'Magic' in Histromver is a little…weird. (II mean, all magic is weird? Its not a normal phenomenon right)

OK, so, just to sort out the terminology -

> Aether/Aetherial energy - refers to the energy that powers arcanus

> Arcanus - the process in which aether is converted into arcanum

> Arcanum - refers to the effect of ‘one exerting his will’ through arcanus

Setting aside that these definitions are more philosophical than scientific in nature (and are mainly used by the Uiatachians and thus have different interpretations outside), the main understanding is that the process of casting magic is almost like any other process - energy, conversion, effect. Input, output.

Right, we got that down at least. But what the heck is Aether? I’m dunno if it’s the ‘aether’ we know back on Earth (until I somehow manage to conduct the Michelson-Morley Experiment), but honestly, I don’t really want to figure out the implications of that. A completely parallel world with a grandly different form of quantum physics might literally change everything.

…

Stealing from quantum mechanics again - if I assume that aether and aetherial energy act or resemble something like photons or other particles, where they are effectively quantized bits of energy, that would greatly help simplify a lot of how things happen. That they are diffuse, neutral particles that exist in large quantities across Hristomver and are merely charged when called upon by arcanus processes (i.e. spells) or sapients exerting their wills…

…wait, that doesn’t hold up, because I can’t go around just using my brain to command quarks and bosons and force them to form photons or electrons…there must be something else to it.

- Personal notes of Roland

“What bunk.” Navras snorted, his nostrils flaring in indignation. “What could the Order have that could possibly be a solution to our troubles?”

“Quite a lot, as you might note.” The Custodian answered almost nonchalantly. “You do remember that we are the largest teacher of scribes in the whole of Strovia? We are not just a mere order, we are-”

“-the biggest group of scheming fools this side of the Orvrost Sea, yes.”

One of Ris’s eyebrows on his unflappable face finally twitched.

“Ok, ok, ok.” Roland held out a hand, annoyed from the bickering. “Look, I get you have an issue with them, Navras, but would it hurt you to, errr, not say anything for a moment? I really want to hear what he has to say.”

Navras narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, instead grabbing his tankard of ale and taking another swig.

“Thank you, Mate Outsider.” Custodian Ris resumed. “Now, as I was saying, the Order does not merely support Strovia by training scribes and whoever, but we also have caches of knowledge and material, most of them from the days of old. You see,” the Custodian grabbed a chair, pulling it out and sitting in it, “your friends, the Uiatachians may claim the mantle of progress and learning, but before the collapse of our glorious realm so many findrielpulz ago, Strovia was itself a realm of such as well.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t mean you still have what you have lost…unless?” Realization hit Roland like a bat. “Ohhhhh…”

The Custodian smiled. “Indeed, when the signs of the Collapse began to show, some within the Order, seeing the devastation that would swiftly follow, took action, and took every scroll, every tome and material and hid them in our catechies, our holds and what stores, and filled them up with all the knowledge that they could find.”

“Assuming, if they haven’t already been raided or robbed.” Navras was still rather dismissive.

“Regrettably, yes, but some still stand - including one, within Orismuth itself.”

Roland pondered it for a moment. “Ok, but…” He said, still uncertain. “What makes you certain you can find a solution to our fuel problem within your archives?”

“You are aware of Straskey’s arcanum heritage, are you not?” Custodian Ris replied. “Experiments with the aether and the wider field of arcanum were common in Straskey, and the ‘archive’ I speak of would have been the greatest store of arcane knowledge in the whole of Strovia. From things like harnessing the latent energies in the Lake Variya, to weapons forged from…ah, I digress.`` Even with the dim light of the burning candles, it wasn’t hard to see the reverence clear on the Custodian’s face. “Apologies, I’m rather fond of it, you see. But more importantly - Vrize, the Thinker, one of those bright minds of Strovia, attempted to use aetherial crystals to heat and boil water, while creating a seal and device that would perform well enough on its own, to bring clean, hot water to every peasant in Strovia.”

“And you have seen the…records, of this thing?” Roland frowned, “Does it even work?”

“I question whether such a thing meant to be used by small peasant families would be even enough for a large vat of water that needs to be boiled.” Navras' skepticism had faded, but he was still doubtful. “Vrize…Vrize…where have I heard that name?”

“As much as I wish I could say more, my memory of that document is…rather faded.” the friar said, apologetically. “The only thing I can ask is for Mate Outsider to join us in pursuing our archives, and inspect it as it is.”

Roland raised an eye, looking over his flask as he drank from it.

