A shimmer of light, followed by a faint hum, filled the air around the box. Queen Asha's regal, yet concerned, face materialized within the confines of the polished wood.
"Callie, what is it?" Asha's voice was calm, but a flicker of unease danced in her eyes.
"Your Majesty," Callie began, her voice steady, "I have just received a disturbing report from the Oracle Temple. An attendant claims that oracles from every nation in Lore are currently entranced. Their eyes are glowing white, and they're all chanting the same phrase in an otherworldly voice: 'She has noticed, she sees.'"
Asha's expression tightened, her brows knitting together in worry. "Entranced? And all chanting that... alarming. I confess, Callie, I'm unsure how best to proceed with something of this nature." She paused, a thoughtful gaze fixed on Callie. "Would you be willing to contact Headmaster Leonardo at the Scholarik Noctis? See what his take on this situation is. His wisdom, despite his disposition, is often invaluable."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Callie replied, already reaching for the box again. The image of Asha faded, replaced by the soft glow of the activation light.
Callie made the call. A moment later, the stern, whiskered face of Headmaster Leonardo, a wise but notoriously rude Owlkin, appeared in the box. His sharp, intelligent eyes fixed on Callie, already impatient.
"Magistrate," Leonardo grunted, his voice a gravelly rasp. "To what do I owe this untimely disturbance?"
Callie quickly relayed the attendant's report, describing the glowing eyes and the chilling, unified chant. Leonardo listened, his expression unreadable, until Callie finished.
"Hmph. Worrying, indeed," Leonardo finally rasped, a feather on his head twitching. "This harkens back to a rather... unsettling incident a few weeks ago. One of my own faculty, a Nightingale-kin named Elara, stumbled upon something. She exhibited similar symptoms – glowing eyes, a jumbled, disjointed version of what you describe. As far as I know, she was on her way to Nan-du-Tua, seeking an audience with Queen Asha. She believed it involved... Nott."
At the mention of Nott's name, Callie's breath hitched. A cold dread, far deeper than before, settled in her stomach. She knew. She knew the young Wolfkin girl had saved the world during the war. If Nott, the one who had literally held the fate of Lore in her hands, was connected to this, then this situation wasn't just disturbing; it was likely far bigger, far more perilous, than initially thought.
The communication box on Callie's desk in Petaorins flickered, and Headmaster Leonardo's image vanished. Callie was left alone in her chambers, the chilling implications of his words about Nott sinking in. The young wolfkin had saved the world during the war; if she was connected to this, then the situation was undeniably vast and perilous.
Just as Callie was processing this, the ornate wooden box shimmered back to life. Queen Asha’s face reappeared within its confines, her features now etched with a deeper, more profound concern. "Callie," Asha said, her voice taut with urgency, "Leonardo's revelation changes things considerably. Nott is here, in the palace, visiting Savine's triplets with her newly found half-sister. Given what you've just told me, and Leonardo's reference to Elara's prior incident with Nott, I need to speak with her immediately."
Asha's brow furrowed, a mix of apprehension and decisive royal authority in her eyes. "This feels… pre-ordained. Too precise. Too universal. I don't like it. I will summon Nott to the throne room at once. You are to remain in Petaorins, Callie, and continue monitoring the situation there. Ensure the temple remains secured, but undisturbed. We need more information before we act."
A short while later, in the grand throne room in Nan-du-Tua, the heavy doors swung open. Nott entered, her human-like hair slightly disheveled as if she’d been roused from a quiet moment, her wolf ears twitching and her tail sweeping gently behind her. Beside her walked her newly found half-sister, a strong, watchful presence. Nott’s gaze, usually so knowing, held a hint of confusion as she took in Asha’s grave expression. She was clearly unaware of the strange events unfolding at the Oracle Temple, or their potential meaning.
"Your Majesty," Nott said, bowing respectfully, her eyes questioning.
Asha rose from her throne, her voice solemn and grave. "Nott, thank you for coming quickly. We have an urgent matter, one that Headmaster Leonardo believes may concern you. There's been an incident at the Oracle Temple. All the oracles of Lore are entranced, chanting a very specific phrase: 'She has noticed, she sees.'"
Nott's wolf ears swiveled, processing the information. The chant itself meant nothing to her, nor did she recognize anything about the current events with the oracles. However, the description of the entranced state, combined with the mention of Leonardo's concern and the name, triggered a different, unsettling memory. "Elara," Nott murmured, her brow furrowing in recognition. "Headmaster Leonardo mentioned Elara? She was... she was the Nightingale-kin who helped me. After the memory haint attack, ten years ago, after my mind was… jumbled. She helped piece it back together. Is she involved in this?"
The question hung in the air. For Asha, it solidified a terrifying suspicion: this was indeed far bigger than anyone could have initially imagined. The threads of the present crisis were now undeniably connected to Nott's own traumatic past.
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The cramped cabin of the Sunstone was dimly lit by a single swaying lantern, casting long, dancing shadows on the wooden walls. Elara stirred, a low groan escaping her lips. Her head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, as if a flock of startled birds were trapped within her skull. Her eyelids felt heavy, glued shut, but she forced them open, blinking against the soft light.
Disorientation washed over her. The rocking motion beneath her, the salty tang in the air – she was on the Sunstone, that much she knew. But the last few days were a hazy, indistinct blur. She couldn't grasp what had happened, only a lingering sense of unease clung to the edges of her awareness.
