The first time Elara heard the name "Crimson Moons," she thought it was poetic—a name perhaps borrowed from some ancient tale of gods and monsters. But as she stood now at the edge of the Basin of Arkyn, gazing up at the twin moons bathing the obsidian cliffs in blood-red light, she realized the truth was far more unsettling.
"They're watching," Kain whispered beside her. "Always watching when the veil is thinnest."
Elara turned her head slowly, her breath catching in the air. "The veil?"
Kain didn't respond immediately. He crouched, running his fingers over the moss-covered stones beneath their feet. His expression was unreadable, as if calculating something she couldn't see.
"This realm," he finally said, "is stitched together by layers. Threads of time, memory, emotion. The veil separates those layers. And on nights like these, when both moons bleed over the land… that barrier thins."
Elara felt a shiver run through her spine. The magic in the air was palpable. She'd felt it hours earlier, like static pressing against her skin. But now, with the moons high above, it became something else—almost sentient. Like the realm was awakening.
They had arrived at the Basin in search of the second Echo Fragment, guided by the inscriptions left in the Temple of Glass. The map etched into her mind—gifted by the portal's awakening—had led them here, though none of them understood why the ancient relic would be buried in such a haunted place.
"Do you think it's underground?" Elara asked, stepping carefully along the edge of the craggy slope. The basin stretched like a wound into the earth, the rocks black and jagged, almost as if melted and reformed by some infernal heat.
"Not underground," said a voice behind her.
It was Serin, the half-blood scribe. She was leaning against a petrified tree, her long hair tied back in a braid, her eyes glowing faintly from the enchantments that protected her vision.
"Then where?" Elara asked.
Serin pointed upward.
And Elara saw it.
Suspended in midair, caught between the pull of gravity and some ancient, unbreakable magic, hovered a ruin. It wasn't large—perhaps the size of a cathedral—but it floated, impossibly, above the center of the basin. And inscribed along its bottom were runes that pulsed with crimson light, matching the hue of the moons.
"The Shattered Sanctum," Serin murmured. "Where the Echo sleeps."
A gust of wind howled through the basin, cold and dry, carrying whispers that didn't belong to this time.
"We're not alone," Kain growled, his hand already at the hilt of his blade.
Elara saw them then—figures, slowly forming at the edges of the basin. Shadows with human silhouettes, but no features. They emerged from cracks in the stone, from behind trees, crawling from beneath moss-covered boulders. The Whisperborn.
"They're drawn to the Echo," Serin said grimly. "To any magic that once resonated with the Ascendants."
"And us?" Elara asked.
"They can smell your bond to the portal," Serin answered, already drawing a circle of protection in the dirt. "They will come for you first."
Elara's heartbeat quickened. Her grip tightened on the staff she'd received in Velmare Hollow—its crystals already glowing faintly in warning. The air shifted again, and a high-pitched hum filled her ears.
Then the first shadow attacked.
It darted forward, faster than any human could move, its limbs writhing like smoke. Kain met it head-on, his blade igniting in silver fire as he slashed through the darkness. The creature screamed—a piercing sound like glass fracturing.
But more followed.
Serin cast her circle just in time, and Elara felt the protective ward snap into place. A dome of blue light surrounded them, holding the Whisperborn at bay—for now.
"We need to reach the sanctum," Elara said, watching as the creatures circled, searching for a break in the barrier.
"And how do you propose we fly?" Kain shouted, parrying another slash that reached too close to the barrier's edge.
"I don't know!" she admitted. "But the Echo is calling. I can feel it. We can't just wait here."
Serin's fingers moved quickly as she summoned runes in the air. "There's a way," she said, her voice strained. "But it requires blood."
"What kind of blood?" Kain growled.
"Yours," Serin said simply. "Yours and hers. You're both bound to the portal—opposites in the weave. That balance could give us enough force to bridge the sanctum."
Kain cursed under his breath but nodded. "Do it."
Serin sliced a shallow cut across his palm, then did the same to Elara's. The moment their blood hit the basin stones, the runes on the floating sanctum flared with sudden intensity.
The earth trembled.
A surge of power erupted from beneath them, lifting the protective dome and launching it skyward. The Whisperborn screamed in fury as the group ascended, rising toward the sanctum in a pillar of glowing blue flame.
Elara's stomach flipped. The wind rushed past her face. Her heart pounded like a war drum.
And then they landed.
The moment their feet touched the ancient stones of the Shattered Sanctum, the flames vanished.
Everything was silent.
Elara looked around. The interior of the sanctum was breathtaking. Vines of silver crystal grew through the cracks of the stone floor. Floating orbs of light hovered in the air, pulsing softly with rhythm. The roof was half-collapsed, revealing the twin moons above, and at the center of the room stood a pedestal.
And upon that pedestal, a mirror.
It shimmered, not with reflection, but with possibility.
"The Echo," Serin whispered reverently. "One of the seven."
Kain stepped forward first, his eyes narrowed. "Then why is it whole?"
Serin frowned. "It's not. Look closer."
Elara stepped up beside him and peered into the mirror.
Her reflection stared back—except it wasn't her. This version of her was clad in dark armor, eyes glowing gold, hair braided like a queen's. And behind her stood legions.
The image flickered.
Now it showed a burning city.
Then a cradle.
Then a blade piercing a king's heart.
Then nothing.
She staggered back, gasping. "What… was that?"
"The Echo of Fate," Serin said. "It doesn't show what will happen. Only what might. The deepest seeds of your potential, both light and dark."
Kain reached toward the mirror, but before he could touch it, the sanctum rumbled.
From the shadows of the room, a shape emerged.
A woman—no, something more.
Her body was formed of dark glass and silver fire, her eyes voids. And from her back, black wings unfurled.
"You have come far, Echobound," she said, voice like thunder wrapped in silk. "But you trespass on sacred ground."
Elara stood tall. "Who are you?"
The figure smiled. "I am one of the Seven. The last guardian of the shattered truths. And I will test your worth."
She raised her hand—and the sanctum exploded in light.