Isabella woke to chaos.
One moment she was dreaming of butterflies and music boxes, the next she was sitting upright in the back seat, heart pounding, eyes wide. Screams echoed through the mist. The car rocked violently. Shadows darted past the windows—dark, fast, wrong.
"Mommy?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Daddy?" she felt her heart beating fast inside her chest.
She saw her parents outside, fighting. Her father swung a glowing blade, his face fierce and wild. Her mother's hands blazed with light, her voice shouting spells Isabella didn't understand. A stranger in black fought beside them, his hood torn, his face bleeding.
Isabella screamed.
"Mommy! Daddy!"
She tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The shadows pressed closer. The mist thickened. Her music box fell to the floor, its tune warping into something eerie.
Then the door ripped open.
A figure loomed—tall, cloaked, faceless. Hands grabbed her, rough and cold. She kicked, screamed, clawed at the seat, but she was small. Untrained. Her strength was no match.
"NO!" she cried. "Let me go!"
She saw her parents turn, horror on their faces. Her mother reached out, her voice breaking. Her father roared, charging toward her.
But the shadows swallowed her.
She was dragged into the mist, her feet scraping the ground, her cries echoing through the trees.
"Mommy! Daddy!"
She saw them one last time—her mother's face twisted in anguish, her father's eyes blazing with fury.
Then everything went dark.
And Isabella was gone.
Isabella's world was a blur of shadows and panic.
She kicked and screamed as the cloaked figures ran with her through the mist, her voice hoarse from shouting. "Mommy! Daddy!" she cried, again and again, but the forest swallowed her screams. The trees blurred past, the air around her freezing cold, but she didn't even notice. Her music box was gone. Her blanket was gone. Her parents were gone.
She fought with everything she had—tiny fists pounding against the figure's chest, legs kicking wildly—but it wasn't enough. She hadn't been trained. She didn't know how to use her powers. She didn't even know what they were.
The figure didn't speak. Didn't flinch. Just carried her deeper into the woods, where the mist grew darker and the air colder.
Eventually, they reached a clearing where a huge black SUV waited—sleek, silent, and pulsing with unnatural energy. The door opened on its own. Isabella was pushed inside.
She scrambled to the far corner, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling. The door slammed shut. The car began to move, gliding through the trees, without sound.
She pressed her face to the window, but the mist outside was too thick. She couldn't see the road. Couldn't see the stars. Couldn't see her parents.
"Please," she whispered. "I want to go home."
A voice answered from the shadows inside the car.
"You are home now, child."
Isabella turned slowly. A man sat across from her, his eyes glowing faintly red, his face marked with twisted tattoos. He smiled, but she wasn't sure if it was kind.
"I've waited a long time to meet you."
Isabella backed away, her heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The man leaned forward, his voice like smoke. "I am the one who will teach you what you truly are."
She shook her head. "I don't want to learn from you."
His smile widened. "You don't have a choice."
And as the car disappeared into the mist, Isabella curled into herself, clutching her knees, whispering her parents' names like a prayer.
Christopher and Ariel
The mist still hung heavy over the mountain road, stained with blood and silence. The trees stood like mourners, their branches dripping with rain and sorrow. The shattered car sat abandoned, its doors flung open, its back- seat empty.
Aurora arrived with her elite Guardians—silent, swift, cloaked in black. Their boots crunched against the gravel as they approached the scene, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the shadows.
But it was already over.
The Guardian who had escorted Christopher and Ariel lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. His jacket was torn, soaked in blood, his tattoos flickering weakly. Two Guardians knelt beside him, pressing cloth to his wounds, whispering healing incantations.
Aurora's eyes swept the scene; her face carved from stone. Then she saw Ariel.
Ariel was on her knees, clutching Isabella's blanket, her sobs echoing through the trees. Her hair clung to her face, her hands trembled, her voice cracked with grief.
"She's gone," she cried. "They took her. They took our baby."
Christopher knelt beside her, arms wrapped around her, his own face pale and hollow. He held her tightly, whispering words he didn't believe, trying to be strong when everything inside him was breaking.
"We'll find her," he said. "We'll get her back."
Aurora stepped forward, her cloak billowing behind her. She knelt beside the wounded Guardian, her hand glowing as she touched his forehead.
"He's fading," one of her healers said. "We need to get him to the sanctuary. Now."
Aurora nodded. "Take him, save him."
The Guardians lifted him gently, vanishing into the mist with practiced speed.
Aurora turned to Christopher and Ariel, her voice low and steady. "We will find her. I swear it."
Ariel looked up, her eyes wild. "She's just a child. She doesn't know who she is. She doesn't know how to fight."
Christopher's jaw clenched. "Then we fight for her."
Aurora placed a hand on his shoulder. "We will. But we must be smart. Malric has her now. And he won't let her go easily."
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of smoke and something darker.
Aurora looked toward the horizon, where the veil shimmered faintly.
"She's still alive," she said. "I can feel it." Ariel was shaking with fear for her daughter, as she tried not to imagine why they had wanted her daughter alive.
In the silence that followed, the Guardians prepared to hunt.