As they waited, a figure moved toward them from across the room, his skin a golden tan. Sharp green eyes held each of them in turn, lingering a fraction longer on Kale before shifting to Liliana.

His voice was calm. "The Scarlet Veil's finest, I assume. You don't come to the Watchful Eye without reason."

"They say you know things. We're here for that," Kale said.

A flicker of amusement crossed the Archivist's face. "Knowledge is earned, not handed out like trinkets." He extended his hand, and with a graceful twist, a small, silent bell materialized between his fingers. It hovered there, suspended like a promise or a warning.

"Each question has its price. What do you bring to trade for the answers you seek?"

The Archivist's words suggested that this exchange was anything but simple—or perhaps, deceptively so. Every offer they made carried the risk of turning against them just as easily as it could lead them forward.

"Let's cut to it, then," Liliana said. "You obviously have something you want from us, Archivist. What is it?"

"You're perceptive, Lady Liliana of the Scarlet Veil. Yes, I have a need, a curiosity, if you will, about certain archives held within a certain temple. But only those which lie… beyond reach, save for the select few."

Kale crossed his arms. "You're telling me you came to us for a few dusty scrolls?"

"Not 'dusty scrolls,' bladeweaver, but knowledge. The kind that transcends generations. Information of the sort that others have long thought vanished from the world."

"I can offer you something you need in exchange. Vital intelligence on those threats that lurk just beyond sight… and perhaps a few insights on how to tame that weapon of yours."

Liliana studied him. "And how exactly do we know you're telling the truth? We could agree, lead you to the temple, and you could walk away with nothing but lies."

Her words were careful, deliberate, meant to force him to tip his hand. But inside, her thoughts moved faster than the words she spoke. He wanted access to the bladeweaver temple—that much was clear. He must have pieced together that they knew where it was, but it was equally obvious he didn't. Not yet. If he knew the way, he wouldn't be here, spinning his tale and trying to strike a deal.

That gave them an edge, but a precarious one. The man wasn't foolish, he wouldn't have approached them unless he thought he could manipulate the situation in his favor. And if they weren't careful, he might still find a way to exploit what they knew. The temple was more than just a destination, it was a secret, one they couldn't afford to let fall into the wrong hands.

Her expression didn't change, though inside her thought churned. If he was lying, leading him there would be a mistake they couldn't undo. If he was telling the truth, ignoring him might cost them even more. The question wasn't just about trust, it was about risk. And in her experience, risk had a way of cutting both ways.

The Archivist smiled. "Caution suits you well, Lady Liliana. But understand, I deal in truths, not empty promises. I have no interest in wasting either of our time. Help me access what I seek, and I will give you the answers you desire. Besides, if you truly believed I would lie, you wouldn't be here. A man like me has a reputation for a reason. "

He leaned back, calm, waiting for their response with the quiet patience of someone who held far more cards than he let on.

Liliana glanced at Kale and Rika, weighing the unspoken options. There was an edge to the Archivist, a certainty that made it clear he wouldn't press for what he wanted. He'd simply wait, confident they'd come around, as if he knew something they didn't.

Kale broke the silence. "If you're as straightforward as you claim, then tell us, why are these archives so important to you?"

The Archivist's expression softened with a kind of satisfied approval. "Curiosity," he replied, "is often what separates the cautious from the wise."

He ran his fingers over the silent bell still suspended between his fingers. "The archives I seek hold knowledge beyond what any single mind could dream of, knowledge hidden for centuries, history, power, secrets even the gods might have forgotten. The value of it is immense and, some would say, too dangerous to ever see the light again.

"Yet you, of all people, understand the risks of wielding power without understanding it. Knowledge is the path to strength, and strength can be its own shield."

He paused, glancing from Liliana to Kale. "It is as simple as that."

Rika scoffed, folding her arms. "So let me get this straight. You want us to hand over the keys to some ancient archives, and in return, you're dangling some vague promises? Doesn't exactly scream 'fair trade' to me."

"On the contrary," he said. "I offer precisely what you need: connections, names, safe passages, truths you won't find anywhere else. If you want to reach those who operate in shadows, or if you need guidance on that weapon you carry." He nodded toward Lifedrinker. "You'll find no better ally than me."

Liliana's eyes narrowed. "And we're supposed to believe you won't use this knowledge against us?"

The Archivist inclined his head, the slightest smile playing on his lips. "Trust is, of course, a dangerous game. But consider this: my survival, my very reputation, depends on neutrality. Knowledge is my only loyalty. I keep it close, I sell it wisely, and I never, ever waste it."

