The wind roared as Elira sprinted through the blackened courtyard of Arcanis Academy, Kael behind her, his cloak flying behind him like a ghost in a storm. She recalled Headmaster Drelor's words: "You've awakened something that can't be contained. If the Sanctum beckons to you. you must heed its call."
The air hung thick with threat. In the distance, past the distant spires, runes glowed with soft light, a disbelieving ripple of magic wavering in the air like a storm on the horizon. With every step they made, they advanced deeper into the very heart of the academy—and closer to whatever its secrets were attempting to conceal.
"We can't be doing this," Elira gasped, taking in short, ragged breaths. "It's a trap."
Kael's hard, black eyes met hers. "It's a trap," he said. "Just not the one you're thinking. The Sanctum doesn't trap people to kill them—it judges. And if we're going to have any chance of getting any answers, we have to pass its test."
