Reality shattered like a mirror struck by lightning. For an instant, Elden felt his body stretched across dimensions. Then, with a thunderous crack, existence snapped back into focus.

Elden crashed to the ground, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. Beside him, Galen retched, the boy's small frame shaking with the aftereffects of their desperate teleportation. Gertrude stumbled to her feet, her usually pristine robes caked with mud and worse. And there, a few paces away, stood Nadir – Elden's newfound uncle – his withered arm crackling with residual entropic energy.

"Where... where are we?" Galen managed between ragged breaths.

Elden forced himself upright, scanning their surroundings. Twisted trees dotted a barren plain, their branches reaching towards a sky heavy with storm clouds. In the distance, craggy mountains loomed like the teeth of some slumbering giant.

"Not Whispervale," Elden said grimly. "Dusk's final teleport... it must have gone awry."

At the mention of Dusk's name, a heavy silence fell over the group. The shadow mage's sacrifice hung in the air between them, an unspoken weight on their already burdened shoulders.

Nadir cleared his throat, breaking the somber mood. "We should move," he said, his voice gruff. "Find shelter, get our bearings."

As they began to gather themselves, Elden felt Nadir's gaze upon him. The older man's eyes were a storm of emotions – grief, hope, uncertainty.

"So," Nadir began awkwardly, "you're... you're Seraphine's boy."

Elden met his uncle's gaze, his own emotions a tangled mess. "And you're her brother," he replied. "The one she told my father to find."

Nadir's eyes widened in surprise. "She... she remembered me?"

Elden hesitated, then made a decision. He closed his eyes, focusing on the faint remnants of the Timeless Seal's magic that still clung to him. With careful precision, he began to reconstruct a memory – not his own, but one he had glimpsed in that fateful moment when he had unsealed his father's pendant.

The air between them shimmered, and suddenly they were standing in a sunlit room in Mnemosyne. Seraphine stood by the window, her silver hair catching the light. Edward sat nearby, his face etched with concern.

"Promise me," Seraphine's voice echoed, filled with urgency. "Promise me that when the time comes, you'll find my brother. He's out there somewhere, I know it."

As the memory played out, Elden discreetly wove a strand of magic derived from the Timeless Seal. It reached out, probing Nadir's emotional response. The feedback was immediate and overwhelming – a tidal wave of love, guilt, and longing that nearly brought Elden to his knees.

The memory faded, leaving them once again in the desolate landscape. Nadir's face was a mask of raw emotion. "She never forgot," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Elden nodded, feeling a connection to his uncle solidify. "She never did."

Gertrude, her face lined with fatigue but her eyes sharp with determination, spoke up. "We need to assess our situation," she said, her voice carrying the calm authority that had made her a respected elder of the Empath Council. "We're all exhausted, in unfamiliar territory, and... and we're all, in one way or another, fugitives now."

Elden nodded, feeling the weight of their predicament settle over him. "Mnemion controls Mnemosyne," he said, his voice tight. "And Empyrea..."

"I doubt I'll be welcome back as an elder of the Empath Council anytime soon," Gertrude finished with a wry smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Elden noted how Nadir’s hand, withered and twisted, reflexively clenched and unclenched.

Elden hesitated, then spoke, keeping his tone casual. "Uncle, your magic… It's unlike anything I’ve seen before. How did you come by it?"

Nadir’s gaze flicked up, momentarily distant. "It’s the withering path," he said, his voice gravelly. "A corruption of what once was."

Elden frowned, trying to piece together what that meant. "What was it before?"

Nadir sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of past regrets. "I was an air mage, once. Mastered the tornado path—eight stars." He paused, eyes unfocused as if seeing something far away. "But the Shattering changed everything."

Elden could see the memories playing behind Nadir’s eyes—the fierce air mage he must have been, the destruction that followed. "What happened after the Shattering?" Elden asked, his voice soft, almost as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment.

Nadir’s hand stilled, his expression hardening. "Before we get into that, there’s something you need to understand about the Cabal."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The mention of the Cabal made the air in the room seem thicker, more oppressive. Elden tensed, sensing the shift in Nadir’s demeanor.

"It’s not just an organization," Nadir continued, his tone measured. "It’s a living, breathing entity, with Eternity at its heart and the Hands of Time as its limbs. I was one of those limbs—the ninth hand."

Elden's eyes widened in shock. "You were a Hand of Time?"

Nadir nodded grimly. "A long time ago. But even then, I didn't know everything. Eternity keeps his secrets close."

"What can you tell us about the other Hands?" Elden pressed.

"There are twelve of us... them," Nadir corrected himself. "Each granted unique abilities by Eternity himself. But I only knew a few. We were kept separate, only meeting when Eternity summoned us."

He hesitated, his gaze distant as if lost in the shadows of his past. "Each of us, the Hands of Time, is bound to Eternity in ways deeper than any chain. I was his blade, cutting down mages who dared to challenge the Cabal’s will."

