Sable and her servant Calsoon trekked through the dark and twisted corridor within the depths of New Estinia. Carved into the walls was the history of the Daybreak and how they came to be. From their exodus of Long Whisper to the building of their underground city. All that was written within the scrolls appeared on these walls.

The end of the tunnel was blocked by a massive stone portal. Two statues of an elf and angel, each holding one half of a sword. They both stood guarding the door from either side. Inscribed along the archway of the door appeared golden runes. They glowed and hummed as Sable approached them.

Calsoon moved a finger near one of the more closer runes, but quickly retracted his hand from a searing pain that ignited at the tip of his finger.

“Yow!” cried Calsoon as he favored his finger. “What do these runes say, Sable?”

The Runecarver hovered her hand just above the markings. She could feel the heat burn her skin. “They mark a ward.”

“Against who?” asked Calsoon, but he already gathered the answer.

Sable clenched her fist. “Against us.”

“Can you break them?” asked Calsoon.

Despite the warnings, Sable placed her hand directly on the runes and felt the powerful Magi push her hand away. No matter how much strength she used, she could not force her hand to stay on the door. “These runes are far more ancient and divine in nature than I am used to, but they were written by the Daybreak, I am sure of it.”

Calsoon melted into the shadows of the cave. He was gone only for a moment before he returned to Sable’s side. His face wrinkled with his frustration with the door’s magic. “I can sense something magnificent beyond this door, but I am severed from any shadow on the other side. I couldn’t imagine that even Master Wraslyn, with his infinite control over the shadows, would fare any better.”

“Your efforts are admired, dear Calsoon, but this portal can only be opened by a Daybreak.”

“A Daybreak? But we do not know any Daybreaks, or if any are still alive,” Calsoon said.

“I know of one,” Sable whispered with a smile. “But it will require your talents. Are you prepared to become a prisoner once more?”

Calsoon bowed. “My talents are always available for the Dead of Winter.”