Lucan walked through the kingdom as usual, following the same route he always took, as if he had no plan at all. He didn’t rush, didn’t look for empty streets, letting the exhaustion of the previous days slowly drain from his body.

  The feeling came afterward.

  A steady presence, appearing and fading in time with his steps.

  Lucan kept his gaze forward, but sharpened his senses. He softened the sound of his footsteps, shifted direction without making it obvious, and stopped just long enough to pretend to look at a shop display before moving on.

  The presence did the same.

  It didn’t get too close.

  It didn’t fall too far behind.

  That was what caught his attention.

  When he turned into one of the side corridors, he slipped behind a stone column and waited.

  He saw her.

  Selene moved carefully, glancing around more than someone casually walking through the kingdom ever would. Her posture was tense.

  Lucan didn’t understand.

  Why her?

  He didn’t step out. He didn’t say a word. He watched as Selene stopped, scanning the empty path ahead of her.

  When she didn’t see him, she turned back the way she had come.

  Lucan waited a little longer before following her.

  Not out of anger.

  Out of curiosity.

  He kept his distance, careful not to be noticed. Selene wasn’t heading toward the wall. She showed no interest in that place at all. Instead, she walked straight home.

  Lucan stopped across the street, half-hidden by shadow and stone, just in time to hear the conversation through the half-open door.

  “He didn’t do anything strange today,” Selene said. “He was more normal than usual. Just walking around the town, like anyone else. He didn’t train or activate anything.”

  There was a pause. A lower voice replied, too softly for Lucan to make out the words.

  “Yeah,” Selene added. “I didn’t feel instability. If anything, he seemed distracted. Thoughtful.”

  That was all.

  No accusations.

  No alarm.

  No fear in her voice.

  And yet, something broke.

  Lucan stepped back slowly, retreating without a sound, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he couldn’t name right away. It wasn’t just anger. It was sadness, disappointment.

  Why am I being followed?

  Why do they watch me like I’m something that could fail at any moment?

  A darker thought followed on its own.

  What if they’re right?

  He stopped, resting his back against the cold stone of the corridor. The idea sank deeper than he wanted to admit.

  Maybe he couldn’t trust anyone.

  Maybe he never could.

  When he started walking again, there was more force in his steps, a different kind of resolve. This was no longer a walk. No longer curiosity.

  He was angry.

  And with that contained anger, with that sadness that had nowhere to go, he changed direction.

  This time, he went straight to the wall.

  The Seal reacted.

  It didn’t burn.

  It didn’t hurt.

  It didn’t spiral out of control.

  It was a brief, contained pulse, like a heartbeat that wasn’t his.

  Lucan stopped.

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  He looked at the wall more closely. Between the eroded cracks, almost invisible, there was a mark. Ancient. So worn down that anyone else would have passed by without noticing it. For a moment, he thought he had imagined it.

  The mark flickered.

  A dim, brief flash. Like an answer.

  Something inside him aligned. Not power. Not strength. Decision.

  He stopped wondering what others expected of him.

  Stopped thinking about Selene, about Alaric, about Eldric.

  Stopped doubting.

  He just wanted to know.

  The Seal responded to that.

  Veyra moved beneath his skin differently than before—steadier, clearer. Not violent. Firm. The wall vibrated faintly, as if recognizing something familiar, and the markings lit up in a slow pattern, almost respectful.

  The stone gave way.

  It didn’t open with noise or spectacle. It simply stopped being solid.

  Lucan stepped forward and crossed through.

  The interior wasn’t a refuge or a place meant for living. There were no beds, no stockpiled weapons, no signs of habitation. It was functional. Cold. Designed for observation and movement, not permanence.

  The walls were covered with maps of the kingdom—some ancient, others more recent. Routes marked with uneven lines. Dates crossed out and rewritten. Hours noted without context. Certain areas highlighted again and again: the fortress, nearby villages, strategic points.

  Lucan moved slowly, taking it all in.

  He didn’t fully understand the purpose, but one idea settled with unsettling clarity.

  This wasn’t used to live here.

  It was used to enter and leave.

  A faint shiver ran through him.

  He didn’t know who had made this.

  He didn’t know when.

  Or exactly why.

  But for the first time, the mystery didn’t reject him.

  It felt… connected.

  And somehow, that scared him more than any answer could have.

  The passage grew narrower the deeper he went.

