As we continued our research, a clearer timeline emerged. Three generations ago, the last Ley Line Walker advisors had been removed from court. Conventional well-based extraction had become the exclusively approved method for accessing magical energy. Companies like the Phoenix Collective had secured royal charters giving them monopolies over specific regions.

  And the knowledge of how the currents truly functioned—how they could be guided rather than merely tapped—had been systematically erased from official records.

  "This might explain why my mother was so cryptic about our family history," I said, thinking back to her reluctance to discuss our "abilities" openly. "She wasn't just being difficult—she was protecting what little knowledge remained."

  "A prudent precaution," Morgana noted. "Historical probability analysis suggests a ninety-two percent likelihood that families who openly maintained Ley Line Walker traditions faced more aggressive suppression than those who appeared to abandon them."

  I turned my attention to the most recent documents we'd gathered—engineering reports from the last decade detailing "maintenance issues" with the palace convergence. The clinical language couldn't disguise the growing alarm as extraction rates exceeded sustainable levels year after year.

  "They've known the system was failing for at least twenty years," I said, anger building as I read assessments that had clearly been ignored. "Engineers warned repeatedly that the extraction methods were damaging the underlying current structures."

  "Profit and convenience outweighed sustainability," Dureforge said with the resignation of someone who'd seen this pattern before. "The same reason our border defenses remain undermanned despite repeated warnings."

  A particular report caught my attention—a detailed assessment of alternative extraction methods dated just three years ago. It referenced Project Wellspring directly, describing early experiments with "bloodline-enhanced redirection techniques."

  "This mentions test subjects," I said, feeling sick as I read between the lines. "Individuals with Ley Line Walker heritage being used to attempt current redirection."

  Morgana examined the document over my shoulder. "The clinical terminology obscures the reality. They were experimenting on people like you—those with dormant abilities that could be forcibly activated."

  "Successfully?" Dureforge asked.

  Morgana turned to the final pages. "Not by their metrics. Ninety-seven percent subject mortality rate. The remaining three percent achieved partial redirection but suffered 'catastrophic mental deterioration.'"

  A polite way of saying the survivors went mad. I thought of the mercenary leader's words about the seven others captured this year, all with "different responses, different abilities."

  "They're getting desperate," I concluded. "The wells are failing faster than publicly acknowledged, and their experiments aren't yielding usable results."

  "Which makes you exponentially more valuable," Morgana said. "Your natural awakening and successful adaptation represent a statistical anomaly they cannot ignore."

  I sat back, mind reeling from implications. My ancestors had helped create the very systems now failing. They'd been removed from power when commercial interests found their methods too difficult to control. And now, generations later, those same commercial interests were hunting their descendants to salvage what remained.

  "There's something else we should look for," I said suddenly. "If my family helped design the original convergence, they might have created failsafes or alternative access points. Places where the system could be adjusted without damaging the underlying currents."

  Dureforge nodded. "Smart. Military installations always include emergency protocols. Magical infrastructure would logically follow the same principle."

  We returned to Corrington's journals, specifically searching for mentions of system safeguards. Eventually, in the final volume, we found what we sought.

  "The Balance Chambers," I read aloud. "Three equidistant locations surrounding the central convergence, designed to monitor and adjust flow patterns as needed."

  Accompanying the text was a map showing their locations—one beneath what was now the Temple of Celestial Harmony in the western district, another under the old observatory tower at the university, and the third beneath the ancient bridge spanning the river Veris.

  "They form a triangle," Morgana observed, "with the palace convergence at the center. A geometric stabilization pattern consistent with Ley Line Walker methodologies I've studied in Covenant archives."

  Another illustration caught my eye—a fourth chamber directly beneath the palace itself. "The Central Control Chamber," I read. "Connected to the three Balance Chambers and serving as the primary monitoring station for the entire system."

  "Could these chambers still function?" I asked. "After centuries of neglect?"

  "Probability calculations suggest sixty-four percent likelihood of basic functionality remaining," she replied. "Ley Line Walker designs typically incorporated self-maintaining elements that resist decay."

  Captain Dureforge checked the time. "We should leave soon. The archivist has passed by twice already—his suspicion is growing."

  I quickly copied the map showing the Balance Chambers and the Central Control Chamber, then gathered the most pertinent documents for return to the archival desk. As we prepared to leave, Morgana suddenly stiffened, her amber eyes focusing on something beyond the physical room.

  "Detection sweep in progress," she whispered. "Phoenix security protocols. Someone has flagged our research activities."

  Dureforge immediately moved toward the door. "Leave everything. We need to exit now."

  "Too late," Morgana countered. "Security personnel are already approaching the eastern wing. Probability of interception at primary exits exceeds eighty-six percent."

