After saying their goodbyes to Elias and Vera, Finn made a quick stop to buy a protein bar despite having devoured a triple-stack of pancakes at breakfast, prompting Kael and Maia to give him a knowing look, to which he simply shrugged before unwrapping it with an exaggerated flourish, declaring, "I'm a growing man," before tossing the bar between his hands like a football as he leaned back into his seat.

The ride back to the palace was quieter than before, the hum of Kael's red Lexus blending into the soft beats of music playing through the speakers, a steady rhythm that did little to ease the lingering tension pressing against his thoughts. His grip remained firm on the wheel, eyes locked on the winding roads ahead, watching as golden morning light spilled across the rolling landscape, bathing everything in a warm glow that should have been comforting, yet failed to dissolve the unease still clinging to his chest like smoke, refusing to fade.

In the passenger seat, Maia absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, her fingers flicking across the screen in practiced motions, though her gaze held none of its usual sharpness as she glanced between messages, notifications, and the passing scenery outside her window. Evermere carried on as if it were any other day, its citizens moving about their lives, their laughter and conversations filling the air, but the trio knew better, knew that beneath the surface, something had already begun to shift, something they couldn't yet name, something they couldn't yet say.

Finn, sprawled in the backseat with his usual ease, lazily tossed the protein bar between his hands, a motion that would have seemed effortless had it not been for the weight in his expression, the same unspoken feeling hanging over all of them since they had read the message.

Come back to the palace immediately. – Mom & Dad.

No explanation, no details, just a command laced with urgency that twisted in Kael's gut, a silent confirmation of the tension that had already been building throughout the morning, one that settled between them now, thick and unshaken.

Finn exhaled through his nose, finally breaking the silence that had stretched between them since they left the café. "So, any guesses on what's waiting for us?"

Maia locked her phone and leaned her elbow against the window, resting her chin in her palm as she let out a slow breath before saying, "If I had to guess, another conversation about our training, another vague reassurance that we're doing fine but that we need to prepare, another half-truth wrapped in concern and carefully chosen words, because even though we've proven ourselves time and time again, they still won't tell us the full truth, not yet, not until they think we're ready, and who knows when that's going to be." Though her tone was casual, the underlying frustration in her voice was unmistakable, woven into every syllable.

Kael exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. "Maybe. Or maybe it's worse."

Finn let out a short laugh, though there was little amusement behind it. "You always assume the worst-case scenario, man."

Kael didn't look away from the road, jaw tightening. "Because worst-case scenarios keep happening."

As they neared the palace gates, the familiar towering spires of Astridale came into view, rising high above the city with their polished stone and golden accents gleaming beneath the morning sun, a sight that should have been as reassuring as it was familiar, yet something about it felt different today, something just beneath the surface, something Kael couldn't quite put into words.

The moment they pulled into the palace's winding driveway, the unease he had been trying to suppress sharpened into something colder, heavier, more distinct, something that settled low in his stomach, something that told him they were walking into something bigger than they had anticipated.

Guards stood at new posts—ones that hadn't been assigned before, their stances stiff, their gazes sharper, more alert, their movements precise and methodical, as though they had been instructed to watch rather than simply protect. At first glance, nothing seemed outright wrong, yet the palace itself felt different, as though it were holding its breath, waiting for something unseen.

Maia noticed it instantly, her gaze sweeping over the subtle changes before murmuring, "More guards than usual."

Finn leaned forward from the backseat, his brows pulling together as he glanced between the stationed soldiers. "Yeah, and look at their placements. It's not random; they've been reassigned, positioned closer to the entrances, watching key points instead of their usual rounds."

Kael's sharp eyes took in every detail, from the increased patrols near the outer walls to the lack of idle chatter among the guards, their silence stretching over the grounds like an invisible thread pulling everything just a little too tight. His stomach twisted, because this wasn't normal, this wasn't how things were supposed to be, and if no one had said anything, then it meant they weren't supposed to know.

