Page 75 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“Mentally hugging you. Or hugging a wall of mist at the moment.”

His quiet laugh reverberates through me.

After a few quiet minutes, I turn, resting my cheek on his chest and open the letter.

Your Highness,

I beg your forgiveness for the unconventional means of this delivery. I thank you for the book that was surrendered to me for study. It’s safely hidden away and will be returned once I’m through. With recent events, the more I study what I’ve uncovered, the more certain I become that it must not travel through common channels. Too much is now stirring.

Deep within the restricted vaults beneath the palace archives, to which your father has granted access, I uncovered a sealed fragment of the Librum Caelestis—a Codex thought lost to fire over three millennia ago by my ancestors. I’ve heard whispers of it here and there. Mostly as a young boy, but I digress. The script is faded and incomplete, yet what remains is unlike anything I have read.

I believe it speaks of that which you now seek to understand more than anything, and that which will provide in the coming days. I send the translated fragment here, faithfully rendered as the language will allow.

— E.K.

Fragment from the Hymn of the First Light

(Recovered from the Temple of Elthandor, translation by Historian Elison Kolbek)

“In the beginning, before roots claimed the soil, the Primordials sang the First Song of creation—and from their song was born the light.

It scattered across the void, threading fire through the heavens, weaving power into the marrow of creation. These were the stars—not lights to banish darkness, but living embers of the universe’s power.

Yet light is not meant to dwell forever alone in the sky. When the Balance of creation falters, and the shadow swells beyond its border, the stars will choose a vessel. Into mortal flesh will their luminance descend, and through that vessel, the memory of creation’s power will awaken once more.

Such a soul is called Lumisthariel, bearer of the first light’s song. Their power is not conjured, nor learned. It is the heartbeat of the stars made flesh, the echo of the beginning carried forward into the now.

This soul does not rise to conquer. They rise to illuminate. When all else is consumed by shadow, they will burn brightest—a reminder that even in the end, light was the first word ever spoken.”

Annotations by E.K.:

The oldest of the temple records place these verses far before the age of councils—before the Veil itself. A single note says the light will arrive when the worlds stand at the edge of the precipice, when darkness believes it has already won.

It is said that when Lumisthariel walks among us, even the fabric of magic will shift and the Veil itself will answer to their light. You, Princess, I believe after much deliberation and thought, are Lumisthariel. You carry the light of creation within you. If I am wrong, then I fear what it means for us all.

My chest tightens—not with pride, but with dread.

Lumisthariel.

A title doesn’t teach me control. It doesn’t tell me how to stop the fire when it answers fear instead of command. Or how to reach Auralan when I don’t even know where to begin. If I fail, it isn’t me who burns. It’s all of us.

Ryker’s hand tightens over mine, like he feels the spiral before I can stop it. “We’ll figure it out.”

Not you.

We.

With the weight of Elison’s words still swirling in my mind, Ryker and I find Professor Ainslyn on the training grounds. He smiles at our approach, standing as we near. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Here for another round, Princess?”

I blush as Ryker turns to study me.

“I’ve been…practicing,” I tell him. “Or…more like struggling,” I groan, burying my face in my hands.

The professor shakes his head lightly. “She’s doing just fine. Her problem isn’t power. It’s fear.”

Easy to say when the fate of the system isn’t humming under your skin, waiting for you to lose focus.

Ryker lets out a low laugh, wrapping an arm around me. “Sounds about right. To be fair, though, if I could melt everything and everyone on this island, I’d be terrified, too.”