Silence hung in the room for a long moment.
No one moved. The guards stood by the door like statues. Breias stared at the librarian's body, and Azi watched the blood slowly dripping into the cracks between the stones.
Jurian still stood in the middle of the room, a book in one hand and the other clenched into a fist, his gaze fixed on Pestor's corpse.
"He doesn't look like an ordinary fanatic," he said at last, quietly.
No one answered.
Jurian slowly walked over to the man whose throat he had just cut. He crouched beside him, turned his head to the side, and studied his eyes for a moment.
"Look at the pupils," he said.
Lasin stepped closer.
"Dilated," she noted.
"And the veins," Breias added.
A purple web of swollen veins still showed beneath the dead man's skin.
"Someone used him," Jurian said. "Someone made him do it."
Azi frowned. "Magic?"
Jurian shook his head.
"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it."
Silence fell again for a moment.
Lasin pressed her lips together.
"The Archive is no longer safe," she decided. "We need to leave."
"And go where?" Azi asked.
"To the base."
Breias raised an eyebrow. "Right now?"
Lasin nodded.
"If the Cult of Truth managed to kill Archivarius Primus in the middle of his own library, I don't want to find out what they do next. We need to report this to our superiors as soon as possible."
Jurian said nothing.
He slowly opened the book Pestor had handed him.
The pages were covered in dense, tiny writing, with strange symbols scattered among the text.
Jurian remained silent for a moment.
Then he closed the book again.
"What's in it?" I asked.
Jurian looked at me.
"Pestor's research. His life's work."
Breias walked past us toward the door.
"Let's go."
We left the Archive and stepped into the nearly empty streets of Theocran.
The wind carried dust between the houses, and somewhere in the distance I could hear wagons creaking. The evacuation was still underway.
Breias went ahead.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked.
"To a place," Lasin replied, "where matters like this are dealt with."
We turned into a narrower street and left the Archive behind.
And I had the strange feeling that someone was watching us.
But when I looked back, the street behind us was empty.
Only the wind moved through the abandoned houses.
Lasin slowed in front of an unremarkable house wedged between two taller buildings. The plaster was peeling, and the windows were darkened.
"Here," she said.
Breias gave the street a quick glance, as if making sure no one had followed us.
Lasin walked to the door and knocked.
Nothing happened for a while.
Then at last the door opened. A man in ordinary clothes stood there, looking us over in silence.
Lasin only gave him a short nod.
The man stepped aside.
We entered through a narrow doorway. The ceilings were low, and almost no light reached inside. As soon as we stepped in, the man shut the door behind us.
It slammed closed.
At that exact moment, the torches on the walls flared to life on their own.
Light flooded the room.
I had barely had time to look around when I felt a cold blade at my throat.
Six men and women stood around us, all with weapons drawn.
Jurian's hand immediately slipped to the hilt of his sword.
He did not look nervous in the slightest.
"What do you want here?" one of the girls asked suspiciously.
Jurian did not move.
"Lower your weapons," he said calmly. "Or I'll cut you all down where you stand."
There was something in his voice that made several of them hesitate on instinct.
Lasin sighed.
"Calm down," she said.
Everyone turned toward her.
The girl holding the sword to my throat blinked.
"Lasin?"
"Yes," she replied dryly. "And if anyone puts a sword to my throat again, I swear I'll personally throw them out of the organization."
The blades slowly lowered.
The tension in the room eased a little.
But Jurian still kept his hand on his sword.
"Let's go to the main hall," Lasin said.
We walked down the corridor and entered a larger room.
A long table stood in the middle, with several chairs around it. Maps and plans were pinned to the walls.
A planning room.
I looked around at the people inside.
There were about twelve of us in all. Some of them looked like seasoned fighters.
But most of their eyes were fixed on us.
Several hands still rested on sword hilts.
"Sorry about the welcome," Lasin said, leaning against the edge of the table. "We've had... problems lately."
"We noticed," I said.
The girl who had stopped us at the door earlier frowned.
"Why are they here?" she asked.
