It had always been dark and gloomy inside this forest, even in broad daylight. Serenel folk used to believe it was haunted. Not many preferred visiting this island forest except for the city's wood supplier Tim, who collected wood from here, a gang of fear-nothing-adolescents doing some stupid dare, and Ada, who had a whole life revolving around a crevice in a rock wall here.

She walked swiftly on the thorny, rooty floor. She had walked these paths so many times more than she could remember to count. Her cape, long and flowy, dared not to hook anywhere. That's how well the forest knew her, and she knew the forest back.

Hoots, growls, and even moans could be heard. Ada knew which is which; she could even tell each sound apart. Not bothering about them, she kept walking until she reached the dead end of the walk where a wall of ancient stones blocked her way.

The stones, covered in damp moss that sparkled with dewdrops in the dim light, bore the marks of time and weather-cracks and scars revealing their rough edges. Their surfaces were marred by fissures and grooves, resembling veins running across them. Some cracks were deep and wide, exposing the dark core of the stones, while others were thin and shallow, barely visible under the layer of moss.

A particular spot had a hole dug into the wall, creating the impression that a stone was missing. The creases formed patterns and shapes that hinted at their history and origin-some looked like letters or symbols, carved by human hands long ago, while others resembled claw marks, left by some unknown beast or creature. The stones had seen many things, but they kept their secrets well.

Ada's eyes darted over each stone before settling on the middle, slightly chipped and stained stone plaque. She glanced around, ensuring no one was following her. Then, she hastily fished out an octagon-shaped stone plaque and placed it where a stone seemed to be missing. The piece fit perfectly, like a puzzle piece, and she tapped on the stone twice with her fingernail. The wall trembled and parted, creating a narrow gap for her to slip through.

Inside the crack, it was a whole different world.

The canals leading from the Sambili forest down to the Crepusculem were like thin veins, carrying the lifeblood of the city of Moon. The houses and establishments were humble and modest, huddled close to each other. The stones of the city breathed the scent of the forest and rain. Fragments of conversation floated from open windows; distant laughter bounced off the deserted streets. A rat scurried across her path, as big as a cat, making her flinch. She glanced around, checking for any pursuers, then ducked into another smaller alley leading to a road she knew like the back of her hand.

She slipped into the shadows, the warm embrace of darkness enveloping her like an old friend. Her footsteps were light, barely leaving a trace as she navigated the labyrinthine paths. Every step carried her closer to her goal, her mind focused on the mission that propelled her forward. Shadows danced around her, playing their nocturnal symphony, while the moonlight cast an ethereal glow upon her path until the grandeur of the architecture came into view.

Surrounded by a short stone fence that separated it from the rest of the world's bustle, The Great Crepusculem stood in all its grandeur—a sensory symphony that seized hold of her senses.

The Grand Hall reached towards the heavens with regal poise, its surface adorned with intricate carvings weaving stories of ancient wisdom and mythical creatures. As the moon's silvery rays kissed the stone, the carvings seemed to come alive.

Golden accents adorned the intricate architectural roof, casting a warm glow that bathed the surroundings in an ethereal light. The shimmering gold reflected off polished surfaces, creating an aura of enchantment that embraced all who stood beneath its influence. It was a sight that defied logic, as if the very laws of reality bent to accommodate the magnificence of this sacred space.

The figure of the former heir of Romersai darted through the alley, darker than the shadows around her, draped in a cloak of scarlet that trailed behind her like a stain. She wore a veil obscuring her features, and the only sign of her movement was the sharp clang of her heels on the wet pavement.

The majestic architecture of a sacred city loomed ahead in her path. Her steps were steady and swift against the cold night breeze as she swiftly ascended the fleets, thanking the years of training at field learning how to swift as a shadow assassin.

The bustling alley was alive with motion, an ocean of heads moving like a swirling sea. Hundreds of individuals went about their tasks—bare-chested male servants clad in loose ebony trousers, their bodies hardened by labour; young maids in soft white and pastel pink robes, busy cleaning, arranging, and carrying trays of food and bolts of silk; and mages, distinguished by their robes of earthy, crimson, violet, or turquoise, each colour marking their rank or role. Their faces bore the weight of varied emotions—determination, anxiety, exhaustion.

As she ventured further, she could feel the crackle of energy in the air. The atmosphere pulsed with an undeniable aura of magic, infusing the space with palpable energy that heightened her awareness. The heady scent of incense mingled with the aroma of exotic spices, the sweet fragrance of flowers, and the tantalising aroma of sumptuous delicacies, creating an intoxicating blend that further immersed her in this captivating realm.

Her heart beat with anticipation, her spirit ignited by the magic that swirled within and around her.

In the distance, a battle cry echoed from the mountains, a reminder that some were engaged in late-night training. A practice once unheard of in these parts. A necessity that has arised in these desperate times.

The cacophony of voices merged into a symphony, a relentless ebb and flow that mirrored the tide of life in this place, each sound a wave crashing against the shore of uncertainty.

Her ears picked up on a familiar voice amidst the cacophony, drawing her eyes to a familiar sight. A very furious Hanna was berating a group of young mages in a corner, her face darkened with stress as she threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

By the looks of it, Ada could tell these were guardian mages, tasked with keeping every Romersai safe. Concealing herself beside a nearby tree, Ada watched them closely.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hanna, still not entirely satisfied with her scolding but clearly exhausted, dismissed the mages. Ada trailed Hanna with her eyes as she stomped back into the hall behind them. With a few careful glances to ensure the coast was clear, Ada quietly fell into step behind her.

The veil draped over her face concealed her features, but the fear of being recognised by her family gnawed at her. Dressed to blend in, she looked every bit a Romersai, just as she had once been. Yet, every time she passed one of them, goosebumps prickled her skin.

