I stepped out of the manor and only then realized how tightly I'd been holding my breath.
The door closed softly behind me. I leaned my back against it without thinking, the cool surface pressing through my clothes, grounding me. My eyes closed on their own, and for a moment I just stood there, letting the early morning air wash over me.
I didn't understand why it had affected me so much.
I had killed someone hours ago. A human. My first. Fifteen deaths stitched together just to survive long enough to end another life. That should have been the thing that stayed with me. The weight of it. The horror. The blood.
But it wasn't.
What kept replaying in my head was Madison's wrist. The thin line of red trailing down her skin. The way she hadn't even noticed it.
That enraged me.
The realization itself made me uneasy. I didn't know her. Not really. She was an enigma I barely understood, someone who existed on a level far above me. It wasn't my place to feel anything that intense about her. And yet, the image of her bleeding, even so slightly, made something ugly twist in my chest.
That blood shouldn't have been there.
The thought came unbidden, irrational and absolute. It wasn't something I could explain or justify, and that made it worse. I pressed my head back against the door and forced myself to breathe slowly.
Rationally, there were explanations. Aetherfall had already warped my sense of normal. Death, repetition, violence, power beyond logic. Maybe my reactions were fraying. Maybe the warmth of blood on my hands earlier was still messing with my head, dragging emotions where they didn't belong.
That had to be it.
I opened my eyes and pushed away from the door.
The manor grounds were already awake. Staff moved with purpose, carts being loaded, voices low but steady. Despite the early hour, the place hummed with quiet activity, as if it never truly slept.
I headed toward the gate and spotted Owen near one of the larger carts, speaking with a staff member while overseeing a delivery. Crates were stacked neatly, marked with symbols I didn't recognize. Whatever it was, it looked important.
Owen noticed me almost immediately.
"Hey," he said, turning fully toward me. "You looking better."
"I am," I replied. And it was mostly true. "Thanks for last night."
He waved it off easily. "It's normal. You seem… off, though. Something happen?"
"No," I said a little too quickly. Then, after a pause, I added, "I just… forgot to say thank you. To Madison."
Owen smiled, not surprised. "Don't worry about that. She doesn't count those things."
I glanced at him. "She doesn't?"
"Nope," he said, adjusting his gloves. "She looks after people she considers hers. That's just how she is. You being around us, working with us, that already puts you under her wing. Whether you asked for it or not."
Under her wing.
The phrase sat strangely with me.
"So I'm part of… what, her group?" I asked.
Owen chuckled. "Something like that. Flock might be the better word. But of course it's not like you're being controlled or anything. You are your own, just don't act like stranger."
"Of course I won't," I readily replied. Then added, "I'm heading back, I should check in with someone."
"You'll be fine?" Owen asked. "You know the way?"
"I do," I answered. "Thanks. For everything."
He gave me a brief nod, then turned back to the cart as I walked away.
The streets leading back toward the inn were quieter now, the capital still shaking itself awake. Vendors were setting up stalls. Guards rotated shifts with practiced ease. My mind drifted despite myself, replaying fragments of the morning I wanted to forget.
By the time I reached the inn, my head felt heavier than when I'd left.
Astrae was waiting outside my door.
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, posture relaxed but alert. When she saw me, her gaze swept over me quickly, assessing.
"You look okay," she said.
I nodded, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. She followed without hesitation, closing it behind her.
The room was just as I'd left it. Simple. Clean. Familiar in a way few places were anymore. I sat down on the edge of the bed, the weight of exhaustion settling into my bones now that I'd stopped moving.
"I felt it when you left last night," Astrae said quietly. "I didn't follow."
I looked up at her.
"Privacy matters," she added. "I sensed danger, but before I could act, it was already over."
She paused, studying me. "How many times?"
"Fifteen," I said.
She nodded slowly, as if committing the number to memory.
"After that," she continued, "I felt you with someone. And then suddenly… nothing. It was like you vanished."
I rubbed my hands together, staring at the floor. "I spent a few hours with people I traveled with before Hearthroot. From my world."
Her eyes sharpened. "They have something that hides their presence. Completely. Even from me."
I glanced at her, then away again. "They're fine. Don't think too much about it."
"That kind of concealment isn't normal," Astrae said. "Even the palace doesn't have wards that thorough."
I frowned. "Let it go."
She didn't look convinced. "People who can disappear like that are dangerous."
"Good," I said more sharply than I intended. "Then maybe she'll stay safe like that."
She blinked. "She?"
I didn't answer.
The silence stretched, taut.
Finally, I exhaled and forced myself to change the subject before it turned into something else. "I'm going to register with the capital's Archivist guild."
Astrae tilted her head. "Why?"
"It gives me cover," I said. "Legitimacy, protection. And most importantly an access. If there's anything we're looking for, it's more likely to be buried in records than out in the open."
She considered that, then nodded once. "That makes sense."
