Far from the quiet fields of Elaren and the laughter of the Nightveil family, the world stirred.
Above the northern peaks of the Varran Mountains, the sky flickered for only a moment.
But it was enough.
A tear. A ripple. A wound in the world.
Unseen by the common folk, unnoticed by most nations—but to those who watched the edges of fate, it was deafening.
---
In the capital of the Elven Dominion, high within the crystalline spires of Lys'thalor, the Eternal Seer dropped her glass orb. It shattered, spraying starlight mist across the marble floor.
Her attendants rushed in, but she had already fallen to her knees, eyes wide with horror.
> "The seal… is weakening."
---
Elsewhere, in the floating sanctum of Aetherion, the Archsage of the Drakonids raised his eyes from the ancient tapestry.
He hadn't moved in days.
Now, he stood.
> "The fracture has begun," he whispered. "Summon the Concord."
---
The Concord Council – A Rare Gathering
The Concord Council had not convened in twelve years.
But when the seal between realms quivered, the Seven Races took no chances.
They gathered—not in person, for their presence would shake the world—but as astral projections above the World Mirror, deep in the ruins of the Old Empire.
Seven figures formed a ring of power.
Each cloaked in illusion, veiled in magic, yet radiating strength beyond comprehension.
> "The seal is unraveling. Who dares tamper with it?"
The voice belonged to Sovren Calzeth, Sovereign of the Drakonids—his eyes like molten gold.
Across from him, High Matron Iryalis of the Elves lowered her hood.
> "No one dared. That's the problem. This is no spell. This is fate."
A silence followed.
Then, a deeper voice—slow, rumbling.
> "It cannot be fate. The World Seal was forged by all of us. Even Time weaves through it."
The speaker was Gravok the Stonekeeper, ruler of the Titans.
But Iryalis shook her head.
> "Not all threads obey time."
> "Something… or someone… has returned."
---
The Human Seat – A Shadowed Voice
One chair, dimly lit, flickered with unstable light.
There sat Lord Caelan Virelios, humanity's only Sovereign.
Tall, robed in shadowed silver, his voice calm.
> "My people are too weak to disturb such forces."
> "But if something did return… it would not come through the strongest. It would hide in the smallest crack. In a place no one watches."
Could such a being slip into the world… unseen?
> "You think a soul crossed the seal?" Calzeth asked.
> "I don't think," Caelan replied. "I know the feeling of war drums in my blood. And they've begun to hum again."
---
Far away, deep beneath the ocean trenches, a being long slumbering stirred in the Abyss.
Its eye opened.
A single whisper echoed from the darkness.
> "He has returned."
---
End of Chapter 6