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The Trelawney Doubloon
The smell of decaying paper and iron-gall ink usually kept the modern world at bay. Arthur Vayne preferred it that way. For thirty-four years, his desk at the back of the archive office had been a barrier against the hurried, careless noise of the outside.
Then the young man walked in, holding a velvet pouch.
“I was told you look at old things,” the young man said, his voice hesitant as he navigated the narrow aisles of leather-bound ledgers. “I found this in my great-great-grandmother’s chest. From the war.”
Arthur adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles, not looking up from the 19th-century shipping manifest he was indexing. “Most war-era artifacts are of sentimental value, young man. Letters, uniform buttons, fascist-era lira.”
“It’s not Italian,” the man said, setting the pouch on the green felt blotting pad. “And it’s much older than the war.”
Arthur sighed softly, removing his spectacles. He reached for the velvet pouch, expecting a common trade token. Instead, his fingers registered an unexpected, heavy density. Pure gold.
Arthur tipped the velvet pouch. A heavy gold disc slid out, landing on the green felt blotting pad with a dull, solid thud.
He didn’t even pick up his magnifying loupe. He didn’t need to. His eyes locked onto the crisp, unmistakable engraving of a stylized Phoenix on one side, and a Raven on the other.
Arthur froze. The air left his lungs in a sharp, rattling gasp. His hands began to tremble so violently that he had to grip the edge of his desk to keep his balance.
“M-Merciful heavens,” Arthur stammered, his face draining of all color as he stared at the gold. He looked up at Faison, his eyes wide behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. “Young man… do you have any idea what this is? This is a Trelawney doubloon! Minted by Governor Gideon Trelawney himself in 1822! There are only two on record in the entire Crown Archive, given as birth gifts to his twin grandchildren, Brianna Raven and Gideon Phoenix! They are supposed to be a myth—lost to time!”
Faison blinked, taken aback by the older man’s sudden explosion of energy. “So… it’s worth something?”
“Worth something?!” Arthur practically shouted, slamming his hand on a stack of ledgers, sending a cloud of dust into the air. “It is priceless! It is a sovereign piece of the Andeeverse bloodline!”(doesn’t sound right, must change)
Arthur adjusted his loupe, his breath fogging the lens slightly as he scanned every millimeter of the gold surface. He looked for a stray scratch, a variation in the weight, or a unique minting flaw near the word Memoria.
Nothing. The craftsmanship was flawlessly identical to the archival descriptions.
“Remarkable,” Arthur whispered, straightening his back and removing the loupe. “It is perfectly unblemished. Governor Trelawney must have demanded absolute care for these pieces. There isn’t a single distinguishing mark to tell whether this belonged to Brianna Raven or Gideon Phoenix.”
Faison leaned in, crossing his arms. “So… we don’t know whose chest it was sitting in?”
“No,” Arthur said, a spark of pure academic thrill in his eyes. “And that means the true history of this specific doubloon is still a mystery. But the fact that it survived the chaos of the war in Italy and made it to your hands…” He looked up at Faison seriously. “The Crown Archives must be notified immediately.”
Arthur turned to his typewriter, the keys clacking loudly as he drafted the official report. ⌨️
CROWN ARCHIVES • URGENT DISPATCH
LOG CATEGORY: Sovereign Artifact Recovery
DATE OF RECORD: May 18, 2026
CATALOGUER: Arthur Vance, Senior Archivist
1. ITEM DESCRIPTION & MANUFACTURE
Subject is a single, solid gold doubloon of exceptional purity, weight matching the 1822 Trelawney minting standards. The piece features two distinct, highly stylized relief carvings: a Phoenix on the obverse side, and a Raven on the reverse side.
Edge lettering remains crisp despite its age. The Phoenix side bears the Latin inscription Refugio (“I rise”). The Raven side bears the inscription Memoria (“Memory”).
2. HISTORICAL CONTEXT (1822)
According to restricted archival plates, Governor Gideon Trelawney commissioned exactly two of these duplicate doubloons in 1822. They were intended as sacred birth-gifts for his twin grandchildren, Brianna Raven Mallét and Gideon Phoenix Mallét. The family legacy demanded these heirlooms be treated with absolute reverence; consequently, the submitted specimen shows no casual wear, play-damage, or distinguishing marks. It is physically impossible to determine which twin originally held this specific coin.
3. PROVENANCE & MODERN RECOVERY
The specimen was recently recovered by a direct descendant, Faison, during an inventory of a family estate in Italy. The artifact had been stored within a wartime Hope Chest belonging to the subject’s great-great-grandmother. It survived the mid-20th-century conflicts in the Italian countryside entirely undetected.
4. ARCHIVIST’S CONCLUSION & STATUS
The current possessor, Faison, recognizes the item solely as a familial token and personal good luck charm. He has explicitly declined to part with the coin or surrender it to the Crown Archive vaults.
As the twin ownership remains unidentifiable and the second doubloon is still missing, this archivist recommends leaving the artifact in the subject’s possession. The Crown will maintain a passive record of its location. It remains a quiet, living piece of the Trelawney lineage, moving through the modern world unnoticed.
[END OF REPORT]
Arthur rolled the paper out of the typewriter, the sharp snap of the lever echoing in the quiet room. He folded the dispatch, sealed it with red wax, and set it aside before looking back at the young man.
Slowly, Arthur picked up the gold doubloon. It felt heavy, warm, and entirely too significant for the modern world. He slid it back into the velvet pouch and handed it across the desk, but he didn’t let go immediately.
“Take it, Faison,” Arthur said, his voice dropping to a low, deadly serious whisper. “But heed this warning. To you, it is a piece of your great-great-grandmother’s past. A lucky charm. But to the Crown—and to those who hunt the Crown’s shadows—this is a sovereign key to an ancient lineage.”
Faison frowned, feeling the sudden shift in the room’s temperature. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying that history has a way of reclaiming what belongs to it,” Arthur said, releasing his grip on the pouch. “Keep it hidden. Keep it safe. Because if the wrong people realize what is resting in your pocket… a dusty attic will be the safest place this coin has ever been.”
Faison swallowed hard, nodding as he took the pouch and slipped it deep into his jacket. “Thanks, Arthur.”
As the young man walked out into the bright afternoon street, Arthur watched him through the grime-streaked window. He picked up his pen to resume cataloging, but his eyes kept drifting back to the empty space on his felt pad. The Andeeverse was waking up, and the gold had already begun to move.
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