He pulled the car into his usual spot, turning off the engine with slow precision before stepping out, the tension in the air thickening the moment his boots hit the ground. Staff members moved faster than usual, their footsteps hurried, their conversations hushed, their glances fleeting yet telling as they carried out their tasks with an urgency that wasn't normally present.

Some threw quick looks their way before lowering their heads, hurrying off as if they didn't want to be caught lingering.

Kael shared a glance with Maia and Finn.

They all felt it.

Something was wrong.

The grand halls of the palace were eerily quiet, save for the distant murmur of conversations behind closed doors, a stark contrast to the usual rhythmic energy that pulsed through these corridors, a seamless blend of movement and grace, of nature intertwined with marble and gold. Today, however, everything felt still, as if the very walls had become sentient, as if they too had sensed something creeping in from the shadows.

As they made their way down the corridor, their steps light against the polished floors, the weight of unspoken questions settled heavily between them, each of them waiting, listening, anticipating something that had yet to reveal itself.

At the grand entryway, they were met by Minister Aldric, their father's most trusted advisor, a man whose calm, measured presence had always been a constant in their lives, his words carefully chosen, his expressions rarely betraying his thoughts.

But today, his composure was fraying at the edges, the lines of his face drawn tighter than usual, his eyes carrying something Kael rarely saw in him.

Worry.

"Minister Aldric," Kael greeted, keeping his voice steady, watching him carefully. "What's going on?"

Aldric hesitated, just for a second, but Kael caught it, the brief flicker of uncertainty, the way he carefully arranged his words before speaking.

"Nothing to concern yourselves with, Your Highnesses," he finally said, managing a polite smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Your parents are waiting in the throne room. They will explain everything."

Maia crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Explain what, exactly? Because as far as I can tell, everyone here is acting strange, and I doubt it's because of a late shipment of imported tea."

Aldric inclined his head slightly. "It would be best if you heard it from them."

Kael didn't press further. There was no point. Aldric had already decided not to say anything more.

"Let's go," Kael muttered, turning toward the throne room, his heart pounding a little harder with every step.

Because whatever awaited them beyond those doors—

It wasn't going to be good.

The heavy doors of the throne room loomed before them, their intricate carvings depicting stories of Astridale's past, of kings and queens who had ruled with wisdom and warriors who had defended the land from unseen evils. Normally, such grandeur felt like a reminder of their legacy, of the weight they carried as heirs to a forgotten war, but today, it felt different. The air around them was too still, the silence pressing against their skin like a phantom presence, as if the very walls were listening.

Kael stepped forward first, pushing open the doors, the deep creak echoing through the vast chamber. Sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, casting fractured patterns of gold, green, and blue across the polished marble floors, illuminating the room in a warmth that failed to dispel the tension clinging to the air.

At the far end of the chamber, their parents sat on their thrones, regal yet visibly burdened. King Arion, ever composed, sat with his hands clasped before him, his expression unreadable, while Queen Lira, poised yet uncharacteristically distant, traced the delicate filigree of the armrest with her fingertips, her thoughts seemingly elsewhere. Surrounding them, the council members sat in a semi-circle, their hushed conversations falling into immediate silence the moment the trio entered.

Kael, Maia, and Finn exchanged glances.

This wasn't just a debrief.

This was something bigger.

Queen Lira was the first to break the silence, her voice smooth yet carrying an unfamiliar edge. "Thank you for coming."

Finn, ever the first to break tension, arched a brow, crossing his arms as he leaned slightly toward the table. "Okay, seriously, what's going on? The moment we walked in, the entire room went silent, the guards outside looked like they were preparing for battle, and my parents have been cryptic through text all morning. So either we're about to get the most serious 'how's training going' talk of our lives, or something is very, very wrong."

King Arion exhaled, sitting forward, his gaze steady but grim. "There have been disturbances... near the borders."

A pause.

Then Maia spoke first. "What kind of disturbances?"

Silence stretched between them before their mother finally answered.

"Shadows."

