[Third POV: Caedryn]
Caedryn did not rush traps.
That was the first mistake amateurs made. They mistook urgency for intelligence, speed for control. Gods did not fall to haste. Neither did those who walked too close to them.
He stood alone in the inner gallery of his residence, fingers resting lightly on the edge of a stone table carved with containment arrays so old that even the palace records listed them as "pre-Founding acquisitions." The room was quiet in the way only deep places were quiet. No echoes. No drafts. No servants nearby.
Everything here had been chosen because it did not speak unless commanded to.
Before him lay three items, arranged with care.
The first was a narrow band of dull silver etched with radial symbols, thin enough to pass for jewelry to an untrained eye. It was not a shackle. Shackles were crude. This was a Harmonization Circlet, designed to force alignment between a divine frequency and a mortal baseline. It did not suppress power directly. It misaligned it, making every attempt to draw on strength cost more than it should.
The second was a vial of clear liquid that refracted light strangely, as if the air inside it bent. Null Aether Suspension. Rare and highly expensive. Difficult to handle. When vaporized, it created a temporary field where divine manifestations lost coherence. Not sealed or erased. Just… heavy.
The third was the most dangerous.
A fragment of black stone mounted into a palm-sized disc. It pulsed faintly, irregularly, like a heartbeat out of sync with the world. A Binding Anchor, incomplete and unstable. It could not imprison a god.
But it could make one hesitate.
Caedryn did not know what kind of god she was.
He did not know her rank. He did not know her domain. He did not even know if she was whole.
But he knew this much.
She was moving.
Not loudly. Not carelessly. But movement left traces, and traces accumulated into patterns. A young girl appearing at a sealed site. Passing through wards that should have at least flickered. Lingering near palace structures without triggering alarms.
Overconfidence.
That was the second mistake gods made when they walked among mortals.
Caedryn closed the lid of the containment table and turned away. Today was not about catching her.
It was about confirming her.
And for that, he needed bait.
——
Theo Finley arrived at the palace under escort just past midday.
Caedryn observed him from the upper balcony as the archivist crossed the outer courtyard. Average build. Controlled posture. Eyes that missed very little, despite the way his shoulders carried tension like an old habit.
Not a fighter.
But not helpless either.
Interesting.
Caedryn descended at an unhurried pace, timing his arrival so that Theo would see him only after adjusting to the scale of the palace. Disorientation softened people. It made them honest.
"Archivist Finley," Caedryn said warmly. "I'm glad you accepted the invitation."
Theo bowed, not deeply, but respectfully. "I wasn't aware declining was an option."
Caedryn smiled. "It usually isn't. But I prefer people think it is."
They began walking.
The corridors here were wide and high-ceilinged, designed less for comfort than for reminding visitors where they stood in the hierarchy. Marble floors inlaid with sigils that glowed faintly beneath the surface. Guards posted at intervals that appeared ceremonial but were anything but.
Halfway down the eastern passage, footsteps approached from the opposite direction.
Prince Valeyn Solcarth.
Caedryn felt the shift immediately. Valeyn's presence was subtle but sharp, like a blade kept hidden until the last moment. The youngest heir moved with practiced calm, eyes scanning the scene without appearing to.
"Prefect," Valeyn said, inclining his head politely. His gaze flicked to Theo, then away just as smoothly.
"Your Highness," Caedryn replied. "I was just escorting our guest, Theo Finley, crosser from R000890."
Valeyn's smile was faint. "The archivist from Hearthroot. I've heard your name mentioned recently."
Theo inclined his head again. "I didn't expect it to travel that far, it's an honor to meet you Your Highness."
Valeyn's eyes lingered on him for half a second longer than necessary.
"I'd like to join you," Valeyn said casually. "If you don't mind. I wanted to hear things from Archivist Finley."
Caedryn did mind.
And that, more than the request itself, told him everything.
"I'm afraid this is a private consultation Your Highness," Caedryn replied without sharpness. "Administrative matters. Boring ones."
Valeyn's expression did not change, but something tightened behind his eyes.
"I see," he said. Then, turning slightly toward Theo, he added quietly, "If you have time later, Archivist Finley, I'd appreciate a word."
Theo hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. "Of course."
Caedryn noted that too.
Valeyn stepped aside, watching them pass with an expression that was carefully neutral and not entirely convincing. As Caedryn and Theo continued down the corridor, Caedryn felt the prince's attention linger like pressure between the shoulders.
It's an unwelcome attentiveness from the Prince.
