Chapter 93
The lid finally gave way with a soft click.
For one brief, glorious moment, I expected destiny. Not metaphorical destiny. Literal destiny. Ancient relics. Blinding light. A celestial choir. Maybe a booming voice proclaiming, At last... the heir has arrived.
Fantasy novels had given me standards.
Instead...
"...That's it?"
Inside the wooden box lay exactly two objects: a large parchment, folded with meticulous care, and a strange circular metal contraption. It was composed of two concentric rings covered in intricate geometric carvings and ancient runes, with a shallow circular recess sitting dead center.
I frowned, tracing the edge. "...Is that a dent?"
It looked oddly deliberate, as though something had once belonged there. I looked up at Rhaevan. "I feel cheated. I thought there'd at least be treasure that sparkled."
He had already picked up the metal device, slowly turning it over in his hands and studying every engraved line. His fingers traced the carvings before settling on the inner ring.
I stepped closer. I noticed faint scratches circling both rings. "They move?"
Without answering, he applied a little pressure. The inner ring resisted before shifting with a soft metallic scrape. A second ring rotated independently.
Click. Click.
The engravings settled into new positions, but nothing else happened. No hidden compartment, no blinding light, no ominous chanting. Rhaevan remained completely absorbed in the mechanism.
Meanwhile, I wandered toward the parchment. Carefully unfolding it across the desk, I stared.
Blank. Completely blank.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
There wasn't a single mark, no faded ink, no drawings, no cryptic symbols-just an enormous sheet of pristine parchment. I held it toward the window. Blank. I turned it upside down. Still blank.
"Maybe the important part's on the other side." I flipped it over. Blank again.
I sighed dramatically. "Ancient civilizations really enjoyed wasting paper."
Rhaevan still hadn't looked away from the mechanism. I glanced between the useless parchment and the spinning metal rings. "So... we have a fancy rotating plate and a very expensive piece of blank paper. I don't think Theo sent us across half the kingdom... for this."
"Cassiane."
I looked over. "May I borrow the compass Master Benedict gave you?" he asked. "The one that belonged to your mother."
"It's in my room."
I hurried to my room, reached into my satchel, and pulled out the old bronze compass. It looked just as ordinary as before. Carrying it back, I placed it into Rhaevan's waiting hand. "Here."
He positioned the compass above the circular recess. Neither of us spoke.
The size... it matched perfectly.
Very carefully, he lowered it into place. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then-click.
The innermost ring shifted on its own. A second click followed as another ring rotated with quiet mechanical precision. One after another, the concentric circles aligned themselves, the carved patterns flowing seamlessly across every ring as though they had always belonged together.
A final, satisfying click echoed through the room, followed by silence. The compass rested motionless at the center.
"...Did we break it?" I asked.
Rhaevan leaned closer, examining it from every angle. "No. I think it was broken into parts before."
He carefully lifted it free and held it out to me. "It's whole now."
I accepted it without thinking. The cool metal settled into my palm, feeling not just like an object I recognized, but the way your body remembers a place your mind has long forgotten.
Then the ache came.
It spread through my chest so suddenly that my breath caught. Home. The word surfaced without warning. Home.
I didn't know where. I didn't know why. Only that somewhere... I had lost it.
My vision blurred. I blinked once. Twice. A tear struck the bronze casing. I stared at it, confused, as another followed.
"...What?"
I wiped hastily at my face. Why was I crying? There were no memories, no visions, no voices whispering secrets-only an overwhelming grief, so deep and so old, as though I'd spent an entire lifetime searching for something precious... only to discover I couldn't even remember what I'd lost.
"Cassiane."
Rhaevan's voice had changed. I looked up to find real, unfiltered concern filling his expression. "...Are you alright?"
"I..." The word caught in my throat. A weak laugh escaped me instead. "I don't know."
Another tear slipped free. I tightened my grip on the compass. "It just..." I swallowed hard. "It feels like..."
No. There were no words. Only an unbearable certainty that if I let go of the compass... I'd lose something all over again.
"I don't understand." The tears came faster. " ... I'm sorry..."
The apology dissolved into a sob. I pressed the heel of my hand against my eyes, trying to stop them, but it only made them fall harder. "I..."
I couldn't stop crying.
Rhaevan took one hesitant step toward me. His hand lifted slightly, then paused. For the briefest moment, he seemed uncertain whether he should cross that invisible line between us.
Then, with infinite care, his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek.
"Cassiane..."
There was no composure left in his voice-only quiet worry. Another tear escaped despite my efforts. That seemed to make the decision for him.
Slowly, gently, he drew me into his embrace.
I didn't resist. For reasons I couldn't begin to understand, holding that compass against my chest with his arms wrapped securely around me... for the first time since I'd arrived in this world...
I felt like I was grieving a home I could no longer remember.
We sat in silence for what felt like a very long time.
Neither of us spoke. The compass rested between us, perfectly fitted into the strange metal mechanism, while the blank parchment remained spread across the table as though quietly mocking our expectations.
.....
I had stopped crying. Mostly.
The tears were gone, but the ache in my chest hadn't followed them. It lingered-heavy, unfamiliar. I couldn't explain it, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Eventually, I broke the silence.
"All this time..." I said quietly, my eyes never leaving the table. "I thought I belonged to a broken, fallen bloodline."
My fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the parchment. "A family cursed with forbidden magic."
I let out a small, humorless laugh. "I guess I simply believed what everyone else believed about them."
Rhaevan remained silent. He never rushed to fill quiet moments. Perhaps that was why talking to him never felt difficult.
I drew a slow breath. "But..." The word lingered between us. "I don't want that to be how they're remembered."
My gaze drifted toward the compass, toward the relic my mother had left behind. "They protected the world. And the world repaid them by calling them traitors."
I slowly shook my head. No.
"I won't let that be the end of their story." The words settled over the room like a promise. "I'll find out what really happened. Whoever buried the truth... I'll uncover it. And whoever stole their name... I'll give it back."
A thoughtful silence followed.When I finally looked up, I found Rhaevan watching me. There was something different about his expression-something softer, warmer.
"I think," he said at last, his voice quiet and steady, "they would have been proud of you. I don't think they could have asked for more."
Something tightened painfully in my chest. I looked away before he could notice. "...You're terrible at comforting people."
One of his eyebrows rose. "I thought I was doing rather well."
"You almost made me cry again."
The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. "I'll make a note of that."
The heaviness in the room eased, if only a little. After a comfortable silence, I leaned back in my chair and gestured vaguely toward the assortment of ancient objects occupying the table. "So... what now?"
Rhaevan's gaze shifted to the blank parchment. "Now," he said, tapping a finger lightly against the empty parchment, "we determine what this is."
I looked at the enormous blank sheet. "Well then..."
I cracked my knuckles dramatically. "Let's interrogate the suspicious piece of paper."