The sound of breaking glass still echoed in Lysander's mind as they pressed deeper into the tunnel.
The chamber of mirrors was not the end. A narrow passage branched off from behind the broken panel, the edges scored with fresh chisel marks.
"Someone's been here," Elara said.
"Recently," Lysander confirmed, running his fingers along the stone. "The dust hasn't had time to settle."
---
The passage sloped downward, the air growing heavier.
Lanternlight caught on veins of faintly glowing mineral in the walls — threads of silver and pale blue, pulsing softly, as though the mountain itself had veins of the Weave running through it.
"This isn't in any palace record," Elara murmured.
"It wouldn't be," Lysander replied. "Veins like this were sealed centuries ago. Too much power in too small a space."
The deeper they went, the more the glow intensified, until the narrow corridor opened into a vault-like chamber.
---
At its center stood a pedestal of the same mirrored stone as above. Upon it rested a sigil — not carved, but suspended in midair, turning slowly, its shape a perfect circle broken by a jagged crack.
The hair at Lysander's neck prickled.
"It's a fragment," he said. "Of the original oath seal."
Elara stepped closer. "The one the Keeper said was shattered?"
"Yes. But this isn't just a piece — it's an anchor. A conduit to the Weave's memory of the oath."
---
A faint sound stirred in the chamber — like cloth dragging across stone.
They turned.
A figure stood in the far archway. Cloaked in pale, dust-colored fabric, hood shadowing their face. In one hand, a small lantern. In the other… a shard, darker than night, faintly pulsing.
Lysander felt the pull of it immediately — the same magnetic wrongness as the Prophet's corrupted fragment, but sharper. Hungrier.
The figure spoke, their voice soft but clear.
"You're too late. The fracture is already fed."
Elara's hand went to her sword. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted their head. "A Keeper… of a different kind."
They stepped back into the shadows, the pale cloak vanishing as though the stone itself had swallowed them.
---
Lysander moved to pursue, but the glowing veins in the wall flared brightly — and then dimmed.
"They closed it," he said, frustration low in his voice. "Collapsed the path."
Elara looked at the floating sigil fragment. "Then what now?"
Lysander studied it for a long moment.
"Now," he said, "we see what they were so desperate to keep us from finding."