As Raine leaves Theo’s shop, the night air is heavy, her thoughts still tangled in the cryptic kindness of the shopkeeper. She almost forgets that she's still in danger. She almost doesn’t notice the dark-cloaked figures stepping out of the shadows until their leader calls her name.

  “Raine Solara,” the voice is cold, measured, unmistakably authoritative. “You will surrender to the Order of the Thirteenth Veil. You must know that your continued defiance only strengthens our resolve.”

  Raine turns to face them, her heart pounding. The leader, flanked by two others, carries the unmistakable insignia of the Veil—a symbol of chains forming a circle, meant to represent dominion over chaos. He's a mage, probably a fire mage by the look of him. The other two are just thugs, but one has a gun and the other has a knife.

  The leader's voice drops. “You cannot escape us. Even here, in the depths of this town, the Hierarchy’s protections will not save you. Come quietly, or you’ll leave us no choice.”

  Raine’s hand tightens around the edges of her cloak, her thoughts racing. There’re too many of them. She feels the smooth metal of the ring against her finger and catches a faint sensation—a whisper, like a breeze brushing her ear. Her rising panic suddenly ebbs and a single word echoes in her mind, foreign and unfamiliar but instinctively understandable: “Aelionis.”

  Her lips move unconsciously before she fully processes it. “Aelionis,” she says aloud, and the world shifts.

  In an instant, Raine is no longer standing in the darkened street. Instead, she is transported into a vast expanse of swirling silver and pale blue winds, a realm suspended between sky and ether. Wisps of wind curl around her like sentient threads, lifting her hair and cloak as if weighing her worth.

  A towering storm spirit appears before her, its form both ethereal and commanding. It does not speak with words but through sensation - pulses of emotion and insight that she feels in her bones. She senses its message:

  “You are the eye of your own storm. The winds that batter you are the winds that drive you forward. The lightning that strikes tears down what cannot stand - but what remains stands strong. Embrace the tempest - for you are the howling of the Sacred Wind”

  She feels the wind rushing through her, filling her lungs, strengthening her limbs, tearing down and rebuilding her very soul. She feels lighter, stronger - like she’s dissolving into nothingness and reforming into something greater.

  Raine gasps as the street snaps back into focus. The figures of the Veil agents stand frozen, their weapons half-drawn, their expressions confused. But Raine feels different. The air itself seems to hum around her, alive and responsive to her thoughts.

  The leader snarls and signals the attack. But as they lunge, Raine raises her hand, and the wind answers her command. A cyclone whirls to life around her, blasting them back into the walls with a force that leaves no room for retaliation. Did I do that? How am I this strong?

  One agent struggles to rise, but Raine sends a razor-thin gust of wind that slices his 9mm, and the person standing behind it, clean in two. The message is clear: she is no longer the prey they thought she was.

  The dust settles and the fight is over almost before it began. Raine glances at the ring, its etched patterns glowing faintly. In the stillness, she remembers Theo’s parting words - what she now remembers as his gentle, almost fatherly encouragement “If you ever need to catch your breath again, please remember us here at 9th Street Curios and Sundry.”

  For the first time, she understands what he meant. Theo didn’t just give her a trinket; he gave her the means to surpass her limits, to think beyond the boundaries of the Celestial Hierarchy and to embrace her true power. She had always been a promising wind mage - but not like this. But how could he have known what she was? Wind mages don’t even exist in the minds of most people. How could he have realized so easily - and manifest such a power so casually, with such nonchalance? Who was that man? How does he know about me? How much does he know about the Hierarchy?

  Raine stands a moment longer, her heart steady now, questions reeling in her mind. Theo’s shopkeeper facade has crumbled in her memory, replaced by the image of someone far more powerful and deliberate - a figure who is somehow shaping her destiny from the shadows.

  But now isn’t the time for that. The corpses of assassins lay scattered like discarded puppets on the street, their dark cloaks torn and bloodied. The battle had been brief, violent, and utterly destructive. But at least she was still alive. Now came the tricky part - cleaning up. It was late and the street was empty. Despite the violence, the battle hadn't created a lot of noise. She's safe, for now.

  Raine knelt beside the nearest body, her hand brushing over the fabric of the assassin's uniform. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled a thin shard of enchanted steel from the man's belt and slipped it into her pocket. She knew the Order's tricks and had been around long enough to recognize a magical trap when she saw one. You aren't going to fool me that easily. She rose to her feet, her raven hair catching the faint light of the streetlamp above, and looked down at the carnage.

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  Closing her eyes, Raine extended her hands, her fingers curling as if she were cradling an invisible sphere. The air around her stirred, growing denser, tighter, as if the atmosphere itself was bending to her will. A low hum filled the alley as a vortex began to form, swirling with increasing intensity. Dust, leaves, and loose debris were sucked into the growing whirlwind, obscuring the scene in a curtain of motion.

