Sleep did not come to Adrian. Despite Elarala's advice to rest, he found himself pacing the small confines of his room at the inn, the Evermark's energy still coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the mist-walkers—their featureless forms, their life-draining touch—and felt the surge of power that had flowed through him as he battled them.
Midnight approached with excruciating slowness. The guards outside maintained their vigilant patrol, though their alertness had waned somewhat as the hours passed uneventfully. Adrian had already identified a potential escape route—via the inn's rear storage loft and across adjoining rooftops—but they would need to time their departure carefully to avoid detection.
A soft knock at his door startled him from his thoughts. His hand instinctively moved to his sword before he heard Carl's voice, barely above a whisper.
"Adrian. Someone's here."
He opened the door to find Carl and Elarala in the narrow hallway, accompanied by a hooded figure whose identity was immediately apparent when she lowered her cowl—Lina, Elder Owen's daughter.
"How did you get past the guards?" Adrian asked in surprise.
A small, mischievous smile played across Lina's lips. "This inn has passageways that date back to its construction. The innkeeper's sympathetic to our cause—she lost a brother to the shadows last month."
Adrian ushered them into his room, closing the door softly behind them. "We expected to meet you at the watchtower."
"Plans change," Lina replied, her bright green eyes scanning the room before settling back on Adrian with undisguised fascination. "After tonight's attack, security around the village has tightened. My father has doubled the guard at all entry points. Getting to the watchtower undetected would be nearly impossible now."
"So you risked coming here instead," Carl observed, regarding the young woman with a mixture of concern and approval.
"I had to," she said simply. "What you did tonight—fighting the mist-walkers, saving our people—it confirmed everything I've seen in my dreams."
Adrian exchanged glances with his companions. "Your dreams about the fire-marked one."
"Yes." Lina stepped closer to Adrian, her gaze fixed on his chest where the Evermark still faintly glowed beneath his shirt. "May I... see it?"
The request was forward, almost intimate, but there was nothing but earnest curiosity in her expression. After a moment's hesitation, Adrian unfastened the top of his shirt, revealing the Evermark—a complex sigil of intertwined lines that pulsed with a deep crimson light against his skin.
Lina gasped softly, her eyes widening. "It's exactly as I dreamed," she whispered. "The eternal flame, bound to mortal flesh."
She reached out as if to touch it, then caught herself and withdrew her hand. "I'm sorry—that was presumptuous. It's just... I've never seen anything like it outside my visions."
"Your understanding of magic seems... unusual for a village elder's daughter," Adrian observed carefully, refastening his shirt.
Lina's expression turned guarded. "My father doesn't know the extent of my knowledge—or my abilities. He believes I simply have an interest in old stories and village lore." Her voice lowered. "If he knew what I could see, what I could sense..."
"He might connect it to the shadow's influence," Elarala completed the thought. "Even though your gifts appear to be innate, not void-touched."
"Exactly," Lina confirmed. "I've always been... different. Seen things others couldn't. But since the shadows came, everything has intensified. The visions are clearer, the energies more visible."
She moved to the window, careful to stay out of sight as she glanced down at the guards below. "The creatures that attacked tonight—we call them 'shadow eaters' or 'dark feeders,' though I heard your friend call them 'void thralls.'" She looked back at Elarala. "They've come five times in the past month, each attack worse than the last. Before you arrived, we'd lost seventeen villagers to them."
"And the Council does nothing?" Carl asked.
"They try," Lina acknowledged. "Order more patrols, enforce curfews, distribute protective charms. But the binding runes cloud their thoughts, make them resist any suggestion that the shadows and the repository's closure might be connected."
"What exactly happened to Archivist Thorn?" Adrian asked, returning to a crucial point of their earlier conversation.
Lina's expression darkened. "He was... emptied. His mind, his spirit—just gone, though his body lives on. He sits in a room in the town hall now, staring at nothing, responding to nothing. The healers say he might never recover."
"And this happened after the 'scholars' spent time in the repository," Adrian prompted.
