The castle walls were older than anyone alive, and deep within them, Milena now stood before a stone panel — one that had been disguised as part of the wall for centuries. Gareth's lantern flickered, casting long shadows across the ancient carvings.
"I used to think it was just a story," he whispered. "But your touch… it opened it."
Milena's fingers tingled from where the panel had shifted beneath her hand. The symbol — the golden fox — had glowed faintly when she pressed it. Now, a narrow stairway spiraled downward into darkness.
"We have to go," she said.
Gareth hesitated. "If we go down there, there's no turning back."
"I was never meant to stay safe," she replied. "Not when the truth is buried."
They descended in silence, each step echoing in the hollow passage. The air grew colder. Dust hung thick in the air, undisturbed for decades — maybe longer. At the bottom, the stair opened into a small underground chamber.
Milena gasped.
On the far wall was a tapestry — frayed, but intact — of her family crest. Shelves lined with scrolls and books filled the room, each marked with the crest of House Eldryn. A desk stood at the center, atop it a leather-bound journal titled: For the Last of Us.
She opened it carefully.
"To the heir of Eldryn: if you are reading this, then the bloodline has survived the purge…"
Her heart pounded. This was it. Proof. Secrets. And maybe… power.
But just then, they heard it — footsteps echoing above.
Gareth's face went pale. "Someone else knows."
Milena clutched the journal. She wasn't just fighting to reclaim her family's name anymore — she was now racing against those who'd destroy it all over again.
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