  I felt a surge of panic that I quickly suppressed. "Alternatives?"

  Morgana closed her eyes briefly, calculating. "Service corridor connecting to the kitchen gardens. Forty-seven percent chance of interception, our best option."

  "Lead the way," Dureforge said, hand moving to her sword hilt.

  I tucked the map into my jacket, leaving the rest of our research scattered across the table. As we slipped from the reading room, I caught a glimpse of figures in Phoenix Collective uniforms entering the main archival chamber—security personnel moving with the purposeful stride of those hunting specific prey.

  Morgana guided us through a warren of narrow corridors, making turns that seemed random but somehow always led away from approaching footsteps. Her probability manipulation was actively redirecting security patterns, creating bubbles of statistical unlikelihood around our presence.

  "Wait," I whispered as we passed a nondescript wooden door. Something pulled at my awareness—a current flowing strongly beneath the floor, one that resonated with the patterns I'd seen in Corrington's diagrams.

  "This isn't the time for exploration," Dureforge hissed.

  "It's not random," I insisted, placing my palm against the door. "There's a current access point behind this door. I can feel it."

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  Morgana hesitated, then nodded. "Maintenance shaft. Probability indicates it may provide a more direct escape route than my original calculation."

  The door opened to reveal a narrow vertical shaft with metal rungs embedded in the stone wall. A service passage for maintaining the palace's extensive infrastructure—and, I suspected, for accessing the current system directly.

  "Down," I said with unexpected certainty. "The flow is stronger below."

  Dureforge looked skeptical but didn't argue. "I'll go first. These metal hands are good for more than just strangling Phoenix mercenaries."

  We descended into darkness, Morgana producing a small luminescent token that provided just enough light to avoid missteps. The shaft extended far deeper than I'd expected, well below what should have been the palace's lowest level.

  When we finally reached the bottom, we found ourselves in a narrow tunnel that curved gently in both directions. The currents I'd sensed from above were now undeniable—a powerful flow that made the ring on my finger vibrate against my skin.

  "We're beneath the palace foundation," I realized. "In the maintenance passages for the current system itself."

  The tunnel walls were lined with crystalline veins that pulsed faintly with magical energy, supported by metal frameworks holding them in specific geometric alignments.

  At intervals, we passed what appeared to be control mechanisms—crystal arrays set into bases of an unfamiliar metal, their configurations clearly designed to interface with the flowing energy.

  Dureforge examined our surroundings with practiced military assessment. "These tunnels must connect to the city's drainage system eventually. If we follow them far enough, we should find an exit beyond Phoenix security perimeters."

  "This direction," I said, pointing left where the current flowed strongest through the crystalline conduits. "It's pulling toward something."

  "Probability of successful departure along that route: fifty-eight percent," Morgana calculated. "Acceptable under current circumstances."

  We moved as quickly as the narrow space allowed, the tunnel gradually widening as we progressed. Periodically, we passed small chambers containing more complex crystalline arrays connected to metal control mechanisms—interfaces where physical components could interact with the non-physical magical energy flowing through the crystals.

  "Flow control mechanisms," Morgana explained when I paused to examine one. "The crystalline structures serve as conduits for the magical currents, while these metal components allow for adjustment of their alignment."

  "Most of the crystals are darkened or misaligned," I noticed. "Disrupting the natural flow."

  "Consistent with overconsumption patterns," she agreed. "The system is being artificially constrained to direct maximum energy to extraction points."

  As we continued, I felt increasingly drawn to the current itself—not just aware of it, but somehow resonating with its patterns. The blue markings that had faded from my skin seemed to pulse beneath the surface again, responding to proximity.

  "We're approaching something significant," I warned as the sensation intensified. "A major junction or access point."

  The tunnel opened suddenly into a circular chamber that stopped me in my tracks. The walls were lined with intricate crystalline arrays far more complex than those in the tunnels, all connected to a series of control mechanisms arranged around a central dais.

  "The Central Control Chamber," I breathed, recognition flooding through me though I'd never set foot here before. "This is where the entire system was monitored."

  Dureforge moved cautiously around the perimeter, examining the ancient mechanisms built into the walls. "These look actively maintained. Someone's been using this place."

  Morgana knelt to study the crystalline arrays, her fingers tracing the geometric patterns with academic precision. "The Phoenix Collective has attempted modifications. See these newer crystal alignments? They're trying to redirect flow without understanding the underlying mathematics."

  I stepped onto the central dais, drawn by an instinct I couldn't explain. The moment my feet touched it, energy surged through me—not painful but intensely present, like stepping into a swift-flowing river. The patterns beneath my skin flared to life, glowing blue through my clothing.

