[Third POV: Astrae]
The dining hall was already half full by the time Astrae arrived.
It was not called a restaurant in Solcarth, not formally. People referred to places like this as a hearthhouse or a table hall, depending on who you asked. A place meant for food, for noise, for shared space. This one sat on a corner street not far from where she and Theo were staying, familiar enough that the staff no longer looked twice when she entered alone.
The smell of cooked grain and spiced meat lingered warmly in the air. Low conversation rolled through the room like a tide, punctuated by laughter and the clink of cutlery. Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, catching on hanging glass charms that hummed softly with bound light.
Astrae took her usual seat near the wall.
She did not choose it for comfort. She chose it because it let her see the entire room.
A moment later, a server approached. The same one who often did when Theo was with her.
She was Aetheran, fully local, with fox-like eyes that curved upward at the corners and hair tied neatly behind her head. Her movements were practiced but not stiff. She wore the same uniform as the others, but it fit her better than most. She was, by mortal standards, noticeably attractive.
Astrae noticed things like that easily.
"Just you today?" the server asked, her tone light, eyes already flicking toward the empty chair across from Astrae.
"Yes," Astrae replied calmly. "He was called away."
"Oh." The disappointment was quick but unmistakable. "Work?"
"The palace," Astrae said, keeping her voice neutral and mild, exactly as an assistant should sound.
The server's brows lifted slightly. "That sounds important."
Astrae inclined her head. "It seemed so."
The server smiled anyway and took Astrae's order without comment. As she turned away, her gaze lingered just a moment longer than necessary on the empty seat.
Astrae watched her go.
It was not jealousy she felt. It was curiosity.
Theo Finley drew attention without trying. Astrae had noticed it long before they reached the capital. In the smaller towns along the road, it had been subtle. A pause in conversation. A second glance. Someone finding an excuse to stand closer. In Solcarth, it was more obvious.
Theo never noticed.
He walked with his eyes lowered more often than not, focused inward or on the ground ahead. When people spoke to him with interest, he answered politely and moved on. He never lingered. Never encouraged. Never recognized what was being offered.
Astrae found that strange.
By Aetherfall standards, Theo was decent looking. Balanced features, clear eyes. A look that sharpened and turns into something cold attractiveness when he paid attention.
And yet he treated it as irrelevant.
Her fingers curled lightly around her cup as she thought back to his words from earlier.
She.
The way he had said it. Not defensive. Not embarrassed. Just… careful. Almost caring. And with his being blind about the natural thing mortal find with opposite sex, it kind of attracts Astrae's curiosity.
Astrae shook her head slightly and dismissed the thought. It was not her concern. Deals were not built on curiosity like that. If Theo chose to speak about it, he would. If not, it changed nothing.
The server returned with her meal and placed it down gently.
"So," she said, hesitating just a beat, "will he be back later?"
"I don't know," Astrae answered truthfully.
The server smiled again, softer this time. "If you see him, tell him I missed him today."
Astrae paused, then nodded once. "I will."
The server walked away, clearly satisfied with that.
Astrae ate slowly, tasting the food more out of habit than hunger. As a goddess, even one reduced as she was, sustenance was a matter of routine rather than need. She finished, paid, and stood without lingering.
Outside, Solcarth unfolded in layers.
The capital was alive in a way Hearthroot never had been. Streets curved and overlapped, stacked with bridges and raised walkways. Banners fluttered from stone facades. Enchanted lights hovered above storefronts even in daylight, dimmed but present. Merchants called out their wares. Couriers wove through the crowds with practiced ease.
And beneath it all, power moved.
Astrae could feel it like a distant pressure against her skin. Wards woven into streets. Sigils anchored into buildings. Invisible structures meant to observe, to record, to react.
She was careful.
She kept her presence folded inward, her divinity compressed until it felt almost absent even to herself. What remained was a fragile-looking girl in plain robes, moving through the capital with unremarkable steps.
By mid-afternoon, she had looped through several districts without finding anything new.
Her wings were somewhere within the palace.
She could feel that much.
Not a direction or a distance. Just a sense of wrongness, like a missing limb echoing from behind layers of stone and authority.
