A few days had passed, and Cian remained heartbroken, unable to do much of anything. Grief weighed him down like a heavy blanket, suffocating and endless.

When the day of his parents’ funeral arrived, he managed to stand, though the effort felt impossible. After the service, Logan and Sam approached him for the first time in almost a week.

“Cian,” Logan started softly, but Cian turned away. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, choosing to handle his pain in solitude. But Logan didn’t stop. He wrapped his strong arms around Cian, holding him tightly, while Sam joined in from behind.

Tears streamed silently down Cian’s cheeks. The only feeling he could name was sadness—a deep, unshakable loss.

Later, Sam brought them all back to her house. Cian lay in Logan’s lap, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t move, barely spoke, just existing in the moment.

“What are you thinking?” Sam asked cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb him.

“What move I should make next,” Cian replied, his voice low, tinged with anger. “I have a lot on my chest… basically the whole universe.”

Sam hesitated. “Oh. Well… maybe we should go back to your house and grab that key and the book your dad mentioned?”

Cian’s gaze shifted, but his eyes remained distant. “Maybe. The house just feels… different now. All the warmth, love, and comfort are gone.”

Sam nodded, understanding. “If you want, Logan and I can grab them for you. You can stay here, watch some TV. Remember, you’re always welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Cian sighed deeply. “Thanks, but no. Let’s just do it. I know where they are. But… one thing that’s weird is that nothing else has happened.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, idly running his fingers through Cian’s hair. “That is weird.”

Sam leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees. “Maybe they’re waiting. Maybe they want you to find them.”

“Or… it’s something else,” Cian muttered. “I still haven’t looked at the letter.”

“Open it,” Sam said firmly, her tone sharper than before.

Cian hesitated, then slowly reached for his bag, pulling out the crumpled envelope. He tore it open carefully, his heart pounding. The words on the page sent a chill down his spine.

---

Dear Cian,

We’ve been watching you.

Your precious family thought they could hide forever, but the Bloodworth legacy has always belonged to chaos, and chaos always finds a way. Did you truly believe your parents could protect you? That they could shield the secrets of Obscura Sanctum from us?

Leah is safe—for now. How long that remains true is up to you.

The key to her survival lies in your hands, as does the future of your family’s magic. We’ve waited generations for this moment, for the Bloodworths to falter, and now here you are: alone, desperate, and untrained.

Come find us, Cian. Face the chaos you claim to command. But tread carefully—chaos does not choose sides. It simply consumes.

Tick tock. Time is slipping away.

Yours in shadow and flame,

Nyx Ashthorne

P.S. The key is where they hid their greatest lie.

---

Fear and shock filled the room as Cian crumpled the letter, his chest heaving. Sparks of purple magic flickered across his fingertips, spreading wildly before striking a nearby plant. The plant vanished into thin air.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam screamed, her face white as a sheet.

Logan’s jaw dropped, but he didn’t move. “Wow.”

Cian stared at his hands, his breathing unsteady. 

“So I do have magical powers. Low-key feels like I’m in a movie…” His voice trailed off before his expression hardened.

 “But this isn’t a movie. We need that key and the book. I need to get to Obscura Sanctum. My dad said there’s someone there who can help me.”

Sam nodded slowly, still processing. “Right. And if we’re a coven, does that mean Logan and I have powers too?”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “If we do… my parents would know, right?”

Cian glanced between them, his hands curling into fists. “I don’t know what any of this means yet. But if Nyx Ashthorne wants me to find her… I will.”

The room fell silent, the tension thick as they braced for the unknown. 

Cian got up and starts to walk to his dad office, as he is walking he see the photos of him and Cian got up, brushing the blanket off his lap, and started toward his father’s office. His steps were slow, each one feeling heavier as he passed the photos lining the hallway walls. Each picture captured a moment of joy—a family trip, his parents’ anniversary, a goofy childhood pose.

He paused in front of one photo, his hand hesitating near the glass. It was a picture of him and Leah as kids, sitting on their dad’s shoulders while their mom laughed beside them. His throat tightened. They were gone. All of them, in one way or another.

Something about the photo seemed off—almost as if the shadows were shifting—but before he could look closer, Logan’s voice broke the silence.

“Hey,” Logan said gently, stepping up beside him. “You good? I know these are… hard to look at.”

Cian blinked and nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah. I’m alright. Come on, my dad’s office is just down here.”

When they reached the office, Cian hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. The scent of old leather and faint cologne lingered, making his stomach twist with a bittersweet ache. His father had always kept this room immaculate, but now, dust settled over the desk and shelves like an unwelcome guest.

“Okay,” Cian said, more to himself than anyone else. “He said something about a panel. But first—where’s the key?”

He crouched by the desk and pulled open the left drawer. Inside, the key lay undisturbed, coated in a thin layer of dust. He blew it off, the particles swirling in the air, and picked it up, the cold metal surprisingly heavy in his hand.

“Got it,” he said, standing. “Now, let’s look for that book.”

Logan nodded, scanning the shelves while Cian started opening drawers. The sound of wood scraping against wood filled the room.

Suddenly, Sam burst in, her face pale and her breathing uneven.

“WE HAVE TO FIND THAT BOOK. NOW,” she said, her voice sharp and edged with fear.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Logan asked, startled by her tone.

“I don’t know, but I just—I have this feeling, okay? Like, if we don’t find it right now, something bad is going to happen,” Sam replied, her wide eyes darting around the room.

Cian swallowed hard and nodded. “Alright, let’s focus.”

Minutes passed as they scoured the office. Sam frantically pushed papers aside on a shelf, then froze. Her gaze locked onto a small chair tucked in the corner. She moved it aside, revealing a keyhole embedded in the floor.

“Here!” she said, motioning for Cian.

Cian stepped forward, the key trembling slightly in his hand. Logan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, grounding him. Taking a deep breath, Cian knelt and slid the key into the lock.

The click echoed loudly in the small room, followed by a soft hum. Slowly, Cian pulled the hidden panel open, revealing a small compartment. Inside lay a single, ancient book bound in black leather, its surface etched with intricate red runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light.

“The Codex of Chaos,” Cian whispered, his fingers brushing the cover. The air around them felt heavier, almost alive.

Sam and Logan exchanged a glance, both unsure whether to be relieved or terrified.

“Well,” Logan said, his voice low but steady. “I guess this is where things get real.”

Cian carefully lifted the book, its weight somehow feeling far greater than it should. “They’ve been real for a while,” he murmured. “Now… it’s just beginning.”