Liliana and Kale shared a look, weighing his words and the risks ahead.

Kale sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We don't have time to play around. We'll get you what you want, but only on our terms."

The Archivist smiled, as though he'd expected no less.

"Very well," the Archivist replied, and with a flick of his hand, the bell between his fingers vanished as silently as it had appeared. He leaned forward slightly. "Now that we have an understanding, let's proceed."

"Not so fast," Liliana said. "We get you into the archives, you get what you want, and you give us everything. No half-truths, no vague hints. We need real, actionable information."

"Of course, I have no interest in renegotiating terms once we've agreed. You'll get your answers."

Rika raised an eyebrow. "And just like that, you've got all the right answers, huh?"

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"In my line of work, being unprepared isn't an option. I've had ample time to consider what you might need and what I might require in return."

"Then tell us what you know about the bladeweaver general. Where can we find them?" Kale said.

The Archivist paused, as if sifting through a mental catalogue. "You'll want to look west of the city. The general has a way of avoiding attention, but there's an old, forgotten keep, a remnant from wars most have long since buried. You'll find her there, hidden in the ruins."

"And you're sure of this?" Liliana asked.

"I wouldn't say it if I weren't," the Archivist replied. "She's cautious, understandably so, but everyone leaves traces, if you know where to look."

Kale and Liliana met each other's eyes. Finally, something to work with.

Kale turned back to the Archivist. It sounded like the truth, or at least close enough to it. The Archivist's tone wasn't defensive or evasive, and his words carried a confidence that felt hard to fake. But Kale had learned not to take people at face value, especially with something as important as this.

Still, there was something about the way the Archivist spoke, the ease with which he laid out his reasoning. It wasn't the rambling of someone bluffing their way through a lie. It was calculated, deliberate. If he was lying, he was a damn good liar.

Kale met Liliana's eyes again, her expression as guarded as his thoughts. They both knew what the other was thinking: This could be the lead they needed, or the trap they couldn't see.

"And what about Lifedrinker?" Kale asked. "You said you might know of a way to 'tame' it?"

"Tame might be a stretch. But I can provide insights into how to… mitigate its influence, perhaps. The archives may reveal more, and I would be glad to assist you there."

"Then we have a deal," Liliana said. "But remember, cross us, and even your reputation won't protect you."

"I have no intention of breaking our agreement, Lady Liliana. After all, a deal with the Scarlet Veil isn't something to be taken lightly."

He extended a hand, waiting for Liliana to take it. She hesitated for a moment, then shook it firmly.

"Good," he said. "Let's begin."

The party led the Archivist through Nyridia's western quarter until they arrived at the old archives. Inside, Liliana pulled out the ancient tome and opened it to the riddle they'd solved once before. She recited the riddle aloud, and as the final word left her lips, a shimmer of light pulsed on the floor before them. Slowly, the hidden portal to the Temple of Aeloria revealed itself.

The Archivist turned to the portal, admiration briefly crossing his otherwise composed face. "Impressive," he said, stepping closer as the trio led the way into the hidden temple.

They moved swiftly through the quiet corridors, and as they passed Serassa's lifeless body, still lying where they had last seen her, Kale halted, a look of regret on his face.

Kale couldn't stop the thoughts that flooded his mind as he stared at Serassa. She had been a guardian, a sentinel who had stood watch over something sacred—someone who had given everything for her duty. And now? Now, she was just another casualty, her sacrifice lying unacknowledged in a silent hall.

He wondered what kind of life she'd had before all of this. Did she know this would be her end? Did she accept it? Or did she fight, believing she could win, only to be struck down by the blade she'd thought to hide from the world?

He felt a deep sense of failure, as if they should have been able to do more for her. She hadn't deserved to die like this, alone. It struck him that this might be their fate too, if they weren't careful. Forgotten protectors, bodies abandoned to stone and shadow.

"We owe her more than this," he murmured. The thought stuck in his mind: Serassa had been a warning, not just of what Lifedrinker could do, but of what this path might demand from all of them.

"It feels wrong to just leave her here," he said, casting a glance at Liliana.

Liliana met his gaze, her initial impulse to press on fading as she read the respect in his eyes. She understood, even if every minute was precious. With a nod, she said, "You're right. She deserves better."

Kale's expression softened. "I'll find something to wrap her in, put her to rest properly. You two go ahead without me, I'll catch up."

