifty years past."

"Time flows strangely when the void is involved," Elarala said. "And the Evermark doesn't choose without reason. These memories you're experiencing—they're not common dreams or visions. They're your own memories, from before."

"Before what?"

"Before you were Adrian," she said simply.

The implications staggered him. "You're saying I lived before? That I knew this Elenna?"

"The Evermark creates connections that transcend ordinary boundaries," Elarala explained as they resumed walking. "Including, sometimes, the boundary between one life and another. The more you use the mark, the stronger these connections become."

"And the more memories return," Carl added.

Adrian processed this in silence as they continued through the forest. The idea that he had lived before, that he had known the creator of the very mark he now bore—it was beyond his comprehension. Yet the vision had felt undeniably real, more like recollection than imagination.

"These... memories," he finally said, "what do they mean? Why am I seeing them now?"

"The Evermark's energy is growing within you," Elarala replied. "Each time you tap into its power, you strengthen the connection not only to the element it represents but to its history—your history—as well. The battle with the Collector accelerated this process."

"And Elenna? What was she to me?" Adrian asked, a strange apprehension coloring his voice.

Carl and Elarala exchanged glances.

"That," Elarala said carefully, "is something you must discover for yourself. The memories will come, in time."

They reached the stream Carl had mentioned and paused to refill their waterskins. The water ran clear and cold, tumbling over smooth stones worn by centuries of patient persistence. Adrian welcomed the moment of normalcy amid the increasingly strange reality of his existence.

As he drank from cupped hands, another flash overtook him—briefer this time, but no less vivid. The same silver-haired woman—Elenna—placing her palm against his chest, exactly where the Evermark now resided. Her eyes locked with his, filled with determination and something deeper, more personal.

"Bear this mark with honor, my guardian," she said. "When darkness comes again, you will be the first light against it."

Adrian gasped as the vision faded, water dripping from his chin. The mark on his chest burned hot, as if responding to the memory of Elenna's touch.

"They're getting stronger," he managed, his voice tight.

"The closer we get to Forest Star Village, the more frequent they'll likely become," Elarala warned. "The repository there contains artifacts directly connected to the Silver Covenant and Elenna herself. Your mark will respond to their proximity."

Adrian nodded, struggling to compose himself. "I'll be ready."

Carl shouldered his pack, adjusting the weight. "Should reach the old king's road by midday. From there, it's a half-day's journey to Wayfarer's Rest—a small inn where travelers can find a hot meal, if not exactly luxury accommodations."

"Will it be safe?" Adrian asked.

"As safe as anywhere," Carl replied with a shrug. "The innkeeper, Marta, is discreet and not overly curious about her patrons. More importantly, my family has used it as a waypoint for generations."

"Your family..." Adrian began, realizing how little he actually knew about the old hunter. "You've mentioned them before, but never in detail."

Carl's weathered face creased in a rare smile. "Not much to tell that's relevant to our current predicament."

"I disagree," Elarala interjected. "Adrian should know who travels with him, especially given what lies ahead."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Carl sighed, resigned. "Fair enough. My family has served as chroniclers for the Silver Covenant since its founding. When the Covenant fell during the Great Purge, we didn't abandon our duty—we merely adapted it. For generations, we've recorded the appearances of Evermark bearers, tracking their stories, preserving knowledge that would otherwise be lost."

"You're a historian," Adrian said, surprised.

"I prefer 'witness,'" Carl corrected. "I observe, I record, I remember. When the time is right, I share what I know with those who need to know it."

"Is that why you found me? To record my story?"

"I found you because Elarala asked me to look for awakening marks," Carl said. "But yes, once I recognized what you were, my family's duty became clear."

Adrian glanced between his two companions, a new understanding forming. "You two have worked together before."

"For many years," Elarala confirmed. "Carl's family has been instrumental in preserving what remains of the Covenant's knowledge. Without them, we would know far less about the Evermarks and the void they were created to counter."

They continued their journey, following the stream for a time before turning southwest again. The forest gradually thinned, giving way to scattered copses amid rolling hills. By midday, as Carl had predicted, they reached a well-worn dirt road—the old king's highway, once the main artery of trade for the realm, now reduced to a secondary route.

