313: Mysterious artifact (part 1)

Mysterious artifact (part 1)

She released him easily; for his arms had never encircled her the way they used to. Her throat ached from the noxious odors around them and the bitterness of the situation she found herself in.1

Wishing she had never asked him to rebuild their home only to find her request rejected, her father's wise counsel rang in her ears: 'Assuming that others will handle their emotions as we do is a pitfall to avoid.'

Egon – who exuded discomfort beside her – clicked his tongue.

"I'm not sure what you were searching for, but if you've lost precious jewelry or an item you wish to retrieve, I can help you find it. You don't need to be here for that."

So it wasn't about him believing in my dreams...

Her husband must have simply assumed she had lost something valuable and had risen before dawn to search for it.  It seemed both of them were making assumptions about each other.

"Thank you for your offer," she replied politely.

Instead of offering more information, she reached for her leather gloves which were tucked in the back of her riding trousers and then put them on. Her gaze purposefully scanned the altered landscape now. Although it differed from the horrible white background of her dream, a few familiar piles of debris caught her attention, prompting her to stride in their direction.

Adela distinctly heard her husband sighing behind her and muttering something unintelligible about mountain goats. But instead of becoming irritated, she found herself smiling at the familiarity of his complaint. 

She walked and walked amidst the remnants of her home, the sounds of debris crunching beneath her leather-booted heels grew louder. And the further she ventured inside, the more the scene began to resemble the one from her dream. What had caught her attention was now buried to her right, partially obscured by an entire bookshelf that appeared to have fallen over it.

This must be the location where Egon's study was located...

It was always astonishing how her husband moved so silently when he was not making any effort to conceal his true self. His actions were eerily quiet as he maneuvered through the debris, and if it was not for their stronger than ever mate bond, there was no doubt that she would have lost her bearings.

As she was on the verge of crouching down to attempt to move the large wooden pieces, his gloved hand intervened, offering her a handkerchief. 

"Place that over your nose and breathe through it," he suggested.

Biting her cheek, she refrained from voicing her response, which would have conveyed that she wasn't as fragile as he seemed to believe. Instead, she neatly folded his handkerchief and slipped it into the back pocket of her trousers, allowing him enough space to do what he wanted.

Effortlessly, Egon began to remove the larger pieces, minimizing the amount of dust and smoke produced. Once he had cleared the area, he raised an eyebrow and looked at her expectantly.

"This would be much easier if you told me exactly what you're searching for."

She couldn't muster the courage to explain that she wasn't entirely sure what she was searching for. Her gaze dropped to the pile, which now resembled the one from her dream precisely. Her eyes widened as a glimmer caught her attention in the very spot she had anticipated.

She was about to bend down to retrieve it when Egon acted faster again. Following her line of sight, he sank deeper into the mound, taking significantly less time than she had in her dream to unearth the object. What she had spotted was just its edge, but what Egon now held in his gloved hands was a very old-looking yet immaculately preserved box about the size of his palm. Its resistance to catching fire indicated it was likely crafted from the purest mana stones.

"I thought I had imagined this..." He spoke in a tone of astonishment.

"...Do you know what is inside of it?"

He gazed down at her with widened eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

"I've spent years searching for it in what Andreas had brought back to Kolhis. I saw it only once in my father's possession when I was a child and asked him if it was his, but he didn't respond."

His furrowed brow accentuated the intensity of his crimson eyes.

"I despised it. Something so valuable could have transformed our lives if sold, but a part of me believed he had stolen it. Naturally, I could never accuse him."

Her heart ached as she contemplated his childhood. It appeared that Egon and his father weren't particularly close before Atticus took his own life in Lanark's Forest. Suppressing her emotions, she extended her hand, palm up, leaving it there for Egon to place the box.

"You want me to give it to you?"

"Yes."

As he passed the box to her, her suspicions were confirmed. It wasn't her first encounter with such an artifact.

"These boxes are ancient Emorian artifacts," she began. "I've only read about them in House de Lanark's history books. They're incredibly impractical because they have a unique method of opening. The mana stone they are made of is bound in an extraordinary way..." Her thumb grazed the box's edge as she pressed it firmly, drawing a drop of blood. "...They're used exclusively for safeguarding the secrets of the royal family."

Both of them watched as the box absorbed the blood, waiting for a moment, but nothing occurred.

"...When you saw it with your father, was it opened?" 

He shook his head. "I can't recall."

"…I don't believe he stole it. I think it was passed down to him. But there's only one way to test this theory."

She handed the box back to him.

"You should try it yourself."

"…"

Taking the box from her, she anticipated that he would mimic her action of pricking his thumb, but instead, he tucked it under his arm and bent down, bringing her pricked thumb close to his nose.

"Your blood is so…" He stared deep into her eyes, searching for the right word. "Inviting."

Lowering her hand, he brought her thumb to her own lips and inserted it into her mouth then swallowed audibly.

"Don't waste it like this again."

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