“I knew you’d do it,” Nicholas praised Carmine as he eased back in his bedroll, far from the bonecage that trapped him and Tera below. “I knew you’d come through for us. I never doubted- Ow!”

“Please just rest, Nico,” Carmine said, pushing her teacher back down, again. With Carmine's treatment, his wound had closed. Still, the treatments Vale taught her couldn't return the blood he lost. He needed to lay down and rest. Instead, he wanted to celebrate. "Healing spells stress the body, you know that!"

“Come on kiddo, this was your first adventure!” Nicholas sat back up. “Your first time making your own story, not hearing about someone else's. Surely that’s worth at least some revelry?”

For a moment, Carmine felt proud of herself. Between her and her teacher, she didn't expect to do any rescuing, at least not so soon. That feeling quickly faded with the guilt in her inside pocket.

“And what would we celebrate with,” Tera asked as she stitched closed Jordan's injuries across from them. The lantern at the middle of their little camp lit the cuts and bruises the younger exorcist earned when he fought the undead. One of his eyes had swollen shut, but there grinned a happy fool as his master tended him. “We have water and dried rations, and not any to dump into a bland feast.”

“But surely we can think of something,” Nicholos insisted. “You feel like they deserve a reward, don’t you Tera? Our students used what we taught them to save us! As a teacher you must be proud.”

"Must I? Jordan fulfilled his duty as an exorcist. This was expected if him ." Tera said with monotoned practice.

"Hurrah for me…" Jordan hung his head, pouting.

"Oh very well." she rolled her eyes at her bratty apprentice, trying to keep a grin from her face. "Once we return to the cathedral, I should be able to scrape something together."

"Well, if you think I'm worthy of it," Jordan said, trying to look tough in front of his master. By the next moment, he was already back to whining about Tera's new stitch.

"Jordan and I will go back down to do a thorough check of the floor, in case there's anything else we missed." Tera said, cutting her stitching thread. She put her breastplate back on and helped Jordan into his.

"You don't think you should rest?" Carmine urged them towards their bedrolls.

"No, the sooner we finish our search the sooner we can start our way back."

"Don't worry Carmine. If we're not feasting, I'll get enough shut eye for all of us," Nicholos said, resting his head back.

"Finally taking your little doctor's orders?" Tera gestured.

"You need to rest," Carmine insisted. She turned all her attention to making Nico comfortable and avoiding Tera's gaze. Carmine bumped her checked every so often just to make sure the book hadn't been found by the exorcists...somehow. What would they do if they knew she had it?

"You treat me like an old man." Nicholos waved her off. "But, if you're gonna give me free time off from leaving no stone unturned," Nicholos tucked his hands under his head and shut his eyes, "who am I to complain?"

Tera shook her head and gave the old mage a smirk.

"Keep an eye on him." Tera said as both she and Jordan departed

Carmine sat beside Nicholos, watching the lantern burn as she listened, waiting for his snoring to start.

She needed to be alone. Tera couldn't blame Nico in case she was found. He'd be so mad if he knew, she thought, looking at his face. Vale would be too. They were right to hide this from her, she knew. She spouted so much at how ready she was to take on some responsibility and now that failure burned a hole in her pocket, and her chest.

"You know," Nicholos started, his eyes still closed, "you're younger than your mother was when she went on her first adventure."

"What?" Carmine turned to him, her brow furrowed as he mentioned Mother.

"Aye, I wasn't there and she only told me of it, boasted really, but she was a good ten years older than you when she did her first ruin dive."

"Mum mentioned she found magic stuff with you," Carmine recalled. "She started before you?"

"Oh aye, she was digging for silver books way before I could even speak Yarish. She showed me the ropes. She claimed she found a little golem that used to carry her equipment for her. Lucky find..." Nicholos muttered with a bit of envy, reminiscing as he let out a big yawn. "But you! You may not have such a grand relic, but you got to play the heroine, and a young one at that! I'd say that's a good start for you, aye?"

"Yeah," Carmine smiled a bit. She stared at the lantern, thinking of her mother, covered in dust, alongside them now...and it hurt. "Do you...do you think she'd be proud of me?" Carmine asked, turning back again to Nicholos.

He answered with a snore.

Carmine sighed, smiling at her guardian. At least he's okay. It only started to set in now how close she came to losing him...and being alone again.

That can't happen.

Carmine's hand touched the journal in her pocket, gripping it tightly through her coat as she stood up. She grabbed the lantern and walked a small way away from where Nicholos slept.

It won't.

