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The Sigil

  Jade

  I sat alone in the quiet of my quarters, the pendant the mystery woman had given me resting in my hand. Its intricate sigil seemed to shimmer faintly, though the light in the room was dim. I traced the design with my fingers, my mind racing.

  The sigil looked familiar, like something I'd seen in old texts or half-forgotten stories. But no matter how much I tried to place it, the answer eluded me.

  Pulling out a worn notebook where I jotted down everything I thought might be useful, I sketched the pendant's design. Then, I flipped through the pages, searching for any mention of it in my notes from home. After several long minutes, I found it—a rough, faded drawing of a similar sigil from a page I'd copied from an ancient Liche Clan tome back in Canu Village.

  The notes beneath the drawing were sparse:

  "Mark of the Finder. Only they can open the path. Connected to Findel, the Lost."

  I leaned back in my chair, staring at the words. Findel. The Lost. Could it be referring to Hue?

  My stomach twisted. Hue didn't know his heritage—not fully. None of us had suspected his connection to the Liche Clan until his power manifested during the fight in the INKVOY arena. But now... now I couldn't shake the idea that there was more to his story than even he realized.

  Could Hue be the "Finder"? And if he was, did that mean he could open the shed back in Canu Village—the one we'd never been able to enter, no matter how hard we tried? My thoughts spiraled, each question leading to another with no answers in sight.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples. Thinking in circles wasn't going to help.

  Deciding I needed a distraction, I left my room and went looking for Gashiaz. She was the only one who might offer some clarity—if not about the pendant, then about the broader chaos swirling around us.

  I found her in the palace training yard, practicing strikes against a wooden dummy. Her movements were fluid and precise, each swing of her weapon purposeful.

  "Gashiaz," I called, stepping into the yard.

  She paused, wiping sweat from her brow as she turned to me. "Jade. What brings you here?"

  I held up the pendant briefly before slipping it back into my pocket. "I need your perspective on something, but not about this."

  She gave me a curious look but didn't press. "Then what is it?"

  "The Fiam Clan civil war," I said, crossing my arms. "I know half the clan has left for the Crea Kingdom to help maintain peace. What does that mean for Belfour? For us?"

  Gashiaz frowned, leaning on her weapon. "It means the Fiam Clan is fractured. The ones who stayed in the Belfour Kingdom are trying to prevent the conflict from spilling over into other kingdoms, but the ones who left for the Crea... they're preparing for war."

  "And Belfour?" I asked. "What's the King's stance on all this?"

  "The King supports peace," Gashiaz said, though her tone was guarded. "But supporting peace doesn't mean staying neutral. If the Fiam Clan collapses entirely, it could destabilize the entire region. Belfour would have no choice but to intervene, if only to protect its borders."

  I frowned, my mind racing. "Do you think the split was deliberate? A way to divide and weaken the Fiam Clan?"

  "It's possible," she admitted. "But it's just as likely that the split was born from desperation. Not everyone in the Fiam Clan wants war. Those who left for Crea might see it as their only chance to preserve their way of life."

  I nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "Do you think it'll come to that? War?"

  Gashiaz's expression darkened. "It's already started, Jade. The only question is how far it'll spread."

  I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest.

  For a moment, we stood in silence, the distant sounds of the city filtering through the still night air.

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  "Thanks, Gashiaz," I said finally.

  She nodded. "Anytime."

  As I walked back to my quarters, the pendant felt heavier in my pocket, its presence a constant reminder of the questions I still didn't have answers to.

  Findel. The Lost. Hue.

  And now, the Fiam Clan's unrest threatening to destabilize everything.

  It felt like the world was balancing on a knife's edge, and I wasn't sure which way it would fall.

  But one thing was certain: if I was going to figure out the truth—about Hue, the pendant, and the Liche Clan—I needed to act before it was too late.

  I paced my quarters, unable to shake the feeling that time was slipping through my fingers. The pendant's sigil shimmered faintly on the sketch in my notebook, its meaning just out of reach. The words from my notes—Mark of the Finder. Only they can open the path. Connected to Findel, the Lost—echoed in my mind, refusing to settle.

  Hue. Could he really be the Finder? And if he was, what path was he meant to open?

