CHAPTER THREE: UNEARTHING TROUBLE
The Grand Archive of Valmere was many things—vast, ancient, and filled with more books than common sense—but it was not a place where people like Alekai belonged.
This became painfully obvious when, within five minutes, he managed to knock over a towering stack of books, earning an immediate glare from the night librarian.
Lirien groaned, rubbing her temples. "Why did I bring you?"
Alekai grinned, unfazed. "Because I'm charming?"
The librarian—a thin, elderly man with spectacularly disapproving eyebrows—gave them a long, withering look before returning to his desk. The rustling of parchment and the scratching of quills filled the air, an atmosphere of quiet concentration that Lirien desperately wished Alekai would adopt.
Ren, sitting at a heavy wooden table, barely looked up. He had already buried himself in a thick volume on lost magics. "Maybe if we ignore him long enough, he'll wander off and find a bar," he muttered.
Alekai dropped into the seat beside him, stretching out comfortably. "Rude. I'll have you know, I'm taking this very seriously."
Lirien arched an eyebrow. "You're holding your book upside down again."
Alekai glanced at the book in his hands, flipped it over, and coughed. "I was testing you."
Ren didn't even look up. "Sure you were."
Lirien sighed, turning her focus back to the task at hand. They had spent the last hour combing through every text on resurrection magic, and so far, they had learned absolutely nothing useful.
Most records spoke of necromantic arts as forbidden, lost to time, or dangerous beyond comprehension. The usual dramatic warnings. Nothing specific about what had happened to Ren.
But there had to be something.
A TROUBLING DISCOVERY
Another hour passed. The library was growing quieter, most of the scholars packing up for the night. Lirien had nearly given up when she came across a particularly old volume, its leather cover cracked and its title long since faded.
Inside, the ink had bled with age, but she could make out a passage that sent a chill through her.
"True resurrection is impossible. A soul once severed cannot be returned without consequence. Those who walk again do so not by their own will, but by forces unseen, their fates forever entwined with the unknown."
She stared at the words, her fingers tightening around the page.
This wasn't just dangerous magic. It was unpredictable.
She looked up at Ren. He was still reading, seemingly fine, but… for how long?
"Ren," she said slowly.
He glanced up.
She turned the book toward him. "This might explain why you feel… different."
He read the passage, his jaw tightening slightly. Then, carefully, he shut the book. "I had a feeling it wasn't that simple."
Alekai leaned over, peering at the text. "So, what? Some 'unseen force' decided to bring Ren back for fun?"
Lirien frowned. "I don't know. But if the magic didn't come from me, or from him… then where did it come from?"
The question hung between them.
Ren sat back, thinking. "If something else is keeping me alive, then I need to know what. And more importantly—why."
Alekai rested his chin in his hand. "Well, I'd love to stay here in the land of books and ink stains, but perhaps we should find someone who actually knows about this kind of magic."
Lirien considered. "There might be someone."
Ren sighed. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Because you won't like it," she admitted.
Alekai grinned. "Ooh, this is getting interesting."
A VISIT TO THE SEER
There were many kinds of magic in Valmere—some practiced openly, others whispered about in dark corners. Seers fell into the latter category.
The one they sought lived in a cramped, cluttered shop tucked away in an alley where the city's light barely reached. The wooden sign above the door read "Madame Essera – Visions and Prophecy", though half the letters were faded.
Alekai let out a low whistle. "Charming."
Lirien knocked. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing an unimpressed woman wrapped in deep blue robes, her silver hair pulled into a loose bun.
Madame Essera took one look at them and sighed. "I don't do refunds."
Ren blinked. "We haven't bought anything."
"Then you're here for trouble," she said, stepping aside to let them in.
The interior was exactly what one would expect—low candlelight, thick incense, and shelves full of things that probably shouldn't be left unattended near open flames.
Essera gestured for them to sit. "Speak. Quickly."
Lirien didn't waste time. "We need to know about resurrection magic."
The woman's expression didn't change. "Dangerous knowledge. Few who seek it leave unchanged."
Alekai leaned back. "Well, we've already gone past the 'unchanged' part."
Ren hesitated. Then, in a steady voice, he said, "I was dead. I'm not anymore. But I don't think it was my doing."
Essera studied him, eyes sharp. "Come closer."
He did. She reached out, fingers barely grazing his wrist.
For a long moment, there was silence.
Then she drew back sharply.
Lirien stiffened. "What?"
Essera's face was unreadable. "Something else holds you here. Not magic. Not will. Something… watching."
Ren frowned. "Watching?"
Essera shook her head. "I have never seen its kind before."
Alekai cleared his throat. "That's not ominous at all."
Essera looked at Lirien. "How did you raise him?"
Lirien hesitated before pulling the rune-carved bone from her satchel. "This."
Essera's eyes darkened. "Where did you get that?"
Lirien felt a flicker of unease. "Stole it from a priest. Why?"
Essera exhaled. "Because this is no ordinary relic. It was meant to bind, not restore."
Ren's voice was quiet. "So I'm not just alive—I'm… tethered?"
Essera nodded. "And whatever you are bound to… is not of this world."
Silence.
Alekai exhaled. "Well. That's a fun revelation."
Lirien felt the weight of it settling in. If Ren's life wasn't his own… if something else had a hold on him…
What would it ask for in return?
Essera spoke again, her voice low. "Whatever has claimed you… it will want something. Be prepared."
Ren nodded slowly. "I will be."
But Lirien wasn't sure any of them were ready.