"Yes. Three days they were there with him, poring over ancient texts. Thorn was excited—he rarely had visitors who could appreciate the collection's true value." She shook her head sadly. "Then they were gone, and a fourth man arrived—their 'leader,' he claimed. That's when he met with the Council, burned the runes into their arms, and the shadows appeared."
"What did they look like, these scholars?" Carl inquired.
"Ordinary enough," Lina replied. "Well-dressed, well-spoken. Nothing to mark them as unusual—except..." She hesitated.
"Except?" Elarala prompted gently.
"Their eyes," Lina said after a moment. "When they thought no one was watching, their eyes seemed... empty. Not cruel or cold, but vacant—like looking into a well with no bottom."
Adrian felt a chill at her description. It matched what he had seen in the face of the Collector who had attacked them in Elarala's valley—that sense of something inhuman looking out through a human guise.
"After tonight, the village knows what you can do," Lina continued, turning her attention back to Adrian. "My father fears you—both for your power and for what your presence might mean. The Council will likely vote to expel you tomorrow, if not worse."
"We need to reach the repository before then," Adrian stated firmly. "If the Obsidian Circle took something valuable and left something dangerous, we need to know what we're facing."
"Elwin is our best hope for that," Lina agreed. "Thorn's apprentice knows the repository's secrets better than anyone still able to speak of them."
"Can you take us to him now?" Carl asked.
Lina nodded. "That's why I came. There's a passage from this inn's cellar that connects to the old aqueduct system. We can use it to reach the river without being seen, then approach the watchtower from the water side where there are fewer guards."
As they prepared to leave, gathering only essential supplies to maintain mobility, Adrian noticed something curious about Lina. When she moved near him, the Evermark responded with a faint pulse, almost like recognition. At first, he attributed it to his heightened sensitivity after the battle, but the pattern was too consistent to ignore.
When Lina reached past him to retrieve a small map of the village she had brought, he felt it distinctly—a subtle energy signature emanating from her, different from the void-tainted shadows or Elarala's silver light. It was something purer, more elemental.
"You have power within you," he said quietly, causing her to look up in surprise. "Not just the ability to see energies—you possess some kind of energy yourself."
A flicker of alarm crossed her features before being replaced by cautious curiosity. "What do you mean? What do you sense?"
Adrian struggled to articulate what he was feeling. "It's like... a resonance. The Evermark recognizes something in you. Something familiar but not identical."
Elarala moved closer, her blind eyes focusing on Lina with that uncanny precision. "May I?" she asked, holding out her hand.
After a moment's hesitation, Lina placed her hand in Elarala's. The blind seer remained still for several seconds, her expression revealing nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a note of wonder.
"Light affinity," she said. "Not fully manifested, but present nonetheless. And old—very old in its pattern, like the Evermark itself."
"What does that mean?" Lina asked, a tremor in her voice.
"It means you have a natural connection to one of the primal elements—light, in your case," Elarala explained. "Such affinities are exceedingly rare, especially in untrained individuals."
"Could that be why I see the shadows? Why I dream of marks and fire?"
"Almost certainly," Elarala confirmed. "Light and void are natural opposites. Your affinity would make you sensitive to void intrusions like the shadow spell-web."
Adrian studied Lina with newfound interest. "Is it possible she could develop abilities similar to mine? To actively use this energy, not just sense it?"
"With proper training, yes," Elarala replied. "Though her affinity manifests differently. Where your Evermark channels fire, her connection is to pure light—illumination, clarity, revealing what is hidden."
Lina looked stunned, as if pieces of a lifelong puzzle were suddenly falling into place. "The village elders always said I had 'the sight' like my grandmother. But this is more than just seeing things others can't, isn't it?"
"Much more," Elarala confirmed. "And it may explain why you were able to resist the shadow's influence when others, including your father, could not."
A new determination settled over Lina's features. "Then I need to understand this power—learn to use it. If it can help save my father, my village..."