Carmine walked the first floor of the ancient archive, walking back again to that small room where she'd gotten stuck on a chair. The silver shelf sitting with crystal books aplenty still stood with its knowledge intact. Carmine read through much of it while Nico and Tera left her here to search. Most of it was little more than introductions to concepts well known; agriculture, laws, governance, even a little about magic. No doubt the tablets in the lower archive had much more to tell. Had the ancients left all this for them to find? If they brought all this knowledge, all this guidance, why did so many bad things still happen? Why did places like Rolderston and her old home know so little about all this? Why did they let people hurt each other?

Carmine pulled the journal from her pocket. Perhaps the answers to her questions would be found where she wasn't allowed to look.

With the journal clutched to her chest, Carmine turned to the burrow's exit. She couldn't read in this place. It knew too much.

Most daylight faded over the red mesas, but night had not yet started to blacken the sky. She could read here, alone, undisturbed.

Unwatched.

Damp stone didn't even compare to the comfort of one of the ancient's floating chairs, but Carmine settled as much as she could outside. She flipped the journal in her hands. An unremarkable thing. Just a leather-bound book held shut with a loose cord strip wrapped around it.

"It's not too late," She read the margin note again in a whispered tone. "Doubt it."

Carmine furrowed her brow, skeptical about whatever she may find, but half of her mind pushed her hands to unwrap that book, even if the other half protested.

She paused at how easy it had been. These secrets were supposed to be destroyed by the exorcist, and here she was taking them right from under their noses. All she needed to do was open it.

The journal trembled between her hands as they refused to move from its edges. She wanted to open it, but she couldn't help but feel that the moment she did she would lose something.

Three deep breaths later and the journal remained unopened. She shouldn't do this, she knew, but this might be her only chance. Carmine groaned in frustration, rising to her feet, unable to decide, when she heard a clatter and splash.

Her hand rushed to her belt, finding that Father's knife had come loose. She saw its hilt sticking half in the shallow creek and her heart caught in her throat. Her hands snatched it up before the next second passed. She looked it over for damage, only realizing she held her breath after she found no scratch. What if it had been chipped. Or rusts?

She hissed as water sunk into the bandages on her right hand. It stung a moment before fading into the back of her mind where it remained. Even after years of treatment, the pain never really went away. Vale said it would one day, but Carmine doubted it.

When she looked over Father's knife, wiping it clean of the dirt and water, she felt another pain that would never go away. Not unless she made it.

Carmine opened the book.

The journal revealed little of the writer's history. The necromancer, some guy named Bernard, had evaded the exorcists for months. He’d searched for one of the ancient barrows, like this one, hoping to use its knowledge to resurrect his daughter.

He really did feel the same.

Bernard thought the archive held some of the information he needed, but from his mad scribbling, it didn't have it all. Incomplete and scratched out magical equations covered the last third of the journal. Carmine flipped back and forth through the book, trying to find translations as she struggled to understand everything she could. It took her more than an hour to decipher everything in its final pages. The sun had long since sunk, and she huddled next to the lantern as her only light. The spell that could tell death to piss off had three parts.

One renewed the body. Carmine recognized similar symbols to the ones Vale taught her for medicine, but these went deeper. From her readings, this spell would force wounds to close quickly and abruptly, something Vale warned to use only as a last resort. Something could heal wrong, or the patient could be put through agony...but if the body wasn't alive maybe it wouldn't be too bad...as long as it didn't go so far as to warping the body, like the thralls.

The second focused on repairing the mind of the returning being. Yeah, that would be important. Carmine nodded along. The more she read, the more benign the spell seemed. The exorcists didn't know everything, that's for sure.

The Yarish runes focused on creating calming sensations in the resurrected and restoring their memory to what it was. What if that went wrong? Would someone come back not even knowing who they were? Could...could her parents forget her?

No. No, not if she did it right.

She pushed the worry from her mind and turned the page for the next layer of the incantation.

"No." she snapped as she scanned the equation. "No, no, no!" Her fingernails dug into its leather cover.

It's not done.

The runes barely started into methods of returning a person's soul to their body. The necromancer had moved ahead to the latter half of the incantation; directions for rebinding a mind to its body, but the whole process of finding the right being's consciousness and how to pull it back hadn't even been started!

Why!? She was so close!

The equation was there, drawn out in front of her, save for a small but essential piece.

She flipped back through the pages, trying to find a clue, any clue, but damned Bernard had as little idea as she did.

And now the Exorcists had him. The spell would never be finished, and asking would only make trouble for Nicholos.

