The dawn was breaking as Lucian, Aveline, and Elijah stood before the ruins of Blackthorn Abbey. The ancient structure loomed like a ghost from the past, its walls cracked and weathered, and its once-grand windows reduced to jagged shards of stained glass. Aveline felt a chill run down her spine.

"This is the place, isn't it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.