After a full day poring over countless brittle book, our efforts yielded nothing beyond the scant facts we’d already unearthed. A familiar weariness, sharp with disappointment, settled over me; I had truly pinned my hopes on a breakthrough within these hallowed, dusty walls.

As Adrix and I finally pushed open the tower’s colossal, rune-etched wooden doors, the world outside rushed in. The sudden, sweet perfume of wild lavender and sun-warmed grass was a balm. Sunlight, fierce and bright, struck my face, making me squint against its brilliance. It’s truly beautiful here, I thought, the verdant landscape a stark contrast to the sterile tower. The thought was fleeting, chased away by a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of our failure.

“What is it?” Adrix asked, his voice a low rumble beside me, unexpectedly gentle.

“It’s just… I don’t feel like anything we found will truly help,” I admitted, the words tasting like ash. The fruitless search felt like a stone in my gut.

Adrix offered a small, reassuring smile, though his eyes held a shadow of our shared frustration. “That’s okay, Lyra. We all knew it was a long shot. The mages’ tower is sacred, beyond even royal reach, but that doesn’t mean its keepers hoarded every answer, especially for secrets deliberately buried. Some knowledge, it seems, resists discovery.”

“That’s true,” I replied, a sliver of understanding piercing my gloom. “I just… I desperately want to help everyone, to understand what’s happening to Tirilla, to us.”

“You’ll get your answers,” he said with a quiet certainty that settled something restless within me. His gaze, direct and unwavering, held mine. “Noctis is already working on the next step.”

A soft breeze whispered past, stirring Adrix’s black hair. It shimmered like spun obsidian in the sunlight. He really is handsome, the thought ambushed me, sudden and startlingly warm. “I trust what you say,” I managed, my voice a little breathless. But this… this sudden flutter in my chest, what is this?

A subtle smile touched his lips, and his violet eyes, usually so guarded, held a warmth he seemed to be consciously offering. He shifted, closing the small space between us, and suddenly he was right there. I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “It’ll be okay, Lyra. Seriously.” His hand lifted, moving with a deliberate slowness that stretched time taut. Each inch it traveled was a lifetime of held breath. When his fingers, surprisingly warm, brushed my cheek, a jolt – sharp and electric – shot through me. My breath caught, and my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What is happening? I should pull away… I should… But my feet felt rooted to the earth.

His thumb traced a light path along my cheekbone. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration that hummed through me. His eyes never left mine. A stray strand of my hair danced across my cheek, and his fingers, warm and sure, delicately followed its path before tucking it behind my ear. As his hand retreated, my skin tingled, an echo of his touch lingering like a brand. We stood suspended in a moment of charged silence. “Sorry,” he said then, stepping back abruptly. His own breath seemed to catch, and was that a flush rising on his cheekbones? “I was just… your hair. Figured it would be uncomfortable.” He turned away quickly, his profile stark against the bright sky. “We, uh, need to get going. Finnian needs these books.” My heart, however, was still a wild drum.

“Right,” I said, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. A fresh wave of hyper-awareness washed over me. Except now I have to hold his hand to get through the portal. I took a silent, steadying breath. Push this feeling aside. Focus. Answers. That’s what matters.

He stood closer again, the scent of him – leather, old books, and something uniquely Adrix – filling my senses. He said nothing, simply raised a hand, and mana swirled, flickering into a shimmering, iridescent gateway. Just grab his hand. It’s no big deal, I lectured myself, though my pulse disagreed. I reached out, my fingers brushing his, then closing around his hand. It was strong, warm. His gaze met mine for a heartbeat, intense and unreadable, before he pulled me through.

The world dissolved into a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light, a rush of wind and sensation. Then, just as suddenly, we stood on the familiar, plush carpet of Noctis’s library. I reluctantly released his hand, the phantom warmth already fading, leaving a strange ache. “Thanks again for helping me,” he said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. A flicker of something – reluctance? – crossed his face before it smoothed over. “I better give these books to Finnian.” Maybe I’m not the only one who felt that moment, a reckless, hopeful thought dared to surface. No, focus! We need answers, I reminded myself sternly. I watched him stride away, a curious knot of longing tightening in my chest, and sank into the nearest velvet armchair. My mind was a jumbled, chaotic mess. Burying my face in my hands, I groaned. “Ugh.”

