Caelum sat on the dusty library floor. The dark sword lay beside him. The gauntlet was in his lap. He looked at the empty box.
His father had lied. But why?
Caelum put the gauntlet aside and looked back into the box. He ran his small fingers along the inside. The red velvet lining was old and worn. He pressed down on the bottom. The wood felt solid.
He ran his fingers along the edges where the bottom met the sides. In one corner, he felt a small ridge. It was almost perfectly hidden. He pushed his fingernail into the thin crack and lifted.
A section of the bottom of the box came up. It was a false bottom.
Underneath was another, smaller compartment. It held only one thing. A silver pendant on a simple leather cord. The pendant was a flat, round disc of polished silver, smooth and cool to the touch. It looked like a small mirror.
Caelum picked it up. The silver was heavy in his small hand. This was a Soul Mirror, a rare type of magical object. Some ancient families crafted them to store memories. The mirror did not record images. It recorded the powerful emotions of the person who wore it, linking them to a single, important moment. The Ether of a strong feeling would be absorbed by the silver, saving an echo of that moment forever.
He held the pendant in his palm. His own Ether, the quiet power inside him, touched the silver.
The world vanished.
He was not in the dusty library anymore. He was standing in a huge, bright room with a high ceiling. A throne room. A stern-faced king sat on a golden throne.
His father, Thalen, stood before the king. He was younger, and he wore the fine silver armor of the King's Guard. He looked strong and proud.
Another man stood beside him. Lord Gareth. He had a smug look on his face.
"He planned to let the northern beasts through our lines," Lord Gareth said to the king. His voice was smooth and full of false concern. "He said your rule was weak."
"It is a lie!" Thalen's voice was a loud roar. Shock and betrayal were plain on his face.
The king looked at Thalen. His eyes were cold and angry. "I have seen the letters, Captain Thorne. In your own hand." He pointed a finger at Thalen. "You are a traitor. I strip you of your rank, your lands, and your title. Your sword is forfeit to the crown. Be grateful I grant you your life."
The feeling that hit Caelum was not his own. It was a wave of burning shame. Of helpless fury. Of a great pride being shattered into pieces. It was his father's memory. It was his father's pain.
The throne room faded.
Caelum was on his hands and knees on the library floor. The silver pendant was clutched tightly in his fist. The feeling of his father's deep, crushing humiliation still echoed inside him. He now understood. His father had not just lost a sword. He had lost his honor.