The book cracked softly as Darius opened the cover and turned the pages of the record book. It was one of the record books I hadn't read yet as it was stored in Darius's office, away from the more public records.
His fingers traced the pages and his eyes scanned over the words quickly until he came to a stop on a page near the middle of the book.
"This record here," Darius began, his voice reverberating with a sense of awe, "details an event long in the past—the discovery of a legendary artifact known as the Diary of Infinite Travels, created by the arcanist known as 'The Lonely Wanderer'."
The mere mention of such names somehow sent shivers down my spine. A legendary artifact. I had encountered a few artifacts before but none were mentioned like this. Shattered Sight, the small pair of spectacles and The Hand of God, the chainmail glove.
"Its creation as an artifact was said to be birthed by the knowledge and information meticulously written and recorded within its pages. Something of an enigma in the world of artifacts," Darius continued, his gaze fixed on the dusty book before him. "The Diary, an artifact of immeasurable value, holds within it the essence of countless journeys and arcanist discoveries across the world during the earlier eras in history. Unfortunately, it's been missing for centuries."
Our breaths seemed to hang in the air, heavy with the weight of Darius's words. The very mention of the Diary of Infinite Travels invoked an air of mystery and significance that tingled in the quiet meeting room.
"If my predictions are correct," Darius continued, his voice laden with quiet intensity, "these leaks suggest that the pages rumoured to be auctioned off are potentially excerpts from this very diary itself. The auction being solely arcanist-related lends credence to this theory. It's logical to assume that such extraordinary pages, tied to the arcanist world, hold exceptional value."
The pages, a mere fragment of a greater whole, suddenly made sense. The diary itself had vanished centuries ago, its absence shrouded in legend and myth. This also reminded me of the missing pages I discovered in the library books. Could this also be related somehow? Did those books have information that someone wanted to be erased perhaps?
Caius's brow furrowed in contemplation. "But why sell just a few pages if the diary's worth is immeasurable?"
"Scarcity," Fleur interjected, her voice contemplative. "If the diary's been lost for so long, only fragments remaining, each piece becomes invaluable. It's about control, limiting access to such profound knowledge. That sounds exactly like something King would do."
"But why would he be willing to sell such knowledge," Lucas asked.
"King takes no sides," Fleur replied. "Once he reads whatever is on those pages, he likely wouldn't care what happens to them. Let alone having them fall into a tyrant's hands."
Darius inclined his head in agreement, his eyes conveying both concern and resolve. "We cannot allow the pages, mere fragments though they may be, to fall into the wrong hands. The implications of such knowledge are vast and dangerous."
Lucas, his brow furrowed with contemplation, voiced the unspoken inquiry hanging in the air. "But why not let it be sold to a reputable buyer? Someone who might use it for the greater good?"
Darius sighed, his expression solemn. "Because this is not just any knowledge. It's an artifact—a high-tier artifact, to be precise. The Diary of Infinite Travels isn't about offence or defence; it's about the knowledge within. Knowledge that could alter not just the arcanist world but the very fabric of oneself, turning into a much more powerful Lamentor in the process."
His words lingered, their weight settling upon us like an ominous cloud. The notion that even just knowledge could transform an ordinary arcanist into a Lamentor, capable of wielding untold power, sent a shiver through our collective resolve.
"The weak-willed," Darius continued, his voice tinged with caution, "might succumb to its allure, only to be consumed by its knowledge. The diary's secrets hold the potential to destroy those under its profound information as a high-tier artifact. The knowledge can be a burden on them."
The gravity of Darius's explanation hung in the room, a palpable silence punctuated by the weight of an artifact's significance. Fleur's gaze drifted, lost in thought, while Caius mulled over the implications.
Whereas I was slightly shaken. I had read a page of the diary back in the library. I had experienced the words from another era yet I hadn't turned or altered reality. Was the diary I read a fake? It certainly didn't read like it was fake.
It also didn't have any profound knowledge on the page I read. I remembered it detailed a war, overcast with a veil of midnight sky. A night that had lasted a very long time. The writer asking questions about the shadows of the four descending to end the battle. It wasn't really knowledge one could use in this age. But what if it could be a greater tool to someone, to unlock greater secrets I wasn't aware of?
"It's not just about the pages," I murmured, realization dawning. "It's about preventing the unravelling of this delicate balance within this world."
Fleur nodded in agreement, her voice tinged with conviction. "We can't allow King to dictate the destiny of such knowledge. His motivations remain elusive, but his actions threaten the very foundations of our world."
With Darius's words settling in, I couldn't help but connect the dots. The pages in my fractured vision up on stage were the real deal. Part of a highly sought-after artifact from eras past.
This revelation also was possibly connected to the new supplier. As each of these puzzle pieces was making sense, it wasn't a far cry to think that. Lorenzo being part of Pandora's crew within The Black Rose was a supplier for her, helping gather and send materials from the western continent.
Seeing how the main supply chain was through the port of Leode and travelled right to Araway across the sea, the connection to the Barros Scroll I saw in that other fracture was uncanny. It had come from across the ocean in Araway most likely too.
I couldn't help but think that there is something mysterious and unlawful going on over in Araway that could even possibly be behind all this mess here in Leode.
