Chương 192: Chapter 51: One Pilgrim at a Time

Resigned, yet with the determination that had become her second skin, Selena prepared for the journey. A few days later, as the first light of dawn painted the cobblestones of Kaelburg in gold, she was already boarding the carriage alongside Fjora and Samira. The months that followed were quieter than any she could recall since her arrival in Erabergh. Since the route from Kaelburg to the capital of Erabergh was exclusive territory of the crown, the Royal Road was a well-guarded and meticulously maintained artery.

No bandits attacked them; the frequent presence of royal patrols and the constant flow of commerce deterred opportunists. The inns along the route were cleaner and better supplied than those on secondary roads, precisely because the commercial and bureaucratic lifeblood of the realm flowed through here. When they finally arrived in the capital, the imposing silhouette of the royal palace rose before them a fortress of pale stone and slender towers that spoke of millennia of power and continuity.

At the great main gate, beneath the impassive gaze of guards wearing the livery of the dune felis holding a sword in its jaws, Selena presented the "Acendrar" ring a name she had given it in private. Yet here, at the threshold of supreme power, that polished bronze ring bearing Volg-Thûr inscriptions carried a very different weight. It was the tangible, recognizable symbol of one of her many titles: Protector of Ancient Artifacts.

The soldier in command, a veteran with a weathered gaze, bowed his head upon recognizing it and guided them directly to the King's private waiting chamber. The directive, as Selena recalled from His Majesty's letter, was clear: upon presenting that symbol, her audience would take priority. Selena waited in the sumptuous waiting room alongside Fjora and Samira, who remained in observant silence.

This time, unlike her first visits laden with nervousness, Selena did not sample the exquisite sweets arranged on silver trays. Her appetite had closed beneath the weight of expectations and the multiple fronts she had to address. Later, the royal steward a young man with faultless gestures and a voice smooth as silk ushers her into the monarch's private study.

There, seated in one of the deep violet velvet armchairs within that single-piece marble-clad room that felt at once familiar and oppressive, Selena let out a sigh. The sound barely reverberated in the polished vastness of the chamber. Immediately following that sigh, the tall carved wooden doors swung open soundlessly, and His Majesty Thaerón IV Volgthar entered. The man had changed slightly since their last encounter.

His eyes no longer carried that look of weary resignation, that weight of shared failure from the dungeon. Now his gaze was clearer, more direct, though no less impenetrable. He sat in the central armchair larger and raised higher and spoke, his voice filling the room with natural, measured authority. —Selena of Solendra. You are coming for Eliud's book, The Imaginary and the Understanding of Echo, by virtue of your granted title, and I cannot refuse you. Even less so to a member of the Circle of Wisdom.

—He paused, his grey eyes fixed upon her, then delicately sampled a sweet before continuing— Although I expected you much sooner. The letter was dispatched nearly a year ago, as I recall. Stolen story; please report. He looked at her slowly and heavily, evaluating her. Selena noticed it, and Thaerón continued. —I presume you were occupied with the written touch, with your studies... and with other explorations. In my meeting with Isolde, she adamantly refused to teach you the written path.

—He closed his eyes for a moment, as if recalling an intense argument, and inhaled deeply before opening them again— She argued repeatedly that she did not wish to see you die in such a gruesome manner, and that your presence, with your peculiar... background, could prove dangerous to the university's controlled environment. The countess was surprised, yet she maintained her poker face. Nonetheless, a shadow of what might have been irony crossed the monarch's face. —Yet it is a risk I am willing to take.

I know that your being both noble and Resonant... is an omen. Just as Eliud was, and I believe, Selena, in the signs our realm occasionally sends. —He picked up a fine porcelain cup resting on a side table and took a sip of tea with a gesture both mundane and deliberately measured— As for access to the original tome, you must understand clearly that only someone with your exact titles could request it. Even so, you will be watched at all times.

I shall not grant you immediate access; I myself must escort you to where we safeguard it. He sighed a sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries of secrets. —It is genuinely important. Not merely for the legacy, nor for history. It possesses... other qualities. —He said "qualities" while making a subtle yet deliberate gesture, adjusting the collar of his heavy royal cloak embroidered with gold and silver threads— It is scheduled for three days from now. Furthermore, you must go alone.

As you might already surmise, certain places admit only one pilgrim at a time. Selena looked him straight in the eyes without lowering her gaze. —Eliud's book is an outstanding debt, that much is true. And yes, I was occupied. The ruin of Ashkharum, for instance, yielded an unexpected surprise. —With a fluid motion, she slid the black stone ring off the middle finger of her left hand. The opaque band absorbed the light of the room without reflecting any shine— The artifact is with me.

My perception of the Void led me directly to it, through frozen water and darkness. The poor priest, a miserable man, died attempting to save his people from a curse he himself forged by entangling the arcane paths. She let the ring turn slowly between her fingers. —A true tragedy. I know that you, Your Majesty, investigated the site following my report. Yet since I am the Guardian of Ancient Artifacts, and fate guided me directly to this...

—Her voice assumed a measured yet firm tone, implying her meaning with a clarity that left no room for misunderstanding— I do not believe I should part with it to hand it over to the crown. Do you? Thaerón did not flinch. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. —You will have to try harder than that if you want such a tactic to work against other courtiers, but it is true. The artifact, having been recovered by you in the execution of your duties and being of such a...

personal nature, should remain with its owner. A Resonant and their tool share a unique bond. —He took another sip of tea and continued, his tone shifting slightly— Is there anything else you require? It was clear as the morning light across a desert: Thaerón viewed her as an apprentice at the board. So much so that a feeling bloomed in her chest and tightened around her heart that feeling was resignation. Only after meditating upon, it in a second of silence did her mind know what to do next.