CHRONICLES OF EOIN AND EILIDH: Celestial Codex

MAELIS THE SEER

The wind blew gently.

Soft, curling through the trees like a warning, rustling the leaves in a way that made Eilidh’s skin prickle.

They had been walking for hours, guided only by the glow of the pendant and the markings on their grandfather’s map. And now—

Now they were lost.

Eoin exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. “We need to find shelter.”

Eilidh nodded, though her eyes never left the trees. Something felt… off.

The forest was too quiet.

The kind of quiet that wasn’t natural.

And then—

A flicker of movement.

A shadow shifting just beyond the trees, moving so quickly it was gone before she could blink.

“Eoin,” she whispered.

He turned, following her gaze. “Did you see that?”

She nodded.

And then a voice, old and knowing, echoed from the shadows.

“You carry the sky around your neck, child.”

Eilidh spun, reaching for the dagger at her belt.

Eoin stepped in front of her, his stance tense.

From the shadows, a figure emerged.

An old woman, wrapped in layers of dark blue robes, her long silver hair cascading down her back. Her eyes, pale and unreadable, seemed to hold the weight of centuries.

She looked at them as if she already knew them.

“You are far from home,” she murmured, tilting her head. “And yet, the stars have led you here.”

Eoin clenched his fists. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled.

“I am Maelis the seer.”

The name rang in Eilidh’s mind like She knew it.

Or rather, she had heard it before.

“Our grandfather…” she whispered. “He mentioned you.”

Maelis’s smile didn’t fade. “I would hope so. Alasdair, I knew him well.”

Eoin and Eilidh exchanged a glance.

“Come,” Maelis said, turning away. “There are things you must know.”

Maelis’s home was not what Eilidh expected.

It wasn’t a crumbling hut or a hidden cave—it was a tower, standing alone in a clearing, its stone walls entwined with ivy.

Inside, the air smelled of old parchment and herbs. Candles flickered along the walls, casting strange shadows that seemed almost alive.

She led them to a table covered in maps, scrolls, and strange, glowing crystals.

“You seek the Celestial Codex,” Maelis said, taking a seat. “But you do not understand what it is.”

Eoin hesitated. “We know it’s powerful.”

Maelis chuckled. “Powerful? Yes. But power is a dangerous thing in the wrong hands.”

She reached for a book, flipping through its brittle pages. “Your grandfather… he was one of the last Guardians of the Codex. He spent his life protecting its secrets.”

Eilidh’s heart pounded.

“You mean… he was part of a secret society?”

Maelis nodded. “The Keepers of the Sky. They were sworn to protect the celestial artifacts from those who would misuse them.”

Eilidh’s fingers curled around the pendant. “This… is one of them, isn’t it?”

Maelis’s gaze sharpened.

“Yes. The Pendant of Elarion. It is one of the keys to finding the Codex.”

Eoin frowned. “And the others?”

Maelis exhaled. “Scattered. Hidden. And some… already stolen.”

Eilidh felt a chill creep up her spine.

“Who took them?”

Maelis’s expression darkened. “The Stellar Council.”

Eoin leaned forward. “Who are they?”

Maelis’s voice was grim.

“A group that believes the Codex should be used—not hidden. They see it as a tool to reshape the world. To control fate itself.”

Eilidh swallowed. “And they’re after us?”

Maelis nodded. “You are your grandfather’s legacy. And you have something they need.”

Eoin clenched his jaw. “The pendant.”

Maelis sighed. “That, and the knowledge he left behind. You may not realize it yet, but the map, the journal—they are the first steps to unlocking the Codex.”

Eilidh’s hands tightened around the edges of the table.

“So what do we do?”

Maelis’s gaze was steady. “You run. You hide. And you learn.”

Maelis led them to a balcony, where the night sky stretched above them.

“Look,” she murmured, pointing at the stars. “Do you see it?”

Eilidh frowned. Then—

She saw it.

The same constellation from the map. The one the pendant had reacted to.

“It’s a path,” she whispered.

Maelis nodded. “One that only those chosen can follow.”

Eoin exhaled. “And where does it lead?”

Maelis’s expression was unreadable.

“To the Codex.”

A beat of silence.

Eilidh met her brother’s eyes. They had a choice.

Stay hidden.

Or follow the stars.

Eilidh already knew the answer.

She turned back to Maelis, her voice firm.

“Where do we start?”

The candlelight flickered.

It cast long shadows across the walls, making the strange symbols carved into the stone seem like they were moving. The air inside Maelis’s tower was thick with the scent of burning herbs—sage, lavender, and something unfamiliar.

Eilidh sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked on the pendant in her palm. It pulsed faintly, a rhythmic glow that seemed to match the beat of her heart.

