Flynn's Point of View
The ruins breathed like a living thing.
Flynn stepped carefully over the shattered stone tiles, purple eyes scanning the ancient carvings half-buried in moss and time. The dusk had long passed, and only the glow of enchanted crystal lanterns lit the way. Beside him, Elior moved quietly ever vigilant, hand brushing the hilt of his sword whenever a sound echoed too sharply.
"This place feels wrong," Elior murmured, his voice low. "Like something's watching."
Flynn didn't respond immediately. He was staring at an emblem etched into the crumbling wall ahead a half-sun devoured by shadow.
He'd seen it before.
The same sigil from Lucian's letter.
"This wasn't just a temple," Flynn said at last, tracing the edge of the design. "It was a meeting ground. For them."
Elior stepped beside him. "The Ash Reborn?"
Flynn nodded. "What survived of them after Elaris fell. They didn't vanish… they just went underground."
Elior's brows furrowed. "But why here? In Winterbell lands?"
Flynn's throat tightened. Because someone let them.
He turned sharply, cloak flaring behind him. "We need to look deeper. There must be another chamber these markings suggest more below."
The two descended into the collapsed corridor that once led to the inner sanctum. Dust swirled around them as the ground sloped, the air growing colder. The deeper they went, the more intact the symbols became some still pulsing faintly with ancient magic.
Finally, they found it.
A hidden door embedded in the stone, locked with a mechanism of old magic and blood. Flynn stepped forward without hesitation, slicing his palm with a small blade. His blood touched the seal and the door shuddered open with a slow groan.
Inside was a chamber lined with broken statues and scattered papers. A long, black table sat in the center charred around the edges.
But it was what lay on top that chilled him.
A map of Winterbell. Marked with military movements, key strongholds, and worst of all acircle around the capital.
Elior's voice was tense. "This… this is planning. Someone inside the kingdom is feeding them information."
Flynn clenched his fists, heart hammering.
And tucked beneath the map was something else. A ring bearing the Caelum crest.
Not Khalid's current title as duke.
His former sigil back when he served Elaris.
Flynn stared at it, silence crashing around him. No one knew he was Caelan reborn. No one but himself.
And yet here, the past clawed its way forward.
"…Khalid," he whispered.
Elior glanced at him. "What?"
Flynn quickly folded the paper. "Nothing. Just… a ghost."
But ghosts leave trails.
Flynn rose, eyes dark with determination. "Let's burn this room. No one else should find it. Not yet."
Elior hesitated, but nodded. "What now?"
Flynn looked up the way they'd come. "Now… we watch who begins to move. The enemy is already inside our walls."
And he would find out if Khalid was still one of them or something else entirely.