Days slipped by as Haizen remained confined within the labyrinthine Citadel of the Veiled Brotherhood. Deep underground, surrounded by stone walls imbued with enchantments and mysteries, he spent his time recovering from the brutal clash in Blood Valley. The Brotherhood's healers visited him regularly, their spells weaving warmth through his battered body, their salves easing the lingering ache in his bones.
By the second day, Haizen found that he could stand and walk again, his legs regaining their strength. Most of his torso had healed as well, but his arm—badly scorched and fractured during Carlos's thunderstrike—lagged in its recovery. The healer, with a tone both professional and apologetic, explained that only a higher-level mage could fully mend it, and such expertise was unavailable at this outpost.
With his newfound mobility, Haizen's restlessness grew. The citadel was massive, its halls a maze of elegant stone corridors lit by floating lanterns that cast an ethereal glow. The whisper of Brotherhood robes and the occasional clang of metal echoed faintly as members moved with purpose through the fortress. Every detail of the citadel spoke of wealth and power, but its cold, clinical atmosphere reminded Haizen that he was far from free.
Determined to check on his companions, Haizen ventured into the hallways, piecing together directions from the healer's earlier comments. Urilo, he had said, was recovering in the room next door, while Nova was isolated in a sealed chamber due to the magic he had unleashed. The thought of Nova confined gnawed at Haizen, filling him with equal parts worry and unease.
Pushing open the door to Urilo's room, Haizen found his friend propped against a stack of pillows, engrossed in a thick book. Bandages still wrapped around Urilo's torso, but his face lit up with genuine relief at the sight of Haizen standing.
"Haizen! You're walking," Urilo said, setting the book aside. His voice was warm, though his fatigue was evident.
Haizen allowed himself a small smile as he eased into a chair beside the bed. "Turns out, I'm harder to kill than I thought."
Urilo chuckled but quickly turned serious. "How are you feeling? And have you seen Nova yet? They told me they've kept him locked away because of the magic."
The mention of Nova darkened Haizen's expression. He shook his head. "Not yet. That's where I'm headed next. They've got him in a sealed chamber, and I don't like it. I'm worried about what they're doing to him."
Urilo nodded, his features grim. "Be careful, Haizen. We don't know the Brotherhood's full motives yet. And Nova… the magic he used isn't normal. It's powerful and dangerous. They might see him as a threat—or worse, as a tool."
Haizen's jaw tightened. "I'll keep my guard up," he said, standing with determination. "We need to figure out what they want with Nova—and with us."
Leaving Urilo to rest, Haizen continued his journey through the citadel. The corridors stretched endlessly before him, their intricate carvings and gilded fixtures both beautiful and foreboding. He passed Brotherhood members who spared him fleeting glances, their expressions unreadable behind the hoods of their robes. Despite the grandeur of the citadel, every step felt like a walk deeper into an unknown trap.
As he navigated the halls, Haizen stumbled upon a massive library. The room was a testament to the Brotherhood's wealth and thirst for knowledge. Towering shelves lined the walls, packed tightly with ancient tomes and scrolls. A soft, amber glow filled the space, casting shadows that danced across the rows of books.
At the reception desk sat a thin man with glasses perched on his nose, his sharp features giving him an air of mystery. The librarian looked up as Haizen entered, his keen eyes studying him briefly before he spoke. "Sir, what would you like to read?"
Haizen hesitated. Reading wasn't a habit he had ever cultivated. His life of survival and combat had left little room for books, which he had always seen as a luxury for those with time and safety. "I'm not really… sure," he admitted. "What would you recommend?"
The librarian's gaze lingered on Haizen for a moment before he stood, scanning the shelves with practiced ease. "Hmm," he mused, his fingers skimming over spines. "This one—no, not quite… Ah, here we go." He pulled out a book and handed it to Haizen. Its cover bore the title Blade of Warriors in elegant gold script.
"This should suit you," the librarian said. "A tale of fighters, survival, and resilience."
Haizen took the book with his left hand, his other still bound in bandages. The title sparked a faint flicker of interest—it wasn't his usual preference, but with little else to do during his recovery, it was worth a try.
He sank into one of the library's plush chairs and opened the book. The words on the page drew him in, telling of warriors who fought not just with strength but with cunning and heart. For a brief moment, the worries about Nova, the Brotherhood, and their uncertain future faded into the background.
But even as the story captured his attention, Haizen's thoughts drifted. Somewhere within the depths of this citadel, his brother was alone, locked away. The Brotherhood's motives remained unclear, their apparent hospitality laced with suspicion. Haizen closed the book momentarily, his hand resting on the cover as he stared into the distance.
Whatever the Brotherhood wanted, one thing was certain: Haizen would protect Nova at all costs. And if the Veiled Brotherhood thought otherwise, they would soon learn what it meant to cross him.