The chamber pulsed with faint blue light, the air thick with incense and spell-smoke. Runes etched into obsidian walls flickered like tired stars. At the center of the circular room, a long table stretched beneath floating crystals that glowed with restrained power.

  Four members of the Lesser Council—advisors ranked beneath the High Circle—lounged in high-backed chairs, robes draped like spilled ink. Their voices murmured low, too practiced to be casual.

  "So, you're telling me, "Said Master Verren, his tone dry and incredulous, "that some unmarked girl appeared out of nowhere, resisted spell work, and disappeared into the forest with an unregistered wielder?"

  "That's what the report says," replied Councillor Merek, his fingers twitching against the table. "The Enforcers attempted two containment spells. Both failed. No effect on the girl."

  "No effect?" Sorra raised an eyebrow, her silver braid glittering as she turned. "She blocked them?"

  "Didn't block. Didn't react. Like the spell just... didn't exist." Merek's voice lowered. "They said shattered it."

  Silence followed.

  "That's impossible," Verren said flatly. "Even null-mages react."

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  "She's not null," Merek muttered. "She's... something else."

  "the prophecy?" Merek added, his voice low, distant.

  "With respect, Elder," Sorra added cautiously, "the prophecy speaks in riddles. Even if this girl is immune... what if it's just coincidence? Enforcers make mistakes. Reports get embellished."

  Before anyone could respond, the room dimmed.

  A chill swept through the chamber as the door creaked open.

  Elder Caedra entered.

  All four councillors stood immediately.

  "High councillor Ceadra" they bowed.

  She glided into the room like a shadow made flesh, her deep crimson robes whispering across the stone. Her mask—bone-white and cracked down the left side—gave her a permanent look of frozen serenity.

  She waved them to return to their seats, but Caedra did not sit.

  She remained standing at the head of the table. The crystals overhead dimmed further at her presence, and one of them cracked faintly down the middle, as if in silent protest.

  "You've seen the report," she said finally. "A girl, immune to Council-grade spellwork. A boy, unregistered, showing signs of ancient magic." Her voice was calm. Controlled. Terrifying.

  "It's likely exaggeration," Verren said quickly. "The field agents were rattled. Untrained eyes see phantoms."

  "Or elder Merek is correct, it's the prophecy," Caedra replied coldly.

  Sorra blinked. "You can't believe that old tale."

  "I believe," Caedra said, turning slightly toward the flickering runes on the wall, "that the seal weakens. That dragons do not sleep as soundly as we hoped. And that a child born beyond our reach has returned."

  The runes pulsed.

  Merek swallowed. "You think it's begun."

  "I think we've been pretending it wouldn't."

  The chamber fell silent.

  Caedra turned back to the others. "Send word to the High Circle. Discreetly. Increase Enforcer patrols in the border provinces."

  She paused.

  "If the girl and the boy are found, bring them in. Alive, if possible. Erased, if not."

  Then, softer, almost to herself: "Before the Veil tears."

  The crystals overhead flickered once. Then held steady.

  And somewhere far below the tower, deep in the vaults where the old magic stirred, a chained artifact pulsed.

  Once.

  Twice.

  A jagged crack spread along the surface of the stone—a silent fracture blooming like a warning.

  Not seen. Not heard. But felt.

  Waiting.