The air at the summit of the tower was different—thin and humming, charged with a latent power that made the skin prickle. We stood in a circular observatory, its walls composed more of crystal than stone. Through uninterrupted panes, the world outside was a tapestry of sun-drenched wildflowers and, in the far distance, a forest of impossible emerald. Between these vast windows, small alcoves housed ancient artifacts that thrummed with a magic so old it felt like a low, resonant note held in the air.

At the room’s heart sat a grand desk, carved from a single slab of obsidian-dark wood. Upon its polished surface, a sphere of flawless crystal swirled with milky nebulae within its depths, a far grander sibling to the one Amelia had given me. Beside it, stacks of parchment lay waiting, flanking a single, raven-feather quill poised in its holder next to a pot of ink that shimmered like a captured night sky.

I scanned the room’s perimeter, but the Tower Master was absent. A shift in the air behind me, a subtle pressure change, was my only warning.

“So,” a voice said, calm and resonant, seemingly from all directions at once. “An elf and… something else.”

I spun around. He wasn’t the wizened archmage I’d pictured. He was young, with hair the color of bleached bone that fell artfully across a high forehead, framing eyes the startling, predatory blue of a glacial crevasse. He wore a simple white tunic, dark trousers, and worn leather boots—a stark contrast to the palpable power that radiated from him.

“I am a full elf,” Cassius corrected, his voice regaining its confidence as he swept back his hood. He gestured to me. “She is a half-elf.”

The master’s gaze drifted to me, analytical and unnervingly perceptive. He circled me once, a predator assessing its quarry, before stopping. “No points to your ears that I can see.”

“I keep them hidden.”

“Then you will reveal them,” he stated, his tone soft but absolute. “I don’t grant audiences to outsiders on faith alone, especially when neither of you registers any discernible mana. And yet…” His blue eyes locked onto mine. “The whispers say you possess enough to shatter the very shield I am now tasked with repairing.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I suppose I will have to make the next one stronger. Now. The ears, if you please.”

The world narrowed to the familiar weight of the bracelet on my wrist. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I had never taken it off. Never. My hand trembled as I fumbled with the clasp, the metal cold against my skin. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I slid it from my arm.

A tingling rush, like blood returning to a numb limb, shot up the sides of my head. The cool air of the tower summit touched the newly freed tips of my ears, and the low hum of the artifacts sharpened, becoming clearer, more distinct. My hands rose on their own accord, my fingertips brushing against the delicate, tapered points, confirming a truth I had spent a lifetime concealing. A strange, unfamiliar strength settled in my bones. I let my hands fall to my sides, stood a little taller, and met the Tower Master’s stare head-on.

His focus was entirely on my ears. I glanced at Cassius, whose own lips were parted, his breath catching in a soft, reverent sound. The heavy silence in the room became a cloak, and I decided to tear it.

“Now you know we are not lying,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my soul. I slid the bracelet back onto my wrist, the familiar click of the clasp a small, grounding comfort.

Cassius found his voice. “I am Cassius, and this is—”

“Thalia,” I finished for him, my gaze unwavering from the master’s.

“Veldrane,” he replied, his eyes finally lifting to meet mine. “Just Veldrane. Or Vel, if you prefer.” He moved to his desk and sank into the high-backed chair, steepling his fingers. His smile vanished. “Before we proceed,” he began, his voice dropping, “there is a curse on you, elf. A rot of dark and ancient magic clinging to your very soul.”

I felt the shock register on my face before I could school my features into a neutral mask. His perceptive gaze missed nothing.

“Now,” Veldrane continued, leaning forward. “What does one do to earn such a mark? You have piqued my interest. I am willing to hear you out.”

Cassius took a quiet, steadying breath. “I was cursed by a trusted friend and the former human king of Tirilla,” he said, his voice firm, layered with the echoes of old pain. “They were abducting humans and elves, draining them of their mana. When I discovered their plot and refused to aid them, they laid a trap. I was cursed and left in a dungeon beneath the palace to be forgotten.”

