Chapter 100 THE MESSENGERS IN BLACK

Chapter 100 THE MESSENGERS IN BLACK

The entire camp fell silent.
One messenger.
No army.
No banners.
Just one man claiming to represent the Veilborn.
Levion's eyes hardened.
"Bring him to the outer clearing."
The scout nodded and hurried away.
Theron turned sharply to Ciara.
"Whatever happens, let us do the talking first."
Ciara frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the Veilborn have many gifts."
He paused.
"And truth is one of their most dangerous weapons."

Minutes later, the stranger entered the clearing.
He wore a long black cloak fastened with a silver clasp shaped like a raven.
His face was hidden beneath a hood.
He carried no visible weapon.
Yet every wolf instinctively tensed as he walked past.
He stopped several paces from Ciara.
Without lowering his hood, he bowed.
Not deeply.
Not respectfully.
Simply enough to acknowledge her presence.
"I bring greetings," he said calmly.
His voice was smooth, almost gentle.
Levion stepped forward.
"State your purpose."
The messenger looked at him.
"I did."
"I bring greetings."

No one spoke.
The stranger slowly reached into his cloak.
Several warriors immediately drew their swords.
The messenger smiled faintly.
"If I intended violence..."
He withdrew a small sealed scroll.
"...I would have arrived differently."
He held the scroll out.
"It is for the First Blood."
Theron accepted it before Ciara could.
He examined the black wax seal.
His expression tightened.
"It bears no family crest."
The messenger nodded.
"It bears only a promise."

Theron broke the seal carefully and unfolded the parchment.
Only a few lines were written.
His face paled as he read them.
Levion noticed immediately.
"What does it say?"
Theron handed the scroll to Ciara without a word.
She read aloud.
To the Daughter of the First Blood.

You seek peace where our ancestors sought order.

You awaken what was meant to remain asleep.

If you wish to know why your bloodline was erased... come to the Lake of Mirrors.

Come alone.

Or remain forever ignorant of your true inheritance.
Silence followed.
The messenger folded his hands behind his back.
"The invitation is genuine."
Levion laughed coldly.
"It's a trap."
The messenger inclined his head.
"Of course it is."
Several wolves stared at him in disbelief.
"You admit it?" Zayn asked.
"I was instructed not to insult your intelligence."

Ciara looked up from the scroll.
"Why would I ever agree to this?"
The messenger answered without hesitation.
"Because you want answers more than comfort."
Those words struck deeper than she wanted to admit.

Theron stepped forward.
"Tell your masters she will not come."
The messenger looked at the old Keeper.
"They expected you to say that."
He turned back to Ciara.
"They also expected you to ignore him."
Levion's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
"You've delivered your message."
"Leave."
The messenger bowed once more.
"As you wish."
He turned and began walking toward the forest.
No one stopped him.

Just before reaching the trees, he paused.
Without looking back, he spoke one final sentence.
"The Flame Stone was only the beginning."
Then he disappeared into the shadows.

For several moments, no one moved.
Finally, Zayn broke the silence.
"We're not seriously considering this..."
Levion answered immediately.
"No."
Theron nodded firmly.
"Absolutely not."
Both men turned toward Ciara.
She was still staring at the scroll.
Lost in thought.
Levion stepped closer.
"Ciara."
She looked up slowly.
"They know about the Lake of Mirrors."
Theron sighed.
"They stole one Anchor. They would know."
Ciara's fingers tightened around the parchment.
"They want me there."
"Yes," Theron replied.
"So we don't go," Levion said.
Ciara remained quiet.

That evening, as darkness settled over Blue Moon, she walked alone to the great oak.
The pendant around her neck pulsed softly.
Warm.
Steady.
Almost like a heartbeat.
She closed her eyes.
The vision returned.
The crystal lake.
The waterfall.
The ancient shrine.
But this time...
She wasn't alone.
A shadow stood beside the shrine, watching her.
Its face remained hidden.
Yet somehow...
She knew it was smiling.
Ciara opened her eyes with a sharp breath.
The pendant had never reacted like this before.
She whispered into the quiet night.
"What are you trying to show me?"
The pendant answered with another pulse of warm light.
Far away, hidden beyond the northern mountains, the leader of the Veilborn stood before the stolen Flame Stone.
Its surface glowed with a faint silver light.
The hooded figure smiled.
"She's beginning to hear the Anchors."
A second figure stepped forward.
"And if she refuses the invitation?"
The leader's smile never faded.
"She won't."
"How can you be so certain?"
The figure looked toward the distant horizon.
"Because every seeker eventually chooses truth over safety."
And somewhere beneath the moonlit sky, the Lake of Mirrors waited in silence, holding secrets that had been buried for a thousand years.