Kael felt the word settle into the air, pressing against his chest like a warning. He had suspected it all along, had felt the shift in the air, had seen the way the palace staff moved as though something unseen lurked just beyond the walls, but now that it had been spoken aloud, it carried an undeniable weight, one that sent a chill curling down his spine.

Queen Lira continued, her voice quieter now. "Villages disappearing overnight. People vanishing. There have been sightings of dark figures moving just beyond our lands." She hesitated, glancing toward the king before speaking again. "And last night, a patrol encountered something near the outer watchtowers."

Kael's pulse quickened. "What did they see?"

His father's expression darkened.

"A Grimshroud."

The air in the room changed.

A ripple of unease spread through the gathered council, some shifting in their seats while others exchanged glances, their worry palpable.

Maia inhaled sharply. Finn tensed beside her. Kael felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.

Grimshrouds. A name from legends, a nightmare from history books, a story whispered to children to remind them of a darkness long banished.

But it hadn't been banished.

It had only been waiting.

Kael clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "Is that why you told us to hold back? We can fight. We should fight."

Lady Irina, one of the senior council members, was the first to respond, her tone laced with authority. "That's what we thought too. Until one of our own nearly died facing it."

Her words landed heavily in the room, their impact immediate.

Kael stared at her, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. "What happened?"

"The patrol was small," King Arion said, his voice level but strained. "Four soldiers. Trained men, skilled in their elemental abilities, some among the best. Yet when they encountered the Grimshroud, only one of them returned."

Finn ran a hand through his hair. "And the other three?"

The king's jaw tightened.

"They vanished."

The weight of his father's words settled in the room like a storm cloud.

Maia exhaled, running her fingers through her dark waves, her mind visibly working through the implications. "So, what are you saying? That these things are more powerful than before? That we're not strong enough to fight them?"

Kael hated the way those words sounded, but even more than that, he hated the way his mother nodded.

Queen Lira's gaze was sharp yet pleading. "You are not ready."

Kael's fists clenched tighter. "We were chosen for this. We are Light Guardians—"

"You are not trained enough to fight them!" his mother snapped, her voice sharper than it had been before, startling the room into silence.

Kael barely flinched, though something inside him burned at the words. He wasn't angry at them—he was angry at the helplessness curling at his edges, at the feeling that no matter how hard they had trained, no matter how many years they had spent preparing for this, it still wasn't enough.

His father's voice softened. "We're sending you away."

That stopped him cold.

"What?" Maia's voice was quiet, like she wasn't sure she had heard correctly.

King Arion's gaze remained firm. "You need time. Time to train. Time to prepare. You are powerful, but you need guidance, and most of all, you have yet to unlock your light abilities. Without them, you are fighting in the dark."

Kael stared at them, his mind racing. "But Father, we can't just sit there and have citizens die."

Aldric, who had remained silent until now, finally stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "What other choice do you have? Tell me, Kael, what do you expect to do?"

The words settled over them, final and inescapable.

Kael exhaled, shaking with unspoken frustration, because for the first time in his life, he knew—

They were running out of time.

The silence in the throne room was suffocating, pressing in from all sides like an unseen force weighing down on every breath, every movement, every unspoken thought. It wasn't just the council's hushed murmurs or the way the golden sunlight streaming through the windows felt dimmer, but the realization settling in like stone in their chests—the realization that they were being told to walk away, to step back, to abandon everything they had trained for.

Kael clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as frustration burned beneath his skin. "I still refuse to go." His voice was steady, but beneath it lay a simmering anger, one that threatened to crack through his restraint.

King Arion exhaled, rubbing his temples before straightening in his seat, his expression firm yet exhausted. "Kael, please don't make this more difficult than it already is," he said, his tone measured. "This is only temporary."

Kael's laugh was humorless, sharp. "Temporary? That's what you're calling this?" He shook his head, his eyes burning as he glanced between his parents. "We trained for years—we prepared for this moment, and now you're sending us away like we're not strong enough to fight. This—" He gestured to the council, to the hushed, uncertain faces watching them. "This feels like we're abandoning our people."

