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Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: A Blade in the Library

!The next morning, the sky broke open with sleet and steel-colored wind. Storms in the empire meant only one thing: magic was shifting.

I had barely slept since the Vault. Every word the prisoner had said Seraphina Dorne, reborn blood, find the gate that bleeds echoed in my head like a war drum.

So I did what I always did when the world became too much.

I hid in the library.

The Academy's Athenaeum tower stretched eight stories tall, with bookcases carved from starwood, ladders that floated of their own accord, and a scent of dust and old ink that I found oddly comforting.

Only a few students studied here before dawn. It was quiet. Safe.

I was wrong.

The book I needed was old Runes of Resurrection: Forbidden Lines of Time. It wasn't supposed to be available to third division students.

So I climbed.

Up three floors. Past a locked gate. Into the restricted wing. I traced a cloaking rune along my wrist and stepped into the aisle.

And then I heard the footsteps.

Too soft. Too controlled.

I reached for the book but the air shifted.

Magic surged.

A bolt of crackling black energy flew past my head and scorched the edge of the shelves. I ducked, rolled behind a bookcase, heart pounding.

A figure stepped into view.

Tall. Hooded. Masked.

"I knew you'd come," the figure said, voice distorted by magic. "Reborns are always drawn to the truth."

I stood slowly. "You're not a student."

"No." The masked figure raised a blade made of rune-carved obsidian. "And you're not just a girl."

Another bolt of magic flew this one aimed directly at my chest.

I didn't think. I reacted.

The rune on my collarbone flared hot and white and the air shattered around me in golden threads. The attack dispersed mid-air. I summoned a shield sigil and hurled it forward, knocking the masked attacker back.

But they were faster.

The obsidian blade whirled through the air and grazed my side pain blooming across my ribs.

I stumbled.

The attacker leapt forward

And was suddenly slammed into the wall by a blast of raw wind.

Kael stood behind me, sword drawn, eyes glowing violet.

The masked assassin snarled, flicked their hand and vanished in a ripple of smoke and shadow.

Gone.

Kael dropped his sword and caught me as I staggered.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine," I gritted. "Just a scratch."

He peeled back my sleeve and froze.

The rune on my skin was still glowing.

Golden and bright and pulsing like a living star.

He looked at me, jaw tight. "They were after you."

"Because of this," I said, pressing a hand over the mark. "Because I'm not just a Spellweaver. I'm something else."

"I know."

I blinked. "You what?"

He looked away. "I remembered something. After the masquerade. It came in flashes your voice, your eyes, your death."

My breath caught. "You remember the other timeline."

He nodded slowly.

"I don't know how or why, but yes. I watched you die. And I hated myself for it."

His hands curled into fists. "I won't let it happen again."

The emotion in his voice it wasn't just guilt. It was a promise.

Maybe even… love?

I swallowed hard. "Then help me find the Gate. The one that bleeds. That's where the answers are."

He stared at me a long moment, then said softly: "Then we start now."

Before we could leave the restricted section, I returned to the shelf.

The book Runes of Resurrection was gone.

Vanished.

Not stolen by chance. Taken on purpose.

Someone else knew what I was trying to learn.

Someone who had a head start.

Someone who wanted the Gate before me.

I felt it deep in my bones

This isn't just a story about power anymore. It's a race.

And I'd already lost the first piece.

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