The mark burned again.
Arin clenched his fist, jaw tight as the black ink on his forearm pulsed beneath his skin. The raven's wings spread wider, its eyes glowing faintly like embers.
Liora watched him from across the room, worry etched into her face. "It's changing again, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Third time this week."
They stood in the hidden wing beneath the Academy a place so ancient it predated the library that had burned. Only those marked by the old bloodlines could open its sealed stone doors.
Which was why Arin had been able to walk in... and none of the professors could.
The whispers had started two nights ago. Faint at first. Then louder. A chorus of voices that came from the mark on his arm and echoed through the tunnels. They called his name. They knew his name.
And they kept repeating a single word:
"Vault."
Liora opened the old journal they'd rescued from the fire. "The Vault of Whispers. It's mentioned here, buried in an old prophecy about the Fall of the First Spellcasters. It says, 'When the Raven returns, the Vault will open. Secrets will stir, and the sealed past shall bleed.'"
Arin stepped closer. "That's not a prophecy. That's a warning."
The mark flared again, and something in the room clicked.
A wall of runes began to glow a doorway hidden in the stone. Slowly, the seal unlocked itself.
Liora gasped. "You opened it."
"I didn't do anything," Arin said, voice hushed. "The mark did."
They exchanged a glance, then stepped through the threshold.
Inside was darkness. Deep and absolute.
But it wasn't empty.
As they entered, hundreds of suspended scrolls and tomes floated midair, bound by silver chains. At the very center, an enormous stone pedestal rose from the floor. Resting atop it was a black feather. Just one.
And next to it, a name etched in runes.
Arin Veyr.
His breath caught in his throat.
"How…?" Liora whispered.
He stepped forward slowly, pulse racing. As he neared the feather, the mark on his arm flared so hot it seared. But he didn't back away. He reached for the feather.
The moment his fingers touched it, the chamber reacted.
Scrolls flew open. Chains snapped. And the room echoed with voices not whispers now, but screams. Hundreds, maybe thousands, overlapping in agony and rage.
Liora grabbed his arm. "We need to leave!"
But Arin stood frozen.
Images poured into his mind visions from another lifetime. A massive black castle. A raven-winged army. Spells of blood and shadow. And himself... standing at the center of it all, wearing a crown of obsidian flame.
He staggered back, gasping.
Liora caught him. "What did you see?"
He looked at her, pale. "A war. One that's happened before... and is coming again."
That night, Arin couldn't sleep. The feather he'd taken sat on his desk, now encased in a protective ward. It hummed softly with restrained power.
Everything had changed.
He wasn't just marked.
He was chosen.
But for what?
A knock at the door broke the silence. Liora stepped in, holding an envelope. "You got summoned. By the Headmistress."
Arin frowned. "Now?"
"She says it's urgent."
In the Headmistress's chamber, the room was silent except for the ticking of a massive timepiece. Avareth stood by the fire, arms folded.
"You found the Vault," she said, not turning around.
Arin tensed. "How do you know?"
She turned slowly, her eyes older than he remembered. "Because I helped seal it... over a hundred years ago."
Liora gasped. Arin blinked. "That's impossible."
Avareth gave a bitter smile. "Nothing is impossible in magic, child. Especially not when you're trying to bury the sins of the past."
She walked toward Arin, gaze heavy. "That mark on your arm? It's not a curse. It's a key. One that opens doors best left closed."
Arin's voice shook. "Then why did it choose me?"
"Because the Raven Blood runs through your veins," she said softly. "You are the last of the Bloodbound. The only one who can stop what's coming."
Arin swallowed hard. "And what's coming?"
She turned back to the fire. "The return of the first spellcaster... the Raven King himself."
Liora whispered, "I thought he was a myth."
Avareth looked at them both. "He was. Until now."