The throne room had grown still.
Not the peaceful kind of stillness—but the kind that pressed against the chest, heavy and watchful. The crimson glow from Seraphina's amulet had faded, yet the air still felt charged, as though something unseen had passed through and left a trace behind.
King Alaric remained standing beside his daughter. One hand rested lightly on her shoulder, grounding her, while his gaze never left Kael.
"You said the amulet remembers," the king said at last. His voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. "What exactly does that mean?"
Kael did not answer immediately. He studied the amulet instead, his expression unreadable, as if he were listening to something only he could hear.
"It means," he said slowly, "that the amulet has crossed paths with someone it knows."
Seraphina's breath caught. "Knows… how?"
Kael lifted his eyes to hers. "Not by name. Not by face. But by essence. By soul. Some bonds are carved too deeply to fade—even across time."
The words settled uneasily between them.
King Alaric frowned. "And what happens to this person?"
Kael exhaled softly. "They are pulled."
Seraphina stiffened. "Pulled where?"
"Toward the amulet," he replied. "Toward its bearer. Toward what was once theirs—or what they once failed to protect."
The king's jaw tightened. "And this pulling… is it harmless?"
Kael shook his head once. "No. In accordance to the amulet's history, It begins quietly. Restlessness. Dreams that feel too real. A sense of wrongness when they try to stay where they are. The closer the bond, the stronger the pull."
Seraphina's fingers curled around the chain at her neck. "And if they resist?"
Kael hesitated, just for a moment. "Then it hurts. The amulet does not enjoy being ignored."
Silence followed.
King Alaric turned away, pacing a few steps before stopping near the base of the throne. "You don't know who this person is," he said. It wasn't a question.
"No," Kael admitted. "And that is what makes this dangerous."
"Because they could be anyone," Seraphina whispered. "Anywhere."
"Yes."
The king closed his eyes briefly, the weight of the kingdom pressing down on him once more. When he opened them, his decision was already made.
"We cannot wait for fate to stumble into our halls," he said firmly. "If the amulet has begun calling, then we must respond."
He turned to one of the guards standing at the edge of the chamber. "Send word to every corner of Altheris. Every village. Every border town."
The guard straightened. "What shall we announce, Your Majesty?"
King Alaric paused, glancing at Seraphina—at the amulet glowing faintly against her chest.
"Tell them this," he said. "Anyone who have felt strange dreams, unexplained pulls, visions tied to an ancient relic… are to come forward. The crown seeks answers. And the amulet is no longer silent."
The guard bowed, then turned and left the chamber, his boots echoing against the stone floor—the sound lingering in the throne room long after he was gone.
Seraphina swallowed. "And if the person hears the announcement?"
Kael's gaze darkened slightly. "Then the choice will be theirs."
"To come," she said softly.
"Or continue hiding and believe me when I say they cannot resist the amulet's pull for long," he replied.
Although Seraphina wanted to trust Kael she could not quiet the unease settling in her chest. Every word he spoke carried certainty, the kind that came from knowledge earned over time, not guesswork. And that frightened her.
Who was he, truly, to know so much about an amulet that was not his?
To speak of its memories, its temper, its bonds—as though he had lived alongside it rather than merely studied it?
The thought followed her like a shadow as the palace stirred into motion.