Elira had experienced fear before—the bitter, wind-battering terror when the Soul-Bond first ignited on her skin, the suffocating weight of eyes that hated her, the nauseating shiver of Kael's void magic skating over her soul. But this was not like that.
This was old. Cold. Profound.
Something had awakened beneath Arcanis Academy.
Even as they emerged from the underground chamber—Kael holding her hand too hard, his face empty—the sound of that voice still resonated in her bones.
You are not yet ready,
"What was that thing?" Elira panted when they were alone, a few feet beyond the ancient tunnels. The moon illuminated the garden ruins in silver, and mist clung to the stones like a held breath.
Kael did not answer at once. He swiveled his head like he was expecting someone—or something—to arrive. Then he spoke, low and dark, "A Rift Warden. Or what remains of one."
Elira blinked. "What's that?"
