Kael walks beside me, one hand brushing my lower back. Protective. Steadying. Which, honestly, I need, because this place? It’s straight out of a fantasy novel. A creepy, majestic, very possibly haunted fantasy novel.
“I don’t get it,” I mutter, running my hand across a dusty ledge. “If this place has been hidden for centuries, how the fuck does it look like this? Like… like someone was here yesterday.”
He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is roving the space, tense but calculating. “Some energy fields are self-sustaining. If it’s bonded to ancient Glowranth sigils… time might not move here the same way.”
I blink at him. “Okay, Gandalf.”
He smirks. “You said you wanted treasure hunting.”
“Yeah, I was thinking more Indiana Jones and less ‘cursedLabyrinthmeetsStranger Things.’” Still, my fingers tingle. The bond hums between us, reacting to the energy like it’s recognising something in the air. Something important.
We walk deeper.
A massive table—no, altar—sits at the centre of the space. Books and scrolls are scattered across it in a way that feels less forgotten and more left mid-research. Kael’s hand tightens on mine.
“This is it,” he murmurs. “Someone’s been here.”
That jolts through me like a shock. “Wait. Like recently?”
He crouches, fingers skimming one of the scrolls. A smear of red—dried blood, fresh enough that it hasn’t turned black—edges the parchment.
“I don’t like this,” I say immediately. “Who the fuck was bleeding down here, and why does it feel like the beginning of a horror movie?”
Kael stands, his eyes scanning. “I think we’re alone.”
Before I can fully spiral, my gaze snags on a worn leatherbound tome tucked beneath a stone weight. I lift it carefully, coughing as dust clouds up in a plume. The cover is marked with the same symbol that shimmered on the floor beneath Kael—the same pattern that’s still faintly glowing on my arm.
I crack it open.
The pages are handwritten in neat but archaic Glowranthian. I recognise some of it, not because I’m fluent—please, I’m still trying to master rolling myR’s—but apparently my kick-arse bond with Kael comes with special privileges. Enough to catch phrases like:
Bonded energy transfer—accelerated healing, transmutation, life-for-life preservation.
I look up. “Kael,” I say hoarsely. “I think this is it.”
He’s beside me in an instant, eyes scanning the page, his breath catching. “It speaks of what the prince has done.”
“And what I did for you,” I whisper, my voice suddenly too small in this huge, ancient room.
We share a look. The weight of what we’ve found is slowly dawning.
There’s a rustle behind us. My heart slams into my throat—but it’s just air shifting. Or… maybe not just air. The sigils on the far wall flicker to life, casting the whole room in soft golden light.
“Okay,” I breathe, clutching the book. “Let’s keep going. I’ve got a good feeling about this.” It doesn’t mean I’m not still creeped out, but I’m trying on the whole “stay positive” vibe.
Kael nods, the tension in his jaw easing just enough to let the faintest smile through. “Together,” he says.
“Always.”
We step deeper into the library and work in near silence, my fingers brushing against ancient bindings, rough parchment, and the occasional scroll so brittle, I’m terrified to breathe near it.
He reads quietly for a few moments more before he finally speaks, voice low and deliberate. “I think I found something.”
I straighten. “Please say it’s not a story about Glowranth mating with space dragons or whatever.”
Kael tilts the book slightly, showing me an illustration—faded, almost erased by time. It’s a crude figure surrounded by what looks like swirling shards, stepping through a tear in the sky.
The title beneath it readsThe First Breach of Terrafeara.
