Page 47 of Bound By Blood
Beneath the watching eagle.I kneel before the carving, running my hands along its base until I find what I'm searching for. A hidden catch, disguised as part of the mountain's stone.
"Stand back."
The mechanism activates with surprising smoothness, revealing a cavity behind the eagle's talons. Inside, wrapped in oiled leather and ceremonial cloth, waits our prize.
The Crown of the First Chief.
Not a crown at all, but a totem carved from moon-touched stone that seems to glow with inner light. The artifact fits comfortably in my hands, warm to the touch despite the chamber's cold air. Intricate engravings cover its surface, depicting scenes of battle and negotiation, conquest and reconciliation.
Peace and blood, bound together in eternal balance.
"Gods preserve us," Drokhan whispers, his warm eyes reflecting the totem's soft radiance. "It's real."
More than real. It's alive.The carved stone pulses gently in my hands like a sleeping heart, responding to our presence with ancient recognition.
I wrap the totem carefully in my healer's cloth, tucking it safely into my pack. But as we turn to leave, the chamber's acoustics change. Our footsteps echo differently, as if the space itself has shifted in response to the artifact's removal.
We've awakened something.
The trap glyphs flare brighter as we pass, their phosphorescent warnings pulsing in rhythm with our heartbeats. Drokhan draws his knife, though steel won't help against magical protections woven into stone itself.
"Move faster," I urge, recognizing the signs of activation in the carved symbols. "The chamber knows what we've taken."
Ancient magic designed to protect sacred relics from theft.But are we thieves, or are we fulfilling the totem's purpose by bringing it back to the living world?
The tunnel ahead splits into three passages, none of which I remember from our descent.The paths are changing.Stonewalls shift subtly in the lamplight, creating alternative routes while closing others behind us.
"This way." I choose the leftmost tunnel based on air currents and intuition, praying that Mother's hidden knowledge extends to escape routes and treasure locations.
We run through shifting corridors while carved warnings flare and fade around us, their ancient protections slowly awakening after decades of dormancy. My pack bounces against my back, the totem's weight both burden and promise.
Behind us, grinding stone echoes through the tunnels.
"Faster." Drokhan's breathing grows labored as we climb toward the surface, his massive frame working hard in the thin mountain air.
The grinding sound grows closer, accompanied by the whisper of settling rock.The burial chambers are sealing themselves,protecting their remaining treasures by cutting off access to the deep passages.
We reach the hidden entrance just as the first stones shift behind us. I squeeze through the narrow opening, feeling the mountain's weight pressing down, then help pull Drokhan through as the passage grinds closed with finality.
Safe.For now.
We collapse against the tunnel wall, breathing hard and listening to the diminishing echoes of ancient mechanisms returning to sleep. The normal healing grotto air tastes sweet after the chamber's dense atmosphere.
"The totem," Drokhan gasps, his eyes fixed on my pack. "Still intact?"
I check carefully, unwrapping the moon-touched stone to examine its surface for damage. The carvings remain clear and sharp, the inner glow steady as ever.Unharmed by our escape.
"Perfect condition." I rewrap the artifact with careful reverence. "Now comes the harder question. What do we do with it?"
Such power demands wisdom in its application.The totem could unite the highland clans under Drokhan's leadership, ending generations of internecine warfare. But unity achieved through magical coercion might prove as dangerous as continued division.
"We sleep on it," he decides after long consideration. "Hidden safely, while we plan how best to reveal its recovery to the clan elders."
Tomorrow's council meeting will be very different from today's.
We make our way back through familiar corridors, moving with careful stealth despite our exhaustion. The fortress sleeps around us, warriors and families resting peacefully while we carry knowledge that could reshape their entire world.
At my tent entrance, Drokhan pauses with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "Thank you. For trusting me with your mother's secret, for sharing this burden."
