Chapter 2: The First Mark
Kalec didn't sleep that night.
Even after the shadowy figure had vanished, leaving the library as still and cold as a tomb, the words spoken to him echoed endlessly in his mind. The Archive has taken notice. The tome before him lay unopened now, but the glow of its runes still burned in his memory.
The Archive. A myth, a legend among scholars. But Kalec had always believed there was a kernel of truth in every myth. And now, standing at the threshold of that truth, he felt both terrified and exhilarated.
He gathered his things hurriedly, shoving the mysterious tome into his satchel and snuffing out the candle. The library doors creaked as he left, the silence of the streets outside a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts raging in his head. He couldn't stay here. He needed answers, and the library—no matter how vast—wouldn't be able to provide them.
He decided to head to Alyndra, the master archivist of Aeloria, and perhaps the most knowledgeable scholar in all of Vardan. She had studied every known ancient manuscript, including many Kalec had only dreamed of laying eyes on. If anyone could help him understand the nature of the tome and the strange figure, it was her.
The journey through the darkened streets of Aeloria passed quickly, and soon Kalec found himself standing before the Archivists' Tower. The building loomed above the city like a forgotten sentinel, its stone walls worn with age and its narrow windows glowing faintly in the night.
He knocked, the sound echoing hollowly. It was late, but Alyndra had always kept strange hours. Kalec waited, trying to calm his racing heart.
Moments later, the door creaked open, and an older woman with sharp, silver eyes peered out. Her hair was gathered into a loose bun, streaked with gray, and she was wrapped in a deep green robe. There was a spark of recognition when her gaze fell upon him.
"Kalec," Alyndra said, her voice soft but commanding. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Come in."
He stepped inside, the warmth of the tower a welcome contrast to the chill outside. Alyndra led him to a small study filled with scrolls, books, and maps. She gestured for him to sit, and Kalec did so, trying to find the words.
"I found something," he began, pulling the tome from his satchel and placing it on the table. "Or rather, it found me."
Alyndra's eyes narrowed as she examined the book, her fingers brushing over the cover. "What is this?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Kalec admitted, rubbing his temples. "It came to the library today. No one knows where it came from. I… I began translating it, and then—something happened."
"Something?" Her gaze sharpened.
"There was a figure," he continued, his voice dropping. "In the library. A shadow. It spoke to me, said something about a gate, about the Archive…"
For the first time since he had met her, Kalec saw a flicker of fear pass over Alyndra's face. She drew her hand back from the tome as if it had burned her.
"The Archive…" she whispered. "Kalec, do you understand what you've done?"
"I—" He hesitated. "I don't. That's why I came to you."
Alyndra stood abruptly, moving to one of the nearby shelves. She began pulling down scrolls, unfurling them on the table with a kind of hurried precision Kalec had never seen from her before. Each one contained strange symbols, diagrams, and sketches—some of which bore an eerie resemblance to the marks he had seen glowing on the tome.
"This is old," she said, mostly to herself. "Very old. The Archive is a place outside of our understanding, outside of our time. Few have ever glimpsed its existence, and fewer still have returned with their minds intact."
Kalec swallowed. "What is it?"
Alyndra's hands paused over a particular scroll, and she looked at him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "The Archive is not just a library. It is the center of all knowledge—knowledge that can change reality itself. But its power is too vast for a single mind to contain. It chooses those worthy of entering, and once you are chosen…" She hesitated. "There is no turning back."
Kalec's mouth went dry. "No turning back?"
"You've been marked, Kalec," she said, her voice grave. "The Archive has seen you, and now you are part of its design."
For a moment, Kalec sat in silence, processing her words. Marked. Chosen. The implications weighed heavily on him, more so than he had imagined.
"What happens now?" he asked quietly.
Alyndra shook her head, worry etched into her features. "I don't know. This hasn't happened in my lifetime, or my predecessors'. But the Archive never reveals itself without reason. There will be trials—dangers far beyond what you've faced in the comfort of the library." She paused, looking at him closely. "And there will be those who seek to claim what you've found. The Archive's knowledge is not meant for all."
Kalec felt a tremor of fear run through him, but underneath it, there was something else—a flicker of excitement. Despite the danger, despite the unknown, the thought of unraveling the secrets of the Archive stirred something deep within him.
"Can you help me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alyndra sighed, sitting down again across from him. "I can try. But you must be prepared, Kalec. If the Archive has truly chosen you, it will demand more than you know."
Kalec nodded, resolute. He had always sought knowledge, and now it seemed knowledge had come for him.
Alyndra took a deep breath and gestured for him to extend his hand. "Show me the Mark."
Kalec hesitated. "I don't think there is one. The figure had a mark, but I—"
"Kalec," Alyndra interrupted, her tone firm. "If you've been chosen, you bear a Mark. It may not be visible yet, but it will manifest. Now, show me your hand."
Slowly, Kalec extended his right hand, palm up. For a moment, nothing happened. He almost felt relieved—maybe it had all been a dream, a trick of the mind.
But then, as Alyndra's fingers brushed over his skin, the air around them seemed to hum. A faint glow appeared, tracing a line from his wrist to his palm—a symbol, shifting and changing, just like the runes in the tome.
Alyndra's breath caught in her throat. "It's begun."
The Mark was there, faint but unmistakable. And as Kalec stared at it, a strange sensation washed over him—an awareness, a connection, as if something far greater was watching him from beyond the veil of reality.
And for the first time, he felt the weight of the path he had unknowingly chosen.