Edmund of the Sinclair family stared at the weird compass pointing south in complete silence.
The room suddenly felt colder.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the wooden case as he leaned closer, as though his eyes might somehow be deceiving him.
They weren't.
The compass was working.
After decades of remaining completely still, the ancient artifact had finally moved.
Edmund swallowed.
His mind immediately returned to the family records he had read as a child, stories he had once regarded as exaggerated legends created by paranoid ancestors.
He remembered references to the return of Qi.
He remembered warnings about animals sensing the change before humans.
He remembered descriptions of ancient artifacts awakening after remaining dormant for generations.
He had always assumed those passages were symbolic.
Now he was no longer certain.
Edmund abruptly turned toward the shelves.
The ancient manuscripts.
The sealed journals.
The family records.