"First, we need to reach Elwin," Carl reminded them pragmatically. "Time is short, and the guards will be changing shifts soon—that's our best window to move undetected."
Lina nodded, composing herself. "You're right. Follow me to the cellar. Stay close and step exactly where I step—parts of the passage are unstable."
As they made their way silently down the inn's back stairs, Adrian's mind worked to process this new development. Lina's light affinity created an intriguing counterpoint to his fire—especially given his growing suspicion that the Evermark was not just a source of power, but a key to finding others like himself. Elarala had mentioned five Evermarks, one for each primal element. If Lina had a natural affinity for light, could she be connected to this larger pattern?
The cellar was dark and musty, filled with barrels of ale and sacks of provisions. Lina moved confidently to the far wall, counting stones from the corner until she found what she was seeking—a loose brick that, when pressed, revealed a hidden mechanism. With a soft grinding sound, a section of the wall swung inward, revealing a narrow tunnel beyond.
"The old smuggler's route," Lina explained in a whisper. "From when Forest Star was a border town and taxes on river trade were higher. Few remember it exists now."
She produced a small crystal from her pocket, which began to glow with a soft white light when she cupped it in her palms and whispered something to it. The light was dim enough not to draw attention but sufficient to illuminate their path.
"A light stone," Carl identified it with appreciation. "Harmonic crystal attuned to respond to specific vocal frequencies. Clever."
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Lina looked pleased by his recognition. "My grandmother's. She taught me the activation phrase before she died."
"Your grandmother knew more than village lore, it seems," Elarala observed as they entered the passage.
"She was the village healer for fifty years," Lina replied, leading them deeper into the tunnel. "People respected her knowledge of herbs and remedies, but whispered about her other... talents."
"Like your own," Adrian surmised.
"Yes. She said our family had a gift passed down through generations. A connection to the 'clear light,' she called it." Lina ducked beneath a low-hanging support beam. "I always thought it was just her way of explaining intuition or keen observation. Now I wonder what else she knew but never told me."
The passage gradually sloped downward, the air growing cooler and damper as they proceeded. After several minutes of careful progress, they emerged into a larger tunnel with a channel of running water down its center—the old aqueduct Lina had mentioned.
"We follow this to the river," she instructed. "About half a mile. The water's shallow enough to wade through, and it will mask our scent from the guard dogs."
They proceeded in single file, splashing quietly through the ankle-deep water. Adrian kept his senses alert for any sign of danger, but the tunnel remained quiet save for the gentle flow of water and their own careful movements.
"These Shadow Eaters," Adrian said quietly as they walked, "you said they've attacked five times. Is there a pattern to when they appear?"
"Yes," Lina replied over her shoulder. "Always at night, always during the new moon when darkness is strongest. Except tonight—this attack was unusual, out of the normal cycle."
"Because of us," Carl concluded grimly. "Our presence, particularly Adrian's Evermark, likely drew them out."
"The void is naturally attracted to powerful sources of elemental energy," Elarala explained. "It seeks to consume, to fill its emptiness with the fullness of life and magic."
"The village calls them Shadow Eaters because they seem to devour a person's essence," Lina added. "Leaving behind only empty shells—like Archivist Thorn, but worse. At least his body still lives. Those taken by the Shadow Eaters simply... cease. There's nothing left to bury."
Adrian thought of the creatures he had fought—how they had absorbed the life energy of their victims, growing stronger with each feeding. "They're harvesting," he realized aloud. "Collecting life energy for some purpose."
"The corrupted spell-web," Elarala agreed. "It requires power to maintain itself, especially if it's protecting something in the repository."
They reached the end of the aqueduct, emerging through a grated opening onto a small, pebbly beach along the river's edge. The night was clear and star-filled, with just enough moonlight to see by once their eyes adjusted from the tunnel's darkness.
Lina extinguished her light stone and pointed downstream. "The watchtower is there, about a quarter mile. We need to stay close to the water's edge, beneath the tree line. The guard patrols rarely come this far down the bank."
