The sanctuary had a way of quieting thoughts.
Asher noticed it most when he woke. No lingering dread. No sharp pull in his chest. Just the soft echo of wind brushing against stone and distant bells humming somewhere deep within the mountain.
For a moment, he forgot why he was there.
Then he remembered everything.
He sat up slowly, fingers brushing the locket at his chest. It was warm again — not burning, not warning — simply present, as if listening.
Lucian stood near the open archway, watching the valley below. Morning light traced the sharp lines of his profile, softening what centuries had hardened.
"You didn't sleep much," Asher said.
Lucian glanced back. "Old habits."
Asher swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Or old memories."
Lucian didn't correct him.
They walked the inner halls together later, guided by the Keeper's quiet presence. Symbols lined the walls — faded carvings of moons, bloodlines, and figures standing at the crossroads between light and shadow.
"This place records truth," the Keeper explained. "Not prophecy. Not fear. Only what has already been lived."
She stopped before a shallow stone basin filled with clear water.
"Blood remembers," she said, turning to Asher. "Touch it."
Asher hesitated, then knelt and dipped his fingers into the water.
The world shifted.
Not violently — gently.
Images surfaced like reflections: a woman with dark hair and calm eyes — **Amara** — standing beneath the same moonlight that now watched Asher. Her hand rested over her heart, a familiar locket glowing faintly against her skin.
She wasn't afraid.
"She chose balance," the Keeper's voice echoed. "Not domination. Not surrender."
The vision changed — Council chambers, raised voices, fear masquerading as authority.
"They called her dangerous," Lucian said quietly. "Because she refused to be controlled."
Asher pulled his hand back, breath unsteady. "She was my ancestor."
"Yes," the Keeper replied. "And the blood you carry is not a curse. It is an echo of her choice."
Asher looked down at his hands. "Then why does everyone keep trying to stop it?"
Lucian answered before the Keeper could. "Because balance threatens power."
Silence followed — thoughtful, heavy, but no longer frightening.
Later, as they stood alone again, Asher turned to Lucian. "You didn't stop her back then."
"No," Lucian admitted. "I watched. And when the Council acted, I failed to intervene."
Asher studied him. "That's why you stayed this time."
Lucian met his gaze. "Yes."
Asher stepped closer. "Then don't watch again."
Lucian's breath caught — just slightly. "I won't."
The locket pulsed once, soft and steady, like agreement.
Outside, clouds gathered around the peaks, but sunlight still broke through.
The past had spoken.
Now, the future would answer.
To be continued...