Silence, heavy and profound, filled the vast library. I took a deep breath, trying to corral my scattered thoughts. Everyone will be here soon. Noctis’s plan… it has to give us something.

The distant sound of voices and footsteps echoed from the hallway, growing louder. The heavy oak doors slowly creaked open, and Liora swept in, a vibrant splash of color against the library’s somber tones.

“Hey! How was the trip to the mages tower?” she asked, a huge, irrepressibly cheerful smile lighting up her face.

My cheeks warmed instantly. I pressed a hand against one, as if that could cool the betraying flush. “It was… fine,” I mumbled, knowing my voice lacked all conviction.

Liora’s perceptive gaze narrowed. “Clearly something happened,” she stated, a knowing, mischievous glint in her eyes. “My intuition strikes again, it seems.” She pulled out the chair next to mine and settled in, propping her chin on her hands, her expression alight with expectation. “So? Are you going to spill, or do I have to resort to teasing it out of you?”

“We just looked at books,” I insisted, striving for an air of nonchalance that felt utterly false. “Nothing exciting. Seriously.”

Liora raised her eyebrow. “If it was that unexciting, why are you currently radiating heat like a furnace and blushing to the roots of your hair?” she teased, her grin widening.

“I suppose there was a… slightly awkward moment before we returned,” I conceded with a sigh, trying to sound dismissive. “It’s nothing worth making a big deal out of.”

“Hmmmm, alright,” she replied, drawing out the sound. “I’ll accept that… for now.” Relief washed over me; I wasn’t ready to dissect that moment with Adrix, not even with Liora.

“Anything exciting happen while we were away?” I asked, desperate to steer the conversation onto safer ground.

“Well, nothing too crazy,” Liora replied, a soft, reminiscent smile gracing her lips. “Though Finn and I did get to enjoy the gardens again while he pored over his research. It was quite peaceful, actually. He even read me a few particularly dry passages on history. Thrilling stuff.”

“That sounds… character-building,” I said, managing a small smile. The image of quiet companionship was oddly comforting. “Do you have any idea what Noctis has planned for us next?”

Liora shrugged, her playful smile returning. “Honestly? Not a clue. Keeps us all on our toes, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t want us getting complacent.”

“That’s certainly true,” I said, nodding.

We continued our easy banter for a while, Liora’s lightheartedness helping to soothe my jangled nerves. Soon after, the library doors opened again, this time admitting Adrix and Noctis. Noctis, with his usual air of quiet authority, took the seat at the head of the large table, his presence immediately commanding the room. Adrix settled into the chair to his right, his expression composed, though I studiously avoided his gaze.

“Alright,” Noctis began, his sharp gaze sweeping over us. “Finnian is currently lost in the labyrinth of those mage tower texts, so he won’t be joining us just yet. I did, however, fill him in on our next step. I’ll need another few days to finalize arrangements.” He paused, and his tone took on a sharper, more serious edge.

“First things first… we’re going to Tirilla.”

Tirilla. The name hit me like a physical blow, a shard of ice lodging in my chest. It wasn’t exactly a place I ever planned on revisiting, especially not so soon. My breath hitched.

“We need intelligence from the capital, and infiltrating it ourselves is the only viable way. Their information control is absolute,” Noctis continued, his voice firm.

“So,” Liora interjected, tilting her head, a curious glint in her eyes, “have you ever actually been to the capital, Noctis? You seem to know a lot about a place you avoid.”

A brief, almost imperceptible pause. “No… no, I haven’t,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “And before you ask, Liora, let’s just say I have my ways of… acquiring information.” He refocused, his tone becoming all business. “Right. To make this work, each of you will be playing a role. You’ll be members of my household staff.” He looked directly at Adrix. “You’ll be my personal butler.”

Adrix inclined his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “A pleasure, Your Grace. I’ve always aspired to such refined servitude.”

Noctis let out a short, dry laugh. “Glad to hear it. Try not to spill any wine on important documents, Adrix.” He paused before turning his attention. “Naturally, Liora,” his gaze settled on her, “you’ll be my personal physician. However, you need to be exceptionally careful; absolutely no public displays of your healing abilities.”

Liora’s brows furrowed. “I’ll keep that in mind. But… why the extreme secrecy?”

