The glow from the relic on my wrist had dimmed slightly, but the pulse remained, faint and steady, like a small heartbeat beneath my skin.
Jax and Zack were on watch at the entrances, ensuring no one interrupted our work. Hazel examined the other relics, placing some aside while jotting notes in a small notebook.
I sat cross-legged in the vault, a stack of my mother’s journals and scrolls around me. Dust hung in the air, and every turn of a page sent the faint scent of old parchment and herbs drifting up…comforting and unsettling at once.
“These are incredible.” I whispered, tracing faded lines of ink. “She recorded everything… about the Door, Crescent Vale, the family.”
Hazel leaned over, adjusting her flashlight. “She was thorough. Every generation left something here…warnings, ritua
