The town of Berrow looked harmless from the ridge. Just another patchwork of stone cottages, crooked roofs, and a marketplace that smelled of smoke and bread.
But danger didn't always wear armor.
Kael was the first to speak. "If anyone recognizes us, we run. No second thoughts."
Miri pulled up the hood of her faded cloak. "Let's just get supplies and go."
Eren said nothing. He was trying to act like this was normal. Like walking into a town with a bounty on your head was just another errand.
They split up at the market, weaving through the crowd. Eren passed stalls selling dried herbs, cracked glass trinkets, even spell-ward charms—which was ironic, considering his magic still pulsed beneath his skin like a warning drum.
Lyra disappeared into the crowd, as easily as shadow slipping into shadow. Eren kept her in sight until a flash of color caught his eye—wanted posters.
His face. Miri's. Even Kael, years younger in the sketch, but still recognizable. They weren't just fugitives now. They were hunted.
He ducked his head and kept walking.
At the butcher's stall, Miri was arguing over the price of salted meat. She didn't even flinch when a pair of guards walked by, silver crests gleaming on their shoulders.
Kael stood by the blacksmith's, arms crossed, watching everything.
Lyra returned with a satchel full of stolen goods and no apology in her eyes. "We have ten minutes. There's a merchant I know—might have information about the Library. But he won't talk if we look scared."
Eren exhaled, steadying his breath. "We don't look scared."
Lyra smirked. "You look like you might throw up."
She wasn't wrong.
But they moved anyway—through smoke, through whispers, through a world where one wrong glance could mean death.
And in that tense, ordinary chaos of a marketplace, the group didn't just steal food.
They stole time. Information. A moment of humanity in a world that wanted them erased.
For a little while, that had to be enough.
——-
The vision didn't come in a dream. It came in the stillness—after the fire had burned low, after Lyra's snores faded, and Miri's quiet breathing steadied the night.
Eren sat awake, hands open near the dying embers, trying to warm himself. His magic had been quiet all day—too quiet. A part of him feared it was gone. Another part feared it was waiting.
The flickering light shifted, and the shadows changed.
He blinked.
The fire was no longer a fire. It was a doorway.
He didn't walk through it. He fell.
—
Stone halls. The sound of a storm pounding ancient glass.
Eren stood in a throne room lit by floating flame. Banners rippled, though no wind touched them. Twelve figures circled him—cloaked in armor, light, and shadow. Faces hidden, but their presence undeniable.
One stepped forward. Her eyes burned like coals, but her voice was warm, human.
"You carry our blood."
Eren tried to speak, but the air pulled the words from his throat.
"We were called Spellbound long before the name became a curse."
Visions flared around him—kingdoms rising, then burning. Children born in secret. Magic sealed in stones, in songs, in skin.
"You are not the first to run."
A man with his eyes—a younger face—stood defiant before a blade.
A woman knelt over a battlefield, hands glowing as she wept.
Another burned alive without screaming.
Eren's knees hit the ground. "Why me?" he managed.
The woman leaned closer, her breath like wind through trees.
"Because you're the first to ask."
—
He woke gasping, the fire cold, his hands glowing faintly blue.
Miri stirred, half-asleep. "Nightmare?"
Eren looked at his hands. "I don't think so."
He didn't tell them what he saw.
Not yet.
But when he stood the next morning, there was a calm in him that hadn't been there before. A thread of strength, fragile but real..
Not just magic. Memory.
And maybe, a reason to fight.
——
The town square was alive with paper lanterns and music, the kind of festival that made even the hunted feel like they belonged - if only for a night.
Lyra had a peach in one hand, a dagger hidden in the other. Miri walked beside her with a careful eye, counting guards like breathing. Eren smiled, just for a moment, until he saw the shimmer of something wrong. A glint too polished in the crowd. A figure that moved just like shadow, too smooth, too quiet.
Kael saw it too.
"Keep walking," he murmured, hand already on his sword. "We're not alone."
They slipped into a side alley, but the assassin was already there - waiting. His cloak bore no crest, but his blade spoke for him: royal, poisoned, and personal.
"You've made it farther than most," the man said calmly. "But this is the end of your little rebellion."
Lyra reacted first - throwing the peach, of all things. It burst against his chest with a splat of juice and pit. Just enough to blind him for half a breath.
Kael lunged. Steel clashed in the shadows. Sparks lit the alley.
Eren tried to help, but his magic misfired - heat cracking the stones instead of aiming true. Miri yanked him back, shielding him with her body as Kael fought.
The assassin was faster.
Too fast.
Until Miri, in a move none of them saw coming, threw a vial of blinding powder in his eyes. "Run!" she yelled.
They ran.
Through kitchens and cellars, over walls and under fences. The city became a maze of smoke and curses. Eren's lungs burned, Lyra swore in three languages, and Kael bled from a cut that should've been fatal - but wasn't.
When they finally stopped, hearts pounding in the shelter of an old bell tower, no one spoke.
Then Kael, grinning through the blood on his teeth, muttered, "That peach was the best part."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "You're welcome."
Eren looked at them - these strangers who now risked everything for each other.
They were still breathing.
For now, that was enough..
——
They didn't speak much as they crossed into the deadlands.
The trees had long since withered, their bark grey and curling like parchment. The air felt too still, as if the world was holding its breath. Even the wind - always loud, always moving - was quiet here.
Eren walked ahead, the map gripped tight in his hand. It pulsed faintly now, as if it could feel how close they were.
Lyra kept glancing back. "Feels like we're being watched."
"We are," Miri said softly. "By ghosts, or worse."
Kael didn't laugh. He usually would've by now. Instead, his hand rested on his sword like it belonged there - like he knew it wouldn't be enough.
Then, just past a ridge of broken stone, it appeared.
Not a building.
A ruin. A scar.
The Forbidden Library rose like bones from the earth - half-buried arches, walls scrawled with words no one remembered how to read. Vines strangled the upper floors, but the magic was still alive. It hummed through the ground, through their bones..
Eren stared, mouth dry. "It's real."
Lyra whistled low. "You owe me a drink, Kael."
"I'll owe you two if we get out alive."
They set up camp beneath what used to be a scholar's tower, the stones still warm with spells long dead. Miri traced one of the carvings with her fingers. "This place… it's not just knowledge. It's memory."
Night fell slow and heavy. They took turns keeping watch, but none of them really slept.
Because tomorrow, they would go inside.
And nothing would stay the same.
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