“Oh really? You would bring him down, into your sanctum, alone, by himself?” Navras sneered. “How totally unsuspicious.”

“You are free to accompany him, although - as you may have been already aware, we cannot permit you to trespass within the archives itself.” But rest assured, we are not planning to bring harm or induct whatever conspiracy on him.”

“Typical…” Navras grumbled, turning to Roland. “Well, Outsider…if you are planning to take that…offer up, I will bring myself and my guards to act as…a guarantee, then.”

Roland cut a piece of flatbread, taking a tentative bite from it. Surprisingly, it tasted great, expanding in his mouth with the lively taste of pepperish spice. As he bit down, his eyes darted between the Lembass and the Custodian, all the while the animosity from them both radiated like a field of two like charges.

“Likewise, I must tell you to watch yourself carefully - we may not be able to protect you, and I highly doubt your reputation has not reached the ears of unscrupulous men.”

But what other choice do we have? Roland asked inwardly, his fist clenching in distress. There's no other easy option…and if that contract is binding, the Danaeifards are going to eat a lot of shit on my behalf.

Fuck…

Exasperated, Roland grabbed his flask and drank deeply from it. Slamming back on the table - and startling the other two men, he declared, "I'll go. Maybe I will try asking the Watch if they are willing to come along...but if not, we will just have to risk it."

Custodian Ris nodded. "Very well, I will make the arrangements. Please, enjoy your meals, honoured guests."

==|==

“So…you will be heading down into the Order’s archives then?”

“Yeah…I thought…at least I should keep you updated.”

“That makes the situation difficult,” Madeline replied matter-of-factly. Dipping her quill in fresh ink, she continued with her report, an extensive accounting of the Mallebrium’s aetherial crystal stores that the Watch had demanded.

“Honestly, I think we should be fine,” Roland replied, coyly. “The…Danaeifards are bringing along their escort, and I think we can borrow the two Sovereign Watchmen stationed at the Catechy to help us out. As long as I stay incognito and not do anything publicly, nothing should happen.”

“Many a man has said that right before disaster befell them.” the Magister replied, touching the rune on the Whispering Steele seamlessly between the strokes of her quill.

Nothing came out from the Steele for a bit. As the silence dragged, Madeline paused her pen, almost reaching to send another message. However, the next message eventually did come, and she relaxed.

“...well, if you put it like that…do you think the Order actually has anything to offer or is it just…overinflated claims?”

“The Order definitely has something,” Madeline said, placing aside her quill. “They are not lying when they’ve said that their’s is the most comprehensive records of Strovia. But its a collection that they guard jealously. They’ve rebuffed all my attempts to visit or look at it, which just shows how important it is to them.”

“Wait…if they are letting me look at it…”

“...they are, inevitably, doing this for a reason. Even if it is simply to reserve a favour in the future.” The Magister turned the page, slowly detailing another list of materials in dark black ink. “They would love to have the…primer, that you gave me for instance.”

“...just to archive it, or because…?”

“Well, I can’t say,” Madeline admitted. “They - ostensibly - are there to maintain the religion, the words and teaching of Colsumbri and the Council of Sages. To that end, their archives are there to maintain that, along with their training of scribes, sponsoring from nobles who wish their children trained, and their maintenance of the provincial schools that were once set up by the Strovian Realm - which would have fallen into disrepair. But on that basis, to say they aren’t working towards a greater goal is naivety. They definitely have a reason to allow you into their holiest of sanctums.”

“A test? Seeing how useful I can be?”

“It could be,” Madeline replied. “I can’t predict what they are doing. What I can only tell you, is to keep all of that in mind.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Roland’s voice got firm. "But even so, I still have to take the chance. If the whole project collapses… it’s…going to be a setback, at least." Roland’s sigh clearly displayed his irritation. “You can’t send anyone else, right?

“I can’t. My men are still forbidden to move, and Masaru will also be busy tomorrow.” Madeline asserted. “But must you? Even if this project fails for the Danaeifards, it does not necessarily mean the end of their operations at the Pit - they are capable of working out another situation.”

“They’ve gotten this far, though. And frankly, I honestly can’t stand -” the frustration in Roland’s voice was painfully clear, “- something that I went to great lengths to doing end up all wasted. And since I’m here, why not just take the chance? ‘Nothing ventured, northing gained’, as we say back on Earth… ”

Madeline sighed, dropping her quill in the inkpot and rubbing her face. “Looks like I…you’ve made your mind up then, and I’m not going to be able to change it.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry, I know we already had the arrangements… you won’t have to worry though; with the Danaeifards and the two Watchmen, so it won’t be another bother on you.”

