The common room pulsed with life, warmth spilling from the crackling fireplace as shadows danced along the stone walls. Laughter wove through the air, blending with the lively chatter and the rhythmic tap of a restless foot against the floorboards.

  Perched on the mantel, Ash and Noir—observed the conversation with sharp, knowing eyes. Noir fluffed his feathers, letting out a slow, unimpressed caw, while Ash tilted her head, watching the group with the kind of silent judgment only a raven could manage.

  Aiden leaned back in his chair, one ankle resting on his knee, arms folded in effortless confidence. A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Come on, Thorne, do you really think you can outrun me? I swear, I can hear the wind whispering your name every time you trip over your own feet.”

  Thorne scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned forward. “I’ll have you know, the wind and I are on very good terms. It chooses to let me conserve my energy. Unlike some people, I don’t waste it on pointless displays.”

  Lyric sighed, draping her arms over the back of her chair. “You two should really channel that energy into something useful. What exactly are you competing for? Bragging rights?”

  Elias stood near the hearth, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face. He tapped a finger against his chin. “Maybe we should compete. Not just to win, but to understand our strengths—and our weaknesses. That might help us actually work together instead of throwing insults across the room.”

  A rustling sound came from the mantel. Ash flapped her wings slightly, then lifted one talon and made a series of small, deliberate motions. Alice glanced up, a smirk tugging at her lips.

  Thorne caught the look and frowned. “What?”

  Alice, perched on the armrest of a couch, shook her head, barely containing a chuckle. “Oh, nothing. Ash just said the wind must have very strong arms from all the times it has to catch you after you fall.”

  A moment of silence. Then Lyric choked on a laugh, while Aiden nearly doubled over.

  “That’s a good one,” Aiden wheezed, grinning. “Finally, someone in this room with real wit.”

  Noir gave a low, gravelly caw, then stretched out a wing, curling it inward in a slow, exaggerated flex. Ash, still perched beside him, mimicked the motion.

  Alice covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Oh—Noir says if that’s real wit, then you’re in even worse shape than Thorne.”

  Aiden’s grin vanished. “Excuse me?”

  Noir blinked at him. Then, with deliberate patience, he turned his head and pointedly looked away.

  Elias chuckled, shaking his head. “We’re all in trouble if we start losing arguments to a pair of ravens.”

  The group burst into laughter, the tension of their previous training sessions temporarily forgotten. But beneath the laughter lay unspoken doubts and insecurities that lingered in the corners of their minds.

  The door creaked open, and conversation stuttered to a halt. Cassandra strode in, her sharp gaze sweeping over them, reading the atmosphere like a book left carelessly open. She arched a brow.

  “Are you all done bickering like children?” Though her words carried a bite, the slight smirk playing at her lips softened the impact.

  Thorne straightened, his expression shifting from playful to curious. “Depends. Are you here to give us something more interesting to do?”

  Cassandra flicked her fingers toward the door, already turning on her heel. “That depends—how much do you care about surviving what’s coming?”

  Her voice carried effortlessly, neither rushed nor impatient, but weighted with meaning. “We need to discuss strategies. Now.”

  Elias’s posture stiffened as he watched her push open the door and step out into the corridor. Firelight flickered against his face, deepening the creases in his brow. He glanced at the others before following. “If it’s that important, why not talk here?” His words were calm, measured, but there was a tension beneath them.

  Cassandra didn’t slow her pace. “Because this isn’t just another lesson.” The echo of her boots against the stone floor punctuated her words. “This is bigger than you realize. And by the time we’re done, you’ll wish we weren’t having this conversation at all.”

  One by one, the others trailed after her. The moment they crossed the threshold, a draft of cold air swept past them, sharp and biting. The warmth and laughter of the common room seemed to dissolve behind them, replaced by the quiet weight of something far heavier.

  Ash and Noir, however, were in no hurry to leave. The two ravens lingered near the doorway, their sharp eyes darting around as if sizing up their next source of entertainment. Noir hopped onto a nearby shelf, eyeing a decorative metal orb with deep curiosity. With a flick of his beak, he nudged it, sending it rolling off the edge.

  Alice spun around just in time to see the orb clatter against the floor. She groaned. “Oh, no, no, no—you two are not messing with things around here.” She pointed a firm finger at them. “Behave.”

