I leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed over my chest as I observed Emerson Holmes fumbling with the token. The gathered young masters and mistresses of Veridia City's elite families waited with barely contained excitement, whispering among themselves about what secrets the Scripture Pavilion might hold. Their eagerness amused me; they had no idea what real power looked like.
The token in Holmes' hand began to glow more intensely as he pressed it against the door. Ancient runes carved into the stone flickered to life, responding to the mystical key.
"Almost there," Holmes muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration.
A ripple of anticipation passed through the crowd—then suddenly faltered as a cold, commanding voice cut through the morning air.
"Stop what you're doing immediately."
