Ahce's POV
The air inside the hut thickened as the carvings on the table dimmed, leaving only the faint glow of a single object at the corner, an ancient-looking book, half-buried beneath a layer of dust.
Something about it pulled me in, as if invisible threads of energy were coiling around my wrists, urging me closer. I reached out, hesitant at first, then brushed away the dust. The cover was rough, the leather cracked and scarred by time. And at the center, engraved in faded gold, was a name that made my breath hitch.
"Archmage Devon Albert."
The moment I whispered it aloud, the air trembled, a low vibration rippling through the floorboards and up my arms. The name itself seemed alive, resonating deep inside my chest.