“I hope so.” She said, as toneless as possible.

“Yeah, er….right, its late, so I will…head for bed first…Good night, and uh, good luck with the work.”

With the aetherial connection broken with its partner, the light of the Steele’s crystal faded. Madeline looked at it, thinking of sending another message back, but shook her head, instead turning back to her work.

However, she found she couldn’t focus. Sighing, she put her writing materials away. Putting the quill back in its holder, covering the inkpot, and filing the half-completed report in a drawer. Clearing her desk, she leaned back in her seat, grabbing a flask of drink placed surreptitiously next to the table legs.

As much as Roland had tried assuring her, she certainly did not feel assured at all, now that he had left the safe accommodations that she had so painstakingly prepared. Sipping heavily from the flask, she pondered the nature of his willingness, his daringness - it was certainly as much of a liability as an asset.

She sighed in resignation, placing the flask away and tapping the table, taking a look at her astrolabe. A thought came to her, causing her to retrieve her quill again, rapidly scribbling a calculation on a piece of scrap paper. As if seized by something, the Matriarch stood up quickly and strode over to one of the cabinets in her office.

Opening the tall piece of furniture, she pushed aside the false backing and inspected the object hidden inside. Small aetherial currents ran along her fingers as she checked the arcanus integrity of the said object.

Extending an arm into the cabinet, Madeline closed her fist - and an armguard, flared with smooth features flew onto her outstretched arm. When it landed, the piece of armor began to compress itself, complex mechanical parts within shifting and locking into place to form a powerful defensive shell.

The Matriarch nodded with satisfaction, before detaching the armguard and returning it to the cabinet. And with an annoyed sigh, she sealed off the false backing.

==|==

The next day came.

It was early in the morning with dawn barely broken and Findriel shining brightly amidst clouds, but already the Catechy was a hive of activity as an expedition was prepared. Horses sat waiting in the courtyard, while members of the Order tended to their guests and brought out refreshments and feed.

“...now, because I don’t trust what’s going around Orismuth lately…” Two men exited the Catechy, deep in conversation. “I’ve brought five of the…Danaeifard Armsmen with me. Now, us Sansuignors don’t get the best of training around here, but they are definitely able to bring you - and that Custodian - to safety if needed.” Navras stopped, pointing at the other man’s clothing. “And…why are you dressed like some…villager?”

From under the cloak that he was wearing, Roland scowled. “Its…for staying concealed. To avoid getting attacked.” Under the hood, a simple outfit of a brown shirt and dull beige pants made from dull cotton covered him, with the only thing indicating who he truly was being his sling bag and glasses, both of which were covered conviently by the overall cloak. The rough material that it had been made from was causing some discomfort, and as a result, Roland couldn’t help but walk a little clumsily.

Navras coughed to the side, barely suppressing a snicker. “So…what about the Sovereign Watch?

“I think we should still get them to come along, at least.” Roland replied, messily reaching behind to scratch his back, the itch aggravated by the clothes. “I can go and ask th-”

“No.” Navras shook his head, moving to block Roland. “The Watch don’t take orders from any random Mates, especially when they are wearing…” the Lembass sniffed, looking Roland up and down, “...peasant garb. I can more likely convince them.”

“Shouldn’t they be…willing to help, since they are watching…me?”

“Oh no,” Navras’s tone turned sour, his voice sounding like someone who had a few too many experiences with the subject. “They are the Sovereign Watch, not the city guard of Orismuth - they take no orders from none other than the Weltzens and they are very proud of that fact.”

“Okay,” Roland replied, disappointed. “Thanks,”

Navras simply sighed, merely walking off to where the two armoured Watchmen were sitting. As for Roland, he continued walking onwards to the main courtyard of the Catechy, where a group of Sansuignors and a few of the Order were waiting.

As he began to climb his horse - who was being tended to by a parisher - he suddenly heard a conversation going animated. Spinning around, he saw Navras and the Watchmen, one of whom had stood up, talking animatedly with the Sansuignor even as he towered over the latter. Yet, Navras did not back down, continuing to make animated gestures of appeal and frustration, until, finally, the Watch relented with a nod.

While Navras began to stomp back, Roland clumsily mounted his horse, failing the first few attempts, not helped by the clothes that he was wearing. Finally succeeding on the fifth try, he turned his steed around, facing an all too grumpy Navras.

“Will they come?”

