The door groaned as if it were alive. As if it knew we were there to profane it.
A faint blue glow leaked through the crack as I pushed with both hands, and the air that escaped was cold, ancient… dense with contained magic. The others stayed behind. I was the first to cross the threshold.
The room wasn’t large, but it felt infinite—darkness curled into the corners like smoke that refused to lift. In the center, atop a dark marble pedestal carved with glowing runes, floated an object.
The phylactery.
It was a crystal sphere, about the size of a human skull, suspended thirty centimeters above the pedestal, slowly spinning on its axis. Inside, a silver storm swirled, like liquid smoke trapped in a dream.
But what stopped my heart was the silent howl that burst inside my chest.
Skadi.