She was disguised as a mage in training, the violet linen lining her cloak marking her as someone on the brink of being a graduated official. It was a rank that commanded enough respect to avoid questioning from those lower in status.

However, should she encounter someone with a golden lining, the situation might change.

Only two people in this place bore cloaks with golden linings. One was Hanna, and the other was Shinatzai Zen—the one person she most feared encountering. She forced herself to maintain her composure, but her pulse quickened with each step, her heart hammering in her chest.

The plaque she carried had granted her access and marked her as a mostly welcomed presence, but she had no desire to test its validity tonight.

She just needed a chance to talk to Hanna. To tell her everything happened at the Ceremony night. That was the least she could do. Unlike the previous encounter with Gan she would not be able to fight him alone again. The limits of her dormant power could not stretch to match her needs. But she had to do it without others seeing.

The incoming trails of maidens, each and everyone taking a side as the Head Mage passed them respectfully, bowing, was not helping. Ada didn't want trouble, neither for herself nor for Hanna. She hid behind shadows cast by the moonlit pillars as she trailed the woman in velvet robes.

Hanna's long black hair trailed behind her, much like the flowing robe she wore. The sweet scent of the orchids, which adorned her ebony locks, wafted through the air, filling the surroundings with their alluring fragrance.

She kept continuously mumbling to herself, the words strained and incoherent. Ada strained her ears, hoping to catch some of it, but it wasn't clear enough. Hanna seemed very upset. She resorted to self-talk when she had a lot on her mind and didn't know how to handle it.

Guilt washed over Ada. It was all her fault. This middle-aged lady had taken care of her, fed her, kept her company, and raised her like her own child. Yet, all Ada had brought in return was trouble.

Taking one last turn in the hallway, Hanna opened a door. Ada knew exactly where it led. The door shut behind Hanna, and Ada bolted out of her hideout. A seconds delay would make her lose the only chance of meeting Hanna tonight. She quickly opened the door and got inside.

The interior was a vast space with entrances to four different tunnels, each emitting a bright beam of light. Ada knew that once inside, each tunnel would further split into hundreds of others. Those paths served as quick access to every door the Crepusculem had. Navigating through them required knowledge, and only a few mages knew all the correct paths.

Hanna was one of them, but Ada wasn't. She knew a few, the dozen that every mage should, and ten more that only the heir could access. There was more she could have discovered if she had completed her training as an heir.

She felt lost even before walking into any of the four tunnels. The trails of Hanna were already gone. The only thing she could think of doing was to check the paths she knew. Determined, Ada walked into the first tunnel right in front of her and proceeded along the path she knew.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The air grew colder and heavier. The narrow pathway was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls. Ada stepped forward, her senses heightened, as if the very walls whispered secrets. The passage seemed to stretch on endlessly, curving and winding through the depths of the earth. Mysterious symbols and markings adorned the walls, etched by hands long gone.

Each step she took echoed softly, a haunting melody that resonated through the hidden corridor. The further she ventured, the faster her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of excitement and trepidation intertwining.

As the passage twisted, Ada's fingers brushed against cold, damp moss that clung to the walls. It was as if nature itself had claimed this hidden realm, reclaiming its dominion from the touch of man. The moss glowed faintly in the dim light, casting an ethereal glow that guided her way.

Finally, Ada reached a set of weathered stone steps that ascended into darkness. The stairs creaked under her weight as she climbed, her hands lightly brushing the rough surface of the walls for balance.

The air grew thinner, tinged with a faint aroma of incense and a lingering hint of something indefinable. At the top of the stairs, Ada emerged into a hidden chamber, bathed in an otherworldly glow, as welcoming as it had been four years back. Soft beams of light filtered through stained glass windows, casting colourful patterns on the stone floor.

The chamber was adorned with ancient tapestries, depicting forgotten tales of heroes and legends. Candle flames flickered, casting dancing shadows that seemed to breathe life into the stillness. In the centre of the chamber were five stone benches, each aligned one behind another. Upon seeing the seating arrangement for the mages, a memory resurfaced in her mind.

It had been her twelfth birthday. Mom, dad, Auden , and even grandma had been there. They had held a grand celebration, just a fortnight before the annual ritual ceremony to celebrate the future heiress's big day. And as per the usual Granny had introduced one of her new students to them.

He was tall, young, and handsome. His eyes sparkled in a slight amber shade when he smiled. He looked kind, and Ada immediately grew fond of him. He had brought her a bunny plush from the city, something that did not exist in this stone-covered world she lived in.

'He was one of a kind,' Ada had thought. The kind you want to grow old together. Though she had learned it from grandma that he had recently gained immorality and would not grow any old from this young form.

When Ada had asked where grandma had found him, her answer had been 'the forest'. Something bad had happened to him, and she would tell her the story later -- though the kind lady never made it to tell her the tale before she passed away.

Ada had promised him a tour around the Crepusculum. They had walked side by side young Ada rambling, making sure that this new friend of hers would know every tale woven around every architecture they passed.

At some point, they had reached this place–the Tower of the Sun–where mages who had powers related to the sun would train. On calm, moonlit nights, this place was silent and empty. The young heiress and her new friend had sat side by side on the front row bench, the moon bright and high in the sky.

"So, you still didn't tell me your name," she had suddenly quipped.

In the excitement of having a handsome friend, she had forgotten to even get his name. All the naive guys in the Crepusculum could never beat his looks, she was sure. And she had not wanted to share him with any girls around.

Her friend chuckled. "Oh, I thought you'd never ask," his eyes sparkled.

"It's Devereaux. Devereaux Severan."