The air inside the Sunken Archive was eerily still, preserved by centuries of airtight granite seals. As Torin and the vanguard guards raised their iron lanterns high, warm yellow light flooded the vast, circular hall.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves carved directly into the dark granite walls held thousands of heavy, brass-bound leather folios, rolled parchment maps, and preserved vellum scrolls. At the center of the chamber stood a massive, five-sided table forged entirely of solid ironwood, its surface inlaid with intricate silver maps detailing every mountain pass, river system, and subterranean tunnel across the continent.
At the center of the table rested a heavy, silver-bound book adorned with a raised crest—a shattered moon entwined with a mountain rose.
Nora stepped toward the ironwoo
