The map copied from the memory crystal led the group north of Zaffiro, into a series of canyons that spanned for several kilometers in all directions. While it had specified that Luce Vera had existed atop the central peak, it included no information about where to access the city’s buried remains. Further records that Jakea had retrieved from the memory crystal indicated that an entrance to the entombed city existed somewhere along the foot of the mountain but neglected to mention its exact location. This complicated matters further as the central peak was thirty-eight kilometers around. The caravan had spent almost three days searching for it but had been unsuccessful in doing so.

During the days, Doug and Betty would take turns searching the mountainside while the others would stay at the caravan to conduct magic lessons. Every evening, it would move a mile or so farther along the mountainside as the search continued.

The two elder Sages had made their lessons as rigorous and frustrating as they possibly could. Lola’s first unofficial lesson was a small healing spell taught to her and Venice by Jakea the day they departed Zaffiro, which had been the easiest to learn. Both Doug and Betty’s lessons required tests of mental and physical discipline to master the techniques they were teaching. Sam, Sants, and Jakea had little issue with the tasks given and were quick to master them; the rest of the group was not quite so lucky.

The morning’s lesson began with Betty setting up a table outside and conspicuously handing out apples to every one of the fledgling Sages present, giving only the instruction to freeze it solid. While the others struggled by their own accord, Lola had sat face-to-face with her apple for almost an hour, focusing intently upon it in hopes that she would figure out how to use the lesson’s spell. "Is there anything here I’m supposed to be doing that I’m not?" the Buhund inquired from the others.

A loud thwack thundered behind her. She jumped. "Each Sage conducts their chi differently, cher. You’re supposed’to figure out this spell for yerself," Betty scolded.

Lola huffed as she turned back to her apple. "I’ve been looking at this thing since sunrise," she griped. "Can’t I at least get a hint?"

The sound of loud crunching echoed from nearby, prompting her to turn her head. Wesley was in the process of eating the apple Betty had given him to practice on. "You knucklehead!" the elder Sage fumed. "Can’t you take this seriously?"

He shrugged. "I like apples."

"You’re supposed’to be learnin’ how to use your magic to freeze things, not havin’ yerself a second breakfast!" she bellowed.

The former soldier scowled at her, tightening his grip around the apple in his hand. He turned and threw it against the adjacent mountainside. It shattered like glass upon impact. "Happy?" he asked.

"Kinda. You got the spell down, but yer attitude needs some work," Betty replied.

"At least somebody got it," Lola sighed.

She turned back to her apple. "C’mon, freeze," the dog pleaded. "Chill out! Glaceous! Frossian!"

Venice let out a groan as he looked up from his apple. "You’re just speaking gibberish," he grumbled.

"Got it!" Aurora announced boisterously.

Everyone turned to see a frosted-over apple sitting in front of the musician. "All I had to do was play a cool melody," she explained. "Then the apple did the rest."

"I guess all of your magic comes from your music," Rook pondered out loud without taking his eyes off his apple.

The rooster flapped his left wing, directing a soft breeze toward the fruit in front of him. Sparkling white frost began washing over its surface. "There we go."

Venice took hold of the apple in front of him. "It looks as if I’m never going to figure this out," he wearied.

Amah peeked her head out from inside the caravan, a tray holding a set of teacups and a kettle in her hands. "You shouldn’t be so hard on yourselves," the Sun Spirit reassured them. "Magic takes a great deal of time and discipline to master."

There was a loud pop before she began down the caravan’s stairs. Venice now held a husk resembling an apple in his hand. Steaming hot mush covered his face and his hair. He let out a soft yelp before attempting to clear the fruit innards from his face with his hands. "I said freeze, not boil," Betty remarked.

"Oy!" Doug’s voice echoed from a distance away.

Everyone’s attention turned to the approaching elder Sage. He appeared to be running back to the caravan as quickly as he could, Emma doing her best to keep up with him. "Was Emma any help?" Betty called back.

The old Sage slowed his approach as he got closer. "She certainly was," he panted. "I think we’ve found a way down to the ruins."

Lola’s ears stood at attention. "You have?" she questioned.

Doug stopped for a few seconds, gasping to catch his breath. "Emma managed to dig up what I can only figure to be a doorway," he explained. "I used a seismic sense spell to get a vague map of the passage behind it. It leads almost two kilometers underground, with no instabilities or hazards."

"Did ya remember to mark where it is?" Betty wondered.

"Of course I did!" Doug defended. "I planted a big red tulip by it. This canyon soil can’t keep them alive, but it should last for a day or so."