  With a sharp gesture, Raine directed the vortex toward the first body. The lifeless figure rose slowly, weightless within the confines of the swirling wind. One by one, she repeated the process, guiding the assassins’ remains into the vortex. The sight was eerie, even to her - limbs dangling like macabre marionettes caught in an unseen current. She honestly never thought it would work – but, as unnerving and disgusting as it was - she was making it happen.

  Once all the bodies were secured within the swirling column, Raine turned toward the mouth of the alley. She extended her hand forward, and the vortex obeyed, floating silently down the deserted street like a ghostly procession. A trio of lifeless bodies moving in a slow dance supported by nothing but air. Raine followed close behind, concentrating on her magic while her sharp eyes searched for any witnesses. Fortunately, the hour was late, and the city’s streets were deserted, save for the distant sound of a passing car or the faint bark of a dog. Still, she kept her movements precise, her steps silent.

  The safehouse wasn’t far. It was a nondescript building tucked between an abandoned factory and a row of boarded-up storefronts. The kind of place people passed without a second glance. Raine reached the side entrance, a rusted metal door concealed by a sagging awning. She tapped three times on the door, paused, then tapped twice more. The sound echoed faintly in the quiet night.

  The door creaked open, revealing a narrow corridor lit by a single flickering bulb. Raine guided the vortex inside, her expression tired yet determined as the swirling wind carried its grim cargo past her. The hallway smelled of damp concrete and old paint, a scent that Raine found oddly comforting after her ordeal.

  She entered the main room, a spacious area cluttered with mismatched furniture and equipment. A man with dark, sharp features and a cigarette dangling from his lips looked up from a desk piled high with papers. His name was Linus, he lived in the safehouse year-round, making it appear like a normal residence. When things got messy, it was nice to have Linus on your side.

  “Damn! Look at this – someone’s been busy,” Linus drawled, exhaling a plume of smoke as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes flicked to the vortex, now gently depositing the bodies onto a plastic-lined table in the center of the room. He seemed curious, but unconcerned, "Where'd you find these guys?"

  "I was attacked," Raine replied, letting the vortex dissipate with a wave of her hand. The air stilled, and the room fell silent once more. "I need you right now, Linus. Help me get this handled."

  Linus smirked, stubbing out his cigarette in a chipped ashtray. “You know me. Always happy to help."

  Raine nodded, her gaze lingering on the bodies for a moment before she turned to leave. She paused at the door, her hand resting on the frame.

  “And Linus?” she said without looking back.

  “Yeah?”

  “Make sure they can’t be traced to me. Whoever sent them is going to be looking for answers.”

  Linus’s grin widened, and he gave her a mock salute. “Consider it done, Princess. But you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Raine frowned, brushing a lock of raven-streaked hair from her face as she stepped back into the room. “Explain what, exactly?” she replied, her voice steady but guarded.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Linus began, pacing slowly around the room. “Perhaps how you managed to take down an entire squad from the Order of the Thirteenth Veil - on your own.” His tone was measured, but his eyes betrayed his disbelief. “Last I checked, you weren’t exactly their match in raw power. Who else is involved with this?"

  She bristled at his words, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t underestimate me, Linus. I didn’t need raw power. I used my wits and my wind. That’s all.”

  “Your wits,” he scoffed, letting the word hang in the air. He stopped pacing and turned to face her fully. “Raine, these Thirteenth Veil guys don't play games and they don’t fail. And yet here you are, standing without a scratch, and they’re…” he gestured to the pile of bodies at the center of the room, “Well, they’re very much dead. Call me curious.”

  Raine sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Look, I don’t owe you a full play-by-play, but I’ve been preparing for this moment. I knew they were hunting me and I was ready for them. I’ve been training a lot lately, you’ll see soon enough”

  Linus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Even so, this level of precision… You’re holding something back. Who are you protecting?”

  Raine hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything, to unload the weight of the encounter, but she knew the dangers of revealing too much. “Let’s just say the wind was at my back,” she said finally, her voice softer but firm. “And leave it at that.”

  Linus stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But you should know, Raine, if you’ve gotten yourself involved in some type of black magic…”

  “It’s nothing like that and I can handle it on my own,” she cut him off, her voice sharp. “I don’t need you worrying about me. I’ve got this.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just don’t expect me to clean up your messes when this all blows up in your face.” He glanced back at the bodies. “Speaking of which, are you calling the cleaners, or am I?”

  “I Just put in the request,” she replied, stepping toward the center of the room where a faint glimmer of magic was beginning to take shape—a sigil etched in the air, glowing faintly with energy. “They’ll be here soon enough. And Linus?”

  He turned back to her, arching an eyebrow.

  “Thanks for the concern,” she said, her voice tinged with a rare hint of warmth.

  Linus chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t mention it.” And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Raine alone with the weight of her secrets and the bodies of her would-be assassins.