The relics lay on the war table, sealed and humming.
The scroll bound in molten iron, the crystal orb still faintly aflame, and the circlet of thorns coiled with coiling glyphs none of them ordinary, none of them safe. Around the table stood Thalen, Renal, Varos, Ilara, and Crown Arcanist Sevra, summoned by Renal personally for her expertise in forbidden historical arcana.
No one spoke for a long time. The scroll, even bound, radiated a gravity that pressed into the room like a rising tide. Not malevolent just ancient. Weighted by intention.
Ilara broke the silence. "We can't decipher the scroll here. Its aura signature pulses on a level too close to the Tyrant Spirit it could trigger the wards around the Citadel."
Sevra agreed. "Even containing it is dangerous. This was meant to be kept away. But…"
She hesitated.
"But what?" Thalen asked.
"It's not sealed against use," Sevra murmured. "It's sealed against witnessing."