"Which gives us plenty of time to move the caravan to it," Amah concluded. "Good thinking, Rose."

Sam let out a heavy garble from across the table. "Roaron."

Doug shook his head. "Anyhow, get everyone back in. We’ve gotta get going," he ordered.

#

After a short ride, the caravan pulled up along a scrap of mountainside overshadowed by a canopy of jagged rocks in the wall above. At the very foot, the cliffside indented into a shallow nook that framed an old double doorway of grey stone. They stood one and a quarter the height of an average human. As Doug had said, a large red tulip was in bloom a few meters away from it, although it had already begun to wilt noticeably. Lola was the first to make her way out of the caravan and to the doors, curiously sniffing them. They carried a damp, pungent scent.

She could hear soft footsteps descending from the vehicle behind her. "Looks heavy," Wesley remarked. "How’re we gonna get it open?"

Doug hobbled out of the front of the caravan. "First things first," he insisted. "We need to puzzle out who’s staying here. It’d be completely daft to leave the caravan unguarded."

Betty had already made her way down the stairs of the caravan’s rear car. "I’ll take care of that," she volunteered. "Never really cared for underground spaces anyhow. You takin’ Emma with you again?"

The large mutt poked her head out of the rear car at the mention of her name. "I don’t know if we’ll need her," the old man murmured. "If anything, her only use would be as a walking shield."

Everyone—save for Betty, Jakea, Amah, and Uzhu—instantaneously met Doug with a confused and concerned glance. "She’s sorcerially oblivious: no magic can touch her … be it good or evil, harmful or helpful," he explained defensively. "Given the Luce Verans’ penchant for magic and magical technologies, we might have a few hazards down there that’d bounce off of Emma completely."

"I guess that’d be handy to have," Lola remarked.

Emma hopped down from the rear car, skipping the stairs entirely. As she thudded to the ground in a small cloud of dust, Uzhu stepped around her and made her way back up the stairs.

"I’ll remain here with Miss Souci, if that’s all right," the festival Spirit imparted.

"With me, Danniverd, and that one cat Rose has snoozing around somewhere yer in for a real party, cher," Betty rejoined, as unenthusiastically as she could. "One thing before you bunch get on yer way."

She raised her cane, twirling the tip in midair. A set of glowing magenta orbs sprouted from its tip, homing in on everyone present in front of the ruins’ entrance. The one closing in on Lola landed on the side of her collar, a small pink flower with countless petals materializing where it landed. Tendrils and leaves gently latched onto the collar’s material, securing it in place. As she looked up from the blossom, she noticed that everyone was now equipped with the same flower in one way or another. "What are these for?" Lola questioned.

"They’re florist’s chrysanthemum … one of only a few species of plants that actively filter the air," Betty offered. "I’ve enchanted them to enhance their abilities, but they’ll keep you kids alive and breathing underground. If those ruins have been sealed for six centuries, I reckon the air down there must be stagnant and darn near toxic. You be safe now!"

The matron turned about-face and started back up the stairs to the caravan’s rear car. "That reminds me," Venice began. "What will we do for light down there?"

Doug rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. A glowing orb of yellow light materialized over the head of everyone present. "Mana torches. They’ll last us a few hours before I have to cast the spell again. Now let’s stop dawdling around and get going. Jakea, get the door."

With an uneasy sigh, the young woman approached the doorway. "If you two could open up for us, we’d greatly appreciate it," she told the doors.

The doors stood silent. "That wasn’t very effective," Carter remarked.

With a loud rumbling, both doors swung inward, opening the passageway. "I take that back," he amended.

Doug walked ahead of the group and down into the opening, motioning for everyone to follow him as he strode. A few moments and several paces later the daylight from the entrance disappeared entirely behind them. The pathway the cavern created was uneven, twisting and turning unexpectedly while seemingly unable to make up its mind if the footing it provided was a simple incline or hazardously steep. Lola had tripped several times as they trekked downward. A dank and acrid scent occasionally reached her nose, a result of tiny bits of rotten air escaping filtration by the flower secured to her collar.

The concept of time seemed to escape her as they continued on. A sickly orange tint cast across the cavern by the mana torches reminded the Buhund of the days before she and Venice had left their little cottage in the forest. During the days of the Empty Sky time seemed to be a detached concept as well, yet she could at the very least measure the days and sometimes the hours. She pondered why in this situation it seemed as if the concept itself had disappeared. The fact that everyone present had remained silent since they began down the passage probably wasn’t helping.

