Prologue

Bel glanced down at the book in her hands, a gift from her late master. Despite the significance of the moment, her years of studying and researching finally paying off-she couldn't summon the joy she thought she should feel. The death of her master hung heavy over what should have been a celebration.

She wasn't sad, nor happy, just empty, as though she was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing. Each step she took echoed through the quiet hallway, her mind as still as a calm lake. Her golden eyes were fixed ahead, unwavering, her face betraying no emotion-neither a smile nor a frown. She walked past the towering white marble walls of the tower, the place that had been her home for so long, where she had learned magic, where her master had taught her the depths of arcane knowledge.

Her short auburn hair brushed her face as she stepped into the morning air. The breeze felt familiar, yet foreign, as though it belonged to another time, another life. The tower was silent now, and she was alone, but it didn't bother her. The vast library and her master's collection of books were enough to keep her occupied-though she had read nearly all of them. She had studied everything from the basics to the most advanced magic, and yet, her hunger for knowledge still gnawed at her. She wanted to experience it all, to create magic herself. Her ambition burned brightly, and it was this very drive that had caught her master's eye the day she was found.

She remembered that day like it had just happened. The day her master had found her.

"The color of your eyes is like the mighty dragons', yet dull and empty. Do you wish to live, child?" The hooded figure spoke gently, kneeling before her, her teal eyes glinting with the knowledge of the universe.

At the time, Bel, the malnourished wolf child, was too weak to answer. Her hunger was unbearable, all-consuming. She could think of nothing but food.

"But to live, you must follow me... until the day I journey to the unknown," the stranger continued, pulling back her hood to reveal her face.

Bel's eyes locked onto the woman before her. She was no ordinary being-her features were unlike anything Bel had ever known. She lacked the ears and tail of Bel's kind. Her eyes, crystal-clear, sparkled with an almost magical glow, shifting in colors like the precious stones her family mined. Strange markings adorned her head, symbols Bel couldn't understand, though something about them felt familiar and mysterious. And yet, despite the strangeness of the woman, Bel didn't feel fear. Her starvation felt far more dangerous than following this stranger, especially if it meant the chance of food.

The stranger chuckled softly, and the intricate markings on her head seemed to dance with her every movement. "Your determination to live, despite your many wounds-both fresh and old-is remarkable, little wolf. Here, take my hand." She extended her palm toward Bel.

With a strained groan, Bel attempted to push herself up from the filthy ground where she had been abandoned. The stench of animal waste and urine clung to every corner of the dark alley. This was where she had been left by the very people she and her family had served. Born as a slave, raised as a slave, and destined to die as one. She was so emaciated that even the chains on her ankles had fallen off on their own. It took great effort, but finally, the frail girl weakly reached out and took the stranger's hand.

As soon as their hands met, the strange markings on the woman's head began to shift, moving down to her neck, to her arms, and finally, to the palm that held Bel's hand. The markings, like wriggling worms, glowed with a soft golden light. Bel was too weak to pull away, her dull eyes watching the markings as they slithered from the stranger's hand into hers. To her surprise, it didn't hurt. In fact, it felt light and warm, almost as though the markings were returning the strength that hunger had drained from her.

"Very well, wolf child," the stranger said, helping Bel to her feet. "Tell me, what is your name?"

Bel looked up at the figure holding her hand, and for a moment, nothing had changed. The markings had returned to the stranger's forehead as if they had never moved. Bel, now feeling the return of her strength, stood up, a bit embarrassed by the state of her ragged clothes and the dirt that clung to her skin, especially in contrast to the stranger's pristine cloak.

"I am Bel," she answered quietly.