I leaned back slightly, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts were still tangled, emotions refusing to settle where they belonged.
"I need stability," I added quietly. "Even if it's temporary."
Astrae didn't argue.
And for the first time since leaving the manor, the tension in my chest eased just a little.
~~~
After preparing as much as I reasonably could, I headed for the Archivists' Guild.
Astrae walked with me as far as the main avenue, the early bustle of the capital already in full swing around us. Merchants were setting up displays, Wayfarers passed in small groups, and messengers cut through the crowd with practiced urgency. Compared to Hearthroot, everything here moved faster, louder, and with far less patience.
"I'll look around," Astrae said casually as we slowed near the guild district. "The palace isn't going to map itself out."
I stopped walking.
She took one more step before realizing I wasn't beside her anymore. When she turned back, I was already frowning.
"That's dangerous," I said. "You know it is and we don't need that much attention right now. They maybe checking on us or you specifically. You're someone who just appear out of nowhere from the site, and I am sure there are people in the palace who are smart enough to connect dots."
She smiled, faint and unconcerned. "Right now, there's no one in this city who can put me down."
"That's a bold assumption," I replied. "What if one of your kind is here?"
She shrugged lightly. "Then they won't care. Unless their favored mortal ask for their help, they won't move a finger."
The way she said it wasn't arrogance. It was certainty, flat and unembellished. As if the idea itself didn't deserve more thought than that.
I hesitated, weighing every reason I had to argue further. The capital was full of unknowns. Political pressure. Hidden factions. People who specialized in sealing, suppressing, and controlling things that didn't fit.
Including gods.
Still, Astrae had already made up her mind.
"Don't do anything reckless," I said finally.
She tilted her head. "I won't. I'm not here to make noise. I'm here to retrieve what's mine."
I didn't like how simple she made it sound, but I nodded anyway.
"Meet back here by evening," I said.
She turned and melted into the crowd without another word, her presence fading so cleanly it was unsettling. One moment she was there, the next she was just another shape swallowed by the capital.
I stood there for a second longer than necessary, then forced myself to move.
The Archivists' Guild hall was impossible to miss.
It rose above the surrounding buildings like a statement, broad and deliberate, its outer walls carved with layers of sigils that shifted subtly when viewed from different angles. Unlike temples or palaces, it wasn't meant to inspire awe or fear. It radiated stability. Permanence. The promise that no matter how chaotic the world became, someone here would be recording it.
Inside, the noise of the city dulled to a low murmur. The air smelled faintly of old paper, ink, and something mineral I couldn't place. Clerks moved between desks with practiced efficiency, their movements quick but never rushed.
I approached the registration counter and gave my name.
The woman behind the desk glanced up, then down at her slate. "Purpose?"
"Registration," I said. " For archivist."
She nodded and slid a small token across the counter. "Your assessment is required."
I felt my shoulders tense. "Is it mandatory?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "All guild-affiliated Archivists must be assessed before access is granted."
I considered pushing back, but I already knew how that would go. The capital didn't bend rules for convenience, especially not for outsiders.
"Okay," I said. "Where should I go?"
She gestured toward a side corridor. "Room seven. An assessor will see you shortly."
Room seven turned out to be smaller than I expected. No elaborate tools. No crystal arrays. Just a desk, two chairs, and a man waiting with a neutral expression.
He introduced himself, asked me to sit, and began the assessment without ceremony.
At first, everything felt routine. I could sense his focus brushing against my status, probing carefully, methodically. His expression remained professional, unreadable.
Then his brow creased.
He leaned closer, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to confirm something he didn't like the look of.
I stayed still.
Minutes passed.
He tried again, this time slower, more deliberate.
His hand paused mid-air.
"Well…" he muttered.
I looked up. "That bad?"
"It's not bad," he said slowly. "It's… unusual."
He straightened and met my gaze. "Your system is locked."
I frowned. "Locked how?"
"Partially inaccessible. Stat growth restricted. Several layers of restriction I can't bypass." He hesitated, then added, "And you've been assessed before."
That caught my attention. "I was."
"Yes," he said. "By someone with very high standing."
I kept my face neutral, but my thoughts raced. Elder Caelum. There was no doubt about that.
"So what now?" I asked.
He closed his slate and stood. "You'll need to see the Chief Assessor."
I blinked. "The capital's?"
He nodded. "Only assessors of sufficiently high standing can work around restrictions like yours. I'm not authorized to proceed further."
I let out a slow breath. "And I don't have a choice?"
"Unfortunately, no," he said calmly. "You don't."
He stepped aside and gestured toward the door. "You can make an appointment at the front desk. They'll guide you from there."
I stood and thanked him, though my mind was already elsewhere.
As I left the room, one thought settled firmly in place.
Whatever path I was on now, it had already attracted attention far above my weight.
And I had the feeling it wouldn't let me move quietly for much longer.