Maia stepped forward, her voice just as firm, just as sharp. "And what happens while we're gone? How many more villages vanish overnight? How many more people die before you decide we're 'ready'?"

"You aren't abandoning them at all," King Arion countered, his voice calm but carrying the weight of finality. "But if we let you fight now, and you lose—then what? What happens when the only three people with the power to stop this darkness fall before they even understand their own strength?"

Kael could feel the weight of the council's stares pressing into his skin, could hear the unspoken doubts lingering between the flickering torchlight and the cold marble floors, could taste the frustration curling at the back of his throat as he forced himself to swallow down the words he wanted to say.

It wasn't fair.

They had trained for this. They had spent years preparing for the inevitable, pushing their elemental abilities to the limits, sharpening their reflexes, honing their minds to face whatever darkness came their way. And yet, in the moment they were supposed to step forward and take their place as Light Guardians, they were being told to step back.

Finn, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, so let me get this straight," he said, his usual easygoing tone absent. "You're telling us that Grimshrouds—actual, real Grimshrouds—have reappeared. People are vanishing, entire villages are being swallowed by shadows, and instead of fighting back, we're supposed to pack up and—what? Go on some kind of training retreat?"

Lady Irina's gaze flickered toward Finn, unimpressed. "This is not a negotiation, Your Highness," she said, her voice smooth yet firm. "Your abilities are formidable, but even the greatest warriors in history had mentors to guide them. In case you haven't noticed, there is no one alive who has experience training Light Guardians. The ones who came before you had mentors—people who helped them unlock their light abilities and master the Celestial Blades. You, on the other hand, have none. Without a mentor, you are liabilities, not protectors."

Maia let out a scoff under her breath, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Right. Because sitting around while people die is so much more useful."

"Enough," King Arion said, his voice cutting through the conversation like a blade, steady but firm. His gaze softened slightly, though the weight of his words did not lessen. "I understand your frustration. If we could afford to let you fight, we would. But this is not a battle you can win—not yet."

Kael's pulse pounded in his ears, a slow, rhythmic drumbeat of anger and disbelief. "You keep saying that," he said, his voice lower now, measured but carrying an edge. "But how much longer are we supposed to wait? How much more training do you expect us to do before you finally decide we're ready? Because last I checked, Grimshrouds aren't waiting for us to be conveniently prepared before they strike."

Queen Lira's gaze met his, something unreadable flickering in the depths of her eyes before she spoke. "Kael," she said gently, her tone softer than before, "we are not asking you to stand by and do nothing. We are asking you to trust that the only way to survive this war is to be ready before you fight it."

Kael felt Maia tense beside him, her nails digging into her arms where she had crossed them. He could hear Finn shift his weight, exhaling sharply through his nose, but neither of them spoke. They didn't need to.

They all knew the truth.

They didn't have a choice.

King Arion nodded toward Aldric, who stepped forward, his usual unreadable expression remaining intact. "Your Highnesses, you leave at first light tomorrow. The portal will take you to a secure location where, for now, your priority is to blend in with their society. If you find clues on a potential mentor, pursue them. Otherwise, remain hidden."

Kael's jaw clenched. Well, that's helpful. What were they supposed to do—stumble across a mentor by sheer luck? Did they even think this through? Had they even considered things like where they would stay, how they would survive in a world that didn't even know their kingdom existed?

Maia's lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. "And where exactly are we going?"

Aldric hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but Kael caught it. "Eirenthal," he finally said.

The room fell still.

Kael's jaw tightened. "Eirenthal," he echoed, the name settling like ice in his bones. "A kingdom that doesn't even know we exist."

Finn let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Great. So not only are we being sent away, but we're also being hidden?"

"It is not hiding," Aldric corrected smoothly. "It is strategy. No one in Eirenthal knows of Astridale or Lumira. There, you will be unknown. You will not be hunted. You will be free to train without prying eyes."