As they made their way along the riverbank, Adrian found himself walking beside Lina, while Carl and Elarala followed a few paces behind. The young woman moved with surprising confidence in the darkness, as if the night held few secrets from her sight.
"When did your dreams about me begin?" Adrian asked quietly, his curiosity finally overcoming his caution.
"After the shadows came," she replied. "At first, they were vague—impressions of fire holding back darkness, of ancient marks awakening. Then they became more specific." She glanced at him. "I saw your face clearly three nights ago. Saw you wielding fire against the Shadow Eaters. When you actually arrived yesterday, it was... startling."
"And this light affinity Elarala mentioned—have you ever actively used it? Created light, like I create fire?"
Lina hesitated. "Not intentionally. Sometimes, when I'm frightened or angry, lights around me grow brighter. Candle flames reach toward me. Once, when a boy in the village was tormenting a stray dog, a beam of sunlight suddenly became so intense it burned his hand." She looked troubled by the memory. "I was eleven. I knew somehow that I had caused it, but I didn't understand how."
"The Evermark channels and focuses my natural affinity for fire," Adrian explained. "It sounds like your connection to light operates on similar principles, just without the focusing mechanism of a mark."
"Could I learn to control it? Use it like you use your fire?"
"I believe so," Adrian replied. "Elarala has been teaching me to harness the Evermark's power more precisely. Similar techniques might work for your light affinity."
Lina fell silent for a moment, processing this. "All my life I've felt different—set apart by abilities I didn't understand and couldn't control. To think there might be purpose to it, a reason..." Her voice trailed off, heavy with emotion.
Adrian understood that feeling all too well—the mix of wonder and terror that came with discovering one's true nature, the sense of burden and possibility intertwined. He had experienced the same when awakening in this strange time, finding the Evermark active within him.
"The watchtower is just ahead," Lina said, changing the subject as she pointed to a stone structure silhouetted against the starry sky. It stood alone on a small rise near the river, partially crumbled but still substantial. No lights were visible within.
"How will Elwin know to expect us?" Carl asked as they approached.
"He won't," Lina admitted. "But he trusts me. I've been bringing him supplies since he went into hiding."
The watchtower had clearly been abandoned for decades before Elwin took refuge there. Moss covered its lower stones, and part of the roof had collapsed, leaving the upper level open to the elements. A single door, reinforced with iron bands, provided the only visible entrance.
Lina approached and knocked in a distinctive pattern—three quick taps, pause, two taps, pause, three quick taps. They waited in tense silence, seconds stretching uncomfortably until a faint scraping sound came from within.
The door opened just wide enough to reveal a sliver of a young man's face—pale, nervous, with darting eyes that widened when they spotted the three strangers accompanying Lina.
"It's alright, Elwin," she said softly. "They're here to help. They fought the Shadow Eaters tonight—actually drove them back."
The door opened wider, revealing a thin young man perhaps a few years older than Lina. His clothes were rumpled but of good quality, marking him as educated rather than common. Dark circles beneath his eyes spoke of many sleepless nights.
"You brought outsiders to my sanctuary," he said, his voice a blend of accusation and fear. "After everything that's happened—"
"They need to know about the repository," Lina interrupted. "About what those 'scholars' were seeking. They have power, Elwin—power that might stand against the shadows."
Elwin's gaze settled on Adrian, narrowing slightly. "You're the fire-wielder everyone's talking about. The one who cut through the Shadow Eaters like they were morning mist."
Adrian nodded. "We came seeking knowledge from the repository—information about marks like mine, about the void forces threatening your village and others."
"Knowledge," Elwin repeated bitterly. "That's what they said too—the ones who took Master Thorn's mind." He hesitated, conflict evident in his expression, before stepping back with a resigned sigh. "Come in, then. If Lina trusts you, I suppose I have little choice."
