The Secret Beneath the Long Night

The staircase seemed to have no end.Elara counted thirty-seven steps before Rowan whispered, “Stop.”
She froze.“What?”He pointed ahead.There was a door.It stood alone in the middle of the passage, 
made of black stone and covered in hundreds of tiny silver marks. None of them looked like letters. They seemed more like scratches made by something with very long claws.
The compass in Elara’s hand began to tremble.Then the door whispered.“Elara Vale.”Her blood ran cold.
Rowan grabbed her arm.“How does it know your name?”Elara didn’t answer.The voice came again.“Rowan Ash.”This time Rowan stepped backward.“No.”
The compass suddenly went dark.For a moment, neither of them moved.Then they heard something behind the door.Three knocks.
Slow.Deliberate.Knock.Knock.Knock.Elara raised her hand toward the stone.“Don’t,” Rowan whispered.
But the moment her fingers touched the door, every silver mark began glowing.A vision flashed before her eyes.She saw Avelon.Not as it was now, but three hundred years ago.The kingdom was bright.
The sky was blue.People were standing in the streets beneath an enormous golden sun.Then the vision changed.A tower appeared in the mountains.
At its top stood a man wearing a crown made of white metal.The Moon King.But he wasn’t holding the sun.He was protecting it.
Elara gasped.The vision shifted again.Seven people surrounded the tower.Six wore silver masks.The seventh was a woman.Elara recognized her immediately.
Her mother.“No…”The vision disappeared.Elara stumbled backward.Rowan caught her.“What did you see?”“My mother.”Rowan’s face changed.
Your mother is alive?”Elara shook her head.“She died when I was little.”Before Rowan could respond, the black door opened by itself.
Beyond it was a circular chamber.In the centre stood a glass coffin.Inside lay a young man.His clothes were torn, his skin unnaturally pale.But Elara knew him.She had seen his face in hundreds of old paintings.
The last King of Avelon.The father of the Moon King.The man who had supposedly died three hundred years ago.Rowan whispered, “That’s impossible.”
The man’s eyes opened.Elara couldn’t breathe.He looked directly at her.Then he smiled.“Finally,” he said.His voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“The children of the seven have returned.”The chamber shook.A crack appeared across the glass coffin.Then another.Elara stepped backward.
“What does that mean?”The king slowly raised one hand.On his palm was the same seven-star symbol carved above the Door of Dawn.“The sun was never stolen,” he said.
A deep rumble travelled through the mountain.“It was hidden.”“Why?” Rowan asked.The king looked at him.“Because something was coming.”The lights in the chamber went out.
For several seconds, there was absolute darkness.Then a single golden light appeared behind them.Elara turned.
At the end of the staircase stood a figure wearing a silver mask.It was holding the same kind of compass Elara carried.The figure tilted its head.“You shouldn’t have opened the door.”
Rowan stepped in front of Elara.The masked stranger laughed softly.“Now they know you’re awake.”The king inside the coffin suddenly screamed.
And far above them, beneath three hundred years of darkness, the sky over Avelon turned gold.