Breias leaned against the table and examined her lazily.
"So I can burn them."
Azi shot him a look.
"Try it and I'll burn you."
Breias raised an eyebrow.
"You want to compare flames, Azi?"
Azi leaned across the table.
"Gladly. Just don't be surprised when you end up as ash."
They stared at each other for a moment.
Then both of them burst out laughing at the same time.
Lasin rubbed her temples.
"You two..."
They fell silent at once.
Meanwhile, Jurian quietly surveyed the room, his eyes moving from one person to the next as if committing every weapon and every movement to memory.
"So," Lasin said, straightening up. "We have a problem."
Several people at the table looked up.
"Archivarius Primus is dead."
The room went quiet.
"What?" someone by the wall said.
"He was murdered inside the Archive itself," Lasin continued. "And it looks like the Cult of Truth is behind it."
At that moment, the hall door opened.
Three people entered.
The first was a Ming. He was easy to recognize by his pointed ears and the black hair that fell to his shoulders. A woman in leather armor walked at his right. At his left was a massive Grasion.
He clearly had no need for armor.
His muscles were enough.
It was easy to tell from his expression that thinking was not one of his strengths.
"Welcome, guests," the Ming said calmly.
"I hope we haven't made your day unpleasant."
As he said it, he looked at Breias as if he already knew he had tried something.
Breias frowned at him.
His expression clearly said:
What, me? I've never done anything wrong.
The Ming let out a brief chuckle.
The Grasion, meanwhile, straightened up even more, showing off his muscles.
"These are our seats," he said to us while the Ming sat down at the head of the table.
"And what are you going to do about it?" I asked.
The Grasion bared his teeth.
I was not entirely sure I had not just caused myself an unnecessary problem.
The Ming only made a small gesture with his hand, signaling for him to come back.
The Grasion snorted as if I were not worth the trouble.
The woman and the Grasion moved back to the Ming. He said something to them quietly. Then both stepped aside and remained standing a few paces from him.
"By the way," the Ming said after a moment, "my name is Bruno."
"So you were there when Archivarius Primus died."
Bruno studied us for a moment. Then his gaze stopped on me.
"And you're the witness from the village," he said at last.
I nodded.
"Interesting."
Then he leaned back in his chair.
Nothing at all could be read from his face.
"So tell me something about yourselves," he said at last. "I like to know who's sitting at my table."
Meanwhile, Breias examined the candlestick on the table as if it were the most fascinating thing in the room.
"I'm a former Detruisian soldier," Jurian said. "And a combat medic."
There was a moment of silence at the table.
"Detruisia?" Breias muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you're still alive."
"It's true that surviving the fall of Detruisia wasn't easy," Jurian said. "But I was lucky."
Then all eyes turned to me.
"I... trained with soldiers for a few years."
Halfway through the sentence, I realized I did not really know what else to say.
I had the feeling I had trained for longer than a few years.
But I could not remember.
Half the people at the table laughed.
I gave them a murderous look.
"And what exactly can this one do for us?" the Grasion beside Bruno asked. "Maybe clean the toilets."
I took in the scent of the people in the room.
Bruno was strange. His smell was different from the others.
As if something had altered it.
I kept that thought to myself.
"Calm down, Ragnar," Bruno said evenly. "We don't need to smash the whole place apart just yet."
Then he leaned back again.
"At the moment, we're dealing with an organization that is killing the city's inhabitants."
Silence fell over the room again.
"We're short on people, so if you're interested, your help would be useful."
His gaze shifted to me.
"I'd like to speak with you about it later."
He paused for a moment.
"Tomorrow morning at nine," Bruno added, "most of the organization will meet at the main headquarters. We'll decide on our next steps there."
At that moment, the hall door flew open.
A breathless messenger ran inside.
He looked around the room, then at Bruno.
"Another body has been found," he blurted out.
Bruno did not even stand.
"Lasin. Azi. Breias. And you two newcomers. Go take care of it."
"Where?" Lasin asked.
"Potter Street," the messenger replied.