  "Magius!" Dureforge called in alarm.

  "It's alright," I assured her, though I wasn't entirely certain that was true. "The chamber is... recognizing me, somehow."

  Morgana's eyes widened, her calculations momentarily forgotten. "Bloodline recognition protocols. The original systems were keyed to specific families—a security measure to prevent unauthorized manipulation."

  The energy continued flowing through me, and with it came understanding—not complete, but fragmented images and knowledge passing directly from the system itself.

  I saw how the currents were supposed to flow through the crystalline conduits, how they'd been damaged by aggressive extraction, how the Central Chamber and the outlying Balance Chambers were designed to work in concert to maintain the health of the entire network.

  "The Phoenix is trying to force the currents to feed the failing convergence," I said, information flowing into my mind faster than I could fully process. "But they're going about it entirely wrong. The system was designed to heal itself if properly guided, not forcibly redirected."

  "Can you make sense of these controls?" Dureforge asked, gesturing to the mechanisms lining the walls.

  I stepped from the dais, the blue glow fading but the knowledge remaining. "Partially. They're calibration devices—meant to adjust the crystalline arrays to modify how magical energy flows between different sections of the network. But using them properly would require training I don't have."

  "The Covenant might possess that knowledge," Morgana suggested. "Magistra Vale has collected fragments of Ley Line Walker techniques for decades."

  A sound from the tunnel we'd entered through brought us all to alert. Voices echoed in the distance, accompanied by the rhythmic tread of multiple boots.

  "Security teams," Dureforge concluded grimly. "They've tracked us somehow."

  "The chamber activation," Morgana explained. "It would have created a significant energy signature—detectable to Phoenix monitoring equipment."

  "Is there another exit?" I asked, searching the circular room desperately.

  Dureforge was already examining the far wall, her metal fingers probing the ancient stonework. "Here—another maintenance shaft. Recently used, judging by the lack of dust on these rungs."

  We had no choice but to climb, ascending yet another vertical passage as the voices below grew louder. This shaft was narrower than the first, forcing us to move single-file with painfully slow progress.

  "They've reached the chamber," Morgana reported from below me, her voice barely above a whisper. "Multiple personnel. They're examining the dais you stood upon."

  "Can they track which way we went?" I asked.

  "Sixty-seven percent probability they'll detect residual energy signatures on this exit route," she replied. "We need to move faster."

  Easier said than done in a vertical shaft barely wide enough for my shoulders. I focused on the rungs ahead, ignoring the growing sounds of pursuit and the cramping in my arms.

  When we finally reached the top, we emerged into what appeared to be a maintenance room for the city's water distribution system. Massive pipes ran along the ceiling, valves and gauges monitoring pressure throughout the network.

  "We're outside the palace grounds," Dureforge announced after checking a small grated window. "Northern municipal district, near the aqueduct administration."

  "Safe?" I asked, still catching my breath.

  "Safer," she corrected. "But we should keep moving. The Phoenix has influence throughout the city."

  As we prepared to leave our temporary shelter, I glanced back at the shaft we'd climbed, thinking of the Central Control Chamber below and the knowledge it had temporarily granted me.

  Whatever my ancestors had built, it was far more sophisticated than the crude extraction methods that had replaced their work. The system was designed to be guided, not exploited—to work with the natural flow of energy rather than against it.

  The crystalline conduits weren't simply pipes for energy—they were interfaces between the physical world and the non-physical currents, allowing those with the right knowledge and bloodline to interact with forces that otherwise remained imperceptible.

  The Phoenix Collective's approach wasn't just inefficient—it was actively damaging the very resource they sought to control. And somewhere in my blood ran the ability to perceive that damage and, perhaps, to repair it.

  "We need to get this information to Magistra Vale," I said. "The Central Chamber and the three Balance Chambers could be crucial to whatever the Covenant is planning."

  Dureforge nodded, her practical nature reasserting itself. "First, we need to rendezvous with the others and establish a secure location. The Phoenix will be searching the entire city for you now."

  She was right, of course.

  What we'd discovered beneath the palace had transformed me from a curiosity to a prime target. Project Wellspring needed what I represented—a functional Ley Line Walker bloodline with active abilities.

  And they had proven they would go to any lengths to acquire such assets.

  As we slipped out into the fading daylight, blending with the crowds of city workers returning home, I couldn't shake the sensation that had come over me in the Control Chamber—the profound connection to something larger and older than myself.

  Not just currents of energy, but currents of history and obligation that had flowed through my family for generations.

  My ancestors had helped build the systems now failing. Whether I wanted it or not, their legacy—and the responsibility for what came next—had passed to me.