Camdyn stood over one of the sprawling maps laid out across the table. It wasn’t a traditional layout. No mountains, no rivers, no ruins. Instead, it charted what looked more like the astral plane, a swirling array of symbols and constellations etched in faded ink and starlight. Not exactly helpful if you were trying to find your way across solid ground.

  “So, about this Blade...” he started, running his thumb along the edge of a star system penned in silver. “Any ideas on where humans might’ve stashed something like that? I for one have never heard of anything like that.”

  “Hmm. My guess?” Saelune replied, “Either a museum... or no—mounted above the fireplace of some rich guy’s trillion-dollar mansion. Y’know, back when those still looked like mansions and not giant anthills. That’s what you humans did with your valuables, right?”

  He let out a dry laugh. “Sounds about right.”

  “You humans loved your glass boxes,” Saelune continued, shaking her head. “You’d shove anything into them just to gawk and make sure everyone else could gawk too. Jewels, paintings, broken pottery from a thousand years ago. Even if it was just the crumbs. You’d even put bones and dead things in them, like death itself was something to be admired behind a pane of glass. And nothing was off-limits either. Not even the living. You’d just box them up, too.”

  There was no malice in her voice, only a wry amusement.

  “Yeah…” Camdyn said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It does sound bad when you put it like that. But I think the idea was to preserve what mattered. To create time capsules people could learn from. Something future generations could study and understand. At least… that’s what it was supposed to be.”

  She bit at a talon. “There always was a fine line between education, entertainment, and torture,” Her half-smile sharpened like a cat eyeing a cornered mouse. “Sometimes you conveniently forgot where one ended and the other began. Always so chaotic. Doomed, really, to take yourselves out of the picture.”

  “Don’t feed into her words, Camdyn,” Flora cut in, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She was busy pulling books from the shelf, glancing through pages before setting them back down, almost distractedly. “She’s just trying to get under your skin.”

  “Besides,” Flora continued, “It wouldn’t be in a structure made by man. At least not a modern one. It’s far too powerful for that. Too important.”

  “What are you thinking, then?” he asked.

  “It must be in one of the ancient places. Where both man and Other once gathered. Powerful enough to contain it. Hidden enough to protect it.”

  “You mean the old temples,” Saelune said, her tone shifting ever so slightly.

  Flora nodded.

  Saelune gave a short laugh. “Well, that narrows it down to, what? Fifty? Across the entire broken world?”

  “Hey,” Camdyn said, shooting her a look, “you agreed to be helpful, remember?”

  Saelune raised her hands in mock surrender.

  “And it’s a start,” he added. “This place is a sort of archive, right? There must be a map here of the temple locations.”

  They both looked at the Sirin expectantly.

  She blinked. “Oh, me? Right. Yeah, there must be something like that around here somewhere…”

  Saelune glanced around the space, before looking to Camdyn. “It won’t be in the star charts.” She then turned to Flora. “Or in the Curiosities section. Think older. It’s probably on a scroll somewhere.”

  They didn’t waste time. The trio split off, each drifting into separate wings of the Spire’s archive chamber. The library was massive. Circular, tiered, and so old it groaned faintly under its own weight.

  Flora scanned the carved spines of ancient tomes, methodical and focused. Camdyn trailed along a row of rolled parchment, untying the more promising scrolls with care. Saelune, on the other hand, wandered with no clear direction, arms folded. Moved more by instinct than logic.

  She rounded a bend behind a half-collapsed column and paused.

  There, nestled beneath a thick layer of dust on a pedestal of black stone, was a thin slab of pressed bark. Dry, curled at the edges, but still intact. Symbols were burned into the surface in a looping script, surrounding a spidery diagram that looked like both a map and a spell.

  Her brows lifted. “Well, well.”

  She reached out and ran her fingers across the etched surface. The second she touched it, however, her body locked still.

  Her breath caught. Vision flooded her mind.

  Camdyn, who rummaged nearby, heard the sound and looked over just in time to see her stiffen, eyes gone distant, and hand locked onto the bark.

  “Saelune?” he said quickly, already hurrying toward her. “Hey…”

  But she wasn’t listening.

  Salt wind.

  Cliffside shadows.

  A cave mouth, dark and narrow, carved into the foot of a stone bluff.

  Sea spray lashed at its entrance.

  A familiar glint of metal.

  Then, something else.

  A flicker in the dark. Shadows where there should’ve been silence.

  Danger.

  Not in form, not in face, but in feeling.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Saelune stumbled, letting out a breath. The vision blinked out. She jerked her hand back, as if burned.

  Camdyn caught her by the arm to steady her. “Hey. Are you alright?”

  “I’m… fine.” She blinked, coming out of it. Her usual sharp grin didn’t quite return. “Just... visions. You know how it is… Or I guess you don’t.”

  Flora approached, concern in her brow. “What did you see?”

  Saelune hesitated. “A coastline. A cliff. A cave.”

  “That narrows it down,” Camdyn said gently.

  She nodded, but her gaze lingered on the bark map. “There’s something else. I don’t know what. But it’s not... empty. Whatever’s waiting there, it’s not just a relic.”

  Camdyn exchanged a look with Flora. “The Withered?” His words were hushed.

  “We have to prepare for the worst.” she replied firmly.

  Saelune exhaled slowly, still shaking off the echo of the vision.

  Camdyn didn’t let go of her arm right away. “You sure you're okay?”

  She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, Mom. I’m good.”