“Oh, they will,” Navras, said, mounting his own pony with some annoyance. “They were very unwilling, however. Blasted, pumped up brutes…”

“Ready?” Custodian Ris, himself also on a horse of his own, trotted over. Navras’s expression didn’t improve, quickly moving to put some distance betwen him and the acolyte.

“Yes.” Roland looked back, seeing the two armoured guards carefully mount - with the assistance of a few of the Order’s stablehands - and carefully hang their polearms and shields. “We…just have to wait for the Sovereign Watch to be ready…”

Soon, the Watchmen trotted up to the group, their halberds attached to the sides of their horses. Some haggling occurred between the three different groups, and after a while, they formed a sort of formation - the two Sovereign Watchmen riding ahead and behind, while Roland was surrounded by the five Sansuignor men-at-arms, with Custodian Ris and Navras riding beside him.

As the formation set off, Roland grimaced a little. This feels awkward…as if this is a procession and I’m the leader… Not helping were that Ris and Navras weren’t exactly tolerant of each other’s presence, only mitigated by the fact that Roland rode in between them.

“You know, it’s been a while since we last met, Navras,” Roland said, trying to break the monotony of the ride. “Other than the construction of the engine, how…have you been?”

“The same as always, Outsider.” The Sansuignor almost seemed to be rolling his eyes. “Managing men, trying to balance the scales of gold and silver…and not enough time spent smithing or forging.” He looked back at Roland. “Why the question, though?”

“Ah…” Roland shook his head. “I was just wondering…you know, since it’s been awhile.” Roland looked away, trying to think of how to continue the conversation. “Actually…speaking of which, I’m surprised that you all built the engine so fast.”

“Never say the Danaeifards cannot make with haste,” Navras beamed proudly, “Of course, if we are to be honest,” The Lembass leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “The problems with the Pit had been plaguing us for a long time. So, when we came to Mallebrium, asked, and you came back to us with the plans…” Navras shrugged. “Back then, I told you that it would be an inspiration for us all. I honestly underestimated that.”

“Really? How come?”

“Hristomver’s arse, we haven’t had something like this for a very, long time.” Navras replied with a tinge of melancholy. “I don’t know if you know, but the work that we’ve been taking on for a long time is…petty work, really meaningless. That damn treaty,” the Lembass scowled, clenching one tight fist, “and us being pushed out by the Five Kingdoms making their own smiths and guilds means times are hard. A lot of our best craftsmen are almost constantly nomading between the cities, and the way they get taken advantage of for their skill is…” Navras shook his head.

“So, with the engine…you were able to get everyone on your clan back to work on it?

“More than that…'' A smile slowly crept across Navras’s face. “I might daresay we’ve been inspired by it. The Elders brought out their coffers of coin, men returned to work on it…having been coordinating these efforts, its refreshing to see, that for the first time in many findrielpulz, the sons of Zorbruk working together for something that we could call our own.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“Of course, I just hope it doesn’t just end there,” Navras replied, the smile fading away as quickly as it came. “As much as we have a backup plan…I rather we keep this going. There’s so much we can do with the steam engine.”

“You mean, you have plans for expanding it?”

“We’ve some ideas,” Navras said, making a side eye at Custodian Ris. “Obviously, we can’t discuss it right here, but…if we can complete it, and make it work, we can hopefully expand on it, build it on other mines, or…” He raised his arms high and wide. “You understand what I mean, do you?”

“We could very much help you, if you so wish.” Custodian Ris, who was very much aware of the conversation beside him, raised his voice to add. “Organising a few contracts or arrangements for your clan is something we can perform.”

“I wish for you to not interrupt us!” Navras shouted back, a little to Roland’s chagrin. “Now, such a thing is more of a hypothetical…” he turned back to Roland, an entrepreneuring gleam in his eye, “...but if our ability to expand comes true, I would invite you to join us as an honorary member of Clan Danaeifard. We could do great work that would benefit both the clan and you. What say you?”

“I don’t know,” Roland said warily, “It's a nice offer, but I need to balance it with my…existing commitments.” Heck, I’m still deciding what to do after university!

“A busy forsumpt, aren’t you?”

“I mean, what can I say…?”

“Ahahahaha!”

While Navras roared with laughter, the environment began to change, and Roland looked around, as the group trotted on. They had exited the main centre of the city, and now they were at the outskirts, where the tall city walls of Orismuth towered over them, with a watchtower overlooking the western flank of the city. Here, the buildings were sparser, more spread out, and lacking in people. The houses and buildings here, if one were to look through them, were just as devoid of life as well, a sign of the city’s retreat from its limits due to a change of fortunes.