  Ash, utterly unfazed, merely tilted his head and gave a slow, exaggerated blink, as if to say, And what exactly do you think we’ve done?

  Noir let out an innocent-sounding caw—a little too innocent.

  Alice narrowed her eyes. “I mean it. If I come back and find the furniture mysteriously rearranged, or books thrown off the shelves, or—” she hesitated, eyes narrowing further “—something weird just casually missing, I’m plucking a feather from each of you.”

  Noir fluffed himself up, clearly offended, letting out an indignant caw.

  Ash, on the other hand, gave an amused flick of his wings, tilting his head as if weighing the risk versus the reward. Then, with a slow, deliberate hop, he turned away, feigning innocence.

  Alice let out a weary sigh, rubbing her temples. “Why do I even bother?”

  With one last wary glance to ensure the two troublemakers weren’t already conspiring, she quickened her pace, slipping out of the common room. The warmth of the fireplace faded behind her as she stepped into the corridor, where the others had already begun moving ahead. Their voices carried in hushed tones, the shift in atmosphere palpable.

  She caught up just as Thorne fell into step beside Cassandra, his usual swagger subdued, curiosity flickering behind his eyes. “We already know there are dangers ahead,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “What exactly are we dealing with?”

  Cassandra didn’t look at him. She kept walking, her eyes fixed straight ahead. “Something that will test every limit you thought you had.”

  The hallway stretched before them, the flickering lights carving jagged shadows across the stone walls. Each step deepened the silence, as if the sanctum itself had drawn a breath and forgotten to let it out.

  Behind the group, Lyric let out a dry sigh. “Let me guess. Demons, shadow beasts, and horrors ripped straight out of ancient nightmares?”

  Cassandra barely turned her head, but her sharp gaze cut through the dim light. “That’s just the surface.” Her voice was steady, unyielding. “It’s not one enemy we’re facing. Every realm holds three, four—sometimes more—powerful species that could tip the balance. And then there are the two realms we know nothing about.”

  She paused, letting the words settle. “Aeridorn and Terranova.”

  A ripple of unease passed between them. Even Thorne, usually quick with a smirk, was silent. Aiden slowed his stride, exchanging a glance with Elias. “You’re saying we have no records? No history? Nothing?”

  Cassandra gave a single nod. "No attacks have ever come from them, which means we don't even know what kind of people or creatures inhabit them. For all we know, they could be watching, waiting."

  They reached the end of the corridor, where a towering wooden door loomed before them. The symbols of the Eight Realms were carved deep into the aged wood, their edges worn smooth by time. Cassandra pressed her palm against the surface, and with a low groan, the door swung open.

  Inside, the briefing room was vast, its stone walls lined with old charts and faded records. A long table stretched across the center, a massive map of the realms glowing faintly upon its surface. At the front, an ancient board stood, the ghost of old markings barely visible under the cool overhead lights.

  Cassandra stepped inside without hesitation, scanning the space with a practiced eye. “This is where we prepare,” she said, her tone unreadable. “If we’re going to survive what’s coming, we need to understand every drifter, every creature, and the threats they pose.”

  She strode to the board, grabbed a duster, and wiped the surface clean with quick, decisive strokes. The faint screech of the eraser echoed in the quiet. Without turning around, she said, “Take a seat. This will take a while.”

  Elias pulled out a chair first, his fingers tapping absently against the armrest. His eyes flickered toward Cassandra, unreadable. Beside him, Thorne dropped lazily into a seat, arms crossed—but beneath his skin, a restless warmth pulsed, the presence of Pyrix coiling like a barely contained ember.

  Lyric hesitated before slipping into a chair across from them, her arms folding as her eyes dropped downward, lost in thought. Alice claimed the far end without a word, reaching for one of the thick books stacked at the center of the table, flipping through its pages with quiet intensity.

  Aiden sat beside her, his sharp gaze tracking Cassandra’s movements. A flicker of silver danced in his irises—Fenrik, coiled within, silent but watchful. Cassandra uncapped the marker with a soft click, the scent of ink faint in the air. Turning to the board, she wrote in smooth, deliberate strokes:

  Zephyros. Umbrathis. Nyxthera. Solrion. Pyrranis. Thalassara.