"We follow this for about four miles," Carl said, scanning the road in both directions. "Then Wayfarer's Rest is just beyond that ridge."

The road offered faster travel than the forest paths, but also greater exposure. Adrian felt conspicuous in the open, his hand never straying far from his sword hilt. They maintained a brisk pace, speaking little, each lost in their own thoughts.

As they crested a small rise, Adrian was struck by another memory flash—the most powerful yet. He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees as the world around him dissolved.

He stood on a battlefield strewn with bodies, the air thick with smoke and the copper tang of blood. His armor was blackened by fire, his sword arm weary beyond measure. Across the field, a rift tore the very fabric of reality—a vertical gash of absolute darkness from which writhing shapes emerged. Before the rift stood seven figures in black robes, their faces obscured by hoods, their hands raised in gestures of summoning.

And beside Adrian stood Elenna, her silver hair matted with blood, her white robes stained crimson. "We cannot close it conventionally," she said, her voice strained. "The ritual is too far advanced. I must bind it, and for that, I need anchors. Five anchors, for the five primal elements."

"The cost is too high," Adrian heard himself say, though the voice seemed both his and not his.

"The alternative is the end of everything," Elenna replied. She placed her hand on his chest. "Will you bear this burden, my love? Will you be the first anchor?"

Before he could hear his own answer, the vision shattered, and Adrian found himself back on the road, Carl's steadying hand on his shoulder.

"My love," Adrian whispered, the words foreign yet familiar on his tongue. "She called me 'my love.'"

Elarala's expression revealed nothing, but her voice softened. "The connections between bearers and creators can be... complex."

Adrian shook his head, trying to clear the disorientation. "She was creating the marks as a desperate measure. There was a battlefield, a rift in reality, beings coming through..."

"The First Void War," Carl murmured, his historian's interest evident. "The texts speak of it, but firsthand accounts are rare and fragmentary. This is... extraordinary."

"It's a memory," Adrian said, the realization settling like a weight. "My memory. I was there. I fought in that war, centuries ago."

"And now you fight in a new one," Elarala said. "The void does not surrender easily, nor do those who serve it."

They continued toward Wayfarer's Rest, Adrian wrestling with the implications of his recovered memory. If he had been Elenna's chosen guardian in a past life, if they had been more than allies—what did that mean for his current purpose? And why had he been reborn now, of all times?

The inn appeared in the distance as the afternoon waned—a sturdy two-story structure of timber and stone, smoke curling from its chimney. Several horses were tethered outside, indicating other travelers within. A weathered sign depicting a staff and pack hung above the door, swinging gently in the breeze.

"Remember, we're simple travelers," Carl cautioned as they approached. "A retired soldier escorting his blind sister and elderly father to visit relatives in Gray Ridge. Nothing remarkable, nothing worth remembering."

Adrian nodded, adjusting his cloak to better conceal his sword. Elarala pulled her hood forward, shadowing her distinctive features.

The common room of Wayfarer's Rest was warm and pleasantly aromatic with the scents of woodsmoke and roasting meat. A handful of patrons occupied the tables—two merchants deep in conversation, a family with tired children, and a solitary figure in the corner, face obscured by a deep hood.

Carl approached the bar where a broad-shouldered woman with graying hair surveyed them with careful attention. "Marta," he greeted her. "It's been some time."

Recognition softened her features. "Carl, you old rogue. Didn't expect to see you on the road again."

"Family business," Carl replied with the ease of a practiced half-truth. "My daughter and her son need escort to Gray Ridge."

Marta's eyes flicked to Elarala and Adrian, assessing. "Roads aren't what they used to be. Strange happenings lately. You'll want the back room, I expect?"

"If it's available."

"For you, it is." She retrieved a key from beneath the counter. "Meal's venison stew tonight. I'll have it sent back."

Carl thanked her, accepting the key and a subtle nod that Adrian interpreted as acknowledgment of some unspoken arrangement. They made their way through the common room toward a narrow hallway at the rear of the building.

As they passed the hooded figure in the corner, Adrian felt a sudden chill, as if someone had opened a window to a winter night. The Evermark on his chest pulsed once, sharp and cold—a warning.

