The Old Library stood in the eastern wing of the palace, a forgotten sanctuary of knowledge that predated even the kingdom's founding. Unlike the Grand Royal Library with its polished marble and gleaming gold accents, this ancient repository remained largely untouched by renovations or visitors. Dust motes danced in the pale moonlight that filtered through narrow windows as Prince Albert made his way through the towering shelves.
The night bell had tolled twice already—most of the palace would be asleep, save for the guards at their posts and perhaps a few servants finishing their duties. Albert moved silently, having long ago memorized which floorboards creaked and which corners to avoid. The meetings he held with Eldrin in this forgotten space were technically not forbidden, but neither were they something he wished to explain to the Royal Council.
At the far end of the library, past shelves of crumbling tomes and ancient scrolls, a small alcove was illuminated by a single oil lamp. Eldrin was already there, hunched over a spread of yellowed parchments, his weathered fingers tracing lines of text that Albert couldn't read from his position.
"Punctual as always, Your Highness," Eldrin said without looking up.
Albert settled into the chair opposite his advisor. "What did you find?"
Rather than answering immediately, Eldrin reached into his robes and extracted a small, worn leather volume. "This first," he said, sliding it across the table. "From the restricted archives."
The book was nondescript, with no title embossed on its cover. When Albert opened it, however, he realized its significance immediately. The pages contained handwritten journal entries, dated from his grandfather's reign.
"My father's personal account?"
Eldrin nodded. "King Roderick's private journals, at least those concerning the Keystones and the events leading to the Calamity."
Albert felt a chill despite the library's stuffiness. His father's words—not the carefully measured pronouncements of a king, but the raw thoughts of a man faced with power and consequence. He turned the pages carefully, scanning the elegant script that grew increasingly agitated as the entries progressed.
"He was obsessed with them," Albert murmured, stopping at a page where his father had sketched all seven Keystones in meticulous detail, with notes about their individual properties.
"Not initially," Eldrin corrected. "Your father was cautious by nature. It was the pressure from neighboring kingdoms, particularly Soray's military expansion, that drove him to explore the Keystones' full potential."
Albert continued reading, his brow furrowing as he reached entries dated just before the Calamity.
Sixteenth day of Harvest Moon, 1127
The Council remains divided. Blackthorn's father pushes for immediate deployment of the Crimson and Obsidian Keystones to fortify our borders, while Chancellor Whitewood counsels restraint. Eleanor worries for my health—claims I've grown pale and distracted. Perhaps she is right. Sleep eludes me as the Keystones call. Even locked in the vault below, I can feel their resonance, like voices just beyond comprehension.
I must resist the temptation to use them all at once. The ancient texts are clear on this point, though the reasons remain obscure. "The Seven united bring doom unless the Blood is true." What does it mean by "true"? Am I not the legitimate heir of Aldermere? Does royal blood not flow in my veins as it did in my father's?
Tomorrow we test the Azure and Emerald in tandem. May the wisdom of our ancestors guide us.
Albert looked up from the journal. "It's strange. He writes as if the Keystones were... alive somehow."
"Perhaps they are, in their fashion," Eldrin said, his voice dropping even lower. "The ancients believed they were not merely tools but entities with will and purpose. The royal line was thought to have a special connection to them—a symbiotic relationship, if you will."
"That sounds like superstition."
"Does it?" Eldrin raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me, Your Highness, what did you feel when Lord Blackthorn revealed the Azure Keystone in the council chamber?"
Albert hesitated, recalling the strange resonance he'd experienced—the pull toward the glowing crystal that had seemed almost like recognition.
"I felt..." He searched for words. "Like it knew me. Which is absurd, of course."
"Is it? Your ancestors built this kingdom with the Keystones' power. Generations of Aldermere blood have been exposed to their influence. Perhaps something of that connection remains, passed down through your lineage."
Albert returned to the journal, flipping to the final entry. The handwriting here was erratic, the ink blotched in places as if written in great haste.
Eve of the Crimson Moon, 1127
It was a mistake. The visions were lies. I see now what the texts meant—my blood is not pure enough to control all seven. The resonance patterns have destabilized, and the Void Keystone pulses with energies I cannot contain. Blackthorn insists we proceed with the ritual, but I've seen his eyes when he looks at the Keystones. There is hunger there, not duty.