As her feet touched down upon a level slab of cobblestone, she immediately snapped out of her trance and time returned. She looked ahead to see ruined streets and buildings that spanned for miles ahead, illuminated by the light of the groups’ torches. From a single glance anyone could tell what lay ahead was once a prosperous and expansive city, even with a majority of it crumbled and torn asunder. Great towers that once touched the sky itself stood at an incline, sinking farther into the ground beyond the cavern. Streets of granite brick and cobblestone were now fragmented and strewn about so that they lead nowhere. "Such a shame, isn’t it?" Doug pondered.

The Buhund turned to him. "What is?"

"That a city so advanced for its time be sealed underground and forgotten," he answered.

Venice finished making his way down the final step of the slope. "So where do we begin looking? I don’t know if you’ve failed to notice, but this city is enormous … ruined or not."

"Simmer down, boy," the elder Sage replied. "We did manage to get a little more than a map from the Zaffiran library."

The old man nodded to Aurora, who retrieved a small slip of paper from her pocket. "During the Renaissance of Terran civilization, the Luce Verans housed many powerful items within a sealed chamber located in the city’s Palazzo," she read from it.

Raising her arm, she pointed to a large palace-like structure in the distance. As the group turned their eyes toward the complex, a tower on the far-left side of it suddenly crumbled and fell to the ground below.

"Great," Lola remarked. "Let’s hope it wasn’t in there."

Rook fluttered up from the ground and onto Aurora’s shoulder. "Lucky for us, it’s in the Palazzo’s basement," he divulged.

"Of course it is," the Buhund replied. "What is it with humans and burying their stuff underground?"

Emma and Sam huffed loudly in agreement with her comment. "Enough instigating. Get to walking," Carter grumbled as he marched ahead.

With a shrug, Doug turned from the group and walked as fast as he could to catch up with the former soldier. The remainder of the group followed behind him, rushing to keep up.

In a moment of impatience, Lola ran ahead of the group, taking off in an unnatural burst of speed. The city around her became a blur as she closed in on the distant Palazzo, screeching to a halt barely a hair from its front archway. A quick glance back showed that the group was still a far way away from her. "Lola! Don’t go wandering off by yourself," Venice scolded from a distance.

She scoffed and turned back to the entryway, carelessly trotting inside. The corridor flickered yellow and orange as the mana torch above her head lit it up. A set of footsteps echoed beside her, causing her ears to stand at attention as her eyes darted to the source of the sound. Sants was standing less than a meter away from her. "Oh, it’s you," she sighed in relief. "You shouldn’t sneak up on folks like that."

Unconcerned by his presence, the Buhund continued down the front corridor. The tabby matched her walking speed. "Is unwise for you to go further without others," he advised in a deep voice. "Best to wait until they catch up."

Lola froze at his remark. "When did you learn how to speak human?" she interrogated.

The cat seemed unmoved by her question. "There is … how you say? Powder of speech charm, all mixed up in your aura," he explained. "I borrow a little bit. It make communication easier."

Lola grumbled in mild disbelief at his explanation. "How can you ’borrow’ an enchantment from someone?" she questioned as an uncomfortable chill ran down her spine. "Even if that were possible, it’d be pretty rude to do without asking first. And also, really weird."

The cat nonchalantly slinked forward. "No, no. Is okay. I keep," he murmured.

"Lola, you’d better not have wandered too far into there!" Venice’s voice called from outside.

The Buhund turned to see the group making their way into the Palazzo’s front entryway. "Venice! Sants somehow borrowed part of my speaking enchantment," she whined back. "Make him stop!"

Befuddled expressions were plastered upon the faces of the entire group as they made their way to her. "What in Lumea are you going on about?" Wesley asked.

The canine seethed. "He can talk!" she yelled. "And he’s saying he got the spell from my aura. It’s weird and creepy and I’m not okay with it."

Sants peered up at the group with a blank stare. "Is okay," he remarked. "It make communication easier."

Wesley shook his head as the cat walked off farther down the entryway. "The list of things that don’t shock me is getting longer and longer every day," he sighed.

"No one’s going to do anything about this?" Lola protested.

Rook looked down at her from Aurora’s shoulder. "You didn’t listen to me about those blasted pyrepies, so no."

Amah knelt next to the farm dog and patted her gently on the head. "I’m afraid there are more critical things at hand to worry about," the sun Spirit consoled.

