The underground chamber pulsed with ancient power. Marina stood at the edge of the original ritual circle, her bare feet touching the cold stone floor. The air carried the weight of centuries, thick with dust, old magic, and the faint metallic tang of preserved blood runes. Silvain remained close behind her, his presence steady and protective. Vael sat in the exact center of the circle, legs crossed beneath her, as though she had been waiting in that same position for decades.

The woman looked older than anyone Marina had ever seen, yet her body held an ageless strength. Silver streaks ran through her long dark hair, and her eyes glowed...