In the evening, Alaric stepped out of the academy, his legs trembling as he struggled to walk in a straight line.
"Is this hurting, Mr. Alaric?" Celine asked softly, concern threading her voice.
Alaric gave her a dramatic smile, though his tone was weak. "It's fine. There's nothing we can do about it now."
Celine nodded quietly, supporting him as they walked. "So… what did you get from there, Mr. Alaric?" she asked, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Alaric glanced at her, pretending confusion, tilting his head. "What do you mean?"
"You don't need to pretend," Celine said softly. "I can see that thing glowing inside your bag."
Alaric looked down at the soft blue glow emanating from the locket in his bag. "I retrieved it from that place beneath the academy's library," he said calmly.
Celine smiled, adjusting her pace to match his. "Then it must be special… otherwise, you wouldn't have taken it." She teased lightly.
Alaric's gaze drifted upward, watching the sun sink slowly toward the horizon. "From my perspective, mysteries unfold, and hidden threats stir. Someone here is not as benevolent as they seem," he whispered.
Celine snapped her fingers lightly in front of his face. "Stop getting lost in your thoughts again, Mr. Alaric," she said with a teasing smile.
A cold breeze swept across his face, making him shiver violently. "It's freezing!" he exclaimed, sneezing loudly.
Celine chuckled and pulled a blue scarf from her bag, wrapping it carefully around his neck. "It's not much, but it'll help until we reach your house," she said, holding his hand as they walked.
Alaric glanced down, feeling the warmth of her hand in his. His cheeks tinged slightly red. "Why don't you stay tonight at my house? Then we can study this locket together," he suggested.
Celine's smile softened, and her eyes lit up. "I'd be delighted to work with you, Mr. Alaric," she said, her voice sweet. She began running toward his house, pulling him along.
"Not so fast, Celine! My body still hurts!" he protested, wincing.
From a short distance away, a man in a white mask and wide-brimmed cap watched them intently. "Interesting," he murmured, eyes flicking to the faint glow of the locket inside Alaric's bag.
As night fell and the moon rose, everyone gathered at the dining table.
"It's wonderful to have you here for dinner, Celine," Elowen said warmly, serving the food.
"The pleasure is mine," Celine replied respectfully, closing her eyes in a brief prayer before eating.
Liora whispered to Alaric, "She's very religious."
"That's normal for the Marlowe family," Alaric explained calmly. "They believe in fate and divine order. They were the only family to aid the Southern countries during the First War."
Cedric nodded. "The Marlowes have earned a great reputation in the Southern lands. That's why they built so many temples and churches, for people of every kind."
Celine opened her eyes and tasted the food. "This is delicious, Mrs. Panheligon," she said cheerfully, clapping her hands lightly.
"I'm glad you like it," Elowen replied with a soft smile.
Liora twirled her spoon in the air. "My friends told me you were badly injured at the academy, Mr. Alaric, being chased by a creature," she said, serious.
Celine's smile turned hesitant. "T…that's nothing, right, Mr. Alaric?" she asked, nudging him under the table.
Alaric nodded vigorously. "Yes, it was nothing. Just a small cat while I was helping a girl," he said, trying to sound casual.
Cedric nodded. "Good. You must stay away from danger. We don't fully understand this world or the perils it holds," he said gravely, finishing his meal and heading to his room.
Elowen topped off their bowls with more soup. "Don't take him too seriously. What matters is that you stay safe and happy," she said warmly.
Outside, thunder cracked violently across the sky, shaking the house. "It looks like a heavy storm is coming," Elowen observed, glancing at the darkened streets. A shadow flickered in the lightning, glowing for a moment before vanishing.
Returning to the table, she added, "You two should get to bed early tonight."
Celine stood, gathering Alaric's utensils and carrying them to the sink. "Let me help you, Miss Panheligon," she said politely.
"You are clever," Elowen said, smiling. "That's why the Marlowe family has earned such a reputation."
Liora scowled. "Why does Mom think everyone is good?"
"Because people who are socially adept and polite are often seen as great," Alaric explained calmly. "A fool may speak randomly, but the wise have purpose in their words. There's a vast difference."
Liora shook her head. "Confusing. I think adults just get stupid as they age." She stormed off, disappearing into her room.
Alaric sighed quietly. "I'm going to my room, Mom."
"Sleep well, Alaric," Elowen said softly.
Celine's gaze flickered toward a shadow outside. "Is there something there?" she asked, uneasy.
Elowen looked but saw nothing. "I don't see anything."
"Maybe it was my imagination," Celine murmured, confused.
"Rest properly. Don't overwork yourself like Alaric," Elowen said kindly.
Celine nodded, bowing respectfully before heading upstairs.
In Alaric's room, books lay scattered across the floor, pages fluttering with the rhythm of the cold wind. Celine closed the window. "You shouldn't leave it open during a storm," she said.
Alaric knelt, examining the glowing locket. "It's a stone," he murmured, trying to extract it from its holder.
Celine leaned on the desk. "No matter how smart you are, you're still a man," she teased softly. She removed her hairclip, wedging it into the corner of the locket's holder, forcing the stone to pop onto the desk.
Alaric smiled. "You are incredible, Celine."
Celine beamed proudly. "Amazing, right?" She tied back her long black hair with the hairclip.
Alaric picked up the stone, examining it closely. "It's a cenatone," he said thoughtfully.
