The Last Moonbane
The first of the three keys.
But the library was vast, and the sun was falling fast.
“Here,” Elias said suddenly. His lantern revealed a desk half-buried under rubble. On it sat a cluster of books spared from collapse. My pulse quickened.
I rushed forward, brushing dust aside. Most were ledgers—trade records, shipment logs, accounts of star-iron mining. But one book was different. Smaller, bound in faded blue leather, edges worn soft by use. A delicate clasp, broken long ago, hung loose across the cover.
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