"But how do we even begin to acquire those pages from the auction?" Caius interjected, his voice cutting through the weighty silence.
"Hmm, you've got a point," Darius sighed.
Lucas spoke up, "Doesn't King see all that goes on within the underground markets? Infiltrating undetected would be near impossible."
"King," Fleur said. "I don't know much, but I do know some. He's not as powerful as everyone thinks. He's not even a high-tier arcanist. He's more like Fritz Haand in the aspect that he's even a low-tier arcanist from what I know, still with great influence."
"Well, wouldn't that make it easy to take him out?" Lucas asked.
"He has an artifact in his possession." Fleur looked up from her thought and cast her gaze across the team of Huntsmen.
"His eye," She said, pointing to her right eye. "It's a fake eye, his artifact. Likely it has the ability to see everything going on within the area he commands. There would be conditions, but that's the gist of it. And again, he still has his bodyguard unit. Because of his influence, I doubt anyone would oppose him, even with his probably little strength."
An uncertain silence descended upon our team, shrouding us in a cloud of contemplation. Darius, our leader, cleared his throat, drawing our attention to the centre of our deliberation.
"Mar," he addressed the quiet figure, "you and Jean will scout the entertainment district. Keep an eye out for any signs pointing to the imminent auction. Time is of the essence. It could be any day now that the event will be going ahead."
Mar nodded silently, her usually confident demeanour now tinged with a hint of apprehension. She made her way out to the lobby where Jean was sitting reading his newspaper. He hadn't joined in our conversation but Mar would fill him in.
Turning to the rest of us, Darius continued, "We need fresh ideas on how to approach this infiltration. Consider all angles, all possibilities."
With a decisive nod, he dismissed us, leaving the weight of our impending mission hanging in the air. As the team dispersed, my mind churned with uncertainty, grappling with the limitations of my abilities in this complex scenario.
As I stepped out of the Den, contemplation wrapped around me like a shroud. The clandestine auction, the enigmatic pages—it all wove into a tapestry of mystery and danger. How could my role as a Watcher of the Time Path prove useful in this intricate web of deceit? I could gather information ahead of time, but at the moment was harder.
Before I could fully process my thoughts, a familiar presence loomed behind me. Caius, annoyingly persistent.
"There's a connection," I mused aloud, voicing my thoughts to myself, "it's uncanny. There's something brewing."
"But how do we even begin to acquire those pages from the auction?" Caius interjected as we walked away from The Den, a tone of frustration underlying his query.
Darius's voice resonated in my memory. His words echoed the challenge we faced—a near-impossible task of infiltrating an auction overseen by King, a seemingly influential yet low-tier arcanist.
Fleur appeared on my other side and almost gave me a fright. I didn't know both Caius and her were joining me.
"King isn't as omnipotent as believed," Fleur interjected, her knowledge shedding light on our adversary. "He's more a manipulator than a powerhouse. Yet, he holds an artifact—a fake eye granting him exceptional surveillance capabilities."
Lucas' brows furrowed in thought. "So, disabling that artifact could level the playing field?"
Fleur shook her head. "It won't be that easy. He has a devoted bodyguard unit, and his influence shields him from opposition."
I guess basically the whole team was now following me. But I had plans already. I was going back to The Red Anchor again. I couldn't really let them join me.
As we approached The Red Anchor, my irritation simmered beneath a facade of composure. Why were they all trailing after me? Couldn't they have been occupied with something else?
We each took a seat at the bar counter and ordered a round of drinks. Obviously, I got the Aurich Apple while the others got whatever.
"Why not gather information ahead of time?" Caius persisted under his breath, seemingly determined to pry open the lid of our predicament. I guess he did understand that we couldn't talk loudly about this kind of thing in public. "How would we even acquire them—" his voice trailed off, frustration evident in his tone.
I sought refuge in silent contemplation. Darius's cryptic words echoed, and I mulled over the threads connecting our present to the foreseen future.
"It would be hard enough to walk freely as it is, but we even don't have a way inside. Invite only right Elias?" Lucas muddled.
I had my hand on my chin in thought and gave him a slight nod. It was an invite-only event meaning there would be no way of getting inside without a guard or some kind of surveillance watching our every move. And Fleur was right, once in, King with his artificial eye would be able to watch our every move anyway. It almost seemed impossible.
As the team deliberated strategies over their drinks, Fleur's voice resonated amidst the conversations, drawing my attention. "I could possibly get inside without an invite," she murmured, her words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "But again, King would know I'm there."
Her revelation sparked a flicker of recognition within me. Fleur's ability—was it connected to the Porter pathway? The physical most path with time abilities. If my knowledge served him right, it granted arcanists the unique power of portraying not only objects but even themselves over short distances.
The pieces fit, aligning with her cryptic capabilities. Yet, King's surveillance prowess would render her intrusion obsolete.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere diverted my attention. Deka's entrance through the Red Anchor's doorway disrupted my thinking, an unexpected development demanding my immediate attention. I initially came here to talk to him about my bounty on Lorenzo.
A discreet departure became imperative. Without raising suspicion, I drained my glass, its lingering taste a mere echo amid the ongoing deliberations of my team.
While the others debated strategies, a towering figure approached our group—a tall figure shrouded in a white mask and a trench suit.
One of the bodyguards that of King.