The ancient parchment crackled beneath my fingers as I carefully unrolled it on my desk. Even in the dim light of my study, the celestial map practically glowed with an inner luminescence that seemed impossible for ink five centuries old. The constellations drawn by my ancestor, Evander Thorne I, remained as vibrant as the night they were first observed at the legendary Star-Gazers' Ball.
"Great-great-great-grandmother Isabella would have been amazed," I whispered to myself, tracing the delicate lines of the interstellar map with reverence.
I was supposed to be cataloging the contents of the family archives for the quincentenary celebration, but I'd become transfixed by this particular artifact. Professor Ellington's keynote address last week had stirred something in me—a connection to my ancestors that went beyond mere academic interest.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
