Morning broke cold and colorless over Carfein. A gray fog crept along the courtyards, pressing its fingers against the stone walls, as though even the air feared what hid inside.
Aria hadn't slept. Her wrists still bore faint red marks where James had grabbed her last night, dragging her back into the cell before the guards could see. She'd sat there till dawn, her mind clawing through panic — Did anyone see me? Did Lirien know?
When the key turned in the door, she already knew it wasn't breakfast.
Two guards in black armor stepped in. Their helms hid their faces."His Excellency summons you," one said flatly.
Aria's throat dried. "Now?"
"Now."
The corridor outside her cell was silent except for the rhythmic echo of boots. The torches flickered, spitting golden ash. The entire way to Lirien's chamber felt longer than the last time — as if the castle itself wanted to stretch the distance, to make her tremble longer.
When they reached the large iron doors, the guards didn't knock. They opened them, and the faint scent of parchment, candlewax, and something metallic — like blood — greeted her.
Lirien stood near the window. Morning light cut across his profile, highlighting the pale scar near his temple. He wasn't wearing his usual dark robe today; instead, his sleeves were rolled, his hair loosely tied back. He looked almost human like this. Almost.
"Come in, Aria," he said softly. "Sit."
There was no chair, only a low stool near the desk. She obeyed, trying not to let her shaking hands show.
Lirien turned, his golden eyes unreadable. "You've been quiet lately," he began. "I assumed you were buried in translation work. How is it going?"
"Steady," she said. "The Quartic dialect is difficult, but… I've managed to decipher a few new lines."
He smiled faintly. "Good. The roots of knowledge, like the roots of trees, grow when watered with patience."He moved closer, each step silent. "And yet, I wonder — how far patience can reach before curiosity starts… digging."
Aria blinked. "I don't understand."
"Don't you?" His tone wasn't accusing, but soft, playful. "You've been living in these halls for weeks now. Tell me — what have you seen? What have you heard?"
She swallowed. "Nothing, my lord. I only—"
"Only read, I know." He placed both hands on the desk, leaning forward. "And yet, the guards reported something interesting last night. Footsteps in the east corridor — a door left slightly ajar that should have been sealed. A tunnel door."
Her heart dropped.
Lirien's eyes flicked to her, sharp as blades. "Curious, isn't it? That the one corridor leading from your cell happens to be the same one disturbed."
Aria struggled to meet his gaze. "I… I heard noises, my lord. I went near the door, perhaps. But I didn't open anything."
The silence that followed was thick as smoke.
Then — unexpectedly — Lirien laughed softly. Not mockingly. Almost warmly. "Relax, Aria. I'm not accusing you."He walked around the desk, his robe brushing the floor. "Curiosity is not a sin. It's what makes you useful."
He picked up a folded parchment from the table and placed it before her. The seal bore the sigil of a coiling serpent."Then allow your curiosity to grow more," he said. "This is another piece of the diary — more ancient than the rest. Try to translate it by tomorrow night."
Aria blinked. "Tomorrow? That's—"
"—difficult, yes." His smile was razor-thin. "But I'm certain you'll find a way. After all… curiosity sharpens the mind."
He leaned close — close enough that she could smell the faint metallic scent again. His voice dropped low, almost a whisper."Tell me, Aria. When you look into the roots… do they whisper to you too?"
Her breath caught. "What—what do you mean?"
Lirien straightened, amused. "Nothing. Just an observation. You have that look sometimes — like the tree is speaking through your eyes."
He turned away, walking toward the shelves that lined the room. "You may go. Xyren will escort you back."
Aria stood slowly. "Thank you, my lord."
As she walked to the door, he added casually, "And Aria… next time you wander in the dark, bring a lamp."
She froze mid-step, but didn't dare look back.
The corridor outside was colder than before. Xyren was waiting, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His usual smirk was gone.
"What did he say?" he asked quietly as they started walking.
Aria exhaled shakily. "He knows. Not everything — but he knows something."
Xyren nodded once, his voice low. "He always knows something. That's his gift — and his curse."
They walked in silence for a while before Aria whispered, "He gave me another page. It looked… old. Almost burnt."
"Then it's important," Xyren said. "Work fast. And careful. Whatever he's planning… the pieces are moving faster now."
Aria frowned. "Do you think he suspects the Shadows?"
"He suspects everyone," Xyren said. "That's what makes him dangerous."
When they reached her cell, Xyren hesitated before opening the door. "You're lucky it was him who called you, not his guards. You step wrong again, and I can't help you."
Aria tried a faint smile. "Then maybe next time I'll take a lamp."
Xyren stared at her — then let out a short laugh despite himself. "You're either brave or stupid. I haven't decided which."
"Both," she said.
He shook his head, pushing the door open. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
That night, Aria couldn't sleep again. The parchment lay on the desk before her, the serpent seal broken. The letters were unlike any she'd seen before — curling, strange, almost alive.
As she stared, she thought she could hear a faint whisper between the lines, like breath caught in ink.
"…the roots remember what men forget…"
Her fingers trembled. She quickly closed it.Outside, a cold wind hissed against the stone.
And somewhere far below the castle, deep in the earth, the roots stirred.