FINDING HER

Episode 4: The Rival Order

The map Jane had decoded was incomplete. That much was obvious now. But with Alan missing, they had no choice but to use what they had. The remaining five gathered in the library after midnight, the wind outside howling like a warning.

“Alan could be anywhere,” Helena whispered, her fingers tracing the lines on the map. “If they took him, he might be underground again.”

“Or somewhere worse,” Jane said darkly.

Brad slammed a flashlight onto the table. “Let’s stop guessing. We go back down. We find the Ember Order’s second chamber—the one this map doesn’t show—and we bring him back.”

Hank stood in the doorway, reluctant but ready. “I’m not one for ancient conspiracies or underground ghost clubs, but if Alan’s in trouble, I’m in.”

They set off toward the chapel again—this time better prepared. Jane had decoded a riddle from the last pages of the Ember book, a verse that read:

“Where shadows sleep beneath the bell,

A mirrored stone will break the spell.

Turn thrice the lens and face the flame,

The silent ones will speak your name.”

It led them not to the old chamber—but to a forgotten hallway beneath the bell tower.

Behind a mirror in the tower’s base, Helena used the monocle to spot a thin slit of light across the stone. When she twisted the lens three times—just like the verse said—the mirror cracked down the center and slid aside, revealing a hidden spiral staircase leading down.

The air changed instantly. It grew colder. Older.

At the bottom was another circular room—but this one wasn’t like the others. The eye symbol was shattered in the stone, broken deliberately. The walls were scorched.

And in the center, chained to a stone pillar, sat a figure with a hood.

Not Alan.

But someone much older.

He looked up slowly as they entered—eyes sunken, beard streaked with gray. Chains rattled around his wrists, and behind him, scorched runes glowed faintly in the stone.

“Who are you?” Jane asked.

“I’m the last of the Ashen Circle,” he replied. “And I was once like you.”

The group exchanged glances.

“You’re not with the Ember Order?” Helena asked.

He smiled, bitter. “No. We were their opposites. While they guarded knowledge, we believed in releasing it. They called us dangerous. Said we would unravel the balance.”

Dorothy stepped forward cautiously. “Do you know where our friend is?”

“Alan?” The man nodded slowly. “He’s alive. And he’s passed the second trial.”

“Then why hasn’t he come back?” Brad asked.

“Because the trial never ends,” the man said, pulling against his chains. “Once you pass it, the Order offers you a choice. Return with truth—or remain to protect it. And if he chose the latter... he’s already below the threshold.”

“What threshold?” Jane asked.

The man looked toward a sealed stone archway behind him. Symbols surrounded it—ones none of them recognized.

“That door,” he said, “leads to the Ember Core. The place where the Order’s secrets began. The place even they fear.”

Helena touched the door. It was warm.

“You can still bring him back,” the man said. “But if you go in… something will have to stay behind.”

He looked up slowly as they entered—eyes sunken, beard streaked with gray. Chains rattled around his wrists, and behind him, scorched runes glowed faintly in the stone.

“Who are you?” Jane asked.

“I’m the last of the Ashen Circle,” he replied. “And I was once like you.”

The group exchanged glances.

“You’re not with the Ember Order?” Helena asked.

He smiled, bitter. “No. We were their opposites. While they guarded knowledge, we believed in releasing it. They called us dangerous. Said we would unravel the balance.”

Dorothy stepped forward cautiously. “Do you know where our friend is?”

“Alan?” The man nodded slowly. “He’s alive. And he’s passed the second trial.”

“Then why hasn’t he come back?” Brad asked.

“Because the trial never ends,” the man said, pulling against his chains. “Once you pass it, the Order offers you a choice. Return with truth—or remain to protect it. And if he chose the latter... he’s already below the threshold.”

“What threshold?” Jane asked.

The man looked toward a sealed stone archway behind him. Symbols surrounded it—ones none of them recognized.

“That door,” he said, “leads to the Ember Core. The place where the Order’s secrets began. The place even they fear.”

Helena touched the door. It was warm.

“You can still bring him back,” the man said. “But if you go in… something will have to stay behind.”

Alan stood at the center of the chamber, surrounded by swirling symbols in the air—golden glyphs that hovered like ash suspended in light. His hands were raised, palms glowing faintly. His face was calm. Too calm.

“Alan?” Brad stepped forward. “What the hell is going on?”

Alan slowly turned. The warmth in his expression had been replaced with something distant. Measured. “You shouldn’t have come.”

Dorothy moved toward him. “We thought you were—”

“I was gone,” Alan said. “I passed through the second trial. But it didn’t end there. The Core called to me. It showed me the truth. About this place. About us.”

Behind him, the giant column of light pulsed—and began to take shape.

It wasn’t a machine. Not quite. It looked like a tree of golden roots, but mechanical veins ran along its base, humming with an old intelligence.

Helena gasped. “Is that… alive?”

“It’s not life,” said the chained man—the last of the Ashen Circle—who stood frozen at the threshold. “It’s memory. The Core stores not just knowledge—but every mind that’s ever touched it. Every thought the Order feared.”

Brad clenched his fists. “Alan, we came to bring you back.”

Alan looked at him, really looked—and something flickered behind his eyes. “You can’t bring back someone who isn’t the same anymore.”

He raised his hand—and the glyphs flew outward in a rush of light, slamming into the group like a silent scream.

The force split them apart.

Brad and Dorothy were thrown into a side corridor. Helena collapsed near the root-structure of the Core. Jane dropped to her knees, eyes wide with flickering visions of her past.

Only the old man stayed standing.

He faced Alan, voice steady. “You’re being used. The Core twists everything. It’s not truth—it’s obsession. It doesn’t want guardians. It wants prisoners.”

“I understand more than you ever did,” Alan replied. “I saw the Founders. I saw what they buried.”

Helena groaned, crawling toward the monocle, which had been knocked from her pocket. She raised it to her eye and gasped.

Through it, Alan wasn’t just Alan. He was surrounded by strands—thread-like symbols attached to his spine, his head, his heart. The Core was pulling on him. Feeding through him.

She shouted, “It’s controlling him!”

Jane snapped out of her trance. “We need to break the link.”

Brad stumbled forward. “How?”

The old man pointed to the base of the root-structure. “There’s a glyph. A seal. Break it, and the Core’s tether to him will snap.”

But Alan heard them. He raised his hand, and fire roared to life around the base of the Core.

“No one leaves until the third trial is complete,” he said. “And this time, there’s no map. No clues. Only choice.”

The third trial had begun.

Dorothy looked at Brad. “We end this. Together.”

The room grew hot. Glyphs swirled faster. The Core trembled like it was alive.

Jane ran toward the fire, flipping through the Ember book. “There’s a counter-sigil! If I can say it before the Core consumes him—”

Helena shouted, “Now, Brad! Hit the seal!”

Brad dodged fire and light and reached the base—spotting a glowing rune beneath the writhing roots. He drove the crowbar straight into it.

The ground shook.

The Core screamed.

Alan staggered, clutching his head. The glyphs spun into chaos. Jane screamed a line of ancient Latin from the book—and the fire blinked out in an instant.

Alan collapsed.

The room fell into silence.

Only the deep hum of the Core remained.

Brad rushed to his side. “Alan. You with us?”

Alan blinked up at him. His eyes were clear again.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The old man looked at the group, weary. “You did something none of us could. You broke the cycle.”

Dorothy asked, “What now?”

The man looked up at the Core, which had grown dim. “Now? You decide what to do with it. Destroy it. Seal it. Or use it. But whatever you choose, know this—Lincoln College will never be the same again.”