Maia arched a brow. "And how exactly are we supposed to blend in? You do realize we don't exactly look like commoners, right? Not to mention, I've read Eirenthal's history—our clothes aren't exactly their vibe, and they don't even know what technology is. How are we supposed to communicate? Are you going to take away all our devices too?"

"You will keep your technology," Aldric replied, his tone measured, "but you must keep it hidden. Luna will ensure you remain connected, but no one outside Astridale and Lumira can know of its existence."

Kael inhaled slowly, pushing down the storm raging inside him, forcing himself to breathe, to think, to accept the reality being forced upon them. "And what if the shadows reach us before we're ready?"

King Arion's gaze was unreadable. "Then you will know what you are truly capable of."

That was the last thing he said before standing, signaling that the discussion was over.

The trio remained where they were, the weight of the decision pressing into their bones, but no one spoke as their parents and council members began filing out of the chamber, their quiet murmurs echoing against the high ceilings.

It wasn't until the last advisor had left that Finn let out a slow, controlled breath and muttered, "Well. That was depressing."

Maia shook her head. "It was bullshit."

Kael ran a hand over his jaw, his mind racing. "We don't have a choice."

Finn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We never do."

And with that, they turned and walked away from the throne room, their footsteps echoing down the empty halls, their fate sealed.

Tomorrow, they would leave Astridale.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

The morning arrived too soon, the weight of their forced departure pressing against Kael like an iron weight that settled in his chest and refused to move. Sleep had barely come to him, and even when it did, it was restless, haunted by the echoes of the throne room conversation, the frustration that lingered like a storm on the horizon. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the looks on his parents' faces, the unwavering decision in their voices, the finality of it all. Lying still in his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the palace waking outside his door—the distant clatter of servants preparing for the day, the muted voices of guards changing shifts, the whisper of the wind slipping through the open balcony—it all felt so familiar, and yet, it no longer brought him the comfort it once did. Everything felt distant, as though he was already standing between two worlds, no longer belonging fully to either.

Today wasn't like any other day. Today wasn't another training session, another moment spent strategizing over maps, another attempt to pry information from his parents about the war they had always known was coming. Today, they weren't being told one day you will be ready. Today, they were leaving. The thought unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. No matter how much he argued, no matter how much he insisted they could fight, that they could take on the Grimshrouds with their elemental abilities alone, that their people needed them, none of it had mattered. Their parents had made up their minds. The council had made up their minds. Now, they had no choice but to follow orders, to leave their home, to step into a kingdom that didn't even know they existed.

A sharp knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts, the sound grounding him in the present as Maia's voice carried through the wood, quieter than usual, lacking its usual sharpness. "Bro, you awake?"

He exhaled, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. "Yeah. Come in, sis."

The door creaked open, and Maia stepped inside, arms crossed, her usual confidence noticeably absent from her expression. Her long, black silky hair was styled into a loose fishtail braid that draped over one shoulder, the effortless look complementing the casual outfit she had thrown together—a white strapless bandeau top paired with a high-waisted mini skirt that featured a small front slit, layered with an oversized blue-and-white striped button-up shirt worn open, completing the look with her usual white high-top sneakers. She didn't look like someone preparing to leave behind everything she had ever known, but then again, neither of them had fully accepted that this was happening.

"You good?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe, her voice laced with an uncertainty she rarely showed.

Kael didn't answer right away, instead stretching out his arms, trying to shake off the weight that had settled in his chest before finally meeting her gaze. "Are we really doing this?"

Maia exhaled, stepping further into the room. "Do we have a choice?"

"I guess not." His gaze flicked over her outfit, his brow arching slightly. "And that's what you're wearing?"

Maia rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation. "These are casual."

Kael crossed his arms, unimpressed. "We're not going on vacation, and Eirenthal most definitely doesn't wear that."

"Just let me enjoy my style in peace before we leave," Maia muttered as she walked past him, flopping onto the chair near his desk, the weight of reality pressing down on both of them in the silence that followed.

