Chapter 66: The Egg Box

The next morning arrived far earlier than Gene would have preferred.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of his room.

For a brief moment he forgot about prophecies, cults, eldritch eggs, cursed artifacts, ancient gems, and mysterious grandmothers.

Then he remembered all of them at once.

“Ugh. But why?”

The universe apparently hated Gene and refused to give him a peaceful morning.

A knock sounded at his door.

Before Gene could answer, Selene walked in carrying a basket of breakfast pastries.

“Good morning.”

Gene eyed the basket.

“Ok You’re forgiven.”

Selene rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t even accused me of anything.”

“I’m planning for whatever happens later on today.”

“That’s not how forgiveness works.”

Gene shrugged as he accepted a pastry.

“I disagree.”

He chomped down on the flaky crust and burnt his tongue immediately.

“Oops watch out they are hot!”

“Sthee, I thold you thsomething would thappen!”

Selene rolled her eyes again.

———

A few minutes later they were heading toward the portal station.

Today they had a goal.

Find Selene’s grandmother’s missing egg box.

Preferably without accidentally awakening another ancient creature.

Gene considered that a reasonable objective.

⸻

The Mooncrest family estate lay several hours away from the capital.

The old mansion stood on a lonely hill overlooking forests and distant mountains.

As their carriage approached, Gene immediately understood why nobody lived there anymore.

The place looked haunted.

Half the windows were broken.

Vines crawled across cracked stone walls.

The roof had collapsed in several places.

One tower had partially fallen over.

Nature had spent years reclaiming the property.

Even the air felt older.

Dustier.

The mansion looked less like a home and more like someones distant memory.

Selene stared quietly.

“My grandmother absolutely loved this place.”

Gene nodded.

“I definitely see why.”

She looked surprised.

“Really?”

Gene smiled.

“It has a lot of character.”

“That’s just a polite way of saying, it’s falling apart.”

“Exactly loads of character.”

⸻

The front doors groaned as they pushed them open.

Dust danced in the cascading light from the newly opened doorway.

The entrance hall stretched before them.

Massive staircases curved upward.

Portraits lined the walls.

Most of them had deteriorated.

Several paintings were so faded they appeared ghostly.

Gene examined one.

A stern-looking noblewoman glared down at him.

“Was that your grandmother?”

Selene looked.

“Nope not that one.”

“She seems very judgmental.”

“Well THAT person was my great aunt.”

“Ah, duly noted.”

“She was very, very judgmental.”

The portrait somehow looked pleased at that statement.

⸻

The search began.

Hours passed.

They explored room after room.

Libraries.

Bedrooms.

Storage chambers.

Ballrooms.

Studies.

Attics.

Nothing.

No egg box.

No clues.

No mysterious artifacts.

Gene found three mice.

One suspicious teapot.

And a portrait whose eyes definitely moved when nobody was looking.

The portrait refused to explain itself.

⸻

By afternoon they found themselves inside what had once been Selene’s grandmother’s private study.

The room was surprisingly intact.

A large desk sat near the window.

Bookshelves lined the walls.

Dust covered everything.

Selene carefully opened desk drawers.

Most contained old letters.

Financial records.

Receipts.

Nothing useful.

Then she paused.

“Gene.”

He looked over.

Selene held up a yellowed envelope.

His pulse quickened.

“Please tell me that’s not another prophecy.”

She opened it.

“No.”

A pause.

“That’s what makes it somehow more concerning.”

Gene moved closer.

Inside the envelope was a single folded note.

The handwriting was elegant.

Neat.

Deliberate.

Selene immediately recognized it.

“It’s hers.”

⸻

The note was short.

Very short.

Like frustratingly short for the time it took to find it.

To my beloved granddaughter,

If you are reading this, then events have unfolded exactly as expected.

Do not search for the box here.

The egg belongs where stories gather.

Seek the merchant beneath the silver lantern.

Trade only what is demanded.

Trust the boy from another world.

And remember.

The egg was never the treasure.

Love,

Grandmother

⸻

The room fell silent.

Gene read it twice.

Then three times.

“The egg wasn’t the treasure?”

Selene frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“No idea.”

Inwardly, Gene wondered if Selene’s grandmother somehow knew the egg he summoned.

He didn’t like that answer.

Gene pointed toward the note.

“Stories gather.”

