Arslan stood in the dust-laced silence of the ruined research vault, scrolls in hand, his pulse heavy in his ears. The flickering glowstone at his belt barely lit the charred room, casting shifting shadows on broken walls and shattered devices.
He gently unrolled the most intact scroll.
The parchment was aged and brittle, but the ink had somehow survived. Across the top, faded yet legible, was a title:
"High Council: Senior Research Facility Members – Internal Index"
Arslan's eyes widened as he read the names.
> 1. Saeed Aramis
2. Dr. Halric Vannor
3. Vessa Quarn
4. Zoris Lenth
5. Magren Isveth
His breath hitched when he saw it.
Saeed.
His father's name — clear as day.
He stood frozen for a moment, hearing nothing but the beat of his own heart.
> "There it is," Kar'Thæl whispered. "Your bloodline's root. He wasn't just a worker here — he was one of the five leaders."
Arslan whispered aloud, "He led this place… and never told anyone."
He reached for another scroll — it was partially burned but readable in parts. Diagrams filled the page. Blood sigils. Charts of compatibility. Handwritten formulas and notes.
"This one contains blood studies…" Arslan muttered.
He unrolled several others, scanning their content — mostly research logs on energy conduct, magical bonding, test subjects, some scribbled references to failed containment models. Many ended mid-sentence or were too scorched to interpret.
> "He studied bloodlines… experiments meant for specific people" Kar'Thæl murmured.
A faint tension built in Arslan's chest. Something was waiting… still hidden.
He turned slowly.
In the far corner of the ruined room, a stone cabinet was embedded into the wall — partially buried beneath debris and smoke-blackened beams. Its doors were thick, reinforced with iron bands, and marked with faded silver etchings.
Kar'Thæl's voice sharpened.
> "There… look at that. Vaults. Labeled."
Arslan stepped over rubble and broken floor tiles, reaching the heavy structure. He wiped the dust and ash from the front.
The cabinet was divided into compartments — five vaults, each once labeled with a name.
But the names had burned away.
All except a few scratches remained — faded impressions of glyphs. Arslan couldn't tell which vault belonged to his father.
He opened the first one. Empty.
Second — burned pages and broken crystal vials.
Third — dust and melted files.
Fourth — rusted seals and faded bone fragments.
He paused at the fifth vault.
Its lock was halfway broken.
He reached forward and pulled.
The hinges groaned, reluctant, but the door slowly creaked open.
Inside, there was almost nothing.
Just a small compartment.
Resting within: a blackened iron key, wrapped in cloth, and a folded letter sealed with a melted wax mark.
Arslan slowly unwrapped the cloth. The letter's edges crumbled slightly, but the text was untouched.
He opened it.
And read.
> "I hope my son, you will find this letter someday..."
Arslan froze.
The handwriting was familiar — old memories clawed back into him. Late nights with a father reading journals under lamplight. A warm hand tousling his hair when he slept.
> "Arslan, I am sorry for making you beyond the humans... I hope you will survive it."
His breath grew shallow. The room felt colder.
> "My son, your blood contains more than just yourself… I only wanted to make you powerful for the threat that will rise."
> "I will not stay long here, but you must. One day, you'll need to. This key will lead you — and Jarco's son — to the truth."
> "May the stars protect you. May you guard Lumisgrave... and the other worlds."
Arslan lowered the letter slowly. His hands trembled.
> "He knew," he whispered. "He knew this would happen."
Kar'Thæl's voice was quiet but deep with awe.
> "So your father wasn't just a researcher. He orchestrated your transformation... for survival. Not power."
Arslan didn't reply.
He took the key and tucked it securely into the folds of his cloak. He folded the letter with care and placed it near his chest, beneath his armor.
Kar'Thæl spoke again.
> "We found it. We have what we came for. Let's leave… before the wrong eyes find us here."
The night was darker now. Clouds rolled over the sky, muffling the moonlight.
Arslan stepped out of the ruins, boots stirring old ash. Aswad waited silently near the gate, alert and still. Arslan mounted without a word.
With a soft command, they galloped away from the ruins.
Each hoofbeat echoed like a clock — counting the seconds until everything would change.
The truth had been uncovered.
And the war hadn't even begun.