  The Sirin placed the map on the tabletop for them all to view. Flora’s fingers moved across its surface, hovering over the drawn outline of what used to be the southern continent. “If your vision is true, it would mean we’re seeking along the coast.”

  “But didn’t the Great Collapse make a lot of things “the coast”? There’s been a major terrain shift since the before-times. Whole cities got swallowed up.”

  Saelune shook her head. “This place felt old. Like it’s been there for eons.”

  Camdyn leaned over her shoulder. “How many coastal temples are there?”

  Flora’s brow creased. “Seven that I can think of... maybe eight if the Meridia Ruins still exist.”

  “Alright, so not fifty. Progress,” he said then turned to Saelune. “Did you notice anything significant? Symbols? Landmarks? Anything that would tie it to one in particular?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell ya. It looked like a cave. Dark, wet, full of rocks.”

  “Think harder.” Flora hissed.

  “Hey, lady. If you wanna give the whole soothsaying a whirl, have at it.”

  “Maybe.” Camdyn stepped between them, raising a hand. “We already have everything we need.”

  He turned to Saelune. “This cave, was it on the beach?”

  She paused. “On the water. I saw seafoam gathering at its mouth.”

  “That brings it down to two.” Flora said.

  She traced a delicate line along the coastline with her finger. “The Tide Hollow Sanctum in the east.” Then she shifted to another mark, farther off. “Or the Whispering Grotto, near the drowned islands.”

  “Got any juice left in you to narrow that down?” Camdyn asked hopefully.

  Saelune gave a tired sigh. “That’s not how this works—”

  “You say that, but is that actually true?” he pressed gently. “Surely it can’t be random every time. Have you ever tried channeling it?”

  She hesitated. “I could… if I were better at this.” Her voice softened, a hint of defeat bleeding through. “But I’m not.”

  Camdyn studied her for a moment before replying. “Well, you know what they say: practice makes perfect. You’ll never get anywhere by doing nothing.”

  She scoffed, but it lacked bite. “So, what? You’re a fortune cookie now?”

  “Maybe.” he grinned “But I’m not wrong. Just try it. No expectations.”

  “Whatever, golden boy.” Saelune muttered, covering her good eye with a hand and focusing on the map with the other eye. She drew in a slow breath, centering herself. Her misted eye flickered faintly as she reached inward, chasing the vision like a thread slipping through her fingers.

  But nothing came.

  She exhaled sharply, lowering her hand. Frustration lined her face. “It’s like the fog’s thicker than ever. I can’t reach it.”

  Camdyn squeezed her shoulder. “You tried and that’s all I asked. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get it next time.”

  Saelune shot him a sideways glare, the sharp edge softened just a little. “Are you always this irritating?”

  He let out a chuckle. “I’m sure my mom thinks so.”

  Flora couldn’t help giving a small smile at this exchange. She stepped forward. “Even without a vision, we’re closer than we were. It has to be one of the two.”

  “Right,” Camdyn agreed. “Care to do the honors of picking which one?”

  Saelune’s lips curled. “The Grotto. It's the closest and I heard the beach there is to die for.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not literal.” he replied, half-joking.

  “Ha! Could be fun though. Catch some rays and some near-death action. Couldn’t ask for a better getaway.”

  “Don’t forget our calling, Bird. Ours is a path of purpose, not pleasure.”

  “How could I forget? You’ve only hammered your mission into my skull five inches deep.”

  “Then perhaps five inches more will see it done.”

  “Great. Just make sure it doubles as a lobotomy.”

  “Alright, alright,” Camdyn cut in, folding the map and slipping it into his bag. “You two need to figure out how to set aside your differences. We’ve got a Grotto to get to.”

  “Fine,” Saelune said with exaggerated resignation. “Let me grab my stuff and we’ll be off on this glorious not-a-vacation of ours.”

  She turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall, the sound of her footsteps light but unhurried.

  After a breath or two, Flora spoke. “I feel you made a mistake allowing her along.” she said.

  “Please don’t be mad.”

  She turned to him fully. “She’s a liability.”

  “You could probably say the same about me.”

  Her lip curled at the corner. “Perhaps, but you’re a pleasant one and I know where your heart is rooted.”

  “I think she just needs a little guidance. Some time,” he said. “There’s good in that chaos... I can feel it.”

  The uncertainty in her face didn’t waver.

  “You took a chance on me. Let me take a chance on her.”

  Flora let his words hang between them, thoughtful. Then, with quiet resolve, she nodded. “I trust you.”

  Moments later, Saelune reappeared, donning a dark, weathered cloak. She adjusted a strap slung across her chest as she approached.

  “You expecting it to be chilly at the beach?” Camdyn asked, raising a brow.

  “Let’s just say it helps me keep the ‘stone-throwing mobs’ to a minimum.”

  She pulled the hood over her head, the cloak’s magic weaving over her otherworldly features, softening them just enough so she could pass as human among others.

  “Alright, you wanted out, so let’s get a move on. This giant rock’s not gonna save itself.”

  She brushed past them, heading for the exit. That’s when Camdyn caught sight of the instrument on her back.

  “Is that… a guitar?”

  “Charango, actually.” she said as she strummed a dramatic chord with flair.

  Flora sighed heavily. “We are doomed.”

  Camdyn chuckled. “C’mon, Flora,” he said walking out ahead of her, arms spread open. “Lighten up. Who says we can’t have a little fun at the end of the world.”

  She didn’t smile exactly, but her shoulders relaxed just a little before she followed them into the light.