“That might mean the Summoners Market.”

Selene nodded immediately.

“The merchant beneath the silver lantern.”

“Specific enough to follow.”

They exchanged glances.

A new lead.

Finally.

⸻

The Summoners Market was crowded as always.

Thousands of people moved between colorful stalls.

Merchants shouted advertisements.

Summons wandered freely.

Artifacts glowed.

Strange creatures lounged beside storefronts.

The place felt alive.

Gene and Selene spent nearly an hour searching.

Then they found it.

A small stall tucked between two larger shops.

A silver lantern hung above the entrance.

The flame burned with pale blue fire.

The merchant waiting beneath it looked ancient.

Not old.

Ancient.

His beard reached his waist.

His eyes seemed far too sharp.

The moment they approached, he smiled.

“I was wondering how long it would take.”

Gene immediately disliked that sentence.

⸻

The merchant reached beneath the counter.

He produced a familiar wooden box.

Selene froze.

The egg box.

It matched her description perfectly.

Worn wood.

Ancient carvings.

Silver hinges.

Gene could feel power radiating from it.

The merchant set it gently on the counter.

“The agreed payment.”

Selene frowned.

“How much?”

The merchant smiled.

“The necklace.”

Silence.

Gene and Selene exchanged looks.

Then looked back at the merchant.

“The necklace?” Selene repeated.

The old man nodded.

“Nothing else.”

Gene’s eyes narrowed.

“You won’t accept points?”

“No.”

“Gold?”

“No.”

“Artifacts?”

“No.”

“Several mildly cursed chickens?”

The merchant blinked.

“…No.”

Gene shrugged.

“Had to ask.”

⸻

Selene slowly touched the necklace.

The silver pendant rested against her chest.

The same necklace that reacted to the prophecy vault.

The same necklace connected to her family.

The same necklace that apparently held enormous importance.

Giving it away felt wrong.

Very wrong.

The merchant simply waited.

Patient.

Calm.

As if he already knew what would happen.

Then something surprising occurred.

The necklace began glowing.

A soft silver light filled the stall.

The pendant detached itself.

Floating into the air.

Selene gasped.

The necklace drifted toward the egg box.

The merchant smiled.

The box clicked open.

The necklace settled inside and glowed violently.

A second later, a different necklace emerged.

Nearly identical.

Except this one contained a small golden key hidden within the design.

The merchant nodded.

“The exchange has now been complete.”

Gene stared.

“What?”

The merchant merely smiled.

“The true necklace was always inside.”

Neither of them understood.

Before they could ask questions—

The merchant simply vanished.

Completely.

One moment he stood there.

The next he was gone.

No flash.

No portal.

Nothing.

Just empty air.

Gene blinked.

“…I hate mysterious old people sometimes.”

⸻

They hurried back to the hotel.

The box remained closed the entire journey.

Neither wanted to open it inside a crowded market.

Especially after everything involving prophecies.

The universe had lost their trust.

⸻

Hours later they sat together inside Gene’s private study.

The box rested on the table.

The room was quiet.

Everyone else had been sent away.

Just in case.

Gene slowly opened the lid.

The hinges creaked.

Inside lay two things.

A folded note.

And something yellow.

The yellow object sat deep inside the box.

Partially hidden in darkness.

Neither could make out its exact shape.

Gene reached toward it.

Then stopped.

“Maybe let’s read the note first.”

Selene nodded.

That seemed wise.

She unfolded the letter.

Immediately recognizing the handwriting.

Her grandmother once again.

The note began:

To Selene and Gene,

Both froze.

Gene pointed.

“She knew about me.”

Selene slowly nodded.

“Apparently.”

Neither found that reassuring.

The old woman had been gone for years now.

Yet somehow she had left a letter addressed specifically to Gene.

A man who shouldn’t even exist in this world.

The implications were mildly terrifying.

The note continued for several pages.

And as they read—

Both realized that Selene’s grandmother had known far more than anyone ever imagined.

Far more.

Enough to leave warnings.

Instructions.

And perhaps the first real clues about the prophecy.

But those revelations would have to wait.

Because for now—

The yellow object remained hidden within the darkness of the egg box.

Waiting.

Patiently.

As if it had been expecting them all along.

And somewhere deep within Mystic Blood Valley—

Fate quietly continued moving forward.

One piece at a time.