I could feel my pulse beat relentlessly in my palm as if I were holding my own heart in my hand. 

The magic coursing through me manifested in my right hand, which shimmered with a bright blue light. 

It might as well have been my heart for what I was about to do. 

I checked the black rope at my waist, securing it with a tight pull on the knot, then focused on the glowing rune beneath me.

I had done this many times before, so why was I feeling nervous now?

I attempted to steady my heart as  I pressed my glowing hand firmly against the intricate symbol, igniting it along with several other runes that formed a perfect circle around me. 

A sudden, powerful gust of wind whipped through the chamber, sending all small, unsecured items hurtling through the space. The air inside the chamber pulsated with ancient energy.

Undeterred by the storm blowing around me, I chanted words that were now long forgotten by the world. And with each uttered syllable, the wind intensified. It roared around me like a beast eager to break free of its chains. It pushed and pulled against me, threatening to lift me off my feet, but I held firm, bracing myself against the ferocious gale, never lifting my arm from the glowing rune.

As the runes continued to glow brighter, I could now see the silhouettes of other men against the room’s dark stone walls. They held onto the other end of the heavy, black rope tethered to my waist, sidestepping the airborne debris with practiced agility. They, too, had done with me many times.

A blinding light suddenly burst into existence in front of me, its intensity casting long shadows over me. With each passing second, it grew and morphed into a swirling vortex of brilliant, ever-shifting colors. 

Its size threatened to consume me and everything else in its path. 

As much as I strained against its force, the vortex's power lifted my body from the ground,  ripped me off the rune, and pulled me toward its spiraling center. 

The rope around my waist pulled taut as the men on the other end held firmly to me. Even as I risked being consumed by the spiraling light, I continued the chant.

 A voice shouted from behind me—one of the men holding the rope—but I paid it no heed.

I was so close. I couldn’t stop now.

A sudden pang in my chest caused my breath to catch in my throat. In that pause, the runes’ glow extinguished one by one, their energy spent. The multi-colored vortex shrank until it was no more, leaving the chamber in utter darkness.

My exhausted body fell to the ground with a soft, almost pitiful thud. The chamber plunged into an oppressive silence. 

“It didn’t work,” I muttered softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. My heart was heavy with the weight of failure.

I closed my eyes, accepting the shroud of darkness that enveloped me.

A chill, icy as winter's touch, swept across my brow, pulling me from the grasp of dreams. 

 As the fog in my vision dissipated, the familiar details of my opulent chamber emerged from the gloom.

One of the room's ornate double doors—sculpted with intricate designs of roses and vines—groaned softly, allowing a sliver of the hallway's muted light to break through. 

His footfalls, barely more than a whisper on the carpet, brought him to my bedside. The relief in his oceanic blue eyes was palpable as they settled on me. "It is heartening to witness your eyes open once more, Your Grace. " His gentle, fatherly tone resonated with genuine worry. Carefully, he removed the wet cloth from my forehead and helped me to a seated position.

Turning my attention to the grand, arched window draped in rich, navy-blue curtains, my eyes lost themselves in the early night sky outside. "Pascal," I began, "how long was I asleep?"

"Merely a handful of hours, Your Grace," Pascal replied, nodding toward a polished wooden bedside table where damp cloths lay folded in a neat pile. "A touch of fever had its claws in you."

A long pause ensued, thick with unspoken words and shared history. Pascal, always the caretaker, pierced the stillness. "Shall I request your evening repast, Your Grace?"

A single, brief nod was all the response Pascal required. With a respectful bow, he retired to gather dinner for me.

Drawn to the outside world, I rose from the bed and approached; my gaze focused on the looming tempest gathering strength from the south. 

A knock rippled through the silence before I could lose myself further in my thoughts. "Enter," I beckoned, assuming it to be Pascal and the maid with my supper.

As the doors swung open, a young man entered, his hair a chaotic cascade of chestnut and eyes azure as the midday sky.

"Take a seat, Henry," I said, gesturing toward one of the lavishly upholstered couches, velvet the color of ripe plums.

Henry perched on the couch. "Your Grace," he began, his voice tinged with the gravity of the news. "We have just received a raven from Aeloria."

I sat on the couch across from him, my intense gaze compelling him to elaborate. "Is that all?" I inquired, my voice impatient.

"The guild members claim they felt a strange energy pulse a few hours ago, around the same time as..." Henry's voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

I didn’t need Henry to complete his sentence. "We must head to Aeloria at once," I declared, moving with such urgency that my rising caused a bout of vertigo. I swayed unsteadily, grasping for balance, just as Pascal entered with a maid bearing my dinner.

"Your Grace, you are not fit to go anywhere," Pascal asserted, concern etched deeply into his features.

Henry stepped forward, offering his support as he and Pascal guided me back to the comfortable confines of the couch. "Pascal is right, Your Grace. You still need to recover. I will ride out and look into this. I'll send a raven ahead so the guild members in Aeloria can begin searching for the energy source," he explained to me, his tone resolute.

I shook my head, determination flickering in my eyes. "No, I will come with you. Pascal order the carriage to be readied." I insisted, attempting to rise but ultimately surrendering to my body’s protests. I sank back into the plush cushions, the maddening sense of helplessness washing over me.

"You and Belmont head out first on horseback. I will follow in the carriage." I addressed Henry, who hesitated before nodding his agreement.

"Yes, Your Grace. We will head out immediately. Lord Belmont and I should make it to Aeloria by tomorrow night." Henry bowed and took his leave. I was left in the care of Pascal and the maid, who was finishing setting up my dinner on the table before the couch. My thoughts churned in turmoil as they bustled about, arranging the dishes.

Could it have worked? I wondered, my gaze drawn again to the window, the darkened sky outside a canvas for my racing thoughts.