"What's a cenatone?" she asked, tilting her head.
Alaric opened a dusty book, revealing a page with the stone's illustration. "Cenatones are rare stones from the northern countries. Their essence manipulation techniques produce dense energy over centuries, giving them immense power. That's why northern armies are stronger than southern ones. No one truly knows their origin or usage, except northern royalty."
Celine studied the stone. "So it doesn't belong here?"
Alaric nodded gravely. "Possibly. It may have been brought here during the First War, but northern people likely never came themselves."
"Maybe someone from the south stole it," Celine suggested hopefully.
"Possible," Alaric said, rubbing his chin. "But there's no proof until we investigate further."
Suddenly, the window slammed open. Cold air poured in, sending pages flying.
"How did the window open?" Celine asked, stepping toward it.
Alaric began gathering the scattered pages. "It's dangerous to leave these free," he muttered, then froze, noticing a shadow in the corner.
"What is it, Mr. Alaric?" Celine asked, stepping closer.
Alaric's gaze hardened. "Who are you?"
The shadow advanced, revealing a man in black armor, heavy boots thudding against the floor. He held a sharp circular blade, eyes glowing red. "Give me that stone," he demanded, voice dark and heavy.
Another woman appeared, breaking through the window with uncanny agility. "That stone is mine," she said, stepping between them, radiating danger.
Alaric's eyes flicked to the desk, where the stone lay. "This stone is mine," he said confidently, snatching it and hurling it toward the window.
The man lunged, but the stone was gone. The woman followed, leaping after it. Alaric watched as they vanished into the night.
"They've gone… but you threw the stone," Celine said, concern etched on her face.
"I didn't," Alaric replied calmly. "That was a glass decoy. They'll chase it blindly."
Celine's eyes widened. "How did you do that?"
Alaric smiled faintly. "I noticed their greed. They would kill without thought for the stone. I knew if I threw a decoy, they'd pursue it. It's how people behave when something valuable is at stake."
"So… someone ordered them to take it?" Celine asked seriously.
Alaric nodded. "Yes. Assassins. They kill for money. Their manner and style made it clear."
Celine's concern deepened. "What if they come back?"
Alaric glanced at the shattered window. Thunder cracked, lightning illuminated the room, and the cold wind swept in. "I don't think so. They won't risk being caught. They'll assume we're hiding and may return with a better plan later."
Celine looked down, uneasy. "What do we do now?"
Alaric's gaze sharpened, resolve hardening. "We find out everything about this locket… and the stone."
Thunder roared again, and the storm's icy breath swept through the room, flipping pages and rattling the shelves. The night had grown alive with danger.
In the morning, Alaric stepped out of his room energetically. "I'm going to the library, Mom," he called before leaving the house.
Elowen looked up from the kitchen. "But you haven't had breakfast," she said, frowning in confusion.
Celine appeared behind him, descending the stairs and following him outside. "Bye, everyone," she said sweetly, closing the door gently behind her.
In front of the old library, Alaric came to a stop. "Why are we here? I don't think we'll find anything… this place looks like a haunted house," Celine said, glancing around nervously.
Alaric pushed the door open slowly. It groaned on its hinges, a sound like splintering wood. "The library is the best place to discover what others cannot see," he said, stepping inside. His eyes scanned the rows of old books, their leather covers thick with dust and age.
Celine followed him, her gaze flicking nervously across the dim corners. "I hope we find something important here," she murmured, keeping close behind him.
Suddenly, an old woman appeared from the shadows, striking Alaric's head lightly with a long plastic brush. "Who are you, boy?" she demanded, her voice sharp and serious.
Alaric straightened, bowing slightly. "Hello. We're here to learn… about this." He held up the locket, the soft blue glow of the stone inside pulsing faintly.
The old woman peered at it carefully. "Let me put on my glasses first," she said, retrieving a pair from her pocket and adjusting them on her nose. She took the locket gently and examined it.
"That's a real cenatone," she said, her tone grave. "Extremely rare… only found in northern countries, like Henlidia."
Celine's eyes brightened. "That means you know about it," she said, hope threading her voice.
The old woman rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "It's ancient… almost one century or more old. When I was twenty-eight, a great war erupted between the northern and southern countries. It was fought over their gods. The southern people followed the goddess of fate, Maria, while the northern people worshiped Aurelius, the Architect of Dawn the god of light and the physical sun." Her voice was solemn, carrying the weight of history.
Alaric stepped closer, his expression serious. "Why did they fight?" he asked quietly.
The woman's gaze drifted upward before she walked toward a small, shadowed room at the back of the library. "Many truths are hidden from ordinary people. Most who know them… die before they can reveal anything." She paused in front of the door, closing her eyes and drawing in her essence. Slowly, almost impossibly, the door creaked open on its own.
Celine gasped softly, awe in her voice. "That's teliknesis."
The old woman stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the silent library. "This place… it used to be a gathering spot, a café for those left behind by the war. We shared knowledge, whispered secrets, and preserved the truths of those battles."
Alaric followed, eyes wide as the stone in the locket began to glow more intensely, casting a soft blue light that danced across the walls. "It's glowing," he whispered, a mixture of awe and shock in his voice.
The air felt heavier, charged with secrets, as the library seemed to hum around them. Shadows shifted, the corners deepened, and the mystery of what lay ahead hung thick in the blue light of the cenatone.