Shattered Veil (The Dark Ascendant #2)

Prologue

The cloaked figure moved toward the cluttered workbench with deliberate steps. Candlelight illuminated a precise array of arcane ingredients, each a vital piece of the task before them.

Gloved fingers extended, plucking a dried herb bundle from its resting place. The figure ’ s movements possessed the practiced ease of one intimately familiar with this art. With meticulous focus, they crumbled the fragrant leaves into a worn mortar, their mind consumed by the gravity of the work.

Next came a vial of shimmering silver liquid. The figure paused, cradling the bottle with respectful caution, as if a mere breath could unloose the contained power. They knew too well the price of even the slightest misstep.

With steady hands, the figure uncorked the vial and tipped the metallic liquid into the waiting crucible. The concoction roiled and hissed, then turned. An acrid scent, ancient and faintly sour, stung their nostrils.

As the potion simmered, a heavy sigh escaped the figure ’ s lips. Brow furrowed, they closed their eyes. The burden of their choices settled like a lead shroud over their shoulders.

The figure shook off the momentary falter and reached for the next component. The path was set. For better or worse, they would see this through to whatever end fate delivered.