The Flame Sanctum doors swung open, and Kaelen stopped at the entrance.
"Wrong."
She studied the chamber.
"This chamber is wrong."
Riven moved closer, chains scraping against stone.
"What troubles you?"
"Six podiums stood here when my mother died, broken and burnt."
Each crystal formation gleamed as she pointed.
"Now seven gleam with captured light."
This is where Mother made her final stand.
The chamber stretched higher than the tower's outer walls should allow.
"The binding crystals."
Councillor Frost announced behind them.
"Prepared specifically for this ritual."
Kaelen turned to face him.
He wants compliance. I want answers.
"Seven crystals, but only two participants. Explain."
The nearest formation pulsed with captured light—not creating power, but capturing and redirecting the Archive's magic.
"Deadly," Riven muttered.
Councillor Frost's fingers drummed against his leather bag.
"The remaining five will store excess magical energy for later distribution to qualified Council members."
"You mean theft."
"I mean survival."
The guards pushed them towards the central platform where two circles were carved into the stone—one surrounded by flame symbols, the other by ice.
"Positions."
Blackmere commanded.
"Stand in your respective circles. The binding runes will activate automatically."
The flame circle drew Kaelen forward, and her shackles heated with each step.
Growing hotter. Responding to something.
Riven stopped, his breath misting in the warming air.
"The crystal arrangement is wrong."
Councillor Frost straightened.
They did not expect this.
Ice patterns traced across the stone beneath Riven's boot.
"This arrangement channels power elsewhere, not to the sun-stone."
"To the sun-stone, obviously."
Blackmere's words carried forced confidence.
"No."
Riven gestured at the crystal angles.
"Look where they point. Look carefully."
Kaelen followed his gesture.
"Not upward towards the sun-stone overhead, but downward through the floor."
The pendant burned hot in her grip.
"The foundation chamber—the great crystal that powers the Archive."
Councillor Frost and Blackmere exchanged glances.
They did not know.
"Our source verified the specifications," Councillor Frost said, his fingers stopping their drumming.
"Your source lied."
Ice spread slowly across the floor as Riven waited.
"These crystals will overload the foundation crystal, and the energies will turn back upon themselves."
"Preposterous."
Blackmere tugged at his sleeve cuffs.
"The ritual proceeds as planned. We have prepared for months."
"Prepared for disaster."
Kaelen crouched to examine the carved circles, tracing the unfamiliar runes.
These symbols are wrong. All wrong.
"Transference circles. These are not meant to destroy the sun-stone."
Councillor Frost moved closer.
He wants to know what I see. I want to understand what Mother knew.
"What are they meant to do?"
"Transfer power to another realm entirely."
Her mother's research journal emerged from her robes, sketches flipping past.
"Council work does not look like this. I have seen similar crystals in the restricted texts—Shadowlands work."
Mother knew. She always knew.
"Preposterous."
Councillor Frost's face paled.
"This came from a verified Council source."
"Then your source works for the Shadowlands, or your source is not who you think."
. . .
The chamber doors burst open.
"Stop this immediately!"
High Senior Scribe Halden strode in, six Archive guards in gold armour at his back.
"I invoked emergency protocols. The High Council knows nothing of this ritual."
Finally. Someone who can stop this madness.
"Halden."
Councillor Frost's fingers resumed their drumming.
"You are interrupting authorised Council business."
Halden stopped at the platform's edge.
His eyes. Wrong colour.
Kaelen's pendant began to burn against her skin.
A warning. But of what?
"This equipment channels directly to Shadowlands magic."
He pointed at Blackmere's crystal sphere.
"You are preparing to drain the sun-stone's power to an outside source."
Blackmere lifted his chin.
"Crisis provisions do not require—"
"You approved these specifications yourself."
Councillor Frost gestured at the crystals.
"I watched you review every detail."
No. That cannot be right.
"That was me?"
A voice called from the doorway, and everyone turned to see another Halden standing there, identical down to the ink stains on his robes.