The interior of the watchtower was surprisingly well-organized despite its dilapidated state. A small fire burned in a makeshift hearth, carefully vented to disperse the smoke and avoid detection. Shelves fashioned from broken furniture held stacks of books and scrolls. A bedroll lay in one corner, while a desk covered in papers occupied another.
"You've brought Thorn's work here," Carl observed, his historian's interest evident as he surveyed the materials.
"What I could salvage," Elwin confirmed, closing and barring the door behind them. "Before they sealed the repository. Most of the truly valuable texts remain locked inside, but I grabbed what research we were actively conducting."
"Which was?" Elarala prompted.
"The Covenant Wards," Elwin replied, moving to the desk and retrieving a leather-bound journal. "The original protective enchantments placed on Forest Star Village when it was founded as a knowledge sanctuary. Master Thorn believed they were weakening with age—that they needed renewal before they failed entirely."
"And the scholars who came—they were interested in these wards?" Adrian asked.
Elwin's expression darkened. "Obsessively so. They asked endless questions about the ward anchors, the activation phrases, the energy sources. Master Thorn was delighted to find others who shared his concern." His voice cracked slightly. "He had no idea what they truly intended."
"To corrupt the wards," Elarala stated. "To invert their purpose—turning protection inward to containment."
"Yes," Elwin confirmed, looking surprised at her accurate assessment. "But how did you know?"
"I've seen such perversions before," she replied grimly. "It requires intimate knowledge of the original workings—you cannot corrupt what you do not understand first."
Elwin nodded. "They spent three days extracting every detail from Master Thorn, praising his expertise, encouraging him to share everything he knew about the wards. Then they..." He swallowed hard. "They performed some kind of ritual on him. I wasn't present—I'd been sent to retrieve texts from storage. When I returned, Master Thorn sat staring at nothing, and the scholars were packing to leave."
"And you hid instead of reporting what happened," Carl surmised.
"I panicked," Elwin admitted. "I knew something terrible had occurred, but I didn't understand what. By the time I gathered my courage to speak, the shadows had appeared, and people who asked questions about the repository began having... accidents."
"What exactly were these Covenant Wards designed to protect?" Adrian asked.
Elwin exchanged glances with Lina before answering. "Not what—who. Forest Star Village was founded as a sanctuary for the last survivors of the Silver Covenant after the Great Purge. The repository doesn't just hold knowledge—it holds bloodlines. Many villagers are descendants of Covenant members, though few remember their heritage now."
This new information settled heavily in the room. Adrian thought of Elder Owen's reaction to his flaming sword, the recognition that had flashed across his face before being subsumed by fear.
"The village elders know this history?" he asked.
"Some fragments," Lina replied. "Passed down as family lore, mostly. The full significance has been lost over generations."
"Not lost," Elwin corrected. "Deliberately obscured. The survivors of the Covenant knew they were still hunted. They hid their knowledge in plain sight—as folk tales, village customs, seemingly meaningless rituals. Protection through mundanity."
"And buried within those customs," Elarala mused, "the maintenance of the wards, performed unwittingly by villagers who thought they were simply honoring tradition."
"Exactly," Elwin confirmed with a nod of respect toward the blind seer. "Master Thorn was one of the few who understood the true purpose. He had been systematically documenting and reconstructing the original warding system."
Adrian felt pieces clicking into place. "And that documentation is what the Obsidian Circle found—the key to corrupting the wards."
"Yes," Elwin said. "But there's more. The repository contains artifacts as well as texts—items saved from the Covenant's destruction. Master Thorn believed one of these artifacts was what the 'scholars' truly sought. Something called the Luminary Codex."
At the name, Elarala went very still. "You're certain that's what they sought? The Luminary Codex?"
Elwin nodded slowly. "Master Thorn mentioned it in his notes. Said they asked about it specifically, though he pretended ignorance at first."
"What is the Luminary Codex?" Adrian asked, noting Elarala's reaction.
"A record of all Evermark bearers," she replied softly. "Their names, their abilities, their locations. Created by Elenna herself as a means of reuniting the five should the need arise."
