The light around the archway grew until it filled the entire chamber. It did not glow like fire or moonlight. It shimmered like living mist. Ravel felt the hair on his arms stand as the air vibrated softly, as if the Crown itself drew a slow breath.
Seris watched the archway with her sword still sheathed but her hand resting near the hilt. Not out of fear but respect. Every movement in this place felt heavy with age.
"We step through together," Seris said quietly. "Never alone."
Ravel nodded. "I understand."
He still held the sphere against his chest. It felt warmer than before, as though it remembered everything the Crown had shown him. The weight had changed too. Not physically, but in the way he sensed it. It carried purpose now, and that purpose whispered in the back of his mind.
Return to the Rootspire.
The words refused to leave him.
He turned toward the archway. The stone frame no longer looked like stone. The surface flickered between solid and liquid, shifting like a curtain stirred by wind.
Ravel drew a steady breath. "Ready?"
Seris gave a single nod. "Walk."
They stepped into the light.
The ground seemed to fall away for a moment. The air spun, the world twisted, and Ravel felt as if he drifted between two heartbeats. Then his feet struck solid earth and the chamber vanished.
They stood at the edge of the ravine again.
The sky was brighter now, tinted with morning gold. Birds sang in the treetops and the forest seemed alive again, free of the oppressive weight the Crown created around its sanctuary.
Ravel looked behind them. The stone wall was seamless. No archway remained.
"It hides itself again," Seris said. "Good. No one should enter twice."
Ravel rubbed his hands together. "So where exactly is the Rootspire?"
Seris stepped ahead and pointed into the northern horizon. A faint silver haze drifted there, almost blending with the sky.
"Beyond the Silverwood," she said. "Through the ridge valleys, past the quiet plains, and then into the sealed lands."
"That sounds like a long journey."
"It is more than long," Seris said. "The sealed lands are barred by law, curse, and common sense."
"That will not stop us," Ravel said.
Seris chuckled softly. "I am aware."
They began to walk along the ravine edge, following a worn path that curved up toward the forest. The canopy above glowed warm gold, as if the morning sun chose this exact moment to greet them.
Ravel's thoughts shifted to the voice he heard inside the Crown.
It was not human. Not a memory. Something conscious. Something watching.
He looked at Seris. "Have you ever heard the Crown speak before?"
"Never," she said. "The Crown is quiet. It remembers but does not respond."
"So why speak now?"
Seris did not answer at first. She moved with the steady grace of a hunter, scanning the trees as they walked.
"Because whatever broke the circle long ago has awakened," she said finally. "And because you held one of the spheres."
"You think the sphere triggered it?"
"Yes. But only because you were the one carrying it."
Ravel frowned. "What does that mean?"
Seris slowed her pace and looked at him. "The Crown would not have spoken for just anyone. It recognized something in you."
Ravel felt his heartbeat quicken. "Something like what?"
Seris hesitated. "I do not know. And I will not pretend to."
They reached a slope covered in roots and moss. Seris climbed first, pulling herself up with practiced ease. Ravel followed, though the sphere made it awkward to balance at times.
When they reached the top, a gust of wind swept through the trees. Leaves spiraled through the air. Birds erupted from the branches.
A moment later, a distant horn sounded.
Ravel froze. "That is not a forest sound."
"No," Seris said. "That is a search call."
"From who?"
Seris crouched low. "The Empire."
Ravel swallowed hard. "For what?"
"Us."
Ravel tightened his grip on the sphere. "How did they know where to look?"
Seris scanned the treeline. "Old Crown magic leaves traces. Someone must have seen the lights."
Ravel felt a chill. "How many do you think?"
Seris rose just enough to peer across the slope. "At least three squads. Maybe four. They will spread out and sweep the forest."
Ravel looked at her. "What do we do?"
Seris turned sharply toward him, her eyes focused. "We move fast. We stay quiet. And no matter what, you do not lose that sphere."
Ravel nodded.
Seris grabbed his arm. "One more thing. If they find us, they will not take us alive. They know what the spheres can do."
Ravel felt sweat gather on his palms. "Then we make sure they do not find us."
Seris's expression softened for a moment. "Exactly."
They moved into the forest. Seris walked ahead, guiding him through narrow paths shaded by thick brambles and massive roots. She moved with precision and silence, avoiding any trail that looked too open.
Ravel followed closely. His body tense. His mind racing with the visions from the Crown. The ancient memory of the rituals. The broken circle. The empty pedestal. The Rootspire.
As they crossed through a dense patch of undergrowth, Ravel heard another horn. This one closer.
Seris stopped. "They are closing the distance."
Ravel whispered, "Do we run?"
"No. Running makes noise. We glide."
They moved again, deeper into darker parts of the forest. The trees grew taller and thicker, forcing the light into narrow shafts. Ravel's breath grew uneven, but he pushed himself to keep up with Seris's pace.
Another horn sounded, then faint shouts.
Seris clenched her jaw. "They are too close."
Ravel looked around frantically. "There must be a way out."
"There is," Seris said. "But you will not like it."
"What is it?"
She pointed ahead. The forest floor dipped sharply into a narrow crevice filled with tangled branches.
Ravel stared. "You want to hide in that?"
"No. We drop into it."
"That is worse."
"Correct," Seris said. "But we do it anyway."
Shouts rang behind them.
Seris grabbed his wrist. "Jump."
They leaped into the crevice. The branches snapped and tore around them as they plunged into the shadows below.
And above them, bootsteps thundered across the forest floor.
The Empire had arrived.