  The implications gnawed at me. If the pendant was tied to the Liche Clan's secrets, then it might hold the key to uncovering truths long buried. But whatever those truths were, they would undoubtedly carry consequences—ones I wasn't sure any of us were ready for.

  I left my quarters again, this time heading to the infirmary. Hue and Thornton were still unconscious, their bodies fighting to recover from the aftermath of the arena battle. My gaze lingered on Hue's pale face, his features soft and unassuming. How could someone so gentle wield power capable of shaking the foundations of our world?

  As I reached out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, a faint pulse of warmth radiated from the pendant in my pocket. I froze, my breath catching. Slowly, I pulled it out and held it near Hue.

  The pendant glowed softly, the sigil on its surface pulsing in rhythm with his breathing.

  "Finder," I whispered, the word slipping from my lips unbidden.

  A quiet gasp drew my attention, and I turned to see Lyra standing in the doorway, her usually bright eyes wide with alarm.

  "You felt it too, didn't you?" she asked, stepping into the room.

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  Lyra moved closer, her gaze fixed on the pendant. "I don't know what that is, but I can feel its power. It's... ancient. Older than anything I've ever encountered."

  "It's connected to Hue," I said, my voice steadier now. "And to the Liche Clan."

  Her expression darkened. "Do you think the King knows?"

  I hesitated, the memory of King Belfour's confession flashing in my mind. He had admitted that Hue wasn't of royal blood and had left it at that. But had he truly told me everything?

  "I don't know," I admitted. "But I have to find out."

  Lyra nodded slowly. "If you're going to confront him, you'll need proof. Something more than a glowing pendant and old notes."

  She was right. If I wanted answers, I couldn't rely on speculation and half-truths. I needed something concrete—something undeniable.

  "Stay here with them," I said, gesturing to Hue and Thornton. "If anything changes, come find me."

  Lyra didn't argue. "Be careful, Jade."

  I slipped out of the infirmary, the pendant clutched tightly in my hand. My destination was clear: the royal archives. If there was any place that might hold the answers I sought, it was there.

  The royal archives were housed in a secluded wing of the palace, their entrance guarded by two towering Guar Knights. I approached cautiously, crafting my excuse in case they questioned me.

  To my surprise, they stepped aside without a word, allowing me to pass. I hesitated, then nodded in thanks before slipping inside.

  The air within the archives was cool and musty, the faint scent of aged parchment filling my lungs. Shelves stretched high above, lined with tomes and scrolls chronicling centuries of Belfour's history.

  I moved quickly, scanning the rows for anything related to the Liche Clan or the Finder. My fingers brushed against spines and bindings, my eyes darting over titles until one caught my attention: The Forgotten Clans: A History of the Extinct.

  Pulling the book from the shelf, I flipped through its brittle pages until I found a section dedicated to the Liche Clan. The text was sparse, filled with half-truths and conjecture, but one passage stood out:

  The Liche Clan possessed a relic of immense power, said to be a key to the hidden heart of their dominion. It was rumored to have been lost during the clan's fall, though some believe it was hidden to protect its secrets.

  The words sent a chill down my spine. Could the pendant be that relic? And if it was, what secrets did it guard?

  A soft noise behind me made me whirl around, my hand instinctively reaching for my weapon.

  "Searching for something?"

  King Belfour stood in the doorway, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the corridor.

  "I could ask you the same," I replied, tucking the book behind me.

  He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You've shown me that you are clever, Jade. Too clever for your own good, perhaps. Before we start I want to mention that my Guar Knights never lost sight of you when you tried to evade, but I believe in free will and you seemed like you needed alone time"

  My grip on the book tightened. "What aren't you telling me?"

  The King's gaze fell to the pendant in my hand, his eyes narrowing. "That should have been destroyed long ago."

  "Why?" I demanded. "What is it? What does it mean?"

  "It's a piece of a puzzle better left unsolved," he said, his tone heavy with finality. "The truths it guards would only bring chaos."

  I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. "Chaos or not, I need to know. Hue deserves to know."

  The King's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse. But then he sighed, the weight of his years settling on his shoulders.

  "Very well," he said. "But remember, Jade: once you learn the truth, there's no going back."

  He gestured for me to follow, and I did, the pendant burning like a brand against my palm.

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