THE NAME THAT SHOULD NOT BE SPOKEN

Seraphine's hands trembled as she ran her fingers over the worn leather of her mother's journal. The inked letters of the last entry seemed to pulse with something alive, as if her mother's final words were whispering through time itself.

"The Seal does not just hold the Harbinger. It holds something worse."

She swallowed hard, the weight of those words pressing against her ribs.

Something worse than the Harbinger?

That wasn't possible. The Harbinger was a force beyond comprehension—a being whose whispers alone could shatter minds. If there was something greater, something more terrifying lurking within the Seal—

Then everything they knew was a lie.

Caius exhaled sharply beside her, his fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword. "That's not exactly comforting."

Seraphine forced herself to steady her breathing. "We need to read more. There might be something in here that tells us what it is."

She flipped through the pages, scanning the entries. Her mother's elegant script filled the journal, detailing spells, ancient warnings, and fragmented myths about the First Seal.

Then, in the middle of a page, a phrase caught her eye.

A name.

"Vael'thiran."

The moment her gaze landed on it, a sharp pain lanced through her skull.

Seraphine gasped, staggering back as an unseen force ripped through her mind. The room shuddered, the torches flickering violently. The very air around them seemed to ripple, as if reality itself was recoiling.

Caius was at her side in an instant, gripping her shoulders. "Seraphine!"

Her vision blurred. She felt something press against the edges of her mind—a dark presence, like fingers trailing against her thoughts.

And then—

A whisper.

You should not have spoken that name.

Seraphine's breath caught in her throat.

It wasn't just in her head.

Caius heard it too.

His sword was out in an instant, his eyes darting around the chamber. "Tell me that was just your imagination."

Seraphine's pulse thundered. "It wasn't."

The air grew cold.

A sound, soft and wrong, filled the room—like stone grinding against stone, like a breathless voice struggling to exist.

Seraphine barely had time to react before shadows coiled at the edges of the chamber.

And then—

The torches went out.

---

The Thing in the Dark

The chamber was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Seraphine's breathing hitched. She could hear movement. Something shifting against the stone floor, slow and deliberate.

A presence loomed just beyond her sight, vast and unfathomable, like a shadow pressing against the corners of her mind.

Then—

A voice.

"You were never meant to know."

It wasn't human.

It was ancient, layered with something inhuman and formless.

Seraphine's grip tightened around her dagger, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs. "Who are you?"

Silence.

Then—

"We remember you."

Her blood ran cold.

Not her.

Her bloodline.

Caius moved closer, his voice sharp. "Show yourself."

The shadows shifted.

And then, something stepped forward.

A figure emerged from the darkness, its form indistinct. It wasn't solid, but neither was it entirely shadow. Its shape twisted, flickering between a robed silhouette and something far less human.

Its face—or lack of one—was the worst part.

It had no eyes, no mouth. Only a void.

And yet, it was watching them.

Seraphine's grip on her dagger tightened. "What do you want?"

The thing tilted its head, the motion unnatural.

"I have already waited too long."

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

The thing took another step forward—and Seraphine's instincts screamed at her to move.

She lunged.

Her dagger slashed through the figure—

And passed through nothing.

Caius cursed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. "Bad idea."

Seraphine barely had time to register what had happened before the thing moved.

A wave of cold rushed over them, and suddenly—

Seraphine wasn't in the chamber anymore.

---

The Void Between Worlds

The world around her was gone.

She stood in emptiness, a vast expanse of shifting, colorless shadows. There was no sky, no ground—just a nothingness that stretched infinitely in all directions.

And she was not alone.

The figure loomed before her, still shifting, still watching.

Seraphine forced her voice to remain steady. "What are you?"

A long silence.

Then—

"I am what they buried."

Seraphine swallowed. "Buried where?"

The figure's form flickered, twisting between solid and formless.

"Within the Seal."

Seraphine's breath caught.

No.

That wasn't possible.

The Seal had been made to imprison the Harbinger. There wasn't supposed to be anything else.

But the figure continued.

"You think you know what your mother protected."****"But you do not know the cost."

Seraphine's heart pounded. "Then tell me."

The figure tilted its head again.

Then, for the first time, she heard something different in its voice.

A whisper of sorrow.

"The Harbinger was the first mistake."

A pause.

"I was the second."

The words slammed into her like a physical force.

Seraphine staggered, the weight of their meaning crashing over her.

Her mind raced.

The Seal had held the Harbinger for centuries, preventing its influence from seeping into the world. But if this thing—this Vael'thiran—had also been trapped inside…

Then what did that mean?

Before she could speak, the world lurched.

The darkness around her shattered, and—

---

Return to the Keep

Seraphine gasped, stumbling forward as she was thrown back into the chamber. The torches flared to life once more, casting flickering golden light across the stone walls.

Caius caught her, his expression tight. "What the hell just happened?"

Seraphine's breaths came fast and uneven. "I—I saw it."

Caius's jaw clenched. "Saw what?"

She swallowed hard. "The other prisoner."

He went still.

Seraphine turned, her fingers curling around the edges of the journal.

Her mother had tried to warn her.

The Harbinger was not the only threat.

And now, something else was stirring.

Something the world had already forgotten.

But it hadn't forgotten her.

And it was waiting.