Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Archive
They sprinted up the winding stone staircase carved into the cliff, the wind howling around them like a pack of starving wolves. When they reached the heavy iron threshold of the Hall of Records, the heat radiating from within was staggering—a dry, unnatural warmth that smelled of burning parchment and scorched sealing wax.
Rowan kicked the doors open.
The vast, vaulted library—filled with shelves stretching up into the dark shadows of the stone ceiling—was a scene of absolute devastation. Ancient scrolls lay smoldering on the floor, their vellum curling and blackening as magical blue flames licked along the wooden floorboards.
Standing at the far end of the hall, beside the great obsidian pedestal holding the golden Charter Box, was Queen-Regent Helena.
Her royal robes were singed at the hem, and her silver-thorn diadem was slightly crooked. In her hand, she held a heavy iron brazier filled with glowing coals, ready to dump onto the open pages of the original unification treaty.
"Stop right there, Rowan!" Helena shrieked, her voice echoing off the burning shelves. "One step closer, and I burn the history of this entire continent into ash! Without this charter, the North has no legal claim to independence, and every noble in the realm will treat you as a usurper!"
Rowan stopped fifty paces away, his hands resting easily at his sides. The lion padded up beside him, its low growl vibrating through the stone floor like an earthquake.
"You can burn the paper, Helena," Rowan said calmly, his voice cutting through the crackle of the flames. "You can burn every scroll in this citadel. But you can't burn the blood-seal etched into the bedrock of the Reach. The truth isn't written on parchment; it's carved into our very bones."
"Insolent fool!" Helena raised the brazier higher, her eyes wild with desperation. "I am the rightful ruler of Ashbourne! I did what had to be done to keep the realm from tearing itself apart!"
"You poisoned my father," Rowan said, taking another step forward. "You framed the northern delegates to start a war that would consolidate your power. And you tried to cut my hand off to silence the last witness."
"And I should have finished the job in the throne room!" Helena screamed, tipping the brazier forward.
Before the burning coals could touch the ancient vellum, a streak of white lightning flashed across the room.
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The lion didn't leap—it vanished in a blur of motion and reappeared directly before the obsidian pedestal. Its massive paw swept out, catching the iron brazier and sending it spinning away into the burning shelves with a deafening crash.
Helena stumbled backward, tripping over her own heavy skirts and crashing hard against the stone floor. Her diadem clattered off her head, rolling across the soot-stained marble until it came to rest against Rowan’s boot.