  She paused, shifting slightly before marking a separate section. Aeridorn. Terranova.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Their names stood apart, isolated from the rest. Only when she was finished did she turn back to face them. “These are the known realms.” She tapped the first six names with the marker. “We have a general understanding of what exists in them.”

  Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she pointed to the last two. “These, however—” her voice dropped slightly, an edge of caution threading through it “—remain a mystery.”

  Elias leaned forward, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “We know about Zephyros, but what about the others? What exactly are we up against?”

  Cassandra rested her hands on the back of an empty chair, her gaze sweeping over them. “Zephyros is our home, but the rest are unpredictable. Even the realms we’ve studied hold dangers we don’t fully understand.”

  She turned back to the board and, without a word, underlined Umbrathis. The marker glided beneath it before she wrote beneath the name:

  Gloomshapers. Siphonblights.

  She set the marker down, exhaling quietly before speaking. “Umbrathis breeds creatures of darkness. The Gloomshapers twist shadows into illusions, feeding on fear.” She tapped the next name. “And the Siphonblights? They drain the very life from their victims, leaving only husks in their wake.”

  Thorne exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the table. “Sounds pleasant.”

  Cassandra didn’t acknowledge the remark. Instead, she circled Nyxthera on the board and wrote:

  Veilstalkers. Frostfiends.

  She turned back, her expression unreadable as she spoke. “A thousand years ago, the last great attack came from Nyxthera.”

  The room fell eerily silent. The faint hum of the overhead lights seemed deafening in the absence of conversation.

  Cassandra continued, her tone steady, each word deliberate. “It was the deadliest assault in recorded history. The Protectors before you fought until the very end—but none of them made it out alive.”

  No one spoke. The weight of her words settled over the room, pressing down like an unseen force. Alice stopped mid-page, fingers tightening on the paper. Elias leaned back, arms crossed, his expression darkened. Aiden tapped his knuckle against the table, slower than usual. Lyric sat rigid, hands folded tightly in her lap. Thorne, once lounging, straightened, his eyes sharp with focus.

  Cassandra turned back to the board. “Nyxthera has always been shrouded in secrecy, but we do know what we’re up against.” She underlined the first threat.

  “The Veilstalkers. Shadowborn creatures that phase in and out of dimensions, striking unseen, dragging their prey into the void before anyone can react.”

  Aiden exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat, but said nothing. Thorne clenched his jaw, his fingers curling against the table’s edge.

  Cassandra tapped the next word. “And the Frostfiends. Not just cold—they summon it. Blizzards that don’t end. Ice that creeps into your bones. Entire legions frozen before they can even lift a weapon.”

  Elias rested his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced as he stared at the words on the board, deep in thought. Alice closed the book she had been holding and set it aside. Lyric finally moved, pressing her hands flat against the table as if grounding herself.

  The weight of Cassandra’s words lingered between them, heavy with the unspoken realization—this wasn’t just a lesson.

  She moved on, circling Solrion before adding:

  Emberwrought. Aetherbound.

  “Solrion’s dangers are well-documented. The Emberwrought wield flames that grow stronger the more fire they consume, turning battlefields into infernos.” Her voice remained steady as she pointed to the next name.

  “Then there are the Aetherbound. They manipulate time and space, bending reality, distorting perception. A single misstep, and you could be lost in an illusion of an alternate world.”

  Aiden shifted in his seat, his jaw tightening. “And Pyrranis?”

  Cassandra wrote two more names beneath its title. Ashwalkers. Veilstorms.

  She turned to face them, her expression unreadable. “Pyrranis is a land of endless firestorms and volcanic ruin. The Ashwalkers—” her voice sharpened slightly “—we’ve fought them before. But there are whispers of something worse. The Veilstorms. Creatures that summon raging tempests, warping the battlefield into a whirlwind of chaos.”

  Across the table, Alice broke the silence. Without looking up, she asked, “And Thalassara?”

  Cassandra nodded, turning back to the board. The marker glided across the surface, leaving behind bold letters: Soulweavers. Abyssborn.

  She set the marker down, her gaze sweeping over the group before she spoke. "Thalassara is a realm of endless seas and shifting tides. The Soulweavers don’t just control water—they weave the essence of life and death itself. They can ensnare souls, bind them, turn them into weapons."

