The dawn in Arkania had a different feeling that morning. The cobblestone streets were beginning to come alive, but for Darian, Aria, and Varkas, the world felt different.
They walked toward the Guild at a measured pace. Darian still felt the crushing gravity in his chest, that constant weight trying to sink his lungs. However, the two swords crossed on his back anchored him to the ground. Inside his pack, Vaelor's egg radiated a soft, constant warmth against his back, a small heart beating in tune with his own mana.
"I still say it's too conspicuous," Aria remarked, walking beside him. "You look like a lighthouse with that blue glow on your swords."
"Says the girl wearing giant blood wolf hide like a winter coat," Darian shot back, sketching a slight smile.
Aria shrugged, letting the red and black cloak billow in the morning breeze. Her white bow hung from her shoulder, immaculate and lethal.
"It's a matter of style, Darian. Something you clearly don't understand."
Varkas let out a low grunt. His dark plate armor resonated with each heavy step.
"Stop bickering, pups. We need to talk to Valerius so he gives us an evaluation mission. I want to test this steel in real combat and get that Silver Rank done with."
When they crossed the Guild's immense wooden doors, the receptionist came running, pale and breathless.
"By the gods, you're finally here. Master Valerius needs you in his office. Right now."
They entered the office without knocking. Valerius was standing behind his desk, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. He wasn't alone. Standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back and wearing his impeccable gray coat, was the Imperial emissary.
The man turned slowly. That same inscrutable half-smile appeared on his face.
"Punctual," said the man in gray, with his cold voice. "I see you've forged exceptional weapons."
"We're here to do the Silver Rank promotion mission," Varkas growled, placing his enormous body between the emissary and the two youngsters. "We don't have time for games."
Valerius coughed, visibly uncomfortable, and pointed to a black scroll on his desk, sealed with the golden wax of the capital, Aethelgard.
"Guys... the Silver Rank test will have to wait. I have a direct request from the Empire. And it's exclusively for you."
Darian frowned.
"We're Bronze Rank, Valerius. The Empire wouldn't hire us just like that."
The man in gray took a couple of steps toward the center of the office.
"The Empire needs discretion. Past the city of Ironhold, very close to Fort Ark, on the very border with the Dwarven Kingdom, we've detected disturbances in the Broken Peaks dungeon."
The emissary placed both hands on the desk, looking at them with intensity.
"Sending a regiment would draw too much attention from the dwarves and they'd take it as an act of war. We need a small, capable group to go in, clear the place, and return. If you do it, the Empire will grant you a direct promotion to Gold Rank. And additionally... an authorization pass to access the capital's Grand Library and its restricted historical archives."
Darian felt his heart lurch. The archives. It was the key to uncovering the truth about Sarion and the grimoires.
The young man stepped toward the desk to take the scroll, but Aria stopped him. The archer grabbed his hand firmly, pulling him back sharply. Her green eyes were locked on Darian's, filled with a fierce warning.
"It's too much, Darian," she whispered. "Nobody gives away Gold Rank and access to Imperial secrets for clearing a cave. Something doesn't add up."
Darian looked at Aria's hand gripping his. He knew she was right. But the need for answers burned inside him. He looked at Varkas, who nodded slowly, ready to follow him.
Darian gently freed himself from Aria's grip and took the black scroll.
"We'll do it."
"Excellent," said the man in gray. "Fort Ark awaits."
An hour later, with supplies loaded, the group was crossing Arkania's East gates. The atmosphere between them was unusually tense.
"You sold us out for the promise of some damned archives," Aria said, breaking the silence. She walked with a furrowed brow and arms crossed beneath the wolf cloak. "You let yourself be blinded, Darian. That man in gray reeks of a trap from a mile away."
"We need that information, Aria," he replied, keeping his gaze forward. "It's the only way to know what we're really up against. And look at us... with this equipment we can clear that dungeon and come out in one piece."
The archer let out a dry, bitter laugh.
"I just hope that obsession of yours with the truth doesn't cost us our heads. If we get killed in that cave, I swear I'll hold it against you in the afterlife."
Varkas sighed heavily, without intervening. Darian didn't respond; he simply adjusted the straps of his pack, feeling the warmth of Vaelor's egg against his back, and advanced in silence toward the east.
Hundreds of kilometers away, in the fortress of Aethelgard, the silence was absolute.
In a room sunk in shadow, lit only by the fire of an immense fireplace, a figure studied a map of the continent. The air distorted and the man in gray appeared from nowhere, kneeling.
"They've taken the contract, my lord. They're heading for the Broken Peaks."
The figure leaned slightly forward. The firelight illuminated a hard face and calculating eyes.
"Good. Let the test begin."