“Busy?” He scoffed. “With what? The kitchen sprites arguing in the kitchen? No thanks.”
He followed me in, with my dad waddling close behind like this was his idea to begin with.
The moment the door shut, I moved to the bed and sat down heavily. The box buzzed faintly in my lap, like itknewwe were somewhere private now. Somewhere sealed.
Twobble stayed back, leaning against the wardrobe. “So… what is it?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “But the book sprites led me to it.”
I unwrapped the cloth, and the violet fabric slipped away, falling into my lap like shed skin.
The box beneath was older than it looked in the library. Not wood, not stone. Something between smooth, dark, and almost iridescent. There was no latch or hinge.
Itopenedlike it had been waiting.
With just a soft click, the top folded back, and inside…
I stared.
Twobble stepped forward, slowly.
Even my dad looked curious.
Inside the box, resting on a bed of silken thread, was a small, clear orb.
The object was no bigger than a plum,and it was encased in fine silver wire that curled around it like a net holding something precious.
The orb glowed faintly from within, but it wasn’t steady.
It pulsed.
And inside that pulsing light, there was movement, with shadows and shimmer.
Not a reflection, not magic mist.
But filled with memories.
My breath caught as the orb pulsed once, twice, and an image bloomed within.
I saw a piece of the Academy, not as it was, but as ithad been. The architecture had fewer towers, and the Butterfly Ward was half-formed.
And someone arose at its center.
A woman, clad in dark robes, stood alone, her hands outstretched, channeling something beneath the earth.
Then the image flickered.
The woman fell.
And a circle of others appeared around her as images of Wards collapsing, and a storm overhead shook the ground.
And then…
Darkness.
The orb went still.
Twobble let out a low whistle. “Well. That’s a new development.”