Gertrude’s voice cut through the silence, soft yet insistent. "Then what changed? Why did you leave?"

Nadir’s face hardened, the weight of his decisions pulling at the corners of his eyes. "I... abandoned my post," he said, the words heavy with regret. "Years ago, whispers reached me—rumors of Sera, in Mnemosyne. After all the years of searching, I couldn’t turn away. Not when I was so close."

The room seemed to tighten around them as Nadir’s voice cracked, raw with emotion. "But Eternity... he caught me. Labeled me a traitor, a betrayer of the Cabal. And the worst part? I wish I had truly betrayed them. I’ve taken lives, stained my hands with the blood of those who only sought freedom. It’s a weight I’ll carry to my grave."

Silence fell, thick and suffocating, as the gravity of Nadir’s confession settled over them. The air was heavy with the unspoken truth, the room charged with the echoes of past sins.

Gertrude reached out, placing a gentle hand on Nadir’s shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with sincerity. "Sharing this couldn’t have been easy."

Nadir clenched his teeth. "I'm afraid that we're not out of the woods yet. But I might have a suggestion for our next move."

They gathered around as Nadir continued, his voice low and urgent. "We're wanted in both Mnemosyne and Empyrea now. We need a place to regroup, gather supplies, and plan our next move. I have some... connections in Zephyria. Old friends who might be willing to help, even with the current political climate."

Elden raised an eyebrow. "Zephyria? The floating cities?" He remembered reading about the technologically advanced realm in Mnemosyne's archives. "Won't that be dangerous? I've heard rumors of civil unrest."

Nadir nodded grimly. "It is. But it might be our best chance. They're known for their magic engineering and inventions. If we can find a skilled enough engineer, we might be able to create some sort of cloaking device with the inside knowledge that I have. Something to hide us from Eternity's sight."

As the group digested this information, a sudden realization hit Elden like a physical blow. "Oh no," he breathed, his face paling. "Bell. The refugees from Whispervale. In all the chaos, I... I completely forgot."

He quickly filled them in on the events in Whispervale – the time-touched refugees, Bell, Sylas and the Cabal's plots, and Talia's sacrifice. As he spoke, he could see the weight of responsibility settling over Gertrude's shoulders.

"We can't abandon them," Gertrude said firmly when Elden had finished. "They're vulnerable, and if the Cabal locates the time touched refugees..."

"Exactly," Elden agreed. "Gertrude, I know it's asking a lot, but is there any way you could find them?"

Gertrude's brow furrowed in concentration. "It won't be easy," she said slowly. "Especially from this distance. But... I think I can manage it."

A plan began to form in Elden's mind. "If you can find them," he said, "could you help rally them and keep them safe? Then regroup with us after we find this Cabal cloaking device in Zephyria?"

Gertrude nodded, her expression a mix of determination and resignation. "It's the right thing to do," she said. "But Elden... are you sure about this? Splitting up is dangerous, especially now."

Elden felt the weight of leadership settle over him, "I don't see that we have much choice," he said. "We can't leave Bell and those refugees unprotected, but we also can't ignore the threat of the Cabal. If Nadir's right about the Cabal’s tracking capabilities..."

"It could be our only chance at staying ahead of the Cabal," Nadir finished.

A heavy silence fell over the group as they all considered the gravity of their situation. Finally, Galen spoke up, his young voice cutting through the tension. "So... what? We just walk to Zephyria? I don't suppose anyone packed a map in their prison break kit?"

Despite everything, Elden found himself chuckling. "Not quite," he said, ruffling Galen's hair. "First, we need to figure out exactly where we are. Then we can plot a course to Zephyria."

"I might be able to help with that," Nadir said. He closed his eyes, concentrating. When he opened them again, there was a glimmer of hope in his gaze. "We're in the outskirts of the Whispering Plains, near the border of the Spire Mountains. If we head northwest, we should reach the edge of Zephyria's territory in three days, maybe four."

Elden nodded, the plan solidifying in his mind. "Alright," he said, looking at each of his companions in turn. "Gertrude, you focus on locating Bell and the refugees. The rest of us will make for Zephyria. With any luck, we'll be able to create this cloaking device and regroup with you before the Cabal realizes what we're up to."

Gertrude embraced each of them in turn, her usually composed demeanor cracking to reveal the depth of her concern. "Be safe," she whispered as she hugged Elden. "And remember, no matter what happens, you are not alone."

With those final words of encouragement, Gertrude began to weave her movement magic, preparing for the arduous task of locating Bell and the refugees. As her form shimmered and faded, carried away by the currents of magical energy, Elden turned to Nadir and Galen.

"Well," he said, managing a grim smile, "I guess we're off to Zephyria. Let's hope your old connections are as reliable as you think, uncle."