Elara stumbled backward as a rift tore open in the Veil, right between her and the Sealed Court envoy. From its center emerged a shadow—a being of warped bone and ember eyes. The air twisted around it like a flame without fire.
Vessara shouted, "That's not one of ours!"
The creature turned its gaze to Elara.
Moon-bride, it whispered, a thousand voices speaking at once. You wear the seal of the Forsaken Line.
Elara's blood turned to ice. "What… are you?"
But the being didn't answer. Instead, it raised its hand—and the Veil cracked.
Reality flickered. Elara saw images flash before her eyes: a tower in ruins, Aldric bleeding at its base, a throne split in two, her blade piercing someone's chest—her own?
She screamed.
The glyph on her chest flared. A protective shield of lunar energy burst forth, sending the creature staggering.
Vessara acted quickly, casting a warding rune that closed the rift. The beast shrieked and vanished.
Silence returned.
Elara collapsed, panting. Vessara approached, her smugness gone.
"That wasn't a demon," she said. "That was a Herald. Something older than the Courts."
"You mean it was coming for me?" Elara whispered.
"No," Vessara said grimly. "It was coming for us all."