The road to the Archives was not made of stone or dirt but memory. Only those who had stood at the threshold of unbearable truth could even see it—let alone walk it. Elara knew this because she had read it in the journal her mother left behind, the one she wasn't supposed to have.
The trio had traveled for two days, sleeping in ruins and moving under starlight. Kael remained silent most of the journey, his jaw tight and eyes scanning the woods as if he expected the creature to burst through the trees at any moment. Elisia, surprisingly subdued, spoke only when spoken to and spent much of the journey staring into her palms like she was trying to read her future there.
Elara kept her focus ahead, where the trees grew in twisted rows and the air began to shimmer with ancient magic. The path was close.
They came to a clearing just before dusk. In the center stood a single obsidian pillar, covered in glowing runes that pulsed with slow, steady light. No building surrounded it. No doors, no guards. Just the pillar and the silence.
"This is it?" Elisia asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.
"It is," Elara said.
Kael exhaled sharply. "Then go ahead. Say the vow."
Elara stepped forward and placed her hand on the pillar. The runes lit up instantly, then began to rearrange, forming words in an ancient script that shimmered gold. The language of the First Tongue—the original mages.
She closed her eyes and let the words come, not from memory, but instinct. Her blood carried the language, just as it carried the legacy of her mother.
"I stand before the Archives not in pride but need. I seek the truth, not for power but for purpose. I offer not my strength, but my honesty. I vow never to cloak truth in shadow nor twist it into chains. In light and flame, I bind myself. Let the Mark be given."
The pillar flared, and a bolt of golden energy surged from its peak into Elara's chest. She staggered backward, gasping. Her body felt aflame, her tongue thick with the weight of the vow. Pain radiated across her sternum, and when she looked down, the glowing mark of a circle surrounded by thorns and eyes had embedded itself over her heart.
"By the old gods," Kael whispered.
Elisia's eyes were wide. "You really did it..."
Elara clenched her teeth and nodded. "Now the Archives will let us in."
A rumble shook the ground. The space between the trees warped like a mirage, and then the illusion vanished, revealing an enormous door carved into the mountainside, hidden from sight until the vow was spoken.
The Archives of Velmara.
They approached the doors slowly. Two guards stood outside, not made of flesh and bone, but of enchanted stone—golems powered by the soul-flames of long-dead seers. They opened the gates without a word, acknowledging the mark glowing on Elara's chest.
Inside, the air was cool and thick with magic. Endless shelves spiraled upward, stacked with scrolls and tomes older than any kingdom. The Archives didn't follow the laws of space or time. It was said that if you searched long enough, you could find memories that hadn't happened yet.
A tall figure in white robes floated down from one of the higher platforms, descending without stairs. His face was unreadable beneath his hood, and his eyes glowed with blue light.
"Elara Valemire," he intoned. "Bearer of the Mark. State your purpose."
"To find the binding spell used to seal the creature known as Umbriel," she said, her voice echoing strangely.
The Archivist paused. "That name has not been spoken in a thousand years."
"We've seen it," Kael said. "It has returned."
The Archivist studied them each in turn. "You are not the first to come seeking power. Nor the first to awaken what should have remained forgotten."
"I didn't mean to—" Elisia started, but Elara raised a hand.
"We're not here to justify mistakes," she said. "We're here to correct them."
The Archivist turned. "Follow me."
He led them deeper into the Archives, past walls made of obsidian glass and glowing ink. They descended what felt like hundreds of levels until they came to a vault sealed with seven locks.
The Archivist pressed his palm to the first, and the runes began to melt away.
"Only a bearer of the Mark may open this vault," he said. "And only if they understand the cost."
"What cost?" Elara asked, wary.
"To seal Umbriel once more, a soul must be offered in balance," he said, his voice like wind through bones. "Not just any soul—but one bound by blood to the one who awakened it."
Elara's heart clenched. "No..."
Elisia looked up. "It has to be me."
"No!" Elara turned to her, eyes wide. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't," the Archivist said. "This spell was crafted by the Mother of Silence herself. It demands balance. The one who broke the veil must pay the price."
Kael stepped forward. "That's madness. There must be another binding method—one that doesn't require sacrifice."
The Archivist shook his head. "You may search, but the clock ticks. Even now, Umbriel grows stronger."
Elisia's voice was soft. "Maybe this is what I deserve."
"Don't you dare," Elara said, grabbing her sister by the shoulders. "Don't you ever say that again."
"I did this, Elara. I opened the veil. I called to it."
"You were trying to save our mother!"
"And I may have doomed a thousand others," Elisia whispered, eyes wet.
Elara hugged her tightly, burying her face in her sister's hair. "You're all I have left."
The vault door clicked open with a final hiss, revealing a narrow chamber filled with floating symbols and a single spellbook made of woven silver leaves.
Elara stepped inside and took the book. It pulsed in her hands, warm and cold at once.
The words glowed as she read:
"To seal the void, offer the blood that opened it.
To mend the wound, let one heart still.
Balance is the gate. Sacrifice the key."
Kael's jaw tightened. "We need a new plan."
"We don't have time," Elisia said. "Let me do this, Elara."
"No," Elara said again, but her voice wavered.
Kael placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find another way. Even if we have to tear down the heavens."
The Archivist turned away. "I have shown you what you asked. The rest is up to you."
They left the vault in silence, the book heavy in Elara's hands and the weight of the coming decision crushing her chest. Outside the Archives, the forest had gone still—too still.
The sky had turned blood red.
Umbriel was on the move.