Hello Readers,
I wanted to give a quick update on this week's chapter.
I've been feeling under the weather lately, and unfortunately, every time I tried to write, I'd get hit with a lingering head pain that made it really hard to make progress.
The full chapter for The Covenant of Timeless Mysteries is already drafted (which is often the easier part for me, since it's mostly about putting the story into place chronologically). But the revisions where I refine the structure, deepen the scenes, and carefully shape the flow and word choice take a lot more thought and focus, and I just wasn't able to finish them this week.
I'm so sorry for the delay. I'm hoping to use tomorrow to get it done, but if it ends up needing a little more time, the chapter will likely go up next week instead.
If that's the case, I may need to postpone The Latent Identities of Darwin as well, but if that happens, I'll be releasing some exclusive bonus content for TCOTM to make up for it.
I'll also be reaching out to the highest-ranked reader, 51kleinjas, to see if they'd like to choose which characters appear in the exclusive and help choose some of its features, if they're interested.
The good news is that I started feeling a bit better today, so I'll be uploading a teaser from the next chapter that I've already revised.
Thank you all for your patience,
Sincerely, Hjkoiro.
. . .
Chapter 42
"The Heelia Stone Born of Grain and Blood"
-Part I-
The summit of the mural exuded cold, almost sentient chill.
Fleur had advanced first and pressed her heels precisely against the edge of the highest stone tile.
Her gaze locked onto the final intact star etched at the mural's terminus.
It was a delicate carving that crowned the mural's spine like a cosmic suture.
Beside her, Abel smoothed his coat sleeves.
"I shouldn't jab my pendulum on it, I might accidentally damage it," he said slowly.
Fleur afforded him no glance. "No shit, Archimedes."
He paused, feigning offense. "What's your problem?"
She shrugged, indifferent. "This is me."
He hummed, thoroughly unamused, and exhaled with resignation. "Mhm… I keep hoping this is a phase."
She didn't speak another word, silent as her hand drifted over her shoulder.
In that same motion, an arrow with a steel shaft materialized.
The tip was crowned with a single purple bloom.
Following the same practiced motion, she pulled the bowstring from beneath her hair into an elegant arch.
Abel swallowed as Fleur's gaze sharpened.
She raised the bow, leveled the arrow toward the star's center, drew the string in a single steady inhalation, and released.
The silver tip embedded itself deep in the heart of the stone star.
Suddenly, the flower at the end of the arrow flared with incandescent light.
Then, four violet filaments snapped outward like arcane clockwork, anchoring into the star's four points.
The grooves in the mural brightened at first, then gradually faded, leaving the design as still as before.
However, moments later, the stone's surface trembled.
Tiny cracks snaked outward from the impact zone, fracturing in patterns.
A hiss of shifting pressure filled the chamber, and Abel's ears popped in response.
Then, from the arrow's point, the mural began to peel back: concentric silver spirals shed like skin, inscribing dozens of new incoherent symbols upon the old.
Neither Fleur nor Abel could discern their meaning.
A soft golden glow reawakened along the etchings, coiling through the unspooling paths.
Though most markings remained indecipherable, there was one in particular that reminded Fleur of a withered eye, sculpted in sorrow.
Fleur pointed to it at once, and confusion flickered over Abel's face.
Then, with a resounding crack, the star split along its longest axis.
From the fissure, a pale stream of gold dust trickled sideways and wound through the grooves before vanishing into the mural's depths.
Abel grasped Fleur's sleeve and noted with strain, "Something's being drawn through..."
Fleur didn't respond. Her gaze remained riveted to the stone.
Without warning, the floor tilted, like a massive slab hinging slowly downward.
The space was filled with the rumble of stone breaking.
Fleur stepped back reflexively, but her footing stayed the same.
She remarked with a steady yet astonished voice, "We're being rotated—"
Abel's jaw clenched as he turned toward the walls.
He grasped Fleur's point in an instant, right as the face before them tilted sideways.
The long, carved "spine" of the mural slid against a rail that had been hidden deep in the stone.
"That—" Abel swallowed as the wall pivoted downward. "Was a track all along!?"
The twins remained anchored to the ground as a wall swung forward and descended like a colossal gate.
Before anything could settle, the roots at the base of the carved tree began to stir.
The stone mural flexed along hidden seams, and the shallow etchings rose sequentially.
Then, thin strips of stone peeled away, lengthening and thickening into tubular limbs.
Each root preserved its twisted, organic silhouette, yet now bulged with new substance that resembled rope columns of stone, stretching outward into real space.
They coiled around one another in pairs, then in trios, and braided themselves into arching forms.
A bone-grating sound emerged, that sounded like joints grinding painfully tight.
The arches bent downward, meeting more roots that had surfaced on the opposite wall, until they linked to form a low tunnel.
As the final strands were released, the shape had coalesced into a narrow corridor framed entirely by what had been flat mural roots.
When the movement ceased, the mural had transformed into a slanted passageway leading into darkness.
The glowing lines along its spiraling track locked into place with a soft click.
A different wall had become a doorway, just large enough for a person.
The twins exchanged a speechless glance before shaking their heads, as though to banish the daze.
Abel was the first to abruptly remark, "Proper etiquette is for ladies to go first."
Fleur sighed and murmured under her breath, yet inevitably she stepped forward and took the lead.
Abel followed after a few measured strides, falling into step behind her.
The siblings paused inside, simultaneously drifting their attention upward and downward to scan the space they had entered.
The "walls" around them were far from smooth, it was inaccurate even to call them walls.
These were veins of stone, carved over centuries by water flowing through hidden channels.
Still, the place did not feel like a cave or a tunnel.
In Fleur's mind, it resembled the remnants of an ancient drift… an old, collapsed habitat that lived on.
Its narrow width allowed only a straight path forward.
To be continued in the full chapter...