Noctis’s amusement vanished, his tone turning grim. “The capital operates under a brutal, unforgiving system. Those with healing talents are considered… valuable commodities. They are hunted, captured, and forced into a life of indentured servitude, or worse. You must never reveal your abilities there.”

Liora’s eyes widened, the color draining slightly from her face. She nodded slowly, the gravity of his words sinking in. “…Okay… Noted. No healing in public. Understood.”

“And Lyra,” Noctis said, his gaze turning to me, “you’ll be my maid.”

I nodded, a strange mixture of apprehension and a grim sort of anticipation swirling within me. A maid. It was a role, a disguise.

“Lastly, Finnian, as he’s aware, will act as my research assistant and secretary.”

“How long is the journey from here to the Tirilla?” Liora asked, her earlier playful demeanor now tinged with a sober concern.

“About five days by carriage,” Noctis replied. “Perhaps a touch less if the roads are clear and we press on.”

“Hmm, five days,” she mused, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin. “Not too bad, all things considered.”

“Agreed,” Noctis said. “We’ll stick to the main roads, so it should be relatively straightforward.”

“I’m just hoping we don’t run into any… overly enthusiastic wildlife along the way,” Liora added, a slight grimace flickering across her face.

“Prudence is always wise,” Noctis conceded. “We’ll remain vigilant.”

“How much longer do you estimate you’ll need to get everything ready on your end?” Adrix asked.

“Another three days, give or take,” Noctis replied. “I think it’s best if we all remain here until then. If Finnian unearths anything of immediate relevance, we can convene.”

“Sounds sensible,” Adrix affirmed.

“Could Lyra perhaps have the room next to mine?” Liora asked suddenly, a warm, reassuring smile directed at me. “Company, you know?”

“Yes, that will work fine,” Noctis agreed with a nod. “I’ll have the staff see to the room preparations immediately.”

“Lyra, if you’d like…” Liora began, but her words were abruptly cut short.

The heavy library doors burst inward with a tremendous, splintering crash. Dust motes exploded into the air, dancing in the sudden shaft of light from the hallway. I flinched, my heart leaping into my throat. Who would use such force?

Finnian stood framed in the doorway, his chest heaving, his usually immaculate clothes disheveled. His eyes were wide, his face pale, and his typically composed demeanor had shattered into a frantic energy.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that entrance,” I murmured, my surprise echoing Liora’s stunned expression.

“I thought you weren’t joining us,” Liora said, her voice a mixture of shock and concern, her gaze locked on him.

“I wasn’t,” Finnian gasped, clutching a thick, ancient-looking leather-bound book to his chest as if it were a lifeline. “But I think… I think I found something. Something… important. Or at least… incredibly disturbing.”

“Take a breath, Finnian,” Noctis said, his voice calm but firm, his gaze steady on the distraught scholar. “And why don’t you have a—”

But Finnian, seemingly oblivious, strode forward and placed the heavy book on the center of the table with a resounding thud that echoed in the sudden, expectant silence. He remained standing, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the table. “I can’t sit right now,” he gasped, his eyes darting between us, alight with a strange, almost manic mix of excitement and dread.

“I found… information on dark magic,” he finally managed to say, the words hanging heavy in the air.

My jaw dropped. I’d dismissed the mage tower books so thoroughly. None of us moved, every ounce of our attention riveted on Finnian, a palpable tension filling the room.

He fumbled with the brittle pages, his fingers trembling slightly, until he found a slip of yellowed parchment tucked within. His index finger rested on a specific passage, and he began to read, his voice raspy but clear. “‘Dark magic is a shadow far deeper and more insidious than common understanding perceives. I have stumbled upon knowledge that has undoubtedly placed my life in mortal peril. The kingdom of Azdreamien…'” Finnian paused, his gaze sweeping over our stunned faces. “This is an exceptionally old kingdom. It would date back well over a thousand years.” He cleared his throat, his attention snapping back to the page. “‘Azdreamien, in its pursuit of power, conducted horrific studies on individuals possessing exceptionally large mana core capacities. They would take them captive… and systematically drain them of their mana.'”

Adrix shot halfway out of his seat, his face a mask of disbelief and horror. “That can’t be possible! That’s… that’s monstrous! Taking mana from people?”