At Custodian’s Ris’s signal, the procession came to a stop in front of a red-tiled house, squatting in between two other two-storied houses.

“This is the place.” The Custodian dismounted. “Mate Outsider, if you may please. Unfortunately, the rest of you will just have to wait outside. Please be patient.”

Navras snorted, but complied. He spoke a command in Zorbrese, and the rest of his entourage began to disperse, taking up positions around the place. Meanwhile, as Roland got off his horse, the Custodian signalled to him to enter the house. Grabbing his sling bag, Roland followed him inside.

With few windows, the interior of the house was dark; the Custodian rectified this by pulling a torch from a holder on the walls; the crystal on its tip began to shine brightly at his touch. Right before the door, a table and chair, with a chained tome attached to the former, sat waiting in front of a wall, covered in dust.

“This place used to service men and women of every birth, and this book would have recorded their comings and goings..” The Custodian explained, pointing to the book “Unfortunately, as times grow hard…”

Shaking his head, he reached behind the table and pulled at something. With a loud grinding noise, from behind the wall, a stone door swung out, inconspicuously hidden.

“Follow me. Quickly.”

Waddling in, the large firar moved quickly for his size. Roland ducked in after him - and not a moment too soon, as the stone door swung back right before him, closing with a heavy thud.

With the Custodian’s torch being the sole source of light, Roland looked into the dark chamber - and saw a drop into a yawning cavern. His heart skipped a beat - until the Custodian moved forward, illuminating a staircase downwards.

“Be careful on the steps; they have not been maintained for some time.”

As Ris navigated the stone steps with practised carefulness, Roland followed him with trepidation, carefully watching each step. Every several steps, the Custodian raised a hand, and a crystal torch flared up on the right side, making the staircase at least visible. With the bluish light of the torches, Roland relaxed - only to freeze again when he felt something cracking under his foot.

“Shit.” He muttered, grabbing to the wall for purchase. Letting his heart palpitate for a few moments, Roland moved more cautiously, trying to catch up to the Custodian.

While waiting for the Outsider, Ris was examining a doorway carved into the subterranean stone. Within the doorway itself, a stone slab sat, with a line split down its exact middle, with various inscriptions written on it, sitting above a crest - five six-pointed stars, aligned over the Stave of Colsumbri.

“Please hold this.” Holding the torch to Roland, the Custodian busied himself with something on the right side of the passageway.

“What…” taking the torch, Roland proceeded to shine it over the inscriptions and crest. “Are these?”

“Those? They are the sayings of the Thrersolnia Exvellius - the Offices of the Sages, the servants to the Old Council.” Ris replied, still busy with whatever he was doing. “To Teach and Learn, to Judge and Protect, and to Preserve Strovia Above All.” He recited, with a touch of wistfulness.

Less saying, more of a pledge, methinks. Roland reflected. Almost like what I used to do at school…

“I’m done.”

There was a glow of aetherial light, as Ris raised his left arm to the slab, a glyph shining from his outstretched palm. With the noise of wood grinding against each other, the slabs began to separate, excruciatingly slowly and inch by inch. After almost a minute, the slabs finally completely exposed the entire doorway, grinding to a halt.

The custodian clicked his fingers again, and a complex glyph of three circles arranged on a triangular formation appeared on command. As it began to spin, the room was slowly illuminated by the myriad formations of crystals…

…revealing rows upon rows of shelves, each of them containing scrolls, tomes, or wooden boxes holding miscellaneous scraps or fragments of once whole books. Roland looked up, spotting the complex, carefully welded metal chandeliers above held the large crystallight formations, as well as the capped ventilation shafts allowing air into the room. Behind the shelves, a few stone tables with accompanying wooden chairs stood waiting, for whoever needed to use them.

The artificial crystal light bathed the underground oasis of knowledge with an almost ascendant feeling, as if the unnaturallness of it all was deliberately invoked to lull any visitors into a trance of understanding.

“Welcome, to the Archive of Sage Thremis.” Finally turning to Roland, Custodian Ris held out his hands into the room in a grandiose gesture. “One of our finest holdings, with the great shame that we could not keep it open for more scholars to see.”

“Impressive.” Roland looked around, nodding as his eyes darted around, taking it in.

“Perhaps, might I ask…compared to the libraries on Earth,” the Custodian asked, cautiously, “It must compare favourably, right?”