  It wasn’t an open chamber or a ceremonial hall. It was an irregular corridor unfolding in levels, its dark stone walls reinforced by ancient structures. Marks were carved at different heights—some barely visible, others retraced again and again. They weren’t decorative. They were functional.

  Lucan advanced carefully.

  More incomplete maps were etched directly into the stone. Routes traced with thin lines. Dates. Hours. Symbols that seemed to mark temporal windows rather than physical places. Some areas were scratched out. Others circled obsessively.

  He didn’t grasp the exact meaning, but one thing was certain.

  This wasn’t improvised.

  Someone had studied Valthera for a long time.

  The Seal on his back remained active—not burning, but vibrating with a steady, unsettling rhythm. As if this place felt… right. Familiar without being remembered.

  Lucan froze when he heard voices.

  They weren’t coming from the interior of the kingdom. They came from the opposite end, from a different access point. Footsteps. More than one. Confident. Controlled.

  He moved on instinct, retreating behind a fractured stone structure, holding his breath.

  “The resonance returned,” a male voice said. “I felt it clearly this time.”

  “That shouldn’t have happened yet,” another replied. “The passage wasn’t supposed to activate.”

  Lucan frowned.

  “Someone opened it,” the first continued. “Not using the usual method.”

  A brief silence followed, heavy with unease.

  “From the inside?” someone asked cautiously.

  “I don’t know. But the energy doesn’t lie.”

  A chill ran down Lucan’s spine.

  They weren’t talking about him.

  But they were talking about what he had done.

  “Whoever it was, they shouldn’t have touched this yet,” the second voice said. “If Alaric finds out—”

  “He won’t,” the first replied calmly. “Not yet.”

  Lucan didn’t wait.

  They knew the place. They knew how to move in and out without being detected. They knew more than he did. Staying would only increase the risk of making a mistake he couldn’t undo.

  He withdrew in silence, sealing the passage the same way he had opened it, letting the wall solidify without a sound, as if it had never yielded at all.

  When he stepped back into the kingdom, his pulse was still racing.

  Far from there, the missions reached a standstill.

  In Eldenwood, Mara watched the forest with frustration she no longer bothered to hide. No new bodies. No fresh tracks. Only echoes. Sensations. As if something had been there… and had withdrawn on purpose.

  “It’s like chasing a shadow,” Elias muttered. “We know it exists, but it leaves nothing behind.”

  “That’s what worries me,” Mara replied. “This isn’t chaos. It’s control.”

  In the Kaelor Mountains, Garrick reached the same conclusion.

  The runes were still there, but inert. The residual energy was fading, as if its purpose had already been fulfilled.

  “Whatever it was,” Torren said, “it’s not here anymore.”

  “Or it never meant to stay,” Lysa added.

  The order was clear on both fronts.

  Return. Regroup. Report.

  There was no victory.

  But no defeat either.

  Only the certainty that something was moving… with far too much intelligence.

  That same night, Elira went to see Alaric.

  It wasn’t a formal audience. No guards. No protocol. Just two people who had known each other for far too long.

  “Selene saw something,” Elira said plainly. “An unstable energy. A seal reacting without clear control.”

  Alaric didn’t answer right away.

  “It wasn’t normal training.”

  Alaric walked to the table, placed his hands on the surface, and lowered his head slightly.

  “There are forces that shouldn’t be touched without balance,” he finally said. “And even less without guidance.”

  Elira studied him.

  “You speak like someone who’s seen this before.”

  Alaric didn’t look at her.

  He didn’t deny it.

  He didn’t confirm it.

  That silence was enough.

  Elira felt something grow cold inside her.

  If he stays silent, she thought, it’s because he knows.

  And if he knows and won’t speak… then the danger is real.

  She didn’t press further.

  She chose to keep what she knew to herself.

  And without saying it out loud, something broke.

  Lucan returned to his room late.

  The kingdom slept, unaware of everything. The hallway was empty. No one waited for him. No one questioned him.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, unmoving, staring at the floor.

  He had seen too much… and understood too little.

  The Seal.

  The wall.

  The voices.

  Selene.

  Eldric had no answers.

  Alaric had them… and withheld them.

  And Lucan stood between all of it.

  Alone.

  He didn’t feel anger.

  He didn’t feel fear.

  Only a dense, silent emptiness that settled into his chest without asking permission.

  He had no one to turn to.

  And as he lay back, letting exhaustion take over without truly sleeping, the Seal remained awake.

  Waiting.

  End of Chapter 12