She stood up and began down the corridor after the others, gently motioning for Lola to follow. They proceeded through the long entryway, passing through an archway into a large and circular chamber. Once polished white stone that made up the chamber’s interior had turned yellowed and dull over centuries of decay. A rickety, railless staircase of the same tarnished rock spiraled through the center of the room, spanning to the upper and lower levels of the palazzo. Instinctively, Lola approached the set of stairs, taking a moment to examine them as she got closer. "I’ve got a bad feeling about these steps," she muttered.

Venice made his way over and knelt beside her to inspect them himself. "She’s right. This stone’s rotting," he observed. "It may not be safe to use these stairs."

Nails clattered loudly against the stone floor as Sam clomped toward them. The homely Parkahund warbled lowly, bobbing his head momentarily. "All right. Go ahead and do what you need to do," Lola replied, backing away from the staircase.

She nudged Venice’s leg with her snout and paw, prompting him to back away as well. "What did he say?" the carpenter inquired.

"He said he wants to try something," the Buhund replied.

Still panting heavily, the Parkahund slammed a paw into the floor in front of him, a wave of bronze luminescence flowing from where he’d struck. It crept ahead, swiftly engulfing the towering spiral staircase. After a few seconds it quickly faded, revealing the same steps in a new color. At a closer glance, they appeared to have changed from the yellowed marble they once were to a rough, grey stone. Sam let out a triumphant bark. "He says he transmuted them into hardened granite," Lola translated. "They should be safe to go up and down now."

Doug stood wide-eyed at the feat the old dog had just performed. "A transmutation spell that powerful takes years to master," he uttered in shock. "How did you do that?"

"Roaron," Sam replied.

Without any further response, the fat dog turned and began waddling down the steps, panting in rhythm with every step he took. Emma and Sants followed shortly behind him.

The old Sage let out a heavy sigh. "I guess we’ve got nothing to complain about," he wearied. "Let’s head downward."

Lola dashed down the stairs, Venice trailing behind her. She could hear the footsteps of the rest of the group behind her as they spiraled down into the dark level below. The bottom of the steps touched down in the middle of a hallway that branched in only two directions. Sam and Emma sat waiting for them, their mana torches lighting up the small area of the hall they occupied.

Sants crept up from the opposite direction as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Sealed chamber is down this way," he informed. "Other direction is abandoned laboratories."

"How did you scope everything out so quickly?" Venice asked.

"I can use shadows to jump quickly between locations," the cat replied. "Common shadow hopping spell."

The cat turned around and headed back in the same direction he’d come from, with the group following behind him. Several meters down, the hall appeared to end at a sealed doorway of solid onyx. A large, brass seal the shape of an eight-pointed star was affixed to the upper portion of the door, a keyhole in the center of it. Copper filigree ran from the seal itself, trailing across the rest of the door’s structure. "It looks like we need a key," Jakea remarked.

"Where would we look for it?" Carter questioned.

Doug tapped his staff loudly and impatiently against the floor. "Time’s a touch short here," he interjected. "I’d suggest we figure out ’where’ quickly. The laboratories Sants mentioned may be a great place to start."

Wesley rushed ahead with a sigh. "Lemme save you guys some trouble here," he offered as he reached into his left pocket.

As he pulled his hand out of his pocket, Lola immediately recognized what he was holding. A long sliver of silver, letting off a soft glow all its own: the silver lock pick. "Where did you get that?" the Buhund interrogated.

"I thought we lost it when Reanja crushed Lola under that pile of rubble," Aurora remarked.

"I went back and looked for it, okay?" the ex-soldier defended. "Leaving this thing laying around for anyone to run off with just didn’t seem responsible to me."

"Are you calling me irresponsible?" Lola growled.

"You did leave a powerful magical artifact just laying around wherever anyone could pick it up, so kinda," Wesley answered as he began working the pick into the keyhole.

Amah cleared her throat. "We actually sent a spirit to retrieve that item from where it had been left in the castle," she interjected. "I suppose this explains why they couldn’t find it."

"At the very least be gentle with the bloody thing," Doug ordered. "The Luce Verans were very protective of their secrets: it may be booby-trapped against lock picks."

The ex-solider continued trying to pick the lock open. "You worry too much, old man," he replied.

With a click the lever inside the lock threw, indicating the lock was undone. Before any words could be spoken the lock began letting out a high-pitched, alarming whistle as the door began shaking violently. Without hesitation Carter grabbed Emma, holding the mutt under one arm. He dashed forward—knocking Wesley out of the way—and held up the dog in front of him like a shield.