A soft whimper drew her attention. Hunched beside her cot, his tiny form radiating worry, was Kallen. Her young Hummingbird-kin student’s iridescent feathers looked dull with exhaustion. Beside him sat a battered wooden bucket and a damp rag. Elara watched, a wave of tenderness washing over her, as Kallen gently dabbed the rag across her forehead. He had been tending to her.
"Kallen?" Elara's voice was raspy, unfamiliar.
Kallen’s small, bright eyes widened with relief. He straightened up, his wings fluttering weakly. "Elara! You're awake!" Tears welled in his eyes, and he sniffled, trying to contain his emotion. "It's been… it's been five days."
Five days? Elara's mind struggled to comprehend the passage of time. "Five days? What happened?" Her voice was still weak, laced with confusion.
Kallen wrung the damp rag in his small hands. "You… you just collapsed, Elara. On the deck. Your eyes… they went all white and glowy. Like the moonstone in the captain's amulet. And you started saying… things. Strange things."
Elara frowned, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. White eyes? Strange words? Nothing came. But for the first time in what felt like weeks, the oppressive fog that had clouded her thoughts had lifted. Her mind felt clear, sharp, even amidst the throbbing pain in her head.
"What did I say, Kallen?" she asked, her voice gaining a little strength.
"It was just one sentence," Kallen whispered, his voice filled with a childlike awe and a touch of lingering fear. "'She has noticed, she sees.'" He repeated the phrase, his small voice echoing the unsettling cadence Elara vaguely recalled from the edge of her unconsciousness. "You kept saying it, over and over. Until you just… went still."
He looked at her, his gaze earnest. "I didn't know what to do. Captain Theron… he said it was some kind of trance. He’s been worried too. We’ve just been keeping you… you know… hydrated." Kallen gestured to the bucket and rag.
Elara reached a hand out, her fingers brushing against Kallen's soft feathers. "You took care of me, little one," she said, a warmth spreading through her chest despite the 8lingering confusion. "Thank you."
Kallen managed a weak smile. "Captain Theron says we'll be docking soon," he added, his tone shifting slightly. "He said we're arriving in Nan-du-Tua. He wants to get you to proper help as soon as we land."
Nan-du-Tua. The name resonated with a deep, urgent familiarity. Elara’s gaze sharpened. This was her destination, the culmination of weeks of travel, driven by a gnawing revelation about ancient religious dogma and the ominous whispers of a potential cosmic threat. She had come here to find Nott.
Whatever had happened on the deck, whatever strange trance had gripped her, it had taken five days of her journey and stolen precious time. Her head still throbbed, but the clarity of her mind felt like a precious gift. She needed to understand what "she has noticed, she sees" meant, and how this sudden, universal trance might be connected to the very cosmic threat she had sailed across the world to investigate. Her mission had just become far more immediate.
It had been a decade since Vesper, the primordial of death, had last set foot in Varashroova. Ten years, a fleeting whisper in the span of his endless existence, yet long enough for change to etch itself onto the wolfkin capital. He arrived not with a thunderous descent or a dramatic ripple in reality, but as a subtle shift in the air, a colder shadow stretching just a little too long in the afternoon sun.
He felt the familiar thrum, the gentle insistence of a life nearing its close. To him, "nearing" could be a day, a month, or even a turn of the seasons—a slow unspooling of a thread before he clipped it clean. This particular thread, however, was vibrant, significant—a life of consequence.
Varashroova spread before him, a testament to wolfkin tenacity and artistry. The architecture was a symphony of carved timber and sturdy stone, strikingly akin to the ancient mountain folk in its design. Statues of the Nightwolf, his elder sister, were everywhere. She was worshipped here, not with the fervent, all-consuming devotion reserved for their mother, Emma, the very concept of creation, but with a deep, abiding respect. Vesper recognized his sister in the fierce, stylized carvings on the great hall, the watchful gaze of her wolfen form etched into the sides of the impressive silver mines that ringed the city.
He drifted through the city, his form unseen by the bustling wolfkin, his presence a shiver down their spines they couldn't quite name. He saw the intricate details of their craft, the way their lives revolved around the rhythm of the hunt and the strength of their pack. But it was the new construction that truly caught his attention. Freshly quarried stone, still pale against the older, weathered blocks, indicated significant expansion. His last visit had been marked by the culmination of a great, terrible magic—when a young wolfkin girl, Nott, had brought down the mad fae queen, Nyx, and almost, almost, came with him. He remembered the almost-decision in her eyes, the tantalizing brush with a soul poised on the brink of profound rest.
He walked past the newly built barracks, larger and more imposing than anything he recalled. The scent of fresh-hewn wood and hammered metal filled the air, mingling with the earthy musk of the wolfkin themselves. Varashroova was growing, solidifying its place in the world. And somewhere within its heart, a life of great importance was preparing to join the countless others he had guided to their ultimate peace. The pull was stronger now, a magnetic north to his eternal compass. It was time to fulfill his purpose.
Vesper's instincts, honed over countless ages, drew him toward a warm glow emanating from a tavern nestled amidst Varashroova's sturdy buildings. A voice, clear and resonant, poured out into the fading light, singing tales of daring deeds and legendary heroes. This was the source of the significant life-thread, the vibrant hum he'd felt. But as he stood just outside, a shadow among shadows, he knew it wasn't yet time for this soul to join the countless others he'd guided. This was merely an introduction, a moment to observe before the long unspooling truly began. The beautiful singing continued, a melodic current pulling him in.