"More skulls?" Leo frowned at the seemingly endless rows he had passed through on the way to his destination.
"Why are there this many?" he muttered, trying to make sense of it. The royal lineage of Elyria couldn't possibly exceed three hundred individuals. Yet Leo had counted more than a thousand skulls so far—and the line kept going. "Ancients?" That was the only explanation that made sense now. Perhaps this was more than a royal crypt. Maybe it was a place of reverence for the progenitors of elven kind.
He paused and picked up a skull that seemed... different. Its cranium was larger, the jawline oddly shaped. "They are quite related," he whispered, turning it in his hands. "Elves and Ancients..."
The azure eye was still inactive, forcing Leo to depend solely on his five senses. No magical insight. Just observation.
"Aside from an enlarged cranium..." Leo rubbed his chin, staring deeper into the hollow sockets. "I can't see much difference between elves and Ancients." He chuckled. "Records did say Elhyr's ears were slightly pointed. Maybe that's what started the confusion."
He repeated the word slowly: "An-cients." Two syllables. The name itself held secrets.
Suddenly, it hit him.
"They're the progenitors of the elven race," Leo muttered in awe. His scholarly instincts fully kicked in now, overriding the urgency of his mission for a moment. "But for some reason..."
He gently returned the skull to its resting place, walking further into the dim tunnel while piecing together a puzzle forgotten by time.
"They evolved. Or... they were changed. Into the mortal elves of today."
More questions began to surge.
"How did a forgotten race of demigods—powerful beings—transform into modern-day elves? And why has this transformation been forgotten, hidden even, by their descendants?"
Light. Bright and pure.
Leo squinted as he approached a large chamber bathed in soft, glowing white light. It poured from a floating chandelier wreathed in ethereal flame, hovering above a majestic sarcophagus. Every gem inlaid on its white stone surface shimmered with embedded mana. And those gems formed a swirl—a stylized phoenix.
Elhyr's final resting place.
"I'll have to be careful," Leo muttered. He didn't trust the stillness, nor did he believe for a second that the Phoenix had left their revered hero unprotected. His eyes scoured the perimeter for any runes, traps, or wards.
But surprisingly—nothing.
He narrowed his eyes, cautious. Ignoring the sarcophagus for the moment, he inspected the ivory-colored shelves lining the tomb. Books. Scrolls. Artifacts. Many were written in Ancient Elvish, while others bore a language entirely unfamiliar to him—likely Ancient itself.
Titles ranged from the mundane to the mystifying. One scroll detailed remedies for rare illnesses. Another discussed meteorological patterns in the Ancient era. But one book stood out. Midnight blue, glowing faintly, and titled simply:
"Forbidden."
Leo's eyes gleamed. "What kind of knowledge did Elhyr consider forbidden?"
Cling.
A soft metallic sound drew his attention. The book had a golden lock.
"No key, huh?" Leo shook his head and tucked it into his cloak. "Yet another mystery to solve."
He finally turned his focus to the sarcophagus.
Should he open it?
He stared, undecided. Every instinct screamed caution. Whatever was sealed inside had been left untouched for ages—likely for good reason.
"Let's not be foolish." Leo activated the azure eye despite his body's protest. A vein throbbed in his head. His breathing became labored.
Pulch.
Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it quickly, staring hard.
What he saw chilled him.
Dark mana. Swirling. Concentrated exactly where Elhyr's heart would've been. The mana was twisted, violent—far worse than Gerald's curse. This wasn't just a spiritual remnant. It was a power that defied natural balance.
"No wonder no one ever tried this," Leo whispered. "Gerald wasn't just afraid. He was being merciful."
He backed away and settled between two shelves, collecting his thoughts.
"It could be another creature. Like that maroon silhouette from earlier." He clenched his fists. "And Gerald didn't bother mentioning it. Of course."
The azure eye faded, leaving Leo with only speculation and instinct.
"I don't have the strength to push forward... not yet. And I can't draw on the ambient mana. Not while I'm like this."
His eyes drifted across the tomb.
A glimmer.
"What's that?"
He stepped forward and found a golden-bound book. Intricate patterns laced its cover. The title:
"The Genealogy of Ancient and Elven Royals."
He blinked.
"I can't believe this."
His eyes moved rapidly across the final entries. And then he found it:
Written by Elhyr Oakhyr.
"Oakhyr?" The name rang in his ears.
He flipped through the pages, scanning line after line. Then it stopped him.
Queen Daphne the Brutal—granddaughter of Emelda the Just and daughter of Elhyr Grande and Jade Oakhyr.
Leo kept reading.
Queen Flowyria, granddaughter of Jadhyr and daughter of Hughyr Oak and Lailhyr Oakhyr.
His face paled.
"Emelda is Elhyr's great-granddaughter..."
Shock hit him like a tidal wave. It was a truth that shattered everything he knew.
"Then why—
Despite this truth, it still didn't explain a lot of things like why Draghyr was after Princess Emelda or why she had never revealed herself as someone bearing Elhyr's grace; a special honor given to known members of Elhyr's lineage.
"Strange really strange". Leo sighed, realizing that he himself had already been cursed.
Cursed with a voracious appetite for knowledge, an appetite it seemed, could never be satiated.
*RIPPP!
A certain page went off the book and right into Leo's already bulging cloak.
"Now for what I came for". Leo walked back to the sarcophagus, ready to beat whatever laid beneath that ancient stone.