A white and blue blaze erupted out of the keyhole in an enormous gust, lighting the hall up as bright as day and scattering to the corners of the passage as it repelled off of Emma’s body. The flames fizzled out almost as quickly as they appeared, the corridor returning to the same dim lighting it previously was. Emma turned her head and looked Carter directly in the eyes, clearly concerned by his actions. "How did you know that would work?" Lola inquired.

Carter chuckled nervously, the large mutt still in his arms. "I didn’t," he admitted. "But I remembered Rose mentioning that the booby traps here were magical, and Emma’s immune to magic so I just decided to take the risk."

Turning her head away from him, the mutt let out an unamused snort. "She wants you to put her down now," Lola translated.

With a grunt, the former guard captain carefully set Emma back down, feet first. He patted her gently on the head as a small thanks but was met with an annoyed, low growl. "Right, right. Figured I may’ve burnt a bridge there," he grumbled.

"So, it’s unlocked now. Why isn’t it opening?" Venice pointed out.

Lola crept up to the door and pressed one of her ears against it. Absolute silence emanated from behind it. She withdrew her ear. "Well, that didn’t tell me anything."

"The lock’s lever is tripped, but the mechanism that opens the door wasn’t activated because of the security spell being set off," Doug deduced.

The elder Sage wedged his fingers into the edge of the doorway, causing the stone door to slide aside by a hair. "Just as I thought," he gloated. "I’m going to need a hand or two here."

Another loud click echoed from behind the door’s frame. The doorway rumbled for a short moment before it receded into the side of its frame. "Or not," Doug wearied.

Lola slipped past his feet and began making her way into the chamber. The mana torch floating above her head weakly illuminated the alcove, barely revealing the full length of its interior and the numerous pedestals scattered throughout it. Details of the room became clearer at the approach of footsteps behind her. "Everyone, please keep in mind that the things in here were sealed for a reason," Doug’s voice advised. "So, try to look and not touch."

Wesley walked past her, curiously eyeing the contents of each nearby stand. He tiptoed over to the nearest one to the door, the light above his head revealing a dagger atop it. The item possessed an intricate gold handle, a black gem with a flowing white spiral through its center serving as the pommel. Without much thought, he picked up the blade. "Well, this is fancy," he uttered.

Her curiosity piqued, Lola trotted over to his side to get a better look at the item. "The blade’s too dull to even cut a stick of butter," Wesley commented as he ran his fingers across its edge.

"Maybe it’s just for decoration?" the Buhund suggested.

"Or it’s just made to make the wielder look flashy in a fight," the ex-soldier replied as he raised the item above his head, poising himself to swing it.

He circled his left arm back, building up momentum to slash the item downward.

Amah caught sight of the display from across the room and began dashing in his direction. "You fool! Put that down!" she cried out. "That’s the Voidrend Dagg—"

Wesley’s arm had already begun a downward swing. As the blade moved through the air, sparks seemed to erupt from it as its edge seemed to vanish. The farther it ran down, the more obvious it became to Lola that the dagger’s blade was literally cutting the air that Wesley was swinging it through, as the empty space it had moved through began to take on a lip, not unlike cut paper. With a loud hum and a brief flash of light the cleft split open.

An opening the size of a double door stood suspended in the air in front of them. Inside it was a room much like a study. Harsh light sources shone from openings in the ceiling, a low buzzing emanating from them. In its center was a desk, covered with countless stacks of paper. Behind it sat a creature—its head bulbous like that of an octopus, with the face of a beluga whale and the body of a seal—dressed in a red housecoat, a red fez seated atop its enormous head. Its attention drawn from the papers in front of it, the creature looked up at them.

Its eyes narrowed as it examined both Lola and Wesley. "Meh meh meh?" the creature growled. "Meh meh meh meh meh meheh meh meh meh."

Amah ran up to them and grabbed the dagger out of Wesley’s hand. "Give me that, you dunce!" she demanded.

She turned and bowed apologetically to the creature in the portal. "Please accept my sincerest apologies," she pleaded. "It should close up in a minute."

The creature huffed loudly and rolled its eyes. "Meh," he sighed. "Meh meh meh meh meh meh."

The edges of the opening began to glow and pulse. With a flash, the opening collapsed and vanished. Amah turned to Wesley, her eyes alight with anger. "So, did your hearing fail when Rose told you not to touch anything?" she inquired. "This is the Voidrend Dagger. It literally cuts the fabric of reality itself, creating unstable gateways to other worlds. There’s a valid reason it’s down here!"