It frustrated her.
Theo's warnings echoed faintly in her mind. Too early and very dangerous. She understood his reasoning. She simply did not agree with it. Half her strength was sealed away. Every step she took like this felt incomplete.
Still, she restrained herself.
For now.
She turned down a quieter street, one lined with administrative buildings and private residences rather than shops. The noise of the market faded behind her.
That was when someone addressed her.
"Excuse me."
Astrae stopped.
The man was dressed plainly but neatly, the kind of clothing worn by palace runners or clerks. Nothing about him stood out. His posture was respectful, his hands visible.
"Yes?" Astrae said.
"You are Archivist Finley's assistant, correct?" he asked.
She nodded without hesitation. That was the role she had already been placed into.
"He has requested your presence," the man continued. "At the palace."
Her attention sharpened immediately.
"When?" she asked.
"Now, if possible," he replied. "He seemed… pressed for time."
Astrae considered this for less than a second.
Theo was already in the palace. She knew that. Captain Edrin himself had relayed the summons earlier that morning. If Theo needed her assistance there, it made sense that someone would be sent.
She searched the man briefly, not with divine force, but with instinct.
Nothing stood out.
No hostility. No threat. No ward strong enough to register.
Her confidence smoothed over the faint hesitation that tried to surface.
"I understand," Astrae said. "Please lead the way."
He turned and began walking without waiting for further confirmation.
They moved through streets Astrae had not yet explored. The buildings grew more uniform, more controlled in their design. Less personality. More function. The presence of wards became denser, overlapping in careful layers.
Astrae noticed.
She simply did not interpret it as danger.
Her power, even restrained, still exceeded anything she had sensed within the city so far. Gods of her tier did not fall easily. Mortals did not trap her unless she allowed it.
And she had allowed nothing.
The palace walls rose ahead of them, pale stone reinforced with darker veins of embedded magic. The gates were not visible from this angle, but Astrae could feel the weight of the place pressing outward.
The man slowed slightly.
"Just ahead," he said.
Astrae nodded and followed.
As they passed beneath a shadowed archway, a brief chill ran across her skin. Subtle. Easy to ignore. She attributed it to the density of the wards.
She did not look back.
And somewhere deeper within the palace, unseen and unheard, mechanisms long prepared shifted quietly into readiness.
~~~
[ First Person POV: Theo ]
Something was wrong.
I had felt it for a while now, a creeping discomfort that refused to settle no matter how calm the conversation sounded on the surface. Caedryn sat across from me in his private receiving room, posture relaxed, expression mild, hands folded neatly as if we were two acquaintances killing time over meaningless work.
But it wasn't meaningless.
Not to me.
I shifted slightly in my chair, fingers resting against the edge of the table where another relic lay waiting for inspection. It was nothing special. At least, nothing that should require this much of my attention. A fragment of etched stone, partially eroded, its magical residue faint and disorganized. The kind of thing any competent archivist in Solcarth could have handled without calling me in.
And yet, here I was.
Caedryn had asked me to stay.
Not demanded. Not ordered. Just… insisted, politely, persistently, in a way that left little room to refuse without appearing rude or ungrateful.
"Take your time," he had said earlier, smiling faintly. "There's no rush."
That alone should have been reassuring.
Instead, it made my skin crawl.
I ran my fingers lightly over the relic's surface, letting my Archivist function map what little information remained. Dates blurred. Origin unclear. Nothing that connected to the desert site. Nothing that tied back to the feather. Nothing that justified keeping me here for hours.
Across from me, Caedryn watched without seeming to watch.
He asked questions. Harmless ones. About my impressions of the capital. About the differences between Solcarth and Hearthroot. About my world. I answered honestly but briefly, careful not to volunteer anything extra. Every question felt casual, but there was a pattern to them, one I couldn't quite outline.
Time stretched.
At some point, he had even suggested lunch.
"You must be hungry," he had said, gesturing toward the side chamber. "We can continue afterward."
That was when the discomfort sharpened into something closer to alarm.
I was very aware of who Caedryn was. Kingdom Prefect. Authority over divine containment and relic governance. A man whose word carried weight even among the royal heirs. Refusing him outright wasn't simple. But every instinct I had was telling me that staying longer was a mistake.