Why couldn't the spell just be there!? How could this be so...unfair!?

Why!?

Carmine grit her teeth, rising to her feet with a cry on her lips. She threw the journal across the crevice path. "Stupid book!" She roared, cursing with all her hate as it bounced off the stone wall and half into the creek. "You were supposed to have the answers! Why couldn't you just..."

She grabbed her face, crushing the heels of her palms against her eyes to keep the tears behind them. She tried to stay angry, at the book, at the necromancer, at the exorcists, something to keep her mind focused on anything but the reopening wound on her heart, but she failed and failed again.

Those wounds never closed in the first place.

Carmine fell to her knees, unable to keep the sobbing back, growling at herself to stop.

She couldn't do anything but cry, back then, and she was just as helpless now. If she wasn't so useless Mother and Father might have lived! She should have told them to run, or ran away herself. Instead she hid and cowered and everything burned down.

Her own reflection glared back at her in the glass of the lantern. Damn worthless coward! She reached out to swat the lantern away. She deserved to be alone, unseen, ignored.

As her hand moved, faint light arcing between her fingers. The lightning spell manifested even without Carmine's conscious attempt. She barely got her arm over her eyes as the glass exploded out. The force threw the lantern across the crevice, its flame going out as its iron case smashed and clanged into the rock wall.

Once the echoing stopped, Carmine slowly lowered her arm. She held her hand in front of her face, noticing the arcing energy diminish and fade.

She hadn't meant to cast anything, it just came out. Just like with Mother, when Father died. When she was angry.

Carmine winced, pain burning across the palm of her hand. Even in the dark of night, she could see blood leaking from her palm, feel its warmth across her hand. She cupped her wounded hand with her bandaged one, clutching it close to her chest.

"Mom, Dad?" She spoke, hoping they'd somehow hear. "I'm sorry...I-I don't think I can help you. Please don't hate me. I'm sorry! I'm-"

What was the point, she wondered, gritting her teeth before she wasted more breath. Drowning guilt replaced all her anger and sorrow as she remembered where she was. The ruin entrance was barely twenty paces away. If Nico wasn't such a heavy sleeper, he'd have put a stop to this already. I'll have to apologize to him too. She sighed, patting around in the dark until she felt the journal's half-soaked cover.

She'd betrayed him, and Vale. She'd broken her promise to both of them.

Finding the lantern took more time, but eventually Carmine stubbed her toe on it.

With her shame all collected, Carmine drudged her way back inside.

The camp hadn't changed from when she left a short while ago, and yet it somehow looked different. Nicholos still snored without a care in the world. He wouldn't be so proud of her now.

She dropped onto her bedroll, laying the journal on one side and the lantern on the other. She felt how it looked, broken and tilted to one side..

Nicholos didn't stir as Carmine re-lit the light, despite the discomfort it caused her. She looked at him, hoping he'd just wake up and know. She wouldn't have to say anything he'd just...understand, but that was foolish.

She would have to wake him herself. She didn't know if she could.

"Nico," she whispered, almost hoping he wouldn't hear. She called again and again, each time a little louder, each time her voice cracking more.

By the time he stirred, Carmine's hands trembled in her grasp.

"Aye, Carmine, what is it," He said, lifting his head.

"Nico…" She called again, her head in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Whoa, hey, what's wrong?" Nicholos pushed himself up, grimacing and holding his side. He reached towards her, but Carmine pulled away.

"You're worrying me, kiddo." A nervous laugh escaped him as he leaned to her face.

"I...." Carmine turned her face away. "I've done something wrong. Something bad."

"What, did you break the lantern?" Nicholos chuckled, poking the poor thing. "Wow, did you drop it? Don't worry about it, it's no big-"

Carmine pushed the journal into Nicholos' chest, her head hung low, unable to meet his eyes.

"What's this?" Nicholos asked as he took the soggy book from her hands.

Silence answered him, only occasionally disturbed by the sound of paper flipping.

Her shoulders seized, she bit her lip, punishment lingering in every second.

Speak up! Carmine yelled in her mind. Tell him! Explain!

Instead she said nothing, rocking in place as she regretted ever laying eyes on that stupid book, but even more her decision to open it.

"Oh dear," Nicholos sighed before the journal snapped closed. "Tera is looking for this. This kind of research is...not meant for anyone's eyes."

"I'm know." Carmine's voice turned hoarse, and she felt a lump in her throat. "I know i shouldn't have-"

"Stop. What's done is done. Tera will want to know how this got here."

