The Vault Beneath Red Stone

---

The wind carried the scent of iron and ash as they crossed into the Ebon Heights.

It was a desolate place—once green, long ago, before something had scorched the land down to cracked stone and withered moss. Jagged rock formations jutted from the earth like broken ribs. Thunderclouds churned low overhead, though not a drop of rain had fallen in years.

Kael muttered under his breath, "This place feels like it's been cursed to forget life ever existed."

Riven said nothing, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The girl—now known only as Mira—traveled with them under Liora's care. She spoke little, still pale and quiet, but each day that passed, her strength returned. Her magic, however, remained volatile—unpredictable, as if it were still trying to reshape itself after the failed sealing.

And each night, Riven's dreams grew darker.

He saw the Vault in his sleep. Carved into a red canyon, with obsidian gates marked by an unfamiliar crest: a hawk pierced by flame.

And standing before it—a figure cloaked in white, waiting.

Always waiting.

---

By the fourth day, they reached the outer edge of the canyon.

The cliffs were steep, the air unnaturally still. Lyssa scanned the stone with narrowed eyes. "There's magic in the rocks."

"Residual warding," Liora agreed. "Old. Not Order-made. These are pre-Seal defenses."

Kael knelt at the canyon floor and brushed aside some dry ash.

Symbols lay hidden beneath—a language none of them recognized.

Except Riven.

He stared at them, and without meaning to, spoke aloud:

> "Ven a'seil maelthar. To speak the Gate open is to offer a name in shadow."

The words didn't sound like his own.

Lyssa's gaze flicked to him. "You understood that."

"I didn't try to."

Liora turned slowly. "The bloodline magic is awakening. You're starting to remember more."

Kael drew both swords. "Which probably means we're getting close."

They pressed deeper into the canyon.

The Vault door appeared just before dusk—exactly as Mira described.

Massive. Silent. Red stone etched with countless runes, many of which shimmered faintly at Riven's approach. A sigil glowed at the center—awaiting something.

"A name in shadow," Riven whispered.

Then, quietly, he reached for the Seal at his throat, and spoke:

> "Riven Caelthorn Valenhart."

A beat of silence.

Then the gate responded.

The rock shifted, groaning. Ancient locks spun with deep grinding clicks. Dust fell like ash from the seams. And then—the door opened.

Inside: darkness. Thick. Heavy. Breathing.

---

They descended together.

Torches flared to life along the walls as they entered. The Vault pulsed with preserved power—older than the Eclipse Order, older even than the Sealed Academy.

At the heart of the chamber stood a pedestal, and atop it—something impossible.

A book.

Bound in gray leather, sealed shut by six chains, and glowing faintly with arcane light.

"The Codex of Valenhart," Liora whispered. "It's real…"

Riven reached for it—but the moment his fingers brushed the cover, the air shifted.

Something moved behind them.

Kael spun.

At the entrance—stood a man in black.

Clad in half-armor that shimmered like oil, face half-hidden behind a silver mask. His eyes burned with crimson light, and in one hand, he carried a weapon shaped like a whip made from molten steel.

"Finally," the man said, his voice cold. "The Heir steps into the fire willingly."

Lyssa's flames ignited instinctively. "Who are you?"

The man removed his mask.

Not Eclipse. Not Hollowbound.

His skin was pale, eyes unnaturally red. Faint lines of corruption veined up his neck.

"I am Vaskel, first blade of the Eclipse Operatives."

Kael swore. "They sent an assassin."

"Not to capture," Vaskel said. "To correct. You were never meant to reach the Vault, boy."

He stepped forward, dragging his molten whip behind him. The air hissed where it passed.

"I watched your father die. I watched your mother beg. Now I've come to finish what was started that night."

Riven stepped forward, unsheathing his blade, Seal glowing.

"You'll regret surviving."

---

The battle began with a scream of metal and fire.

Vaskel struck first—his whip snapped out with impossible speed, wrapping around Riven's blade and dragging it aside. Riven twisted, ducked beneath the second strike, and unleashed a burst of wind magic that shattered a pillar behind them.

Lyssa circled wide, unleashing a spear of black flame that carved across the vault, but Vaskel rolled beneath it, vanishing into the shadows.

Then—he reappeared behind Liora.

Kael tackled her out of the way just in time as the assassin's blade sliced the air.

"They're coordinated," Vaskel growled, annoyed. "How disappointing."

Riven closed in, his blade igniting with his own Seal energy—part wind, part fire. Their swords met in a blast of sparks and sheer force.

"Your father begged too," Vaskel snarled, driving his boot into Riven's chest. "You inherited his weakness."

