Nobody spoke for several seconds.

The chamber remained completely silent as the recovered inventory sheet sat on the table between them.

Mason stared severally at the final line.

Unfortunately, the words refused to change.

The name remained exactly where it had been before.

A name belonging to someone who had supposedly died over a thousand years ago.

"That has to be a mistake." He finally broke the silence.

He preferred mistakes. And mistakes were manageable.

Ancient dead people signing archive records were significantly less manageable.

Zereth looked unconvinced. "I considered that possibility."

"And?"

"The handwriting matches other authenticated records."

Athlian felt uneasy...the emotion drifted through the soul bridge like cold water.

Mason immediately noticed because Athlian was becoming easier to read lately.

That realization carried its own problems.

Seraphine folded her arms. "Who verified the document?"

"The archive keepers."

Zereth’s answer came immediately.

"Three separate reviews."

Nobody looked happier after hearing that.

Draca picked up the inventory sheet.

The commander studied it quietly.

His expression remained calm.

Mason had learned enough about him to recognize concern when he saw it.

"This document was hidden?"

Zereth nodded. "Inside a collapsed ledger vault."

"Recently placed there?"

"We don’t know."

The uncertainty irritated everyone equally.

A rare moment of unity.

One of the ministers cleared his throat.

"If this is authentic, then someone forged access records."

"Perhaps."

Zereth glanced toward him. "Or perhaps someone wanted us to think they did."

The room grew uncomfortable again.

Because unfortunately both possibilities sounded plausible.

Mason hated mysteries.

Correction; he hated living inside mysteries.

Reading about them was fun.

Experiencing them personally was exhausting.

The meeting continued for another hour.

Arguments followed naturally.

Several ministers favored secrecy. Others demanded further investigation.

The Coalition representatives wanted involvement.

The temple delegates wanted restrictions.

Everybody wanted something.

Nobody agreed.

Politics remained remarkably efficient at accomplishing absolutely nothing.

By the time the discussion ended, Mason felt mentally exhausted.

He escaped at the first opportunity.

A tactical retreat.

The palace corridors were quieter than usual.

Most officials remained trapped in meetings. A fate he wished upon nobody.

Well.

As he turned a corner, familiar footsteps approached...Draca’s.

The commander carried a stack of reports under one arm.

Mason immediately felt sorry for him.

Nobody deserved that many reports.

Draca noticed him and slowed. "You disappeared."

"I escaped."

"Same thing."

"Exactly."

A faint smile appeared. Enough to improve Mason’s mood slightly.

The commander fell into step beside him.

For several moments neither spoke.

The comfortable silence returned naturally.

It happens more often these days. Neither seemed inclined to question it.

Eventually Draca spoke. "What do you think about the inventory record?"

Mason sighed. "I think my life would be easier if ancient dead people stopped causing problems."

Draca actually laughed.

The sound surprised both of them.

The commander rarely laughed. When he did, it felt strangely rewarding. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Athlian sighed. ’There it is again.’

Mason ignored her.

Draca shook his head. "You avoid serious questions."

"I will answer them eventually."

"Sometimes."

"Eventually."

The commander accepted that answer with remarkable patience.

Probably because arguing would accomplish nothing.

They reached one of the open balconies overlooking the capital.

Construction crews still filled portions of the city.

Scaffolding covered damaged structures.

Supply caravans moved through the streets.

The kingdom was healing.

Draca rested his arms against the stone railing.

"The people are recovering."

"Mostly."

"They need stability."

Mason looked toward him. "You always say that."

"Because it’s true."

The man’s greatest weapon remained honesty. Which was deeply unfair.

Athlian went suspiciously quiet.

Mason pretended not to notice. The strategy was becoming familiar.

Later that evening, another dream arrived.

This one felt different because it’s sharper and complete.

Mason found himself standing inside an enormous circular chamber.

Golden light illuminated towering pillars.

Countless figures occupied the room.

None of their faces were visible.

Only silhouettes.

The atmosphere felt heavy.

Then somebody spoke.

A woman’s voice.

"The Witnesses have arrived."

The room became silent.

Every figure turned toward the entrance.

Toward someone Mason could not see.

A strange feeling settled over him...the sensation lasted only seconds.

Then the dream shifted and everything shattered.

Light disappeared.

Darkness consumed the chamber.

A distant sound echoed through the void.

Chains...the same chains he had heard before.

The same chains connected to the creature beneath the palace.

Then a second voice emerged.

This one carried sadness and regret.

