Ash Circle — Nightfall
The glyph had returned.
Elira had seen it — flickering beneath the stone near the eastern wall, just past the wards. It didn't belong there. It wanted to be seen.
She should have told Naerina. Should have waited until morning.
But something whispered beneath her ribs — not in fear, but familiarity.
The same pull she'd felt at the second seal.
So she left. Quietly. Leaving Tovin asleep, his fingers curled around a charm she'd carved.
She stepped past the sigil wards. The trees welcomed her like they remembered her steps. The air tasted old, like wet iron and secrets.
And then she saw him.
A tall figure, cloaked in crimson robes embroidered with ash-silver thread. His head was bowed in prayer before a crumbling altar marked with a broken glyph — not one of the seals.
Something older.
He was clearly a vampire.
But not like Caelum.
This one wore no illusion of humanity.
His skin pale as bone, lips stained with old blood, and around his neck — a twisted medallion carved from the same obsidian stone used in the Vampire Court.
He finished his silent prayer, then turned his gaze to Elira.
And smiled.
Hidden — the edge of the treeline
Vireya had followed Elira the moment she passed the wards.
She stayed silent now, her dagger humming in its sheath.
She knew that figure. Priest Isen, one of the Court's old bloodkeepers. Exiled, they said. Mad, others whispered.
But he had once stood beneath the prophecy vault — and walked away unchanged.
Vireya gripped the blade tighter.
If he was here, it meant the Court was no longer watching from afar.
Ash Circle — Tovin's Room
In the dark, something watched the boy.
Not closely. Not maliciously.
Just… waiting.
A faint scratching on the window. A mark that glowed once, then faded.
The Silent One remained at the edge of the Circle. Not entering. Not warning.
Just watching.
As if waiting for the moment everything would shift.
The City Beneath the Stone — Hidden Corridor
Caelum moved through the passage he once used as a boy. Few remembered this place. Fewer still dared.
The door opened to a chamber lit by dozens of small red lamps, and seated within — lounging on ancient cushions — was Aethros.
A friend. Once.
A traitor. Possibly.
He grinned at Caelum. "You look awful."
"You always say that."
"You always do."
Aethros rose — golden-haired, draped in worn silks, eyes like molten copper. One of the few vampires who had refused Court favor, yet still walked untouched.
"I heard you said no," Aethros said. "Again."
"I always do."
"That's why I like you," Aethros smirked. "But they're tightening. You're going to have to choose."
"I'm not theirs."
"No. But you're not hers yet either."
Caelum stepped forward. "You know something. About the glyph."
Aethros's smile vanished.
"So it's begun," he whispered. "Then we don't have much time."
The Forest Clearing Outside Ash Circle
Elira stepped carefully, eyes on the priest.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Merely a believer," he said. "In blood. In endings. In the girl who walks between fire and ash."
He tilted his head. "You."
Her pulse raced.
"I was drawn by the glyph," she said, trying to stay steady.
"Oh, the glyphs draw everyone," the priest said, stepping closer. "But not all are meant to see them."
"Why me?"
He smiled again. Too calmly. "Because you're the only one still pretending to forget."
Elira blinked. "What?"
But then his form shimmered — not changing, just… blurring, like reality had trouble holding him.
And for a moment, just beyond the trees, she saw another figure.
Draped in grey. Motionless. *The Grey Watcher.*
Then gone.
The priest took a step back.
"We'll speak again, little curse," he said, voice almost tender. "When the fifth bleeds open."
And vanished.
Behind Elira, Vireya stepped from the trees.
"You're lucky I didn't gut him."
Elira turned, rattled. "You knew him?"
Vireya's voice was tight. "He knows everything that's been forgotten. Which makes him dangerous."
"Then why didn't you stop him?"
Vireya met her eyes. "Because you needed to see him."
And somewhere deeper still, beneath fang, oath, and flame—
The prophesy stirred .
And the twist waited, just beneath the fifth.