The palace was quieter than usual as they made their way to the lower halls where the portal chamber was hidden behind thick stone walls, far from the eyes of the common people. The weight of their departure clung to them, heavy and suffocating, the atmosphere laced with an unspoken tension that neither of them addressed as they moved through the corridors. They could feel the fear among the staff, the way they kept their heads lowered, the way their hands moved faster than usual, as if distracting themselves from the reality of what was happening. The halls that once carried the comforting murmur of the kingdom's heart now felt different, as if the very walls knew that after today, things would never be the same.

When they arrived, their parents were already waiting. King Arion and Queen Lira stood near the glowing archway of the portal, their regal composure intact despite the weight of the moment, though their faces bore the evidence of the burden they carried. Finn's parents stood beside them, their expressions mirroring the same quiet acceptance, the same unspoken grief that lingered behind their firm resolve. Behind them, Aldric and several council members stood in silent discussion, their presence unnecessary now, for this was not a moment for politics or strategic debates—this was a moment between family, between those who had to say goodbye.

Finn let out a slow breath, shifting his weight slightly. "I guess this is it."

Queen Lira stepped forward first, reaching for Maia's hands, squeezing them tightly, her warmth present even as her voice carried the weight of a plea. "You must be careful. Eirenthal is not like our home. The people there will not know who you are, and for now, that is your greatest protection. But it also means you must be careful with what you say, how you act. Trust few. Observe everything."

Maia nodded, the usual sharpness in her gaze subdued beneath the weight of responsibility. "I know."

King Arion turned his attention to Kael, his gaze steady, firm but filled with a wisdom Kael knew better than to ignore. "You will lead them, as you always have. But Kael, lead with patience, not with anger." His words were measured, carefully chosen, the lesson beneath them clear—do not let your frustration blind you to what is necessary.

"I'll do what I have to," Kael responded, his voice steady but carrying the quiet defiance that had always been a part of him.

The king nodded, satisfied with the answer, but Queen Lira turned to Finn, placing a hand on his shoulder, her voice softer, filled with trust. "I trust you to keep my kids grounded."

"Mom, we're not kids," Maia pointed out, her tone laced with quiet exasperation, though there was no real fight behind her words.

The queen chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "No, but no matter how much we expect of you, no matter how much we demand, you are still our children. That will never change."

Finn smirked, though there was something heavy behind it, something reluctant. "I'll make sure they don't cause too much trouble."

Kael snorted at that, but Finn's parents pulled him into a hug before his mother whispered something too quiet for the others to hear, her voice laced with an emotion that made Finn shift uncomfortably, though he didn't pull away.

The queen stepped back, her gaze sweeping over all of them one final time. "Remember, no matter how far you go, you are never alone. We will always be with you."

The portal behind them hummed with energy, the swirling light casting golden reflections against the stone floors, its edges rippling like the surface of water disturbed by an unseen force. The moment had come, the final step between what was and what would be.

Kael swallowed down whatever lingering doubt remained before turning to Maia and Finn. "Let's go."

And with that, they stepped forward.

The portal's light enveloped them, pulling them into the weightless void, the familiar world of Astridale slipping from their grasp as they fell into the unknown.

The shift between worlds was jarring, the sensation weightless yet suffocating, as if the air had been pulled from their lungs while time itself twisted around them. The golden glow of the portal surrounded them, and for a fleeting moment, there was nothing—no sound, no sight, only the endless void of in-between. Then, as quickly as it had swallowed them, the magic expelled them forward, and solid ground slammed into their feet, the shock of the landing forcing them to stumble.

Kael barely managed to catch himself, his boots scraping against the uneven cobblestone as he straightened, his senses reeling. The moment his vision steadied, he knew—they were no longer in Astridale.

The air was different, cooler, carrying the crisp scent of damp earth, pine, and wood smoke, a stark contrast to the floral breezes of home. The warmth of Astridale's ever-present magic was gone, replaced by something quieter, more natural, a world untouched by the advancements they had always taken for granted. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of towering trees, casting flickering shadows across the uneven cobblestone path beneath their feet, the muted hum of life stirring just beyond the forest's edge.

