The Thunderbird flew them farther than any map dared name.
They soared over silver deserts, storm-bitten valleys, and rivers that glowed faintly blue in the moonlight. Eventually, it descended into a hidden crater surrounded by stone pillars that crackled faintly with energy—like forgotten fingers pointing toward the sky.
At the center of the crater was a structure that defied logic. It was a library, but not one made of stone or wood. It was built from clouds compressed into walls, ink carved into wind, and lightning held still long enough to become bookshelves.
Nimbus floated alongside them, eyes wide. "Okay, wow. I take back every rude thing I ever said about sky-based architecture. This place is gorgeous."
Basil dismounted the Thunderbird, scanning the surroundings. "It feels… protected. Shielded from Mortain's influence."
Rose slid off last, one hand brushing the bird's side in thanks. "And full of secrets."
As if in response, the air shimmered and a doorway appeared—framed in glowing runes, marked with the sigil Rose now carried in her skin.
She stepped through.
Inside, the library hummed with silent magic. Scrolls floated between shelves. Lightning ran along golden threads woven into the ceiling, illuminating ancient symbols. The scent of ozone and parchment filled the air.
At the heart of it all stood a figure.
Not human. Not quite spirit. She was tall and translucent, made of cloudstuff and static, with a crown of sparking feathers. Her eyes were storms caught mid-blink.
"Welcome, Witch of the Mark," she said, voice a breeze through charged air.
Rose bowed slightly. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"I am Archivist Nelu. Keeper of the Lightning Library. Memory of the Storm Court's oldest truths." Her eyes lingered on Rose's glyph. "And I am here to remind you of who you were… and what you might become."
Rose frowned. "I don't need reminding. I need help. Mortain is rising."
"Yes," Nelu said softly. "And the storm is unraveling. But to stop him, you must know what the Breaking Sigil really is."
Rose's hand twitched over the mark.
"It's more than power," Nelu said. "It's a key. A curse. A promise. Long ago, the gods used it to bind something they couldn't destroy. And now, through you, Mortain seeks to unbind it."
Basil stepped forward. "What's he trying to release?"
Nelu turned slowly.
"A forgotten storm. A being made of undoing. One the gods were too afraid to name aloud. If Mortain wakes it, the world will drown in memory and ash."
A silence fell like thunder before the strike.
Rose squared her shoulders. "Then we don't let him. Show me what I need to do."
Nelu smiled—soft, sorrowful. "Then let us begin."
The books began to open, lightning pulsing through ancient words. Pages turned. Truths whispered.
And outside the crater, unseen beneath the roots of the earth, Mortain's shadow coiled tighter.
The final storm was gathering.