The grand hall of the Ash Circle was unusually silent as Elira slipped into the archive—a place thick with dust, secrets, and the weight of forgotten years. She moved carefully between the towering shelves of aged tomes, her fingers tracing the spines of books that held centuries of coven knowledge.
Her breath caught when she spotted a small folded letter wedged between the pages of an old ledger—one she had never seen before. The paper was brittle, edges worn, and the ink faded to a dull brown. With trembling hands, she unfolded it.
The words were simple, yet heavy with menace:
"The girl cannot learn the truth—not until the blood moon. Let the lie hold."
Elira's heart pounded fiercely. Who had written this? What truth was hidden from her? And why had it been kept secret for so long?
Her mind reeled. The blood moon was a rare celestial event, spoken of only in whispers among the oldest witches. It symbolized transformation, endings, and beginnings—the kind that ripped through veils and shattered illusions.
Naerina's voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
"You're still here?" Naerina said softly, stepping into the archive's dim light. "The coven is restless. The village trembles again. Something stirs in Veil Dusk."
Elira nodded but barely heard her. "This letter… it means someone deliberately kept me in the dark. Why?"
Naerina's eyes darkened. "Because some truths are too dangerous. The fifth sigil is not just a key—it's a prison. And if it's broken before the time… it could bring ruin."
The weight of those words pressed heavily on Elira's chest. She folded the letter carefully, hiding it within her cloak. The lie held—but how long could it?
Thousands of miles away, under the vaulted, shadowed ceilings of the vampire court in Daggerdeep, Caelum sat among his closest advisers, including Orien, Auren, and Sahréa. The air was thick with tension and the scent of burning candles.
Orien broke the silence. "The blood moon approaches. The Order of the Pale Flame moves steadily toward the fifth seal's location. Their urgency grows."
Caelum's pale eyes flickered with unease. "They do not understand what they meddle with. That seal isn't merely a mark—it's a prison. Opening it may unravel the fragile balance we've fought to maintain."
Auren leaned forward, voice cool but urgent. "If the prophecy is to be believed, releasing the fifth sigil will do more than unravel balance—it could destroy both worlds. Our world and theirs."
Sahréa's lips curved in a thin, almost predatory smile. "Then we must choose: stop her or let fate decide. But I doubt she'll be so easily deterred."
Caelum's jaw clenched, the burden of his oath heavy on his shoulders. "I swore to protect this world. Yet how do I protect it when the truth itself is buried beneath lies?"
Orien's gaze hardened. "And what of Elira? If she discovers the truth too soon, it may break her—or break us all."
Caelum closed his eyes briefly, the weight of centuries pressing down. "I must prepare—for what comes after the blood moon. Whatever it may bring."
Back at the Ash Circle, Elira's restlessness grew. Every shadow seemed to whisper secrets, every corner of the coven a reminder of what she didn't know. She found herself drawn repeatedly to the letter, the cryptic warning echoing in her mind.
The blood moon was still weeks away.
And with each passing day, the lie grew heavier.
She cast a glance to the sky, where the sun dipped low behind ash-gray clouds. Somewhere, in the darkened lands between coven and court, destinies were moving toward a collision.