Eoin leaned against the table, arms crossed. “So, are you finally going to tell us what this thing actually does?”

Maelis stood near the fireplace, stirring a small iron pot filled with dark liquid. “Patience, child,” she murmured.

Eoin huffed. “We don’t exactly have time for patience.”

Maelis turned, lifting a single brow. “And yet, time is what you must understand before you can wield what has been given to you.”

Eilidh glanced at Eoin before looking back at Maelis. “So, the pendant. It’s… a key?”

Maelis nodded. She set the iron pot down and moved closer, lowering herself onto the floor beside Eilidh.

“It is more than a key,” she said. “It is a bridge. A connection between the stars and the earth. Between the past and the present.”

Eilidh traced her thumb over the intricate patterns on the pendant’s surface. “But what does that mean?”

Maelis sighed, as if choosing her words carefully.

“The Codex is not simply a book or a map. It is a source of power—ancient and vast, older than any kingdom or empire. But such power cannot simply be taken. It must be earned. The pendant is one of the only things that can unlock its secrets.”

Eoin frowned. “And our grandfather had it this whole time?”

Maelis nodded. “He was one of its last protectors.”

Silence stretched between them.

Eilidh could feel the weight of it. The weight of responsibility.

She looked up at Maelis. “And what about the other artifacts?”

Maelis hesitated. “They are… scattered. Hidden. Some, as I told you before, are in the hands of those who would misuse them.”

Eoin’s fingers drummed against his arm. “The Stellar Council.”

Maelis’s expression darkened. “Yes.”

Eilidh felt a shiver run down her spine.

“So what are we supposed to do?” she asked.

Maelis studied her for a moment. Then she reached into the folds of her robe, pulling out a small, round object.

It was a charm.

A simple piece of metal, etched with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. She placed it in Eilidh’s hand.

“This will protect you,” she said. “To an extent.”

Eilidh turned it over, feeling its warmth. “From what?”

Maelis’s eyes met hers. “From being found.”

Eoin stiffened. “You mean—?”

“The Stellar Council is already looking for you,” Maelis said quietly. “They may not yet know who you are, but they will soon.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Eoin took a step forward. “Then we need to move. Now.”

Maelis nodded. “Yes. But not blindly.”

She gestured for them to stand.

“Come,” she said. “There is still much you must learn before you go.”

Maelis led them to the center of the room, where a large, circular design had been carved into the floor.

It was a star map.

Not just any map—it was moving.

The stars shifted, rearranging themselves as if responding to some unseen force.

Eilidh stared. “It’s alive.”

Maelis chuckled. “In a way, yes.”

She knelt beside the map, running her fingers over the glowing lines. “This is how celestial magic works. It is not like the magic of men, with spells and incantations. It is older. Deeper. It is woven into the fabric of the universe itself.”

Eoin crouched beside her. “And the artifacts? They tap into it?”

Maelis nodded. “Exactly.”

She touched the pendant hanging around Eilidh’s neck. The glow brightened instantly.

“It reacts to the stars,” she said. “And the stars react to it. They are bound together. That is why it guided you here.”

Eilidh swallowed.

“So… if we follow the stars, we find the Codex?”

Maelis’s lips pressed together. “Not quite. The stars do not give answers so easily. They guide, but they also test. And some paths—once taken—cannot be undone.”

Eoin glanced at Eilidh, then back at Maelis. “Then teach us what we need to know.”

Maelis studied them for a long moment.

Then, she nodded.

The lesson stretched into the night.

Maelis taught them how to read the constellations—not just as points of light, but as messages. Warnings. Signs of things to come.

She showed them how to listen to the pendant, how to feel when it pulled in a certain direction.

But she also warned them of the dangers.

“There are forces in this world that do not wish to be seen,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “And there are places where the stars will not follow you. Where the light does not reach.”

Eilidh shivered.

Eoin clenched his jaw. “Then we’ll just have to make our own light.”

Maelis smiled, but there was something sad in her eyes.

“You sound like your grandfather.”

By dawn, Eilidh and Eoin stood at the edge of the clearing, packs on their backs, weapons secured.

Maelis stood before them, her hands folded in front of her.

“You will face many trials,” she said. “Some from those who hunt you. Some from the Codex itself. But no matter what, you must not lose faith in each other.”

Eilidh tightened her grip on the charm Maelis had given her.

“We won’t.”

Maelis stepped forward, placing a hand on Eoin’s shoulder, then Eilidh’s.

“The path ahead is uncertain,” she murmured. “But remember this—you were meant for this journey. The stars have chosen you.”

Eoin nodded, his expression set.

Eilidh looked up at the sky. The pendant pulsed against her chest.

The stars above seemed… brighter.

Clearer.

As if they were waiting.

She took a deep breath.

“Let’s go.”