The chamber's quiet was thick, like it had been waiting for them.
Selene stood beneath the sigil of the flame wreathed in thorns, the tapestry looming above her like a memory trying to breathe. The air was cool but charged, vibrating faintly against her skin. She didn't speak, not yet. Neither did Gwen. The silence had a gravity of its own.
She ran her fingers lightly over the edge of a crystal shard floating inside a containment rune. It pulsed once beneath her touch, then settled again.
"I thought I'd feel more… triumphant," Selene said quietly.
Gwen stood by the archway, arms crossed. "Opening a sealed chamber made to obey your bloodline is a decent start."
Selene smiled faintly, without warmth. "That's what worries me."
She turned back to the stone desk in the center of the room, dust-covered but intact. Scrolls and ledgers were piled along its surface—most too damaged to read, but one glimmered slightly, preserved by a stasis ward. Gwen had already tried to break it.
It only flared brighter when she approached.
But when Selene reached out, the magic parted like mist.
The scroll unrolled easily beneath her fingers, the ink still sharp.
Gwen leaned over her shoulder. "What does it say?"
Selene skimmed the opening lines. Her throat tightened.
"It's a personal letter. From someone named Arathe of the First Flame. It's… addressed to someone called Lysaria. That was my mother's name."
Gwen's expression shifted.
"Read it," she said.
Selene did, her voice quiet:
"To my dearest Lysaria, bearer of the Line— They come for us sooner than I feared. The Tower has already sent its black-robed knives to the western sanctums. Your union with the Hidden Flame must remain sealed until the weave completes its circle. The child will not awaken unless the bloodlines converge. Protect her. Hide her from all of them, even the Bright ones. Even the Shadowed one. The boy has Light in him—but more than that, he carries the Key."
Selene stopped, voice trembling.
Gwen frowned. "The boy?"
Selene said nothing.
Lucien.
It had to be Lucien.
A memory came unbidden—Lucien holding her, after one of her early collapses. She'd been trembling, sick with fever. And when he'd held her hand, her pulse had steadied. Her dreams had stilled.
He carried the Key.
Whatever that meant, it was more than protection. It was part of her.
Part of this.
She continued reading silently. Gwen stepped away, letting her digest it.
But as Selene neared the final lines, her eyes widened. The ink flickered briefly with hidden glyphs that surfaced only as her hand moved across the parchment. Invisible to Gwen's gaze, but unmistakable to her own.
The last lines were meant for her—and her alone.
Lysaria had added them in her own hand.
Selene knew the curve of that script. She had seen it in the margins of an old lullaby journal, tucked away in her satchel.
My daughter, if you read this: The seal I placed on your magic was not to limit you, but to delay the Tethering. Your father is not who the Tower believes. He was born of both Flame and Chain—light and shadow. And from the day you were conceived, your fate was already woven into the return of the First Magic. If they find out what you truly are, they will not try to control you. They will destroy you. You are not just the last of the Bright Line. You are the Weavewalker. The one who can walk between realms—and threads. Keep your silence. Trust no one. Not even the girl who bears red fire in her eyes. I love you.
Selene's breath caught.
The scroll burned softly in her hand. The runes shimmered and then dissolved into dust. Gone.
Gwen turned. "What did it say?"
Selene looked up, voice calm, even. "Mostly what you already said. That the Tower feared me. That I was bound by my mother to keep the bloodline hidden."
Gwen didn't press.
But something in her expression shifted—disappointment, maybe. Or suspicion.
Selene didn't care.
Not now.
Not after what she'd just read.
Weavewalker.
She could feel it now—the deeper hum beneath the surface magic. Not just energy, but possibility. Paths. Potentials.
And if her mother's words were true, then even Gwen didn't know what Selene really was. What she could become.
She turned toward the chamber's back wall. In the shadows, a second tapestry hung behind a curtain of cobwebs and dust. Smaller, more worn.
She pulled it aside.
There, half-hidden, was a symbol she had never seen before.
Three interwoven circles surrounding a flame and a chain—Lucien's crest crossed with something else.
Something ancient.
It wasn't just about power. Or blood.
It was about convergence.
Selene touched the symbol and closed her eyes.
Somewhere far from the Hollow, something stirred. A thread snapped taut.
She opened her eyes slowly and let the curtain fall.
"Let's go," she said to Gwen.
"You sure?"
Selene nodded. "I have what I need."
For now.
But she would return.
And next time, she wouldn't be the one asking questions.