"I inherited his will." Riven surged forward, this time faster, fueled by something deeper—rage, memory, and the fire that was finally starting to awaken.

---

Vaskel faltered.

Just for a moment.

A flash of recognition.

Then—Lyssa appeared behind him.

Her flames wrapped around his whip, anchoring it in place, and Kael struck with a perfect angle—severing the weapon clean in half.

Vaskel hissed and vanished into smoke.

He reappeared above, landing near the Codex.

"Fools," he rasped. "You think this ends here? This Vault is only one of many. The Order is already unlocking another."

Riven raised his blade. "Then give them my regards."

He launched his sword, enhanced with explosive force. It struck Vaskel square in the chest, throwing him backward into the far wall.

The assassin vanished in a burst of smoke and blood.

Dead—or escaped, none could say.

---

The Vault fell quiet again.

Riven stood before the Codex, panting, bruised.

He looked down.

The chains were gone.

The book had opened.

And inside… were pages filled not with spells.

But memories.

Written in his father's hand.

------

And inside… were pages filled not with spells.

But memories.

Written in his father's hand.

Riven stared at the flowing script. Each word shimmered faintly, like heat rising from desert stone. They weren't simply ink—they were laced with magic, memory-bound to blood. Only someone of Valenhart blood could read them.

He reached out slowly, fingers trembling—not from fear, but something harder to define.

Dread.

Hope.

Aching loss.

The first page carried no title.

Only a single line.

> If you're reading this, then the path we feared has come to pass.

Riven sat down slowly before the pedestal. The others remained quiet behind him. No one moved. Even Kael, who usually filled silence with sarcasm or snark, said nothing now.

He turned the page.

> I am Caelthorn Valenhart, Keeper of the Third Vault, and former High Commander of the Sealed Council. If my son still lives, then know this: the Order's rise began from within.

They were never outsiders, Riven. They were us.

The words struck like a blade to the chest.

> Years ago, a faction within the Council began seeking ways to use the Seals as weapons—not as anchors to balance the Veil, but as tools of control. I opposed them. So did your mother. For that, we were marked.

We fled. We hid you. We sealed your memories to protect you—not just from the Order, but from the Seal within you. It was awakening too fast. You would have burned alive before your tenth year.

Riven's hand clenched the page.

Lyssa stepped closer, watching him. "What does it say?"

He didn't answer.

He kept reading.

> The Eclipse Order is not led by one. It is ruled by Six, mirroring the Seals. Each one has corrupted a fragment of the ancient system. They are building something greater. Something terrible. A Seventh Seal.

We discovered fragments of an old prophecy buried in the First Vault. It warned of a time when the Seals would be used to open the Gate—not to close it. But to tear the Veil completely.

That is what they want. That is what they need you for.

His breath caught.

The page flickered faintly as he turned it again.

> Your Seal, Riven, was never meant to awaken early. It is one of the original three. It is tied not only to magic—but to memory. To legacy. And to loss.

We bound it to protect you. But even protection has a price.

If you are reading this, then you must choose now: will you follow our path and try to seal what comes… or will you forge a new one and risk becoming what they fear?

The writing stopped. Below it—was something different.

A sigil.

Circular. Ancient. And pulsing faintly.

When Riven touched it, his vision blurred—and suddenly, he was no longer in the Vault.

---

He stood in a field of white.

No wind. No sky. No sound.

Just a flicker of something ahead.

Two figures.

A woman with silver hair braided down her back.

And a man with Riven's eyes, but older, wearier.

They looked at him.

And smiled.

"Riven," his mother said, her voice soft and warm. "You're stronger than we ever hoped."

His father's voice followed, steadier. "And more dangerous. Be careful who you trust with your kindness."

They stepped closer, flickering like fading echoes.

"This memory is all we could leave you," she continued. "Not orders. Not destiny. Just truth."

Riven took a step forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His father's expression darkened. "Because the truth would've broken you, Riven. Because we weren't sure you'd survive long enough to matter. But now… you do."

The world began to fade.

One final whisper echoed in his ears:

> The Seventh Seal is not a place. Not a Vault. Not even a person.

It's a choice.

Then everything turned black.

---

Riven gasped as he came back to himself.

The Codex was closed.

The Vault felt colder than before.

Lyssa knelt beside him, brow furrowed. "What happened?"

He looked at her, eyes darker now.

"They're trying to create a Seventh Seal."

Kael's jaw tightened. "That's impossible. There are only six."

"Not anymore," Riven said.

He stood, hands shaking faintly.

"My Seal isn't just part of the system. It's a key."

Mira's voice called faintly from the stairwell.

"They know you've opened it," she whispered. "The Gate's watching."

---