  Her voice held an edge of warning as she tapped the next name. "And the Abyssborn… demons that rise from the ocean depths. No one knows their true form—only the shapes they take when they emerge. Some are serpentine horrors that coil around ships and drag them under. Others walk on land, cloaked in shadows and mist, their voices like whispers in a storm. They don’t just kill. They consume—mind, body, and soul."

  The room fell into a heavy silence. Thorne exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “Great. So we’re dealing with soul-stealers and eldritch sea demons now.”

  Cassandra didn’t acknowledge the comment, instead stepping back to take in the board. "These are the five realms we know. And even then, this list barely scratches the surface. There are creatures—whole species—we have yet to identify."

  Thorne's frown deepened. "So even with what we do know, we’re still going in blind?"

  Cassandra met his gaze. "Not blind. Just... aware of how little we truly understand."

  Aiden leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the table. “What if we run into something we’ve never seen before? How do we fight it?”

  Cassandra met his gaze, her tone steady. “By sharpening your instincts. Raw strength won’t save you. You need to read the battlefield, anticipate, adapt. And most importantly—trust each other. Hesitation will cost you.”

  Elias, who had been quiet until now, straightened in his chair. “Then we don’t hesitate. We stay sharp, we stay ready. No matter what comes.”

  Alice nodded, her fingers tightening around the book. “And we watch each other’s backs.”

  A small smile touched Cassandra’s lips, but it faded quickly. She turned back to the board, her expression unreadable as she underlined the last two names—Aeridorn and Terranova. For the first time, she hesitated before writing. Then, with deliberate strokes, she added a single word beneath each: Unknown.

  She closed the marker and turned to them, her voice quieter now. “This is where things get complicated.” Tapping the names with its capped end, she continued, “There has never been an attack from either realm. No records. No warnings. No messengers. Nothing.”

  Lyric glanced at the others, her voice barely above a whisper. “So if they do attack, we won’t be ready for it.”

  Cassandra nodded. “Exactly. We know of dangerous creatures from the other realms—beasts we can study, threats we can anticipate. But with these two? We don’t even have a sliver of understanding. And that’s what makes it dangerous.””

  A heavy silence settled over the room, pressing down like an unseen weight.

  Elias exhaled slowly before speaking. “Then we do whatever it takes to be ready.”

  Thorne leaned forward, his fingers curling into fists against the table. “How? We don’t even know what we’re up against. How do you prepare for something you can’t even define?”

  Aiden’s jaw tightened. “So what, we just sit here and do nothing?”

  Thorne met Aiden’s glare head-on, his voice edged with challenge. “Then go ahead—tell us how we’re supposed to prepare for something we don’t even have a clue about.”

  Elias raised a hand before the argument could escalate. “Enough. We’re all worried, but turning on each other isn’t going to help. We need solutions, not fights.”

  Cassandra watched the exchange, then nodded approvingly. "Elias is right. Uncertainty doesn’t mean helplessness. We focus on what we can control—our training, our teamwork, our strategy. We don’t know if the attack will come from the five realms we’re familiar with or the two we know nothing about. But either way, it’s coming. The only question is whether we’ll be ready when it does.”

  Alice tapped a finger against her book. “Then let’s start now. We might not have answers about those two realms, but we do have information on the ones we have faced. If we analyze what we know, maybe we’ll find patterns, weaknesses—anything that gives us an edge.”

  Cassandra’s gaze swept across the group, her eyes glinting with quiet approval. “That’s a solid plan, Alice. While we can’t reach the other realms without their consent, we can break down what we’ve encountered. Even the smallest clue might be the key.”

  Thorne’s fingers curled against the edge of the table, his brows drawn in a tight line. “But what if we’ve already missed something crucial?” His voice carried a weight that settled over the room like a thick mist. “We don’t know anything about Aeridorn and Terranova—what if their magic follows rules we don’t even understand?”

  Aiden’s jaw tightened. Fenrik stirred within him, a steady pulse of instinct threading through his thoughts.

  He’s right. You cannot prepare for what you do not know.

  Aiden’s fingers tapped against the table, his rhythm measured, thoughtful. And that’s what worries me most.

