The aftermath of the skirmish in the restricted archives lingered in the air. Alaric, Serena, and Liliana walked across the academy grounds in silence, each lost in their thoughts. The morning sun painted the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, but its warmth did little to ease the tension between them.
Finally, Serena broke the silence. "So, what's our next move? We can't just pretend last night didn't happen."
"We won't," Alaric said firmly, clutching the black-bound book they had recovered. "This book is our starting point. If we can decipher more about the cult's plans, we might be able to stay one step ahead."
Liliana frowned, her arms crossed. "It's not just about the cult anymore. That figure last night—whatever magic they were using—was unlike anything I've studied. They didn't just wield darkness; it felt... ancient."
"Ancient or not," Serena said, her tone light but edged with determination, "we took them down. We can handle whatever else they throw at us."
Alaric glanced at her, his expression serious. "We were lucky, Serena. That wasn't their full strength, and you know it. If the cult has more people like that—or worse—we need to be prepared."
Serena sighed but didn't argue.
---
Later that day, Alaric sat in his quarters, pouring over the book. Its text was written in a strange, shifting script that seemed alive, the words rearranging themselves whenever he looked away.
"Divine energy... why do they fear it?" Alaric murmured to himself.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. He opened the door to find Professor Caldor, the academy's head of magical research, standing there with his usual stern expression.
"Your Highness," Caldor greeted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "Word travels fast in this academy, even about restricted archives."
Alaric sighed, shutting the door behind him. "You heard?"
"I did," Caldor replied, his gaze falling on the black-bound book on the desk. "And I see you recovered something. That book isn't just any relic, Alaric. It's a key to understanding powers long forgotten."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You recognize it?"
Caldor nodded. "Barely. The language it's written in predates even the empire. It's said to be the tongue of the ancients—the ones who first harnessed magic."
"Can you read it?" Alaric asked.
"No," Caldor admitted, "but I know someone who might. An old colleague of mine, Professor Elwyn. She specializes in deciphering ancient texts and is currently residing in the city of Serafelle."
Alaric leaned back, considering the implications. "Serafelle isn't exactly close. If I leave the academy now, it'll draw attention."
"That's a risk you'll have to weigh," Caldor said. "But this book holds answers. Answers that might save lives—or cost them."
---
That evening, Alaric gathered Serena and Liliana in his room to discuss the next steps.
"So, you're leaving?" Liliana asked, her voice unusually soft.
"Only temporarily," Alaric replied. "The professor believes someone in Serafelle can help us translate this book. If it holds anything about the cult's plans—or my divine energy—we need to know."
Serena frowned, leaning against the wall. "And you're going alone? That doesn't sit right with me."
"I'll be fine," Alaric assured her. "This isn't a mission for all of us. The academy still needs you both here, especially with the cult lurking in the shadows."
Liliana sighed. "We understand, but be careful. If the cult is as old and powerful as they seem, they'll have eyes everywhere."
Alaric smiled faintly. "When have I ever been reckless?"
"Don't get me started," Serena quipped, though her grin didn't quite reach her eyes.
---
The journey to Serafelle began at dawn. Alaric rode alone, his thoughts swirling with possibilities. The countryside passed by in a blur of green fields and winding roads, but his focus remained on the book and the mysteries it held.
By the time he reached Serafelle, the sun was setting, bathing the city in a warm, golden light. The bustling streets were alive with merchants, performers, and townsfolk, their laughter and chatter creating a symphony of life.
Following Professor Caldor's instructions, Alaric found himself outside a small, unassuming building near the edge of the city. A carved wooden sign above the door read, Elwyn's Antiquities and Mysteries.
He knocked, and after a moment, the door creaked open to reveal a tall, slender woman with sharp features and piercing blue eyes.
"You must be Alaric," she said, her voice smooth and measured.
"I am," he confirmed. "And you're Professor Elwyn?"
She nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The interior of her shop was cluttered with artifacts, scrolls, and books, each seemingly older than the last.
"So," Elwyn said, gesturing for him to sit, "what brings a crown prince to my humble abode?"
Alaric placed the black-bound book on the table between them. "I need this translated. It's written in the tongue of the ancients."
Elwyn's eyes widened slightly as she picked up the book. "Where did you find this?"
"In the restricted archives at the academy," Alaric replied. "It might hold answers about a cult threatening the empire—and about my own power."
Elwyn studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. But translating this will take time. The language is complex, and even I don't fully understand it."
"I'll wait," Alaric said firmly.
Elwyn smiled faintly. "Patience is a virtue, Your Highness. Let's see how virtuous you are."
---
Over the next several days, Alaric stayed in Serafelle, assisting Elwyn with her research when he could. The city's vibrant energy provided a stark contrast to the weight of their work, but Alaric found himself growing restless.
One evening, as they were examining a particularly difficult passage, Elwyn paused, her expression troubled.
"What is it?" Alaric asked.
"This phrase," she said, pointing to a line of shifting script. "It mentions a ritual—something called The Binding of Veils. It's tied to a force known as The Abyssal Veil."
Alaric's blood ran cold. "I've heard that name before. The cult is trying to awaken it."
Elwyn nodded. "If they succeed, it could unleash a power capable of consuming entire kingdoms. This isn't just about you, Alaric. It's about the fate of the world."
The weight of her words settled heavily on Alaric's shoulders. He had always known his path would be challenging, but now, the stakes were higher than he had ever imagined.
"I won't let them succeed," he said, his voice resolute.
Elwyn met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then you'll need more than strength and determination. You'll need allies—and knowledge."
As Alaric left her shop that night, the streets of Serafelle bustling around him, he couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in. The cult was growing stronger, their plans more dangerous by the day.