With another nod, Rika and Liliana continued down the path toward the hidden archives, leaving Kale behind. He watched them disappear deeper into the temple, then turned back to Serassa. After a moment of thought, he left the room to search for a suitable shroud, his mind set on finding a place where she could be laid to rest with dignity.

***

Liliana, Rika, and the Archivist walked on in silence, the stillness around them amplifying the significance of what lay ahead. They didn't know for certain where the archives were hidden, but Liliana had an idea.

Temples like this, she reasoned, followed certain patterns. Sacred knowledge would always be stored in places of significance, places meant to be protected, revered. If the layout was anything like others she had studied, the archives would likely be deep within, hidden beyond layers of chambers meant to dissuade intruders or unworthy seekers.

"If the archives are here, they'll most likely be at the heart of the temple," Liliana said. "Perhaps somewhere fortified. Maybe behind some kind of ward or barrier."

Rika nodded. "Lead the way."

Liliana gave a faint smile but said nothing, her mind already turning over possibilities. As they turned down the next corridor, her pace quickened, scanning the walls and doorways for signs—subtle carvings, a change in the air, anything that might hint at where the archives were concealed. Her confidence wasn't absolute, but it was enough to keep them moving. And right now, that was what mattered.

When they reached a large, unassuming doorway at the end of the corridor, Liliana stopped to examine it. Her fingers brushed lightly over the edges, searching for any sign of wards, runes, or traps that might guard what lay beyond.

She frowned, finding nothing. No resistance, no hum of latent magic. "Strange," she said, taking a step back to study the doorway more carefully.

"What's strange?" Rika asked, her hammer already half-raised, ready for trouble.

"There don't seem to be any wards," Liliana said, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "No traps, no protections. It's like… Perhaps Serassa thought no one unworthy would ever be able to find the temple. Or if they did, she believed she'd be here to stop them."

Rika shrugged. "If that was the plan… it didn't work out too well for her."

"Hmm," Liliana said as she placed her hand against the door and pushed gently. It swung open without resistance, revealing the chamber beyond.

"Still," Liliana said, stepping inside and looking around, "I'd rather not assume there's nothing waiting for us."

Rika also stepped inside. "Doesn't look like there's anything waiting for us here."

The Archivist followed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he took in the tomes and relics, though he kept his hands folded, careful not to touch anything uninvited. Rika's eyes lingered on him, her guard up, ready to intervene if his curiosity strayed too far.

Liliana gestured toward the shelves. "Here we are."

The Archivist stepped forward and raised his hands, fingers splayed as he began to cast a spell, each motion precise and controlled. The air around him shimmered, and hundreds of small, silent bells appeared, floating like a constellation of secrets waiting to be unlocked.

The bells hovered, their polished surfaces catching fragments of light that refracted through the chamber, casting faint reflections across the walls. Then, as if drawn by an unseen magnet, each bell drifted purposefully toward a book or scroll on the shelves, aligning itself with the knowledge it was meant to extract. One by one, tomes and parchments lifted from their places, their pages fluttering open.

With a hum, the Archivist's bells synchronized with the flipping of pages, each bell aligning with the unique rhythm of its chosen book. It was a symphony of silent motion, the faint rustling of ancient parchment blending seamlessly with the energy emanating from the Archivist. The books and scrolls revealed their contents, secrets surrendering in the quiet glow of the Archivist's spell. Liliana and Rika watched in captivated silence.

As the spell reached its crescendo, the books closed with a gentle snap, their knowledge sealed once more. They floated back into place with a quiet dignity, like souls returning to rest. The bells, satisfied with their purpose, drifted back to the Archivist, dissolving soundlessly into his outstretched hands until the last one vanished.

The Archivist lowered hs arms, a calm satisfaction in his eyes. He looked back at them, giving a slight, courteous nod. "Thank you. We are done here."

Rika raised an eyebrow. "Did you just read all those ancient scrolls in, like… ten seconds?"

The Archivist smiled. "Well, it's not reading exactly, but yes, I now possess their knowledge."

"Think you could teach me that trick?"

"I'm afraid not, my earthborn friend," he replied, "this skill is something inherent to my kind, and my kind alone."

"Figures," Rika said. "But if we're done here, let's go find Kale."

As they made their way back through the corridors of the temple, Rika, Liliana, and the Archivist stepped into the main hall. There, they found Kale kneeling beside Serassa's now-wrapped form, his hands resting gently on the shroud. His head was bowed slightly, as if in quiet reflection, but at the sound of their footsteps, he looked up, his expression solemn.

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