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Makaela averted her eyes from the stuffed griffin's head mounted on the wall ahead of her.

Griffins were the sacred animals of the House Lumai but having the head of one was a bit crude. The dead creature's glossy, black eyes stared back at her. It made her skin itch.

They were beautiful creatures, though. Regal and magnificent, with their massive wings and feline bodies. As a child, she dreamed of becoming a beast tamer just so she could hunt griffins all day. That dream was dead now—along with all the others.

Now all she dreamed about was surviving.

To her right, Xander sat on the edge of the windowsill. He stroked his long, gray beard as he stared at the darkening clouds.

"A storm is coming," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Olivier sat behind the wooden desk in the center of the study, his fingers clasped together as he stared at the two young magicians before him.

No one said anything for a few moments. Makaela shifted in her seat. The anxiety building inside her was starting to become unbearable. She chewed on the insides of her cheeks as she waited for her uncle to speak. Eventually, she broke the silence first.

"Are you going to say something or are you just going to keep staring at us?" She crossed her arms.

He finally nodded. "I've been keeping something from you."

"Yeah, no kidding."

He rubbed his temples before continuing. "Thorian, the Order...the purge wasn't random. It was a calculated effort designed to steal something from us."

Her face scrunched together. "Steal what?"

Olivier looked to Xander. "Do you mind?"

"Of course." The old man waddled over to a cabinet on the other side of the room. He retrieved a small, ornate box guarded by a heavy lock and decorated with glossy, gold paint from inside. Then he handed it to Olivier.

Makaela stared at the box. Her stomach churned as she watched her uncle perform an unlocking spell on the padlock. It clattered onto his desk, the noise echoing around the silent room.

Olivier dipped his hand inside the container. Seconds later, it resurfaced with a ring.

Makaela's entire body tensed at the sight of it.

"That was my father's."

"It was." Olivier nodded. "And our fathers before him." He gazed at the golden gemstone sitting atop the ivory band. Glowing inscriptions in the ancient language of their people were inscribed into the band. "It's called the Illumio. It belongs to the head of our house, whoever that may be at the time. Every house has one—"

"The Eldenarian Artifacts!" Remy exclaimed. He let out a giddy laugh. "I thought they were a myth."

"Oh, they're no myth, child," Xander said, his tone grave. "They've existed for millennia, since the first wielders of magic."

Makaela nodded slowly. She vaguely knew what the Eldenarian Artifacts were. They were supposedly seven pieces of the gods gifted to the original creators of magic, the founders of the seven houses. According to the stories, each one granted the user mastery over a certain facet of magic, whether it be battlemagic, shadoweaving, and even shapeshifting. She always thought the ring her father wore was just another piece of jewelry.

"Why does Thorian want it?"

"Years ago, the Eldenarian Council were notified of a prophecy," Olivier explained. "Pierre told me bits and pieces, but essentially, there are eight members of this prophecy. It speaks of a war between our people. An enemy only known as the Black Lotus is slated to collect all seven artifacts and bring about a new world order for magicians and ordinaires."

The Black Lotus | Vol.1, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓Where stories live. Discover now