The Sanctuary's stone corridors echoed with hurried footsteps and anxious whispers. The scent of damp earth and burning sage hung heavy in the air, but nothing could mask the copper tang of fear that had settled over the witches. Elara pressed herself against the cool wall, listening as Mira and Rowan debated strategy with the other elders. Lucien lingered nearby, his presence drawing wary glances from every corner.
Elara's mind spun with questions. Who had been killed by the river? Was it truly Dorian's doing, or something even darker? She longed to slip away, to find quiet and clarity, but she knew there would be no rest tonight.
Aunt Mira approached, her expression grim. "We'll need you at the council, Elara. You saw the ley lines. You felt the shift."
Elara nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. "I'll come. But first, I need to see the body."
Mira hesitated. "That's not wise. It's… not something you can unsee."
"I have to," Elara insisted. "If there's a magical signature, I'll sense it."
Mira relented, leading Elara and Lucien through a maze of tunnels until they emerged in a small chamber lit by flickering lanterns. The sentry's body lay on a stone slab, pale and still, two puncture wounds marring his throat. Elara's heart squeezed. She recognized him-a young witch named Silas, barely older than herself. He'd always smiled at her in the market.
She reached out, trembling, and brushed her fingers near the wounds. The air shimmered with residual magic-cold, predatory, and unmistakably vampiric. But beneath it, she sensed something else: a pulse of wild, chaotic energy, as if the killer had tried to mask their work with a spell gone awry.
Lucien stepped closer, his jaw tight. "This isn't one of mine. The bite is too rough. And that magic… it's not vampire work."
Elara nodded, her mind racing. "Someone's trying to frame the vampires. Or… something else is hunting in Ashenfall."
A chill ran down her spine. She forced herself to focus, whispering a spell to reveal hidden traces. For a moment, the room filled with a faint blue glow, and a sigil shimmered above Silas's chest-a mark she'd seen only once before, in an old grimoire: the sign of a blood pact.
She drew back, shaken. "This is worse than we thought. Dorian's not just breaking the truce-he's making pacts with something ancient."
Mira's face paled. "We need to warn the council."
As they returned to the main chamber, Elara's thoughts churned. She remembered her mother's stories of the old days, when witches and vampires had fought side by side against darker things that lurked in the city's depths. She'd always thought those tales were just that-stories. Now, as she glanced at Lucien, she wondered if history was repeating itself.
The council assembled, voices rising in fear and anger. Some demanded retaliation against the vampires; others called for the Sanctuary to be sealed. Rowan's voice cut through the chaos. "We cannot afford division. Not now. Elara, what did you find?"
She stepped forward, voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Silas was killed by a vampire, but the attack was masked with wild magic. And there was a sigil-a blood pact, old and powerful. Dorian isn't working alone."
The room fell silent. Lucien spoke, his tone urgent. "If Dorian is making pacts with forbidden forces, none of us are safe. We need to find out who-or what-he's allied with."
Aunt Mira's gaze softened, pride and worry mingling in her eyes. "Elara, you've done enough for tonight. Rest, if you can."
But Elara knew sleep would not come. As the council argued late into the night, she slipped away to the Sanctuary's rooftop garden. The rain had finally eased, leaving the city glistening beneath a bruised purple sky. She stared out over Ashenfall, heart heavy with dread and determination.
Somewhere out there, Dorian was gathering his forces. Somewhere, ancient magic was waking. And somewhere deep inside, Elara felt a spark of something fierce-a resolve to fight, no matter the cost.
The city's church bells tolled midnight, echoing through the fog. Elara closed her eyes, letting the sound settle her nerves. Tomorrow, she would begin her search for answers. Tonight, she would remember Silas, and promise herself that she would not let Ashenfall fall into darkness.