I wanted to leave.
Not tomorrow. Not after lunch. Now.
I finished my inspection and leaned back slightly. "This one doesn't seem connected to the site we discussed," I said. "If there's anything specific you're looking for, I might need more context."
Caedryn's lips curved just a little. "No, no. You're doing fine. I just thought a second opinion would be valuable."
There it was again.
Time-buying.
My chest felt tight, like something unseen was pressing against it from the inside. I told myself to breathe, to stay calm. Nothing had happened. Nothing overt, at least. But the longer I sat there, the stronger the urge to stand up and walk out became.
I was about to speak again when my vision flickered.
For a split second, the room dimmed.
Then my system interface forced itself open.
Not the usual translucent overlay. Not the calm, neutral display I was used to. This one flared into existence in sharp red, the text pulsing as if it were struggling to stay stable.
EMERGENCY NOTICE
REALM UNION SUMMONS
IMMEDIATE ATTENDANCE REQUIRED
My breath caught.
Realm Union?
I stared at the message, heart starting to pound. The Realm Union wasn't something that contacted people lightly. It was a cross-realm authority, an organization that existed above kingdoms, above local politics. They monitored Crossers, maintained inter-realm regulations, and acted as intermediaries between worlds.
And they were telling me to come now.
I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.
Part of me wanted to laugh at the timing. Another part wanted to curse. An emergency summons was serious. Ignoring it wasn't an option. But the fact that it arrived right now, when every nerve in my body was screaming to leave this place, made my stomach twist.
I looked up, about to explain, when the knock came.
A sharp, controlled sound against the chamber door.
Caedryn's assistant entered quietly, posture respectful. He glanced at me first, gave a small nod of acknowledgment, then leaned close to Caedryn and whispered something I couldn't hear.
I watched Caedryn's face carefully.
Nothing changed.
No flicker of surprise. No irritation. No tension. He simply listened, nodded once, and dismissed the assistant with a gesture.
Only after the door closed did he look back at me.
That was enough.
I stood.
"Prefect," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I just received an emergency summons from the Realm Union. I'll need to attend to it immediately."
Caedryn's expression softened, almost apologetic. "Of course. That's unfortunate timing, but these things can't be helped."
The ease with which he accepted it unsettled me even more.
"There's also… another matter that's come to my attention," he continued smoothly. "I'm afraid I won't be able to keep you any longer today."
That phrasing made it sound like he was releasing me.
I nodded anyway. "I understand. Thank you for your time and hospitality."
I hesitated, then added, "Prince Valeyn had asked to see me afterward. If possible, could you let him know about the emergency?"
Caedryn smiled. "I'll inform him personally. You shouldn't worry about that."
Something in my chest tightened again.
"Thank you," I said, even though a part of me wished he hadn't answered so quickly.
I gathered my things, hands moving a little faster than usual. Every second I stayed inside that room felt heavier than the last. As I turned to leave, the urge to look back nearly stopped me.
I didn't.
I bowed politely and walked out.
The palace corridors felt longer on the way out.
Too quiet. Too clean. Guards stood at their posts, faces neutral, eyes forward. No one stopped me. No one questioned me. That should have been reassuring.
It wasn't.
By the time I passed through the main gate, my palms were slick with sweat. The open air hit me like a release valve. I stopped just outside the threshold, leaning slightly forward as I took a slow breath.
Then another.
Only then did I realize how tense my body had been.
I turned my head and glanced back at the palace.
Just for a moment.
The walls stood tall and unchanged, sunlight catching on pale stone. From the outside, it looked exactly like what it was meant to be. Order. Authority. Stability.
My system flashed red again at the edge of my vision, the emergency notice pulsing insistently.
Realm Union.
I didn't know if the summons was a problem or a lifeline.
All I knew was that the feeling hadn't gone away.
If anything, it had grown stronger.
And somewhere deep inside, beneath the anxiety and confusion, a quiet certainty settled in.
Something bad was already in motion.
I just didn't know yet whether I had stepped away from it…
Or straight into something worse.