“Eh…” Roland looked around, not sure how to answer the question without sounding insulting. “Well, our libraries…are, uh, magnificent, but for us,” the Outsider made sure to phrase each and every word in Strovian as carefully as he could, “But for you, ah…it is an impressive creation nonetheless!”

“I see.” Ris nodded, his expression inscrutable, “Please follow me, we should be able to find the manuscripts very quickly.”

The Custodian walked in, and Roland followed closely behind. Weaving around the shelves - which were labelled according to the Strovian alphabet - they walked a zigzag path through the cramped spaces between.

"Vrize...Vrize…" the Custodian whispered, before coming in front of a certain wooden box, filled with an assortment of twelve scrolls carefully stacked within. "This should be it."

Grabbing the whole box with a grunt, Ris walked back to the center of the room, to one of the carved stone tables. While Roland waited at the side, placing the torch he was carrying on the table, the Custodian placed the box on the table, but did not begin rummaging through its contents, instead slipping his hands into his robes and retrieving a pair of gloves, made out of a black silken material.

“What are those?”

“Warding gloves,” Ris replied, slipping the gloves on, before clasping his hands together. “Wrifen-Driel, guide me to the passage of knowledge.” He whispered, in a deeper voice.

With the incantation - or prayer - a few of the silken threads lit up, forming a seal.

“Some of the items in our archives have certain…charms on them,” Noticing Roland’s confused expression, Ris explained as he pulled the box towards him, “that we cannot break or disassemble, as they would hurt the integrity of the work of perservation, but can be troublesome to deal with.”

As if it was on cue, the Custodian pulled one of the scrolls from the box - and almost immediately a rasping sound could be heard from it. Three circular seals began to burn a bright orange on its side, popping oof in quick succession, and as Roland yelled in surprise, they began to glow and crackle unstably -

- only for Ris’s glove to pulse, and the seals to flicker and die, aetherial energies drained from them by the glove. Its silken threads glowed with the stolen energy, only to disperse them in a shimmer of inert glittering.

Roland, who had retreated from the table in alarm, hands above his head, looked back to Ris, who was already unrolling the scroll.

“Some warning would have been nice,” Roland replied, grumpily returning to the table. “...but do you actually remember every single scroll and its contents?”

“We have markings on the various scrolls for identification.” Ris showed the top of the scroll’s rolling piece, where a piece of parchment with various symbols on it had been attached to it via wax. “But regarding Vrize’s work…I’m quite familiar with what the Thinker has made. As one of the figures of Strovia that I have found inspiration from...studying his work has been one of the greater interests of my short life.”

He placed the scroll on the table. On it, accompanying a long treatise written in small, careful handwriting, was a drawing of a crystal, which had a centrepiece of brass hammered with it and engraved with specific symbols, which the drawing had sketched the instructions to stencil and prepare in careful detail.

“This…is it,” Ris remarked, nodding with reverence. “I think…” He suddenly leaned, walking off with a speed that seemed beyond his bulk. “Wait one moment, Mate Outsider.”

The Custodian scurried off, to a pair of metal doors that could be seen at the back of the large room. Meanwhile, Roland began to take a look at the scroll itself, gingerly touching it in fear of triggering some sort of additional trap. With the faded words and the old dialect, it took a while for him to be able to piece some sort of meaning from the parchment.

Ah…so it collects aetherial energy passively from its surroundings when left out, and then someone can just toss it in a kettle and let it boil the water. But…I dunno if it will work in a steam engine…wait.

Alongside the margins of the parchment, Roland noticed a name, acting as a sort of signature. It had been faded, as if someone had tried to remove it, but had given up halfway through.

This masterpiece was concocted by…Danae…ifard?

A door closed, and Roland saw Ris coming back in, holding an item. As the Custodian got closer, Roland realised that the item that he was holding was the very crystal on the parchment.

“Wrifen-Driel truly is smiling upon us - our back-archives turned out to have the very crystal mentioned.” Ris placed the dull crimson crystal on the table, its unnatural colour emphasized by the crystallight. “I suppose that’s what we came for, right?”

“Yeah…” Roland looked back at the parchment with a frown. “Just curious, but…do you know if Vrize had a Sansuignor assistant?”

Ris frowned. “Not that I know of-”

There was a sudden rumble, and the chandelier above them began to shake.

“What just happened?” Roland asked.

A second rumble came, this time shaking even further and causing dust to fall. The expression on Ris’s face suddenly turned grim, as he held out a palm and checked a ward.

“The archives are being breached.” The Custodian declared.