The hum of the portal faded behind them, leaving only the distant murmur of a village coming to life somewhere beyond the trees. The realization sank in slowly—they had arrived in Eirenthal.

Maia was the first to break the silence, adjusting the strap of her bag as she let out a slow breath. "Well," she muttered, glancing around. "We're definitely not home anymore."

Finn let out a low whistle, turning in a slow circle as he took in their surroundings, his usual smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Damn. Feels like we just stepped back a few centuries."

Kael exhaled through his nose, scanning their new environment with sharp eyes, already cataloging the details they needed to understand. Eirenthal was untouched by time.

Small stone cottages with thatched roofs lined the dirt paths beyond the trees, their chimneys sending lazy trails of smoke into the crisp morning air. Wooden carts stacked with fresh produce rolled past as merchants bartered in the streets, their voices blending into the steady hum of daily life. Villagers dressed in simple tunics and woolen cloaks moved through the town, their lives seemingly unburdened by the weight of the outside world. The scent of baked bread, burning firewood, and fresh earth filled the air, weaving a stark contrast to the sleek, polished perfection of Astridale and Lumira. Here, there were no glowing streetlights, no hum of enchanted devices, no trace of the technological advancements they had always known.

Everything was raw, unpolished, untouched by the secrets of the hidden kingdoms.

Finn groaned, running a hand through his hair. "We really stand out right now."

Maia rolled her eyes, tugging at the hem of her oversized button-up before shaking her head. "Yeah, no kidding. Our clothes scream foreigners, and I don't think people here even know what synthetic fabrics are."

Kael didn't hesitate. He tapped his wrist device, activating the concealed settings that Luna had programmed before their departure. A faint shimmer pulsed over them, the magic shifting their modern outfits into something that blended seamlessly with their surroundings. Their weapons, once sleek and celestial-forged, now appeared as simple, handcrafted steel.

Maia glanced down, eyeing her now medieval-inspired gown in a rich shade of deep green, the fabric thick but elegantly layered, its corset-style bodice laced with contrasting brown leather panels and delicate embroidery. Long flowing sleeves cascaded past her wrists, trimmed with lace, while the skirt billowed in soft folds, every stitch designed for both elegance and practicality. Her expression twisted slightly.

"Oh, I hate this already," she muttered, tugging at the fabric. "If I ever meet the person who invented corsets, I'm punching them."

Finn glanced down at himself, now dressed in a deep green tunic with a lace-up neckline, layered with a rugged brown leather belt, dark fitted trousers, and tall worn-in leather boots that reached just below his knees. He ran a hand down the fabric of his shirt before letting out a low chuckle. "Okay, I officially feel like I just stepped into a history book."

Kael ignored their commentary, adjusting the dark blue tunic he now wore, its long sleeves rolled up slightly beneath a brown leather belt cinched at his waist. His boots, sturdy and well-worn, sank slightly into the dirt road beneath them as he pulled his cloak over his shoulders, already shifting his focus to what needed to be done next.

"First thing's first," he said, his voice steady. "We need a place to stay, and we need information."

Maia sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And where exactly do you suggest we get that?"

Kael's gaze flickered toward the busiest part of the village, his eyes locking onto a large tavern nestled between the market stalls and the town square, its wooden sign swaying slightly in the breeze, golden light flickering from the windows. The hum of conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of glass drifted through the open doors, the warm glow inside promising a temporary respite from the unfamiliar world surrounding them.

Finn followed his line of sight, a slow grin forming. "Ah, the classic 'sit in a shady tavern and listen' plan. Love it."

Kael nodded. "Exactly."

Maia exhaled, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Well, if we're doing this, let's at least try not to draw attention to ourselves."

Finn snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "That's optimistic."

With no other option, they started toward the tavern, their first real step into this new world, knowing that whatever awaited them in Eirenthal was only the beginning.

<>

A/N: Phew, taking a different approach here with this book. Hopefully, you guys like it. I should be resting, but here I am. Vote, comment, and constructive criticism will be appreciated.