  Then focus on what you do understand. Fenrik’s presence pressed against his mind, not demanding, but firm. And when the unknown comes, trust your instincts. Trust your team.

  Aiden exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening. His eyes flickered to his companions—Lyric, deep in thought; Elias, hands clasped, listening intently; Alice, already calculating possibilities. Thorne, scowling but engaged.

  “We can’t predict what’s coming,” Aiden said finally, straightening. “But we can make sure we’re ready for anything. Instead of just countering specific threats, we should focus on adaptability—reflexes, awareness, the way we fight together as a unit.”

  Lyric nodded slowly, her fingertips tracing the grain of the table. “That makes sense. If we’re dealing with Gloomshapers, for example, they rely on illusions, on fear. We should train to resist those effects.”

  Illusions can be deadly. It's crucial to train your minds as much as your bodies. Pyrix's voice rumbled in Thorne's mind, his fiery essence thrumming beneath Thorne's skin.

  Thorne clenched his jaw slightly. You think I don't know that? If I can't even master my own form, how am I supposed to counter something I can't even see?

  Because power isn’t just what burns inside you. Pyrix’s voice was patient, unyielding. It’s how you wield it. How you think. How you stand when strength alone is not enough.

  Thorne exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he processed Pyrix's words. Finally, he spoke, his voice more certain. "Lyric's right. We need to be ready for mind games, not just brute force. If we can't see through illusions, we're as good as dead."

  Cassandra smiled at their growing engagement. "Exactly. That's why your coordination is most important when facing unknown threats. Even if you don't know what's coming, you'll have the strength of your team to rely on, and together, you can confront any challenge."

  Elias raised his hand slightly, his expression firm. “You’re right. We can’t just rely on individual skills. If we’re going to face threats we don’t fully understand, we need to trust each other, anticipate each other’s moves, and fight as one.”

  "Absolutely," Cassandra replied. "We can create trials that strengthen your bond and enhance your ability to support one another in battle. That way, when the time comes, you'll be ready to adapt to any situation."

  Aiden nodded, his previous tension fading. "That sounds like the best approach. We can't afford to hesitate when the time comes. If we know how to move together, then no matter what we face, we won't be caught off guard."

  Alice glanced at Thorne, a smile creeping onto her face. "And maybe we can throw in some friendly competitions? It'll be fun and keep us sharp."

  Thorne smirked. "As long as you don't cry when I win, Alice."

  "Dream on," she shot back playfully, her laughter lightening the mood.

  Cassandra chuckled, enjoying the camaraderie. "I think we've found our focus. We'll base our training on the threats we know, honing our skills and teamwork to prepare for whatever challenges come our way. Now, let's make a plan to tackle these elements systematically."

  As they continued discussing their strategies, a shift settled over the room—not sudden or obvious, but steady and real. Aiden felt Fenrik's presence strengthen within him, bolstering his resolve, while Thorne could sense Pyrix's fire igniting his determination. It was a quiet but powerful reminder—they were not alone in this fight.

  For so long, each of them had walked their own paths, burdened by expectations, doubts, and the weight of being seen as lesser. But here, in this moment, things were beginning to change.

  They weren't just speaking—they were listening. Not out of obligation, but because they valued each other's insights. Elias wasn't overshadowed here; his words weren't dismissed. Lyric wasn't just the fae girl who had lost everything—she was strategizing, contributing, and being heard. Alice, so used to being an outsider, wasn't standing on the edges of the conversation but right in the center of it. Thorne wasn't the weak link—he was adapting, responding instinctively.

  And Aiden, always fighting to prove his worth, realized something unfamiliar but undeniable: trust.

  They weren't a perfect unit, not yet. There were still barriers between them—walls built by years of isolation and expectation. But cracks were forming in those walls. With each exchange, each moment of understanding, they were learning.

  Slowly, they were walking the path from being chosen ones to becoming protectors.

  But that path was long and treacherous, filled with obstacles they had yet to face. The doubts of their people, the mysteries of the unknown realms, the looming threats waiting beyond the horizon—none of it had disappeared.

  Yet, for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.

  They weren't just thrown together by fate.

  Piece by piece, they were becoming something more.

  A team.

  Companions.