"Are they going to take me away?" Carmine looked up, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She feared the answer.

"What? No, no, no, no. Please don't think that. I won't let that happen." Nicholos put his hand behind Carmine's head and pulled her to his chest. She frowned. He should be yelling at her, scolding her, turning against her. Carmine felt the warmth of his hand and it confused her.

"You made a mistake," he said, gently patting her head as her trembling started to subside. "But one I'm at fault. I thought this might be too hard for you. I tried to keep you away from it-"

"No," Carmine interrupted. "I took it. I knew it was wrong, but I...but...I…" her voice cracked, barely able to get words out. "I just wanted to see them again." She broke down, burying her eyes in Nicholos' coat.

"I know, Carmine, I know." The old mage tried to soothe her. "That empty feeling, a void like no other. You can't look at the world without noticing a gap. An empty space where something, someone should be. I know somedays it's unbearable. I've seen you on those days and it hurts me more than any wound. On those days- these days remember: you have people who love you, and care about you, Aye? Vale and I, we're here for you."

"I know." The coat muffled Carmine's reply.

"You can talk to us."

"I'm sorry."

"No more of that. I forgive you."

One of the archive’s moving doors snapped open, followed by the clanging steps of armor before they stopped suddenly. Anxiety started to creep up Carmine's spine again, but Nicholos took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"You made a mistake," he said in a gentle, blameless tone. Carmine nodded her confession. "The best thing we can do for that-

"-is to admit it."

"And you did. The worst is already behind us. I'll talk to Tera. It'll be okay."

Nicholos stood up, still holding Carmine's hand as they both turned to face the pair of exorcists.

"Everything alright?" Tera looked between them, her care worn brow furrowing once again.

"I believe you're looking for this." Nicholos held the journal for Tera to take.

As the book changed hands, and the elder exorcist recognized it, her brow only furrowed deeper.

"And how did you come by this?"

"I found it." Carmine admitted, shaking as she looked up to Tera.

"It's been opened." Her low tone sent a shiver down Carmine’s spine, but Nicholos remained ever calm.

"I think you and I should have a word in private," Nicholos suggested.

"Yes, we should." Tera's eyes flickered between the two mages. Her eyes saw through Carmine as if every secret she had was laid bare.

"Jordan, watch her."

"Uh, sure Master," Jordan agreed. He stopped removing his armor and looked at the trio with confused concern.

"Take a rest, Carmine," Nicholos told her. "We'll be back soon.”

Carmine let go of Nicholos' hand and sat back down on her bedroll. She watched the pair disappear into a separate room, the door shutting behind them. Not even Carmine's ears could hear past it. This is it. She’d be right next to Bernard on the pyre...or the rope, whatever they did to bad sorcerers.

Rest was the last thing on Carmine's mind. Tera scared her. The look in her eyes was even more serious than when the cage trapped her and Nicholos. Hopefully Nicholos would be alright.

She waited, staring at the door for only a few minutes until it opened again. Tera came out first, the journal under her arm, face as stern as ever. Nicholos came out behind her still looking haggard, still holding his side. He deserved to be resting instead of cleaning up Carmine’s mess.

Metal boots snapped Carmine out of her thoughts and Tera marched straight towards her. Oh ancients, here it comes! She shut her eyes.

Where she expected a slap, Carmine only felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She peeked to see Tera kneeling to meet her eyes.

"You're not in trouble." She said in a way for Carmine to completely doubt it. "Nicholos explained a few things. I...know a bit about how you feel."

"You...do?" Carmine started to relax, more curious than afraid now.

"I'm an exorcist. I've lost friends right before my eyes. Someone your age shouldn't have to deal with so much so soon. It's...small comfort, but I'm sorry no one was there for your family when you needed us."

Carmine looked at the ground. She'd spent so many days wishing someone, anyone had been there.

"But I can tell you this: It's hard right now, but you'll learn to deal with it as you grow, but you'll always remember them," she finished quietly, her face softened as she tapped above Carmine's heart with her gauntlet. "We carry them with us, here."

Tera released her grip, standing tall again with that serious look back on her face. "Get your kit Jordan, we have what we need."

"Master, its already so late- '' The young exorcist started.

"Pack up. Let's go." Tera pointed to the door and Jordan hung his head.

Nicholos took Carmine's hand and helped her to her feet. "Time to go home."

"Yeah," she agreed, ready for this incident to be behind her.

"Hey," Nicholos called as she started to turn away. "It's not easy, admitting our mistakes. I am proud of you kiddo."