____
Caedryn did not rush.
He never did.
The private receiving room was quiet in the way only palace rooms could be quiet. Thick walls, layered wards, a muted hush that swallowed sound instead of echoing it. Light filtered in through high windows, softened by enchanted glass that kept the outside world distant and indistinct.
Theo Finley stood near the center of the room, hands relaxed at his sides, posture polite but guarded. He was doing what most people did in front of someone like Caedryn. Waiting. Watching. Trying to understand what kind of danger they were standing in.
Caedryn smiled mildly and gestured toward a chair.
"Sit," he said. It's a warm invitation, no hint of order on his tone.
Theo hesitated only a second before doing so.
"Tea?" Caedryn asked.
"I'm fine," Theo replied.
"Suit yourself then."
Caedryn poured anyway, more out of habit than need. He took his time with it. The pause was deliberate. Silence had weight, and Caedryn knew how to let it settle without becoming uncomfortable.
"So," he said at last, sitting across from Theo, "you're from another realm, a crosser."
Theo nodded. "Yes."
"What was it like?" Caedryn asked, tone casual, almost bored. "Your world, I mean."
Theo blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "It's normal. Busy and loud. A lot of people and a lot of rules."
Caedryn chuckled softly. "Sounds exhausting. I cannot imagine living there."
"It was indeed exhausting," Theo said simply.
Caedryn nodded as if that answered something important. He asked a few more questions after that. Small ones. Harmless ones.
Did people still fight wars in Theo's world?
"Yes."
Did gods walk openly there?
"No."
Did people believe in fate?
"Some did."
Theo answered every question plainly, without embellishment, without curiosity in return. He didn't try to impress. He didn't try to hide either. He just… answered.
Caedryn liked that.
Or at least, he found it useful.
"You've adjusted well," Caedryn said after a while. "Most Crossers struggle more."
Theo shrugged. "I don't know if I've adjusted. I'm just… here."
"Hm." Caedryn sipped his tea. "That might be the same thing."
Another pause. Another stretch of quiet.
Then Caedryn stood.
"Walk with me," he said.
Theo rose and followed without protest.
They moved through a side corridor into an adjoining chamber lined with shelves and tables. Not the grand archive halls of Solcarth, but a private study space. Old records. Half-sorted relics. Items waiting for proper classification.
Caedryn gestured around them. "These arrived recently. Unremarkable at first glance. But appearances have been unreliable lately."
Theo frowned slightly. "You want me to look at them?"
"Yes."
Theo hesitated. "There are archivists here far more experienced than me."
Caedryn turned, meeting his gaze. His expression remained calm, almost friendly.
"And yet," he said, "none of them helped identify the divine remnants your work brought to light."
Theo stiffened, just a little.
"That wasn't just me," he said carefully.
"No," Caedryn agreed easily. "But you were present. And sometimes presence matters more than skill."
Theo looked unconvinced. "I don't see why…"
"There's no reason to refuse," Caedryn interrupted gently. Not sharply. Just enough to redirect the thought. "You're already registered with the capital guild. This is still archivist work. And I'll compensate you, of course."
Theo fell silent.
Caedryn watched the decision form behind his eyes. Caution. Calculation. Then acceptance.
"All right," Theo said. "I can take a look."
"Excellent."
Caedryn gestured to a table near the far wall where several sealed containers waited. He did not approach them himself. He stayed back, leaning against a shelf, arms loosely folded.
"Take your time," Caedryn said. "No rush."
That was the lie.
Theo moved to the table, carefully inspecting the first container. He worked the way Caedryn expected. Methodical. Quiet. Focused inward.
Caedryn began speaking again, voice light, conversational, as if they were merely passing time.
"Do you miss your world?" he asked.
Theo didn't look up. "Not really."
"No family left behind?"
Theo's hand paused for half a second. Then resumed.
"There's nothing for me there anymore."
Caedryn nodded as if that settled something. He asked a few more questions, each one seemingly idle. Food preferences. Weather. Music. Things that didn't matter.
Theo answered all of them the same way. Briefly. Honestly. Without curiosity.
And all the while, Caedryn waited.
Not on Theo.
On something else.
The wards beneath the palace were already set. The harmonization field was stable. The Null Aether Suspension was primed but dormant. The Binding Anchor rested where it needed to be, unseen, unfelt.
Everything was in place.
Caedryn watched Theo work and smiled faintly.
Not because he was confident.
But because patience, he had learned, was the sharpest tool of all.