I wasn't searching anymore.
I was being pulled.
Something tugged at me, quiet, patient, like a thread of fate wound tight around my chest.
I didn't resist the feeling but followed it instead.
The vault had thousands of artefacts. Each one was stored in hex-sealed containers, floating glyph boxes, or heavy rune-inscribed stone slabs. But this one? It was hidden.
Behind one of the false walls that looked like stacked tomes, the air shimmered for just a second longer.
Mana distortion.
I narrowed my eyes and pushed my hand through it.
The illusion melted instantly, revealing a small shelf, untouched by time, cloaked in pure, static magic. A single scroll floated mid-air, held by invisible energy, bound in threads of violet string and sealed with the mark of a broken crown.
My throat tightened.
I didn't recognise the seal, but I knew it.
I had seen it, in the dreams, etched into the Hollow King's throne.
