We did not simply run at first.
We soared, stumbling over jagged stones, shoulder-to-shoulder, hands entwined to prevent the shadows of the Index Chamber from claiming us as Luthen's distorted footsteps grew nearer.
The sound was grotesque. A wrongness seeped into the air. A dragging limp echoed against the stone, as if a creature of too soft flesh wore the guise of a man.
Sareth yanked me toward the obscuring wall. "This side--there must be another exit--there is always one-"
The Index stones flickered with an otherworldly candlelight that did not belong to us. Names dripped from the walls like ink coursing down ancient parchment. Some names were mere whispers, some marred and scratched over, while others bore the violent scars of erasure, leaving deep gouges in the stone where letters once resided.
We passed a slab where a name had been clawed into existence, erased in desperation, and carved again, only to be obliterated once more until naught remained but a haunting smear. Sareth murmured, "Someone fought fiercely to resist vanishing."
The ominous footstep echoed once more.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
"VAERIN--"
We both froze in our tracks.
The voice transcended the realm of mere wrongness. It was layered, a cacophony of Luthen's specters entwined in a grotesque symphony.
Sareth's grip on my arm tightened, a painful reminder of our desperation. "We do not look back. We do not respond. We flee."
At last, we reached the far wall.
A seam. So slight, it was almost imperceptible. Another hidden door awaited our discovery.
Sareth threw her shoulder against it--yet it did not yield.
I laid my palms flat against the cool surface and sensed a faint vibration. A resonant hum. Like the heartbeat of something ancient, deep within.
"It's barred," I murmured, a chill creeping through my veins.
"No," Sareth breathed, drawing closer to the ancient stone. "It listens."
A sense of dread coiled tightly in my gut. "Listening for what?"
"Not what," Sareth intoned, her voice trembling. "Who."
Another squelching footfall echoed through the shadows. A subtle rasp of breath. The sound of something dragging itself toward us within that haunted chamber.
I pressed my trembling hands against the cold, unforgiving wall. "Please--open--open--"
A faint shift. A mournful groan of stone.
The seam gaped--a mere crack.
Enough.
Sareth thrust me through first, then followed, wrenching the door shut just as a wet thud struck the other side with dreadful force.
We braced ourselves against the door, our backs pressed tight, until the scraping, scraping, scraping of that lurking thing faded into the bowels of the chamber behind us.
Only then did we allow ourselves to breathe.
The narrow passage lay engulfed in impenetrable darkness, save for a solitary lantern that flickered ominously upon the stone floor. Not cast aside by chance.
But placed there with purpose.
Sareth lifted it, the lantern's glow revealing the shadows that danced around us. "Someone's treads have lingered here," she murmured.
We pressed onward through the tunnel, its damp air thick with secrets, until we emerged into a small alcove, the stone walls adorned with dust-cloaked scrolls, forsaken ink bottles, and timeworn writing desks.
Sareth inhaled sharply, a dawning realization evident upon her face. "This is the sub-archive office."
Curiosity drew me to the desk, where the faint haunting scent of lavender hung in the stale air, awakening something deep within.
Recognition struck me like a spectral hand to the chest.
"Kallith," I breathed, the name barely escaping my lips.
Sareth's eyes widened, concern etching deeper lines into his brow. "This was her essence?"
"Yes," I confirmed, a chill seeping through me.
A tidy stack of aged ledgers lay upon the desk, while one parchment sat apart, folded with meticulous care.
Untouched.
Awaiting its fate.
With trembling fingers, I reached for it, dread knotting my stomach.
To Archivist Vaerin
From Mistress Kallith
(If you find this, I have already been removed.)
The weight of the words slammed into me.
I continued, the air thickening as I read.
In the realm of the Calyra, history knows no correction; it exists solely in curation - a curation demanding blood.
You must grasp this: the mirrors are not ours to command. They harbor the ears that listen beyond. And the Council, insatiable, feeds them. With memories. With truths. With souls.
I swallowed, the sensation like a stone lodged in my throat.
When the Calyra selects a soul, they do not vanish into oblivion. They are rewritten, molded into something efficient. Something compliant. Something devoid of spirit.
Visions of Luthen flashed through my mind, fragmented yet haunting.
Kallith's words were jagged, the ink a frantic scrawl:
You are being indexed, Vaerin. Your name surfaces because the mirrors hunger for your essence. Flee before they complete the carving. Trust not those who hum in the dark.
A shiver ran down my spine, the air thick with foreboding.
Sareth leaned closer, the urgency in his gaze palpable. "What does it mean?"
I hesitated, the truth a heavy mantle that could shatter us both. Yet to conceal it would be a greater sin.
"It speaks of the Calyra rewriting the souls of the chosen," I whispered. "That the mirrors decide who shall disappear."
Sareth's countenance hardened, resolve etched into his features.
"And what of your fate?"
With effort, I met her gaze, a tempest of uncertainty swirling within me.
"It declares I am next."
Sareth stood resolute, her composure unyielding in the face of adversity.
With deliberate grace, she extended her arm across the shadowed desk, grasping my trembling hand as though to tether me to the earth.
"Then we shall not allow that fate to unfold."
Her voice shimmered with fury, not the faintest trace of fear dimming its edge.
"We will uncover the remnants of Kallith, unravel the fate of Luthen, and we shall extract you from the grasp of the Calyra."
I opened my mouth to voice my dissent, yet her resolve silenced me.
"You placed your faith in me," she murmured, her tone a gentle whisper enveloped in strength. "Now, I offer my trust in you. Reveal to me our next destination."
A tightening sensation gripped my throat, a harbinger of the weight of the truth I bore.
"There is another chamber, shrouded in darkness. One we have yet to dare."
Sareth gave a solemn nod, her decision crystallizing in the dim light.
"Then let us embark."
We pivoted back toward the abyssal tunnel, the air thick with menace.
Behind us, the lantern flickered ominously--And on the desk, Kallith's letter twisted in on itself, as if an unseen specter had brushed against it.