"The debt cannot remain hidden forever."

Mason woke instantly.

His heart raced.

Moonlight spilled through the windows.

The room remained silent.

Athlian was already awake.

Neither spoke immediately.

Finally Mason broke the silence.

"You heard that."

’Yes.’

He sat upright. "What was that place?"

’I don’t remember.’

The answer sounded genuine. Which somehow worried him more because lately the memory fragments weren’t behaving normally.

Athlian recognized pieces but never the full picture.

Something was blocking her. Or someone.

The following morning brought another surprise.

Mason entered the dining hall expecting peace.

A foolish expectation because several familiar faces were already present.

Draca.

Seraphine.

Zereth.

And unfortunately...two former lovers.

Wonderful. The universe clearly hated him.

The moment he entered, both noticed.

One immediately smiled.

The other folded her arms.

He considered leaving...temporary or Infact permanently.

Both options held appeal.

"My goddess"

The first woman approached immediately, she looked elegant and confident.

Entirely too energetic for this hour.

"You vanished after the reception."

"I enjoy surviving."

She laughed.

Draca looked remarkably interested in his breakfast.

The second woman approached moments later.

"She means you ignored everyone."

"I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Government things."

Neither looked convinced.

The conversation quickly devolved into chaos. Apparently both women had discovered each other’s existence recently.

An unfortunate development.

The resulting competition proved exhausting.

Draca remained completely silent throughout the entire exchange.

Which somehow made everything worse.Because Mason could practically feel the amusement radiating from him.

Athlian found it hilarious...an unforgivable betrayal.

Eventually Seraphine intervened.

"Enough."

Instant silence followed.

One of the former lovers pouted.

The other looked offended.

Peace returned temporarily.

After breakfast, Zereth requested another meeting.

Mason immediately regretted agreeing.

The archive wing remained heavily guarded.

Additional soldiers occupied every entrance.

Several sections had been sealed entirely.

Political pressure continued increasing.

The closer Zereth got to answers, the more resistance appeared.

The silver-eyed immortal led Mason into a small records chamber where stacks of recovered documents covered several tables.

Most looked damaged while some appeared barely readable.

Zereth picked up a particular scroll.

"I found another reference."

Mason sighed. "Of course you did."

"This one mentions the Witnesses directly."

That got his attention immediately.

"What does it say?"

Zereth carefully unfolded the document.

"The text is incomplete."

Everything important in this kingdom was incomplete.

The immortal scanned several lines.

Then read aloud. "’The Witnesses shall remain beyond the crown and temple. Their duty belongs neither to kings nor gods.’"

Silence followed because that statement raised several uncomfortable questions.

Neither kings nor gods.

Meaning independence, authority and influence.

Athlian reacted immediately.

A pulse of memory crossed the soul bridge.

Zereth continued. "’They observe that which must never be forgotten.’"

The sentence lingered.

Mason crossed his arms. "What exactly were they observing?"

"I don’t know."

"You’re becoming frustrating."

"That’s your role."

The conversation continued for nearly an

hour.

Most of the evidence remained fragmented. Yet a pattern was emerging.

The Witnesses had been important. And someone had worked very hard to erase them.

As they prepared to leave, another discovery arrived.

A young archive keeper hurried into the room...breathless and excited.

Never a comforting combination.

"We found something."

Zereth immediately turned. "What?"

The keeper swallowed.

"A hidden compartment."

Within minutes they reached one of the damaged archive chambers.

Several workers stood nearby.

A section of collapsed stone had been cleared away.

Behind it sat a narrow compartment built directly into the wall.

Mason immediately disliked it. Hidden compartments never contained anything pleasant.

A small metal box rested inside...untouched and sealed.

The archive keeper stepped aside.

Zereth approached carefully.

The seal appeared ancient, far older than the surrounding stonework.

Athlian became tense instantly.

The reaction hit Mason like a physical warning.

Zereth broke the seal and the box opened.

Everyone leaned forward.

Inside rested a single item.

Just an old weathered plain leather journal.

The room remained silent.

Zereth carefully lifted it.

The cover contained only three words.

Three simple words. Yet the moment Mason saw them...

Athlian froze completely.

Every emotion vanished.

Every thought disappeared...only shock remained. Because written across the faded cover were the words: Property of the Last Witness.

And when Zereth opened the first page...

a familiar handwriting stared back at them.

Handwriting that matched the impossible name found on the inventory record.

A name belonging to someone who should have been dead for over a thousand years.