The implications were immediately clear. "If the Obsidian Circle has this Codex..." Adrian began.
"Then they can locate other Evermark bearers," Carl finished grimly. "Hunt them systematically."
"Or worse," Elarala added. "Use the Codex to prevent new bearers from awakening to their power."
Lina had moved to stand by the watchtower's narrow window, gazing out toward the village with troubled eyes. "Is that what they left in the repository? Whatever's feeding the shadows, powering the corrupted wards?"
"Not the Codex itself," Elwin said. "Master Thorn's notes suggest they took that with them. But they could have left something else—a void anchor, perhaps, to maintain the corruption."
"We need to get into the repository," Adrian stated firmly. "Confirm what they took, remove whatever they left behind."
"Impossible," Elwin replied, shaking his head. "The main doors are sealed with void-infused runes. Anyone trying to enter triggers the shadows—I watched a junior archivist try. He was..." The young man swallowed hard. "There wasn't enough left to bury."
"There must be another way in," Carl pressed. "Secret entrances, maintenance access—something."
Elwin hesitated, conflict evident in his expression. "There is one possibility," he finally admitted. "The repository was built above an older structure—catacombs dating back to before the village's founding. They're sealed off now, but Master Thorn showed me the original building plans once. There's a passage from the river that might still connect to the lower levels."
"And you think this passage might bypass the void seals?" Adrian asked.
"It's possible," Elwin replied. "The seals were placed on known entrances. If this river passage has been forgotten long enough..."
"It's worth investigating," Carl decided. "Can you show us where this passage might be located?"
Elwin moved to his desk, shuffling through papers until he found what he sought—a yellowed parchment showing architectural drawings of the repository and surrounding structures. "Here," he said, pointing to a faint line extending from the building's foundation toward the river. "It's likely overgrown, possibly flooded in sections, but it might still be passable."
As they gathered around the makeshift table to study the plans, Adrian felt the Evermark pulse warmly. When he looked up, he found Lina watching him, her expression thoughtful.
"What is it?" he asked.
"When you fought the Shadow Eaters tonight," she said slowly, "your fire didn't just destroy them—it purified the spaces they had corrupted. For a moment, the shadows retreated everywhere your flames touched."
"You think my fire could cleanse the void corruption in the repository?"
"I think it might," she replied. "And I think my light affinity, as you called it, might help. The shadows shrink from me sometimes, though I've never actively tried to repel them."
Adrian considered this. Fire and light—complementary energies, both natural enemies of void and shadow. If Lina could indeed tap into her affinity more actively...
"We'll need every advantage," he acknowledged. "If you're willing to help, we'd welcome it."
"My village is dying," Lina said simply. "People disappear, or live in constant fear. My own father is enslaved by runes he believes protect him. Of course I'm willing."
Elwin looked considerably less enthusiastic. "The passage will be dangerous even without considering what might await inside the repository itself. If the void anchor is powerful enough to maintain the corrupted wards across the entire village..."
"We've faced void entities before," Carl assured him. "Including a Collector far more powerful than these Shadow Eaters."
"We leave at dawn," Adrian decided. "The shadows are weakest in full daylight—that will give us the best chance of reaching the passage undetected."
"I'll need to return to the village before I'm missed," Lina said. "My father checks on me at sunrise prayers. I can meet you at river bend where the old mill ruins stand—that's closest to where the passage should emerge."
As they finalized their plans, Adrian noticed Lina watching him again, her bright green eyes reflecting the firelight with an almost supernatural clarity. There was something in her gaze beyond mere curiosity now—a dawning recognition, perhaps even a kinship.
Fire and light. The Evermark and Lina's natural affinity. Two elemental forces aligned against the creeping void that threatened Forest Star Village. Adrian couldn't help but wonder if this alignment was mere chance, or part of a larger pattern—one that had been set in motion centuries ago by Elenna and the Silver Covenant.
Either way, dawn would bring them one step closer to the repository's secrets—and to whatever dark power the Obsidian Circle had left behind to guard them.