Councillor Frost backed away from the platform.
He did not know. None of them knew.
The second Halden smiled, and his form blurred at the edges.
"Your Council has been wonderfully cooperative—every vote, every preparation, every step towards this moment."
The Halden by the door raised his dagger.
Real Halden. That one is real.
"For months—"
"For months I have walked amongst you."
The Halden near the ritual crystals gestured.
"Building trust, learning weaknesses, preparing this betrayal."
Silver hair appeared where grey had been as the false Halden's features shifted, and his entire form changed.
Malachar. The shapeshifter from Mother's journal.
"Malachar."
The real Halden's words came fast.
"Release them immediately."
"Release them?"
Malachar's voice deepened, changed.
"They are my gifts to Lord Verrian—the final keeper of flame and master of ice."
Kaelen's flames sparked despite her shackles.
My magic. Fighting the binding runes.
Malachar began to fade, his form growing transparent.
"They shall serve perfectly in the true ceremony."
The real Halden advanced.
"Where?"
"Where the sun-stone was first forged, naturally. The Sundered Peaks have been calling your bloodline home."
The visions. He knows about my visions.
"Your bloodlines are the keys. Together, you can break what was bound."
Councillor Frost retreated toward the wall as the walls shook and shadow magic struck the alcoves.
The Sanctum's protective wards shattered.
Marble cracked.
The ritual circles sparked and went dark.
The chamber is collapsing.
Kaelen's shackles cracked as the spells failed, and her flame magic flooded back.
Freedom. Power.
Flames sparked across her hands.
Riven pushed ice magic through the weakened binding runes, and the metal shattered as ice formed wherever he gestured.
"The wards are collapsing."
Councillor Frost pressed against the wall.
"Redirecting," Malachar corrected as his form faded completely.
"This was merely preparation. The real work happens at the Sundered Peaks."
The mountains. Where the crystal was forged.
"Do not disappoint me, ice prince. Lord Verrian has such plans for you both."
Malachar's voice grew distant.
"Though your interference, old scribe, has forced adjustments to my timeline."
He is leaving. But this is not over.
Blackmere lunged forward, his hands grasping empty air.
Malachar was gone.
One of the gold-armoured guards ran to the doorway.
"The Sanctum's ward failure is cascading through the Archive's defences. Complete collapse within hours."
The real Halden shuffled his papers.
"The neighbouring kingdoms will sense the weakness immediately."
We are completely exposed now.
"He spared us deliberately."
Kaelen watched the space where Malachar had stood.
"Malachar could have killed everyone."
Ice spread across the floor in perfect patterns as Riven tested his restored magic.
"Because he needs us breathing. Your visions about the mountains—they are summons. The Sundered Peaks are calling you specifically."
Kaelen pulled out her mother's journal.
Mother's research held the answers.
"To complete the true binding ritual, where the sun-stone's power was first created."
The real Halden wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Where Verrian Dain's forces likely wait in prepared positions."
"Then we have until dawn."
Kaelen straightened.
"We reach the Peaks first."
"Absolutely not."
Halden stepped forward.
"Too dangerous."
"We have no other choice. Whatever sleeps in those peaks recognises my bloodline."
Ice crackled around Riven as he rolled his shoulders.
"We are the final survivors—the only living components to the Seven Houses binding."
Components. Always components for the binding ritual.
The dying flame held Councillor Frost's stare as the light faded.
"Then we evacuate the Archive. We abandon this place."
Kaelen approached him.
"The outer territories are frozen wastelands. The neighbouring kingdoms see us as invaders. Where exactly do we run?"
"She has a point," Blackmere said quietly.
As Archive guards assessed the damage, Riven moved closer to Kaelen, pretending to examine the ritual circles.
"There is another matter."
His whisper barely reached her.
"The Hollow Map."
She waited.
"Hidden in the Archive's deepest vaults. Charts from the Seven Houses era."