I've sent word to stop the preparations, but I fear it may be too late. The Crimson Moon rises tonight, and the alignment is already affecting the Keystones' behavior. They glow even in darkness now, pulsing in unison like a heartbeat. If the worst happens, I pray history will understand I acted out of love for Aldermere, not lust for power.
May the gods protect Eleanor and our unborn child.
The entry ended abruptly. Albert stared at the page, a chill running through him. "Unborn child? But I was five years old when the Calamity occurred. Sophia wasn't born until two years after."
Eldrin's expression grew grave. "There was another child, Your Highness. A stillbirth, they said, though rumors persisted that the infant was affected by the magical backlash of the Calamity. Your father forbade any mention of it afterward."
Albert sat back, processing this revelation. "And this is why he banned magic? Because of what happened to his child?"
"That, and the devastation wrought upon the western provinces. The Blighted Lands remain uninhabitable to this day. Hundreds died when the magical energies spiraled out of control."
"But Blackthorn lives in the western province," Albert pointed out. "His lands border the Blighted territory."
"Indeed," Eldrin replied, "a fact I find most curious. Particularly given his sudden interest in reviving the use of Keystones."
Albert closed the journal, his mind racing. "Show me what else you've found."
Eldrin carefully unrolled one of the ancient parchments he'd been studying when Albert arrived. The document was written in an archaic script, with diagrams showing the seven Keystones arranged in different configurations.
"This predates the kingdom's founding," Eldrin explained. "It describes the discovery of the Keystones by your ancestor, Alaric. According to this account, he didn't simply find them—he was guided to them by visions."
"What kind of visions?"
"Dreams of a shimmering figure who called itself the Keeper of the Caldera. This entity revealed the location of the crystal chamber beneath the erupted mountain and instructed Alaric in the Keystones' basic use."
Albert studied the diagrams. "These formations—they're like ritual arrangements."
"Exactly so. The Keystones were never meant to be used individually, at least not for their full potential. They form a system, balancing and amplifying each other's properties when arranged correctly."
"And incorrectly?"
Eldrin's finger traced a particular formation marked with warning symbols. "Catastrophe. Which is precisely what occurred during the Crimson Moon. Your father attempted a formation that required... specific conditions he did not meet."
Albert was about to press for details when a sound from the library entrance caught his attention—the soft click of a door closing. Both men froze, listening intently. For a moment, there was only silence, then the unmistakable sound of soft footsteps approaching through the stacks.
Eldrin quickly gathered the parchments, sliding them into a hidden compartment beneath the table. Albert closed the journal and slipped it inside his doublet.
Around the corner of a bookshelf appeared a slender figure in a dark cloak. Albert's hand moved instinctively to the dagger at his belt, then relaxed as the figure pushed back their hood.
"Sophia," he sighed, a mixture of relief and irritation. "You should be in your chambers at this hour."
His sister's green eyes flashed with defiance. "As should you, brother dear. Unless laws of propriety apply only to princesses and not princes?"
She stepped fully into the alcove, her gaze taking in the hurriedly cleared table and Eldrin's guilty expression.
"Don't stop on my account," she said, pulling up a chair without invitation. "I've been following your nocturnal study sessions for weeks now. I simply decided it was time to join rather than eavesdrop."
Albert exchanged a glance with Eldrin, who gave the slightest of shrugs. "Princess Sophia has always possessed a keen intellect and resourcefulness," the old advisor said diplomatically.
"And excellent hearing," Sophia added with a small smile. "I heard enough to know you're discussing the Keystones, the Calamity, and a stillborn royal child no one has ever mentioned to me." Her expression sobered. "Why was I not told I had another sibling?"
Albert sighed. "I only learned of it myself moments ago."
"Then we're both being kept in the dark about our family's history." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper despite the library's emptiness. "But I haven't been idle, brother. I've been conducting my own research."
From within her cloak, Sophia withdrew a small book bound in green leather. "Mother's private diary. Not current—this is from twenty-two years ago, during the time of the Calamity."
Albert stared at her in shock. "You stole the Queen Mother's personal journal?"
"Borrowed," Sophia corrected primly. "And before you lecture me on propriety, consider that our parents have kept vital information from us—information that directly impacts our heritage and possibly our future."
