Acacia’s heart hammered in her chest, her pulse quickening as she shot a nervous glance at Jace. “You wanted something interesting in this place. Now’s your chance,” she said, too paralyzed to face the unknown source of the noise herself.

“So, you two can bolt and lock me in with… whatever that is? No thanks.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have come in here,” Harper whimpered.

The rumbling persisted, an unyielding assault on their ear.

“This is crazy,” Acacia muttered, berating herself. She’d just fought an acid-spewing monster, so why was a little thumping noise in an empty room making her want to crawl out of her skin?

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe steadily. “God! Okay… we turn on three,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Fine,” Jace agreed.

Harper wanted to voice her consent but managed only a shaky nod.

“One, tw—let go of my hand,” Acacia interrupted herself, jerking her hand free from Harper’s grasp. “Two, three.”

On three, Jace and Acacia spun around, jaws dropping in unison.

“Does it have fangs?” Harper whispered, too afraid to turn around.

“For God’s sake, Mary,” Jace said, grabbing her arm and turning her toward the room.

When Harper opened her eyes, she quickly drew another cross over herself. “Why couldn’t it have been fangs,” she muttered, staring at the large, clattering chest nestled against the bay windows. Between her whimpers, Harper swore she heard a low hum emanating from inside it, prompting her to cover her ears to block out the faint noise.

Jace rubbed his eyes, questioning their reliability. Sure enough, the chest was still there, jangling. He’d checked every dresser and drawer in the room before deciding to leave and didn’t remember seeing any chest. He would’ve remembered the intricate moon and star carvings etched into the wood. Jace always appreciated fine craftsmanship, especially when it came to woodwork. Some of the best locks he’d picked had been on beautifully engraved oaks. His eyes bugled as the chest began to emit a soft glow.

“Are you both seeing and hearing that too?” Jace asked, stepping back. “Cause, truth be told, I might’ve taken a questionable something from one of the bathrooms up here.”

Acacia’s fear melted into unbridled exhilaration. “Awesome,” she breathed, inching closer to the mysterious box.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Crouching beside it, Acacia placed her hand on the lid, eyes fluttering shut as she sensed something she’d only recently felt in her life—power. Only the power radiating from the chest felt a thousand times more intense than she’d experienced the other night. Even stranger than her sensing the power within the box was that she was convinced it was beckoning her, urging her to discover what lay within.

A frown creased her brow as her fingers brushed a lock at the chest’s center. But her excitement returned because, unlike the house’s other locks, this latch simply clicked open. Promptly removing the lock, she started to lift the lid, only to have Harper yank her back by the shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“I was thinking of serenading it over a nice steak dinner. Opening it, duh,” Acacia said, jerking away from Harper. “What else would I be doing?”

“You’re crazy.”

“And you’re a spineless little church mouse,” Acacia retorted.

“Beware the serpent’s guidance down the wicked path,” Harper replied.

“I really, really, really hate to say this, but I agree with conservative Barbie,” Jace said, grimacing.

“Really?” Harper asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“On the list of things to never do, opening a glowing, rumbling chest that mysteriously appeared in a locked room is pretty high up there.”

“Shh,” Acacia hissed, turning her attention back to the chest. “Can’t you hear that?”

The hum swelled into a buzz, the chest’s light intensifying alongside it.

“It wants us to open it,” Acacia whispered, eyes wide.

“And the devil wanted Eve to bite the apple,” Harper countered.

“It’s a chest. It doesn’t want anything,” Jace said, trying to ignore the madness around him.

“What if it’s, like, Pandora’s box?” Harper pressed.

“But what if it explains what happened to our families?” Acacia shot back, her eyes alight with hope. “What if it can help us?”

Harper knelt beside Acacia, her voice low but steady. “Something horrific happened to us, and,” she gestured at the trunk, “nothing inside there is going to undo that fact.”

For a moment, Acacia seemed to take in Harper’s words. But then her jaw tightened, and she swiveled to the chest, wrenching the lid open.

Inside was bare, bar an oversized leather-bound book. Its surface was marred by webs of wrinkles—each marking an echo of a bygone era. The weathered yet resilient leather hinted at the countless stories borne by those who had held it previously. Despite its age, it emanated an aura of strength, as if centuries of hardships had built its formidability. Dominating the cover was a silver star nested within a circle, its brilliance a stark contrast to the age-beaten leather.

Acacia lifted the book gingerly, sensing its age as well as its power. The book was undeniably heavier than she thought possible, as if it held more than just parchment within its covers. She knew the secrets within its pages held the key to making sense of everything she’d been through. As her fingers traced the star and circle, they shimmered as though resonating with her touch. The star ignited, its glow growing stronger while the circle pulsed in sync with her heartbeat. The interaction was magical, a dance of light and energy, as mesmerizing as it was frightening.

“Whoa!” Acacia and Jace exclaimed together, while Harper just shook her head, nervously chewing on her thumb.

“Oh, no,” Harper whispered.

Acacia settled cross-legged with the book nestled in her lap. She turned to the first page, where exquisitely rendered words seemed to leap off the paper. The three-dimensional appearance of the text beckoned her to glide her fingers across the surface as she read aloud. “Codex of Wisdom?” she murmured, her brow furrowing in confusion as she pondered the words. Driven by her burgeoning curiosity, she gently flipped to the next page.