She slammed the blade down on the pedestal and stomped away. Unmoved, Wesley let out a low sigh and turned to pick the dagger back up. "Put it back, Marion," Carter called from across the chamber.

The ex-soldier gritted his teeth and replaced the item atop the pedestal. "Fine," he surrendered.

"What language was that thing speaking?" Lola asked.

Amah turned back. "Cephalopinnepedporpoisean."

The Buhund tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

Footsteps shuffled behind her shortly before she felt Venice’s shin nudge her in the side. "We’ve got bigger priorities at the moment, remember?" he reminded her.

"Sorry," the Buhund apologized.

"Is this it?" Aurora called loudly from the back of the chamber.

Everyone turned their heads in her direction. At a pedestal centered in the floor near the very back of the chamber, she stood holding a worn and rusty disc in her hands. The group rushed to meet her. "It sort of looks like the drawing Ogoun showed us, but at the same time," the musician pondered, "I’m not sure."

Doug relinquished the item from her. "This must be some sort of cruel, cosmic joke," he growled. "The bloody thing’s gone to rust."

"Don’t be so pessimistic," Amah remarked.

The former sun spirit motioned for him to hand the item to her. With little thought, the elder Sage shoved the disc into her hands.

A bright violet glow emanated from the chakram’s edge and the symbols carved into its sides for a brief few seconds, fading as quickly as it had appeared. "So not only is this thing ruined, but it’s fickle to boot?" Carter groaned.

"It’ll only glow with the right wielder, right?" Wesley inquired. "Maybe we should pass it around and see if it reacts to any of us."

"After the stunt you pulled with that dagger a moment ago, there’s no way I’m letting you touch this," Amah replied.

"Oh, come on," the ex-soldier begged. "What if I’m its wielder? You’d be dooming Lumea."

Everyone was silent for a moment. "I think we’re all willing to take that chance," Carter remarked.

"For the love of—" Wesley fumed. "Just let me see it."

He reached for the chakram still clutched in Amah’s hands as she attempted to pull the item away from his reach. The ring-shaped blade slipped from her grip as she moved, clattering to the floor in front of Lola.

Startled by the noise the Buhund stumbled in place, her right paw unintentionally slamming down atop the weapon. It erupted in the same violet light, yet retained its glow. The rust and tarnish on the ring blade’s metal swiftly melted away as it remained alight.

"You’ll do," a faint whisper echoed in her head.

Lola removed her paw from it, and the glow vanished. She replaced her paw atop it and the glow returned at the same intensity. For a few moments, she repeated removing and replacing her paw atop it several times to confirm it was reacting to her. "Lola, you can stop doing that," Venice wearied as he took the chakram from her and tucked it into his vest.

"Somehow, I’m not surprised," Rook snarked.

"That certainly simplifies things," Doug sighed with relief. "Now all we have to do is get out of here."

Jakea let out a brief but loud scream, drawing everyone’s attention to her. The young woman had her hand clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide with fear as she pointed behind the group to the very back of the chamber.

"Some of us have sensitive hearing, you know. What’s the big deal?" Lola demanded.

She pointed again. "There’s a dead body in a display case behind you," she whimpered through her hand.

Everyone jumped as they turned to face the back of the chamber. The light of their mana torches revealed a glass coffin with countless runes and seals carved into its surface leaning against the rear wall. Inside it stood the form of what appeared to be a young man.

Under the light of the torches, his skin appeared to have an olive tone. His hair grew in two different colors; the plume of rust brown extending from the frontal hairline, the remaining portion a lighter greyed shade of brown. A goatee of the same rust brown framed his mouth. One large, vertical scar ran down the eyebrow and shut eyelid over his left eye. Another scar the shape of two crossed slashes marked the left edge of his jaw.

Numerous piercings decorated his ears, and what appeared to be the arm from a suit of armor had been placed over his left arm and riveted to the black and violet jacket that covered his torso.

"Why would they keep something like this down here?" Aurora questioned.

"He must be well preserved. There’s no signs of decay," Doug interjected.

Lola could hear a faint thumping sound from the direction of the coffin. The noise very quickly sparked a realization in her. "He’s not dead," she remarked.

"What? How do you mean?" the elder Sage demanded.

Her gaze remained locked on the glass coffin. "I can hear his heart beating," the Buhund replied. "He’s alive!"

Next Chapter: (Book 2) Chapter 09 - Sinister Plots and Forgotten Transgressions