The book had no title. Its cover was made of leather worn smooth by time. When he opened it, the pages flipped on their own, moving faster and faster until they stopped at the center. One phrase filled the page in a handwriting that felt eerily familiar:
"You are not the first to seal a gate. But you might be the first to stay."
Jude stared at the words. Nyra stepped beside him, reading over his shoulder. "What does it mean?" "I don't know. But it was written for me." The pages turned again, slower this time, revealing sketches, maps of places that no longer existed, diagrams of runes Jude had only seen in dreams, faces he didn't recognize but felt drawn to. And then, a symbol, a new one, etched in bold ink at the bottom of the last page. A circle divided into three parts. One black, one white, one grey. Nyra touched it. The room pulsed.
Not with magic. With memory.
