Lucien was dreaming.
No… falling.
She knew it wasn't real.
She knew it wasn't safe.
Moments ago, she'd been fighting—bleeding—alive.
Now?
The air was too still. The silence… too heavy.
Something was wrong.
Then came a voice.
Low. Familiar. And wrong in all the right ways.
"Lucien."
"It's one of the Banished Ones."
"You weren't supposed to be here."
A pull.
Gentle, yet absolute.
She followed.
Not because she trusted it—
But because something ancient inside her recognized it.
She walked.
And when the mist broke—
Her heart nearly stopped.
Her village.
Untouched. Alive.
As if the flames had never come.
She stepped forward, memories clawing at her.
"Why did you bring me here?"
A figure emerged beside her. Cloaked. Towering.
Dragging darkness in its wake.
"So you can remember."
Lucien narrowed her eyes.
"Remember what?"
The Banished One didn't smile. Didn't blink.
"Who you are."
"Weren't you the student of a great shaman?"
"You're weak now. Unfinished."
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"I'm not weak."
She marched ahead, feet kicking up dust from a life long gone.
Then—
A flicker.
A shadow perched on a rooftop.
Watching.
Gone before her mind could name it.
She froze.
"Who was that?"
The Banished One didn't look.
"You've felt that presence your whole life."
"Keep moving."
Her breath caught. That chill in her spine—
She'd felt it since she was a child.
But never knew why.
At the edge of the road—where the village ended and the cliff met fog—
The Banished One stopped.
"This is the end of my path."
"The rest is yours to walk."
Lucien's voice cracked.
"Just tell me what I need to know."
"I can't."
"Your shaman—your master—sealed the truth. None of us can break that vow."
She stepped forward.
"Then why are you helping me at all?"
But before the answer came—
The fog struck.
Black tendrils coiled around her.
Tight. Cold. Alive.
She screamed—
Dragged into the mist.
The Banished One didn't move.
Didn't lift a hand.
Just whispered into the wind:
"You were right, Master…"
"She's stubborn."
"But she'll be a great mage.