Page 3 of Pets in Space 10

Gloria scowled when the other portraits snickered. “Grow up.”

“Never,” they all chimed together, laughter rippling from canvas to canvas like a wave of mischief.

Selene turned serious again. “The Stormholds are powerful. Too powerful for many in the Mage Circles. So we preserved our true history where none but our bloodline could find it.”

Harmonia’s brow furrowed. “You mean… this room?”

Selene nodded. “And something deeper. The Nether Room. The true vault of knowledge.”

“The what — ?”

Before she could finish, a sudden gust of warm, charged air blew past her. She whirled in a tight circle, her jaw dropping in disbelief.

William had stepped out of his portrait.

Actually stepped out of it!

Harmonia stumbled back several feet and stared at him. Magic was one thing. Painted ancestors stepping out of their frames like it was a Sunday stroll was another.

“You-you — What are you?” she finally hissed.

His boots clicked softly on the crystal floor. He straightened his lapels with pride. “I am the only one who remembers how to cross over.”

“You’re not that special,” Mavis grumbled.

“I am today,” William said smoothly, then turned to Harmonia. “Would you care for a tour, my dear?”

“Oh, stop showing off, William. She’s not here to be wooed. She’s here because the world is about to go sideways — again.”

Still dazed, she nodded and took the arm he extended with courtly flair. His coat smelled faintly of cedar and a woodsy musk, and his presence shimmered just slightly at the edges, as if reality hadn’t fully decided whether to accept him.

She turned when he began walking. Her gaze flew to the portraits behind her with wide, curious eyes. The others were talking in a rush of heated whispers. She turned back to focus on William as he guided her past glowing tomes, whispering crystals, and interactive memory globes.

“These books hold spells for resonant manipulation, spatial looping, and pocket dimensions. We didn’t stop at what the Council deemed appropriate. We built beyond.”

They paused before a circular case filled with paper the color of stardust. “This is the story of how it all began,” he said with reverence. “With Selene. She was just sixteen-years-young when she cleverly enhanced a mirror portal using a thunderbird feather and dragon-heart crystal.”

“She accidentally opened a dimensional rift,” Selene’s voice called from the painting.

“And nearly shredded reality,” Gloria added dryly.

“But the rift held,” William finished, eyes shining. “And the strength to control it — that’s how we earned our name.”

“Stormhold,” Harmonia whispered. “Because she held the storm.”

William smiled. “Well, more like strong minded amid chaos… one that she created — but yes, she held. Storm-minded just didn’t have the same ring to it.”

Harmonia gazed in wonder as she looked up at the crystal dome. Surrounded by her ancestors’ voices, by wonder, by magic older and deeper than anything the Mage Council had dared to preserve — she realized something had shifted.

Not just her understanding.

Her destiny.

***

William stopped before what looked like nothing more than a carved section of stone wall near the back of the chamber. To Harmonia’s eye, there was nothing special about it — no glow, no sigils, no hum of concealed magic. Just smooth, curved stone etched faintly with an old family crest.

He released her arm and placed his palm against the symbol.

The stone rippled like the surface of a pond.

The entire wall breathed in — then exhaled, groaning as centuries’-old mechanisms slid into motion. Dust lifted like a veil. The wall split vertically and folded open with a deep, resonant thrum of ancient magic awakening.

A staircase spiraled downward into darkness, lit only by faint pulses of golden light that sparked to life with each step.

The air shifted — cooler now, tinged with minerals, aged parchment, and something deeper… something that smelled like lightning trapped in stone.

“Welcome,” William said, his voice soft with reverence, “to the Nether Room.”

Harmonia descended carefully, the hem of her robe brushing against the smooth, seamless stone. The further they walked, the quieter everything became. Not silent — never silent — but still, like standing in the space between heartbeats.

At the base of the stairs, the tunnel opened into a vast subterranean chamber.

Harmonia drew in a sharp breath.

The ceiling arched far above, carved crystal domes set into the rock like stars locked beneath the earth.

They pulsed gently with white-blue light, mimicking constellations no sky on Zelos had ever shown.

Shelves of ancient tomes stretched into the distance, guarded by floating spheres of light that bobbed silently between rows.

On pedestals around the room sat impossible artifacts — some humming, some frozen mid-transformation, others silently radiating knowledge too old to be labeled.

In one corner, a waterfall poured sideways into a glass basin, defying gravity, the water glowing faintly with spells woven into its current. Across the room, a silver table floated above the ground, rotating slowly, its surface displaying flickering images of different realms in real time.

“I…” Harmonia whispered, stunned. “I had no idea this existed.”

“Few do,” William said with a hint of pride. “Only the heirs of the line, chosen when the room deems them ready, will be shown the wonders held within. The magic here is alive. It listens. It remembers.”

He walked slowly to a round dais in the center of the room and gestured for her to join him.

“This,” he said, running his hand over the stone etched with ancient runes, “is the original Circle of Threads. It links our family’s memories, history, and spells through a tapestry of blood and intent. Each generation contributes. Each learns from the ones before.”

He touched the center glyph, and suddenly, illusions bloomed to life all around them — dozens, hundreds of scenes from Stormhold history.

A child with wild curls — Selene — laughing as she painted runes with honey on a dragon’s scales.

Malcolm taming a storm to impress a girl.

Gloria in full battle armor, surrounded by shattered golems. Mavis tossing a fireball behind her with a wink as a monster three times her size chased her down a hill.

Harmonia turned in slow circles, wonder blooming in her chest. “They were… incredible.”

“They are,” William corrected gently. “And so are you.”

She looked at him, startled.

“You’ve inherited more than just magic, Harmonia.

You’ve inherited a legacy. The knowledge, the courage, and — yes — the same restless thirst for knowledge and adventure.

You share the spark Selene had when she cracked open the sky, and your father’s drive when he mapped entire realms with nothing but a ring and a rune. ”

He walked with her along one wall, where heavy books lined a golden-etched shelf.

“These are the Forbidden Tomes — spells the Council feared. They said they were too dangerous. But we believed that knowledge, even dangerous knowledge, could be guarded… if passed into the right hands.”

Harmonia reached out, her fingertips brushing the spine of a book that felt warm under her touch, as if it recognized her.

“What happens now?” she asked softly.

“That,” William said, smiling as he folded his hands behind his back, “is up to you. The Nether Room has accepted you. It will open to you from this moment forward. Learn from it. Add to it. Protect it.”

She looked around again, this time with the awe of someone realizing they had stepped not just into a secret chamber — but into the heart of a living legacy.

“You are Harmonia Stormhold,” William said, his voice echoing like a memory as he faded, leaving her heart thundering in the silence.

“And your story is only just beginning.”