Chapter 4: Shadows in the Library
The second year of Elias von Durell's life unfurled like silk—smooth, beautiful, and threaded with unseen tensions.
Winter's long grasp had finally eased its fingers from the northern reaches of Ederlan, and early spring touched the highland estates with frost-kissed crocuses and windward grass. From the east-facing balconies of Velindor Hall, one could see the jagged silhouette of the Obsidian Vale, a ravine system said to hide both precious crystal veins and forgotten shrines from the continent's first age.
It was into this world of storied land and watchful ancestors that Elias now toddled—quietly, curiously, with a gaze far older than his frame.
---
On the day his younger brother was born, the household was thrown into celebration.
Duchess Celene gave birth in the same celestial birthing chamber that had welcomed Elias—a vaulted room perfumed with silverbark resin, its dome enchanted to simulate a calm, moonlit sky.
This time, however, Elias was not within the chamber but seated in the adjoining Observation Cloister, his small hands wrapped around a carved wooden gryphon.
He understood enough of the midwife's chants and the magical pulse in the air to know the birth was progressing safely.
It was only hours later, when the servants announced, "A second son, hale and healthy," that Elias let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
So, I have a brother. The lines of succession shift.
The new child was named Theron von Durell.
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The arrival of Theron sparked a new tide of attention—visiting nobles, gift exchanges, and renewed alliances.
Elias, ever observant, began to notice how subtle shifts occurred in conversation when the Duke discussed inheritance. Theron was described as "bright-eyed," "a miracle in his own right," and "blessed under Sevelyn's second moon."
Elias felt no jealousy. But curiosity? Yes.
How will he be shaped? How will I be measured against him?
And so he turned further inward. Into study.
---
By midspring, Elias discovered the Vaulted Library of Durell, a secluded annex beneath the western wing of the estate.
It was a realm unto itself—narrow aisles, wrought-iron spiral stairs, floating light-ember lanterns. The scent of vellum, ink, and time filled the air. Bookshelves loomed like canyon walls, and the floor creaked only when one walked with uncertainty.
The librarian was a withered man named Curator Meldren, whose beard trailed like an old curtain and whose speech echoed like a fading incantation.
"You're too young for most of what dwells here," he said when Elias first entered, escorted by Tutor Orthel.
Elias pointed to a runebound primer. "Start with this."
Meldren paused. "That's… Second Circle material."
Orthel raised a brow. "He's already deciphered First Circle constructs. Let him try."
---
Elias read as if to inhale meaning.
Runes danced in his mind not as static shapes but as living logic—organic, pulsing, evolving. One glyph, shaped like a downward arc pierced by five rays, appeared again and again across various scrolls. It was called Syreth, the Rune of Binding Will.
But more interesting than its linguistic root was where Elias found it—on warding diagrams, in battle strategy texts, and even in a genealogy chart marked with ancient bloodlines.
Why would a rune tied to magical dominance appear on a family tree?
He dug deeper.
In a long-forgotten tome titled "Doctrine of the Sealed Flame," he found notes from Syrel Durell himself—the Philosopher-Mage ancestor mentioned at his first-year ceremony.
> "The Philosopher's Core is not inherited. It is seeded. The Rite was lost after the Second Treaty, but echoes of its purpose remain."
> "One day, a child may stir it again. Not by blood alone. But by question."
So even Syrel suspected it wasn't merely bloodline-based…
A sharp knock echoed in the library.
Meldren appeared, eyes narrowed. "Young master Elias. You are requested at the greenhouse."
---
The Velindor Greenhouse was less a botanical garden and more a magical archive of flora.
Glass panes enchanted to reflect only harmful rays. Vines singing under light. Small golem bees tending to bloom clusters. And in the center: Duchess Celene seated in a curved wicker throne, Theron nestled in her lap.
"Elias," she said warmly. "Come see your brother."
He approached, cautious.
Theron's eyes were a paler blue than his own, but gleamed with unmistakable intelligence. The baby giggled as Elias neared, reaching out.
Elias took his hand. It was warm. Real.
A strange tingle passed between them.
[Passive Trait Detected: Arcane Entanglement]
> Your bloodline shares a unique magical signature. Future growth may reflect mirrored affinities.
He blinked.
Celene noticed his expression. "Do you sense it?"
"Yes," Elias answered softly.
She smiled with the faintest trace of sorrow.
"Then be kind to him. Someday, the world will not be."
---
The days that followed were filled with contrasts.
Elias in the Library. Theron with the nursemaids.
Elias practicing manascript writing with Tutor Orthel, forming calligraphic spell-glyphs. Theron babbling musical tones that caused teacups to vibrate.
[Notice: Theron von Durell exhibits early signs of Sonic Affinity]
Elias recorded everything. Not with resentment, but with the care of a scholar observing a vital subject.
---
That spring, a visiting noble—Baron Halstram—gifted House Durell an automaton owl made of brass and sapphire eyes. He claimed it was enchanted for learning songs.
Theron adored it.
But one night, Elias saw it move unnaturally.
It tilted its head, unprompted, and muttered a phrase in an ancient tongue:
> "Heir of the Sealed Flame… Shall it awaken again?"
Elias's system flared.
[Hidden Trigger Identified: Artifact of Watchful Flame]
> Legacy object bound to ancestral oath. Subsystem integration possible at higher Core development.
He watched the owl return to dormancy.
Something is watching. And not just from within this estate.
---
The next morning, he returned to the Library, found Meldren dozing upright, and carefully slipped into the restricted section.
There, bound in blackwood leather and wrapped in silver thread, lay a codex titled:
"The Third Sigil: Records of Pre-Kingdom Bloodcraft."
He opened it.
And found the first image was the Rune of Syreth, drawn atop a shadowed crest: a serpent biting its own tail.
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End of Chapter 4