He glanced towards the guards, timing his words.
"Shows the true paths through the Peaks—routes they used for their most dangerous workings."
The pendant cooled against Kaelen's throat as she turned slightly towards him.
A map. A guide to help us survive what is coming.
"Without the Hollow Map, those mountains will kill us before we reach the summit."
The map. I have to find it.
Before the Council stops me.
"Kaelen."
The real Halden's voice cut sharp.
"Step away from him."
"I pose no threat."
The words came quiet from Riven.
The real Halden signalled the Archive guards.
"You remain in custody until we understand the depth of Malachar's deception. Return him to the secure cells."
Two guards moved towards Riven with enchanted restraints.
"The Hollow Map."
New shackles formed around Riven's wrists as he spoke urgently.
"Third vault, behind the Meridian Codex. Find it before dawn, or the mountain paths will shift with sunrise."
Halden moved between them.
"Remove him immediately."
The Hollow Map. I have to find it.
As they dragged Riven past her, he leaned close.
"The Peaks remember the old magic. Do not trust anyone else with this."
The doors slammed shut.
Alone again.
. . .
"We move at first light."
The real Halden turned to face the Council members.
"If Malachar reaches the Sundered Peaks before us, everyone dies—starting with the Archive."
Everyone dies. Unless I find that map.
Councillor Frost stared at the sealed doors.
"Malachar does not have the map to reach the Sundered Peaks. The Peaks are not just mountains that can be easily found."
"The Hollow Map."
Kaelen's whisper barely reached them.
Halden turned to her.
"You are not to go anywhere near the deep vaults. Too dangerous."
Mother's pages crumpled slightly in Kaelen's grip as Halden blocked her path.
"The Archive's foundations run deep, child—bindings that sleep better left undisturbed."
Kaelen met his stare.
"The kind that predate the Archive itself, deeper than any of us fully understand."
He turned to Councillor Frost and Blackmere.
"By my authority as High Senior Scribe, I hereby strip all lower council members of your right to restricted materials. Your access is revoked until further notice."
Councillor Frost advanced.
He wants power back. Halden wants control.
"You cannot—"
"I can and I have. Your judgement has been compromised by shapeshifter manipulation."
The pendant cooled slightly.
Finally. Someone taking control.
Someone who might actually know what they are doing.
"The ward collapse runs deeper than broken stones."
Halden added.
Blackmere moved towards the door. Outside, alarm bells began ringing across the Archive.
Halden gestured to two Archive guards.
They appeared at Kaelen's side.
"Senior Scribe Virelle?"
One asked.
"Halden orders us to escort you to secure chambers."
Secure chambers. Or prison.
The pendant remained neutral—neither warm nor cold.
"Where?" she asked.
"The lower vaults, until the Council determines next steps."
The lower vaults.
Where the Hollow Map waited.
Kaelen glanced back at the shattered Sanctum—where Malachar revealed his deception, where everything changed.
The guards escorted her down spiral stairs, down past storage chambers and forgotten rooms, down to where the Archive's real secrets waited.
Sub-level three, exactly where Riven told her the Hollow Map would be.
Ahead, the Red Door stood in the corridor—sealed for twenty years according to Archive records.
It hung open.
Golden light poured from inside, steady and unwavering.
That should not be possible.
"That should be sealed," one guard said.
The other drew his sword.
"Someone is already inside."
Inside the sealed room.
Inside where no one should be.
Where someone has been waiting.
. . .
End of Chapter 6
. . .
Next Chapter Preview: The Map Vault
With the Archive's wards collapsing and enemies closing in, Kaelen finds herself escorted to the forbidden lower vaults—exactly where Riven told her to find the crucial Hollow Map. But the Red Door that has been sealed for twenty years now hangs mysteriously open, and inside waits someone who was supposed to be dead. As golden light erupts from the depths and pierces the night sky, Kaelen must choose between following orders or embracing a destiny that will alert every enemy for miles around.