The figure raised its head slightly, and though Adrian couldn't see its face clearly, he felt its gaze fix upon him with unsettling intensity.

"Fire bearer," came a whisper that seemed to bypass his ears and speak directly to his mind. "The black robes are awakening."

Adrian froze, hand instinctively moving toward his sword.

"Not here," Carl muttered, gripping Adrian's arm firmly and steering him toward the hallway.

Once inside their small but clean room, Adrian rounded on his companions. "That person knew what I am."

Elarala frowned, her unseeing eyes directed toward the door. "I sensed... something. Not void energy, but not entirely natural either."

"They called me 'fire bearer,'" Adrian pressed. "And said the black robes are awakening. What does that mean?"

"The Obsidian Circle has many names," Carl said grimly. "Black Robes. Void Servants. Night's Children. If they're 'awakening,' it suggests they're becoming more active, perhaps gathering strength for something significant."

"I need to speak with that person," Adrian decided, moving toward the door.

"Wait," Elarala commanded, her tone brooking no argument. "Let me sense the common room first."

She closed her eyes, her expression becoming distant as she extended her awareness beyond the physical. After a moment, she shook her head. "Whoever—or whatever—it was, they're gone. There's no trace of their presence, not even residual energy."

Adrian's frustration was evident. "They knew me. They might have answers."

"Or they might have been setting a trap," Carl countered. "Not every enemy announces themselves with black robes and void magic. Some use subtler methods."

"And some are allies we don't yet recognize," Elarala added thoughtfully. "This could be connected to the elemental disturbances I've been sensing. The natural world is responding to something—shifting patterns of energy, unusual concentrations of elemental power."

"Like the blue pillar in my dream," Adrian murmured. "The one that stabilized."

Elarala's head tilted slightly. "What dream?"

Adrian described his vision of the five pillars of light holding back darkness, and how the blue one had suddenly strengthened. "It felt... significant. As if I was witnessing something actually happening elsewhere."

"The Water Mark," Carl breathed, exchanging a meaningful glance with Elarala. "If another bearer has awakened to their power..."

"Then the circle begins to reform," Elarala finished. "And not a moment too soon, if the warning we received holds any truth."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Marta entered with a tray bearing three bowls of steaming stew and a loaf of dark bread.

"Thought you might prefer to eat in privacy," she said, setting the tray on a small table. Her eyes lingered on Adrian briefly before turning to Carl. "Word on the road is strange, Carl. Black burn lines appearing in fields and forests. Livestock going missing. And travelers speaking of hooded figures seen at crossroads at dusk."

"Troubling times," Carl acknowledged neutrally.

Marta lowered her voice. "Your room is secure, as always. Rest well." With that, she departed, closing the door firmly behind her.

"She knows more than she's saying," Adrian observed once he was certain she was out of earshot.

"Marta's family has provided safe haven for travelers like us for generations," Carl explained. "They don't ask questions, but they hear things, see things. If she's concerned enough to mention these signs, the situation may be deteriorating faster than we realized."

They ate in thoughtful silence, the stew hearty and warming after their long day of travel. Adrian's mind kept returning to the hooded stranger's warning and the dream of the blue pillar. Something was building, gathering momentum like a storm on the horizon.

"How much farther to Forest Star Village?" he asked finally.

"Four days at our current pace," Carl replied. "Assuming no further complications."

"And if there are complications?"

Elarala set down her spoon. "Then we adapt, as we must. The path to knowledge is rarely straight or safe, Adrian. Especially when that knowledge has been deliberately hidden or destroyed."

Adrian nodded, determination settling within him alongside the unease. Whatever awaited them at Forest Star Village—whatever answers or new questions it held—he would face it. The memories of his past life, the connection to Elenna, the mysterious warning from the stranger—all of it was drawing him forward, toward a destiny he could feel but not yet fully comprehend.

As night fell, Adrian stood at the small window of their room, watching stars appear in the darkening sky. Somewhere out there, if his dream held truth, another Evermark bearer had awakened. The circle was beginning to form again, after centuries of dormancy.

He only hoped they would find each other before the Black Robes found them first.