Chapter 83 : Locket and Letters
Elias had never been particularly nosy.
He valued personal space. He respected privacy. He didn't read over people's shoulders or rummage through drawers or ask invasive questions.
Which was why it was so thoroughly unfair that the locket practically fell into his lap while he was trying to clean Revantra's half of their shared desk. One minute he was scooping parchment and discarded quills into some semblance of order, and the next—clink.
The locket bounced off the open drawer, rolled once, and came to a rest right at the edge of his palm. Innocuous. Silver. Unlocked.
It clicked open without protest.
"I didn't mean to look," Elias muttered to no one in particular, which was a classic sign of guilt.
Inside the oval locket, where he expected maybe a sketch or keepsake, was something far stranger—a sliver of folded parchment. It was impossibly small, tucked with near magical precision, and sealed with wax that shimmered faintly in the dim lamplight.
Curiosity wasn't a sin. But it definitely felt like one now.
Still... he unfolded it.
The handwriting was precise, looping, and old. Not antique. Ancient. Revantra's past life stared back at him in ink:
To the next vessel of my fire, should the day come when memory fades—