The group staggered into the clearing, the vines and thorns behind them writhing as if displeased to have let them go. Elyra exhaled, pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. The air here was thick, the weight of the Archive pressing down like a silent observer.
Zara hissed, gripping her arm where a thorn had left a thin but deep scratch. "Tell me again why everything in this place wants to stab us?"
Thorne, already kneeling beside her, grunted. "It's the Archive. It reacts to disturbances, and we seem to be the latest ones." He pulled out a small tin, scooping a salve onto his fingers before applying it to Zara's wound. "Hold still."
Zara winced. "I am holding still."
Lira crouched beside them, her gaze fixed on the thorned passage behind them. "It's not just reacting to us. The thorns weren't random. They were guarding something."
Kael, still catching his breath, looked over at the Inking, which hovered anxiously near the edge of the clearing. It chirped twice, its tiny wings fluttering. "I think it knows what."
The group followed Kael's gaze to a flat stone slab partially buried beneath twisted roots. Faint carvings ran along its surface, too worn to read but still pulsing with a faint, golden glow.
Lira was the first to move, brushing away dirt and debris from the surface of the slab. The moment her fingers traced the etched symbols, the glow intensified, illuminating intricate lines and patterns that had been hidden before.
Elyra inhaled sharply. "That's not ordinary script."
Thorne stepped back instinctively. "Things that glow when they shouldn't tend to explode."
Lira shot him a dry look. "Not everything is a dwarven mining accident, Thorne."
Kael, still watching the Inking, noticed it chirping frantically, darting away from the slab before circling back. "Uh… it's really not a fan of this thing."
Elyra, curiosity overtaking caution, retrieved the page from the Celestial Codex and slowly brought it closer to the glowing slab. As soon as she did, the symbols shifted, rearranging themselves like puzzle pieces fitting into place.
A hum filled the air, deep and resonant, like the Archive itself had exhaled.
Lira's eyes widened. "This isn't just a marking… it's a lock."
Kael frowned. "A lock for what?"
The ground beneath them rumbled slightly, dust falling from above as if something, somewhere, had begun to wake up.
Elyra moved first, studying the shifting symbols as they pulsed and flickered. "It's forming a sequence," she murmured. "Something incomplete."
Lira adjusted her glasses. "A lock suggests a key. Maybe the Celestial Codex page isn't just triggering it. Maybe it's missing something."
Thorne crossed his arms. "Or it's a trap."
Kael studied the pattern of glowing symbols. The rhythm of their flickering reminded him of something—musical notation. "What if we don't need to force it open?" he suggested. "What if we have to complete it?"
Elyra's gaze snapped to him. "How?"
Kael hesitated, then began humming softly, trying to match the rhythm of the light's pulses. The symbols brightened, their flickering becoming more synchronized.
Zara arched an eyebrow. "Are you seriously trying to sing the door open?"
Before Kael could answer, the runes flashed as if in recognition. A low, grinding noise echoed through the chamber as the stone slab shifted slightly, revealing a hidden passageway beneath.
A deep tremor ran beneath their feet as the sigil fully illuminated, its once-random patterns aligning into a cohesive form. The grinding sound grew louder, stone scraping against stone, and then, with a final pulse of light, the slab cracked apart down the middle.
A dark, narrow staircase spiraled downward, disappearing into an abyss below. A gust of stale, cool air wafted up from the passage, carrying with it the scent of parchment and something else—something older, untouched for centuries.
The Inking let out a high-pitched chirp, fluttering away from the passage and retreating to Kael's shoulder. He frowned. "It really doesn't want us going down there."
Thorne sighed. "Smartest one of us all."
Before anyone could move, a sudden chill swept through the chamber. The torches lining the walls flickered violently, casting erratic shadows against the ancient stonework. Then, without warning, the air grew unnaturally still.
Kael shivered. "Does anyone else feel that?"
Then, at the far end of the chamber, something shifted. A figure stood at the edge of the flickering light, clad in a heavy, tattered cloak that seemed to absorb the glow around it. No footsteps had announced its arrival. It was simply... there.
Zara's hand went to her dagger instinctively. "Oh, fantastic. We have company."
A whisper—low, almost beneath hearing—slipped through the darkness. A voice like crumbling parchment, like the wind through forgotten corridors.
"You should not have come."
Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the presence was gone.
The torches sputtered weakly back to life, but the warmth they usually cast felt... thinner. Less real.
...
Lira swallowed hard. "That wasn't part of the Archive. That was something else."
Elyra let out a slow breath, her grip on Kael's arm still tight. "We need to move. Now."
Thorne took one last look at the passage before them, then at the empty space where the figure had been. "Yeah. I second that."
Zara crossed her arms. "Every time we touch something, the Archive throws another nightmare at us. Maybe we stop messing with it?"
Lira, still staring at the passage, murmured, "Except… it's not reacting to us. It's reacting to the pages."
Kael exhaled, the weight of those words settling over them. The Celestial Codex was changing the Archive. And whatever was waiting down there… it already knew they were coming.
With no other choice, they stepped forward, into the darkness.