She descended with three others—Aldric, Nathan, and a Shadow Court sentinel named Moriah who looked half-made of shadow herself. They carried silverlight lanterns and wore moonstone wards stitched into their coats.
The hole was deeper than any mortal excavation. It twisted like a spiral, lined with living stone that hummed underfoot.
"How far down are we?" Nathan asked, voice hushed.
"Too far," Elara muttered.
At the bottom, the tunnel opened into a vast underground chamber. Runes carved into the walls glowed faintly, but only in Elara's presence. At the center stood a monolith—twice her height, inscribed with the sigils of the First Circle.
Her glyph flared in response.
"Touch it," Aldric said.
Elara hesitated, then placed her palm flat against the stone.
It opened like a breath.
The wall melted away to reveal a sleeping form—humanoid, colossal, skin like obsidian glass, eyes closed but leaking crimson light.
Nathan backed away. "What the hell is that?"
"A Herald," Aldric said softly. "One of the originals. Bound before time had language."
Elara didn't move. "It knows I'm here."
"Yes," Aldric said. "Because you're its jailor."
And behind her, something in the runes began to blink.