Chapter 45: The Vault of the First Spell
Deep beneath the Magistery's central tower, where light bent unnaturally and time ran like oil through hourglass veins, the Vault of the First Spell stirred.
No mortal had set foot inside since the Age of Ash. It was said to be the resting place of the Primordial Codex—the first spell ever woven into the world's fabric by the gods themselves. Even the most powerful Sages feared the Vault. To enter was to risk madness. To read from the Codex was to brush against creation itself.
But tonight, the Vault's doors trembled.
And something within… whispered.
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Above, Ryan Magus stood at the edge of the Sanctum's altar chamber, watching as an army of masked mages channeled binding spells into the floor.
"Are you certain the Vault is destabilizing?" he asked.
Beside him, a cloaked figure nodded—Archsage Melan, an ancient being whose body was more rune than flesh. "The aether threads unravel, my lord. The barrier won't hold another season."
Ryan's fingers curled tighter around his staff.
Then a voice—his mother's—echoed in his mind.
> "If the Luther girl brings Eclipsion to full strength, even the gods may not stop her. But the Codex… that might."
He exhaled.
"Prepare the containment wards," he ordered. "If the Vault opens, it opens to me."
---
Meanwhile, hundreds of leagues west, Jean sat in silent meditation beneath the moonlit shrine of Celeste, built on the highest cliff of the Luther mountains.
The blade Eclipsion rested across her lap, glowing faintly even while she slept.
Inside her dream, she stood in an endless field of white flowers.
And there, a woman waited—Celeste herself, the goddess of light, clothed in radiant silks, her silver eyes mournful.
"Jean," Celeste said softly, "you walk a path few can survive."
Jean looked up. "Is this about the Magistery?"
Celeste shook her head.
"It's about the Codex."
Jean's heart skipped.
"The Vault of the First Spell will soon awaken," the goddess continued. "And the Magistery will try to claim its power. If they succeed… nothing in this world—not Luther steel, not even your divine light—will stand against them."
Jean swallowed hard. "Then what must I do?"
Celeste stepped forward, reaching out.
"You must go to the Vault. You must enter it first. And you must decide whether that power should remain sealed—or be used."
Jean hesitated.
"What happens if I choose wrong?"
Celeste's smile faded.
"Then the world burns… by your hand."
---
Jean awoke with a gasp, the sunrise spilling gold over the mountains.
Silvia stood in the doorway, already armored, gaze serious.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" Silvia asked.
Jean rose, sword in hand. "The Vault. It's waking."
Whitney growled softly, fur bristling.
"Then we have no time," Silvia said. "The Magistery won't wait."
Jean nodded.
"Then we go east. To the Vault."
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