The Book That Bleeds

The vault underneath Vale Dynamics wasn't listed on any blueprints. It become older than the constructing, older even than Aldric's throne. When Elara stepped via the iron door, escorted by way of Moriah, the air tasted of ink, copper, and some thing worse—memory.

"This isn't just a library," Elara murmured, brushing her fingers alongside the spines of historical tomes.

"No," Moriah answered. "This is wherein the First Circle buried understanding that even the Courts feared."

In the center of the vault stood a pedestal bearing a unmarried e book, bound in silver-threaded leather-based. It became unmarked—except for a small scar-like reduce throughout the the front.

Elara approached.

Her glyph pulsed. The book vibrated.

Moriah stepped back. "It reacts to bloodline. I won't interfere."

Elara opened the book. The pages turned by themselves, stopping on a diagram of the Herald's prison—the very same sigil that lined the chamber she'd descended into days earlier.

But beneath it was something more disturbing: a ritual marked in red ink, too fresh to be centuries old.

A second glyph. One that feeds on the original.

She stared. "This is… reverse binding."

Moriah's expression darkened. "That's forbidden."

"I know," Elara said. "Which is exactly why I need to learn it."