Veldrane ran a hand through his pale hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “There is no lie in your words. Very well. However, my expertise does not extend to curse-breaking of this magnitude. I am afraid I cannot help you with that.”

“We didn’t come for that,” I cut in, my voice sharp enough to sever the thread of the past. I stepped to the desk, forcing his attention fully onto me. “We need your help to find an ancient kingdom.”

“And which kingdom would that be?” Vel asked, his tone deceptively casual.

“Oakhaven.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. His eyes glinted with amusement. “I don’t offer my services for free. You will owe me a favor, Princess Thalia.”

My jaw went tight. “How did you know?” I demanded.

“I attended the birthday celebration for Crown Prince Dolion,” he explained smoothly. “While the royal family holds no true power here, it is prudent to remain in their good graces. You have hidden yourself remarkably well, I’ll admit.”

I planted my hands on the cool wood of his desk, leaning into his space. “A secret I intend to keep.”

“Oh, I have no interest in courtly gossip,” he purred, the smile never leaving his eyes. “A favor, however, is far more valuable.”

I pushed back, reclaiming my posture and my composure. “Fine,” I conceded. “If you want a favor, we bind it. I want a magic contract.” I laid out my terms, my voice crisp and clear. “You will keep my identity a secret, you will provide us with the location of Oakhaven, and in return, I will owe you a single favor, to be claimed at a date of your choosing.”

“Acceptable.” With a lazy, intricate gesture of his hand, a scroll of pure light unfurled in the air between us, casting the room in a gilded glow before settling onto the desk. “A magic contract,” he said, all traces of amusement gone from his voice. “It cannot be broken. Attempt to do so, and it will consume your life force until nothing remains.” He offered me the quill. Its ink shimmered like liquid starlight. “Your last chance to refuse.”

“No.” I took the quill. After scanning the glowing, arcane script, I signed my name. The ink flowed from the nib like a living thing. Cassius signed after me, his script as elegant and precise as he was. Finally, Veldrane added his own signature, a sharp, angular mark of power.

The moment the final stroke was complete, a complex magic circle materialized above the parchment, humming with immense energy. I felt a brief, searing heat on my wrist and looked down to see a sigil of intertwined silver lines burn itself onto my skin before fading to a faint, ethereal mark.

“The pact is sealed,” Veldrane confirmed, his voice resonating with the finality of the magic. We had really done it. The contract was real, the magic humming against my wrist like a second heartbeat. My fingers lingered on the now invisible mark before I lowered my hand and turned back to Vel. He rose and retrieved a heavy, leather-bound tome and a rolled map from a nearby shelf. “The precise coordinates of Oakhaven,” he said, placing them on the desk, “and a history of the kingdom, complete with illustrations. You are fortunate. That city is a ghost for a reason, a name deliberately erased from time. I will not pry into how you know of it.”

“Thank you,” Cassius replied for us both. 

I opened the tome, my fingers tracing the faded drawings of a city built into colossal trees. Cassius leaned over my shoulder, his eyes wide.

“A few final things,” Vel said, and I looked up. “Should you require my assistance again, my name is all the gatekeeper will need. And regarding my barrier…” A wry grin returned. “Next time, try not to break my barrier. Feel the energy; it will open for you.”

“I’ll do my best,” I replied, a small smile touching my own lips.

After we had committed the maps and illustrations to memory, I closed the heavy book. “Thank you, Vel.”

He gave a slow, deliberate nod. “You may open your portal from this room. It is the only place in the tower shielded enough to ensure a stable passage.”

I turned, gathering my mana, but his voice stopped me one last time. “And, Thalia.”

I glanced back. His expression was utterly serious. “Be careful. I have never set foot in that ancient city. I do not know what secrets it has kept, or why it has been allowed to keep them.”

“We will,” I promised, raising a hand in farewell. “Until next time.”