Page 150 of House Ignis

I turned, the firelight from my hands dancing across her glasses. "Wait—this was hers?"

Jules nodded, her boots making a soft, rhythmic scuff on the stone. "Not many people know this, but the Academy? It was built over the foundations of her primary war fortress. “This whole place is sitting on sacred, blood-soaked ground.”

My jaw dropped. "You're telling me I've been sleeping on top of a royal stronghold this entire time?!"

“Basically,” she said casually as we rounded another turn of the staircase.

We reached the bottom, facing a massive, blackened metal door reinforced with age-worn runes and bolts the size of my forearm.

"Now what?" I asked, eyeing the threshold suspiciously.

"If this requires more blood, Asher is going to sense the spike and show up pissed as hell. I can't explain away two 'accidents' in twenty minutes."

Jules giggled, her nerves finally giving way to scholar-fueled excitement. “Relax. No bloodshed this time. It's a dual-lock mechanism.”

She pointed to a heavy, rusted lever on the side. “We have to pull it together to trip the internal counterweights.”

"Of course it is," I sighed, wiping my sweaty palms on my robe. "Gods, this thing looks like it weighs more than Aether's ego."

We both gripped the cold iron.

"One… two… three!"

We pulled with everything we had. The entire catacomb rumbled as the ancient lock groaned, grinding like the world itself was shifting on its axis.

Dust rained down from the ceiling, and somewhere behind the masonry, a heavy mechanism clicked into place.

The door creaked open, revealing a yawn of utter blackness.

The moment the seal was broken, more fae-lights flickered to life—cold and sapphire-blue. They illuminated a narrow stone corridor lined with alcoves.

And skulls.

Dozens of them, some stacked neatly, others half-cracked and forgotten in the dirt.

"Gods," I muttered, hugging my arms tightly to my chest. "Maybe we should just... not?"

Jules didn't even flinch. She was already stepping over the threshold. "We need to find a match for those symbols in the journal, Ava. If that language exists anywhere in the realm, it'll be in these archives."

For a human, she was gods-damned brave. I swear, if she were a wielder, she'd outsmart half the third-years in the Trials without breaking a sweat. I followed her, already regretting my life choices.

Aether had stayed above, claiming he needed to "keep watch" near the phoenix bench.

"You're a celestial panther," I'd hissed at him before descending. "You're literally made of starlight and power. You shouldn't be afraid of a few dusty basements."

He hadn't even dignified me with a response. He'd just flicked his tail, yawned, and curled up on the stone like the dramatic, glowing coward he was. Apparently, his whole “I protect you” thing had a clause excluding haunted basement bullshit.

So here I was.

I walked through a corridor that smelled like rot and ancient magic, passing arched crypts carved into the stone, silent and heavy with the weight of the dead.

The tombs on either side bore no names, only worn symbols etched into the masonry in languages that felt like they predated the gods.

“I wonder who these belonged to,” I whispered, my voice bouncing off the cold walls and making me pull my hood tighter.

Jules ducked under a low, crumbling arch. "Probably ancient scholars. Maybe royal lineages from before the Second War. This ground was sacred, remember? Alayna didn't build her fortress here by accident."

I nodded, stepping carefully over a fragment of a broken skull that looked far too human for my liking. "Well, if they were so royal, they should've built better doorways."