Eldrin cleared his throat. "Perhaps, Your Highness, the princess could share what she's discovered? Time grows short, and the night watch will change soon."
Albert nodded reluctantly. "What have you found, Sophia?"
His sister opened the journal to a marked page. "It's not what I found, but what isn't here. Mother's entries stop abruptly three months before the Calamity and don't resume until nearly a year later. The pages in between have been carefully removed."
"That's hardly unusual," Albert said. "Personal journals often have gaps."
"Except for this." Sophia turned to the inside back cover, where something had been tucked into a small pocket. She carefully extracted a folded piece of parchment and opened it to reveal a diagram similar to those Eldrin had been studying—a specific arrangement of the seven Keystones.
But this diagram had annotations in their mother's elegant handwriting, including one phrase circled repeatedly: "The child is the key."
"I believe," Sophia said slowly, "that whatever happened during the Calamity, it wasn't just about Father's use of the Keystones. It had something to do with the child Mother was carrying—the child that supposedly died."
A heavy silence fell over the alcove. Albert felt the weight of the journal inside his doublet, as if the secrets it contained had physical mass.
Eldrin was the first to speak. "This... complicates matters. If the Queen Mother had knowledge of the Keystones' true nature—"
"Then she may know more about what's happening now," Albert finished. "About Father's illness, about Blackthorn's sudden appearance with the Azure Keystone."
Sophia nodded. "And about why I can do this."
Before either man could react, she held out her hand, palm up. A small green flame appeared, dancing above her skin without burning her. It cast an eerie glow across her face, illuminating her determined expression.
"Sophia!" Albert hissed, looking frantically toward the library entrance. "That's forbidden!"
"Is it forbidden because it's dangerous," she asked calmly, "or because our father fears what we might become if we embraced our heritage?"
With a small gesture, she extinguished the flame. "I discovered I could do this three years ago. I've been teaching myself in secret, using old texts I found hidden in a compartment beneath my bedroom floor. Magic runs in our blood, Albert. Denying it hasn't protected Father—it's killing him."
Eldrin studied the princess with new interest. "How long have you been able to manifest actual flame? Most untrained practitioners can only produce light or heat."
"Since the last full moon," Sophia admitted. "It's been growing stronger, especially since Blackthorn arrived with the Keystone. I can feel it... responding to me."
Albert ran a hand through his hair, struggling to process these revelations. His sister—a magic practitioner. His mother—possibly complicit in whatever led to the Calamity. And himself—increasingly certain that the strange dreams and sensations he'd been experiencing were connected to the Keystones and his royal bloodline.
"We need more information before we act," he decided. "Eldrin, continue your research into the Keystones' proper use. Sophia—" he fixed his sister with a stern gaze, "—no more magic in the open, regardless of how secure you think we are. And I want to see everything you've discovered in your studies."
"And what will you do?" Sophia asked.
Albert touched the outline of their father's journal through his doublet. "I'm going to speak with Mother. It's time for some honesty in this family."
As if to punctuate his words, the distant toll of the bell marked the changing of the guard. Their time was up.
"Tomorrow night," Eldrin said, rising stiffly from his chair. "Same hour. I'll bring what I can find on the royal bloodline's connection to the Keystones."
As they prepared to leave, Albert noticed Sophia staring thoughtfully at the spot where her magical flame had danced moments before.
"There's something else," she said quietly. "Something I haven't told anyone."
Both men paused, waiting.
"I've been having dreams," she continued. "About a figure made of light and shadow who calls itself the Keeper. It shows me the Caldera—the birthplace of the Keystones—and tells me that 'the time of awakening approaches.'" She looked up, meeting her brother's gaze. "Last night, it showed me you, Albert. Standing at the edge of the Caldera with all seven Keystones hovering around you. And it said... it said you would either save Aldermere or destroy it completely."
The silence that followed was broken only by the distant footsteps of guards beginning their rounds.
"We should go," Eldrin whispered, but his eyes never left the prince's face.
As they slipped from the Old Library through separate exits, Albert felt the Azure Keystone pulse against his chest from its hiding place. Just once, like a heartbeat acknowledging a truth he was only beginning to understand. The game of kingdoms indeed had begun—but it was only now that he realized how high the stakes truly were.
Whispers in the Library Whispers in the Library Whispers in the Library Whispers in the Library Whispers in the Library Whispers in the Library