Noctis pinned Adrix with a sharp, silencing look. “Control yourself, Adrix. Continue, Finnian.”

“As I was saying,” Finnian resumed, his voice still slightly breathless but gaining strength, “they would then harness this stolen mana for their own purposes. Even if the practitioners lacked the innate capacity to hold such vast reserves, the stolen mana somehow… integrated, or perhaps corrupted, their own, allowing them to wield power far beyond their natural limits. However, it came with devastating side effects. Those who engaged in this dark practice often found their lifespans drastically shortened, their bodies consumed from within, and their minds slowly, inexorably unraveling into madness.'”

A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon us. Each of us seemed lost in our own horrified thoughts, the weight of Finnian’s revelation pressing down like a physical burden. Adrix finally broke the stillness, his brow deeply furrowed. “That amulet… the one Kaelen had… it radiated an incredibly potent dark magic. Unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Is it possible… is it possible someone is attempting this nightmare again?”

“But who would even dream of such a thing?” Liora whispered, her voice laced with disbelief and revulsion. “I mean, yes, we encountered that Kaelen brute, but he seemed more like a pawn than a mastermind.”

“He wasn’t the wielder of that specific dark magic,” Adrix added, his gaze distant and thoughtful. “It would have irrevocably tainted his own mana signature, and I didn’t sense that level of corruption on him.” He then looked directly at me, his violet eyes filled with a mixture of plea and gentle sympathy, a silent gesture urging me to speak.

I took a shaky breath, the air catching in my throat. I knew, with a sickening certainty, what Adrix wanted me to share – the secret I had only revealed to him on that one night. The weight of every gaze in the room suddenly fixed on me, expectant, questioning.

Noctis’s voice, when he finally spoke, was surprisingly gentle, laced with a quiet understanding. “Is there something you’d like to add, Lyra?”

I can trust them, I told myself, the words a fragile shield against the familiar tide of fear and vulnerability. They need to know. All of it. I took another deep breath, and the words began to tumble out, a torrent of memories I had fought for so long to suppress. I recounted my life in Tirilla – the creeping dread. I spoke of the horrifying events that transpired on that fateful night: the chilling, predatory grace of the assassin, my desperate, terrified flight, and the long, lonely years spent on the run, forever looking over my shoulder, the phantom touch of fear a constant companion.

“So,” I concluded, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady, “I believe the king… King Zylairs… is the one behind all of this. He’s clearly targeting those with rare talents, collecting them. Though I can’t say for certain what he’s doing with them… only what I overheard before I managed to escape.” The fragmented whispers, the hushed, terrified conversations – they painted a grim, nightmarish picture.

Noctis’s jaw was tight, his gaze intense, burning with a cold fire. “Thank you for sharing this with us, Lyra. It takes courage.” His voice was firm with conviction. “This confirms my deepest suspicions. All the more reason for us to go to the capital.”

“So,” Liora said, her voice regaining some of its earlier strength, though now underscored with a steely seriousness, “we’re really doing this then? Walking straight into the lion’s den, into the heart of the chaos.”

Noctis nodded, his expression resolute. “Yes, we are. We all recognize there’s no other viable choice. We need to protect our people, all people, from what horrors might be unleashed next.”

His words resonated with an undeniable weight of responsibility. The potential atrocities Finnian had unearthed, combined with my own fragmented, traumatic memories of Tirilla’s pervasive oppression, painted a horrifying vista of what might be unfolding. The thought of innocent lives being consumed by such insidious dark practices fueled a burning urgency within me, eclipsing, for a moment, my own deep-seated fears.

Liora nodded slowly, her initial hesitation replaced by a grim but steadfast resolve. “Right. Into the chaos it is.”

Adrix, who had been silent, absorbing everything, finally spoke, his voice low and serious. “We need to be meticulous. Every step must be calculated. One wrong move, one moment of carelessness, could have dire, irreversible consequences for us all.”

“Agreed,” Noctis affirmed, his gaze sharp and encompassing. “We’ll need to adhere strictly to our roles, remain hyper-observant, and trust each other implicitly. There is no room for error.” He looked at each of us in turn, his eyes conveying the profound gravity of the situation. “The journey itself will be fraught with risk, and once we’re inside the capital, we’ll be walking on edge. But the potential cost of inaction is far, far greater.”