Darian was the first to speak once the three of them had fully stepped into the hidden chamber.

"I haven’t touched anything in this room," he said. "I left it exactly as it was. We can search whatever we want. As you can see, there are even bloodstains left on the table where Icarus carried out his experiments."

Trafalgar let his attention move across the room once more. Shelves, papers, vials, tools, restraints, dust that had not been disturbed in a long time, and that ugly table with its chains still fixed in place as if the room had refused to forget what had happened there.

"Fine," he said. "Then we may as well get to work and see whether this place kept anything useful."

Darian gave a short nod.

Without another word, the room divided itself between them.

Trafalgar went first toward the tables nearest the chains, where the intelligent void creature had most likely been restrained. Darian took the shelves on the left side of the chamber. Caelum moved to the opposite end and began checking the right side with the cold efficiency he seemed capable of applying to absolutely anything.

Paper after paper passed through Trafalgar’s hands.

Some were stained. Others half-torn. Some covered in calculations, mixtures, trial notes, and symbols he didn’t recognize at all. He kept reading what he could, discarding what meant nothing, separating anything that might prove relevant from anything that looked like failed attempts or useless debris.

For a while it felt like rummaging through the remains of another man’s obsession.

And then Trafalgar stopped.

His fingers tightened slightly around one particular sheet.

The symbols covering it were unfamiliar to most people.

They were not unfamiliar to him.

Or rather, not entirely.

’Wait... I’ve seen this before.’

He lowered the page just enough to read it again.

Yes.

He had seen writing like this before, and more importantly, he knew someone who might be able to read it if given enough time.

’Bartholomew.’

Trafalgar remained where he was, holding the sheet while another question took shape almost immediately after that one.

’Do I trust Barth with this?’

That was the real issue.

Because giving these papers to Bartholomew would not be a small thing. It would not be some harmless favor between friends, some academic inconvenience, some dusty translation problem pulled from a forgotten archive. If Barth read this, if he truly worked through it and understood what stood in these notes, then he would step farther into Trafalgar’s world than he ever had before.

After that, there would be no clean distance left.

Not really.

Trafalgar had already thought recently that Bartholomew should stay close to him in the future, that he should be cultivated, strengthened, placed near him when the time came. That part was simple, even convenient, but usefulness and involvement were not the same thing. Once Barth read something like this, he would stop being merely a trusted friend from the academy. He would become part of the hidden current moving under Trafalgar’s life.

Trafalgar stayed silent for a moment longer.

’I suppose it’s time.’

He exhaled quietly through his nose and folded the page once, carefully.

’We’ve already gone through enough together. And if anyone can keep his mouth shut while doing real work, it’s him.’

His thoughts moved again.

’Besides... this doesn’t look like Icarus’s hand.’

He studied the symbols one more time.

’Could the void creature have written this?’

That possibility did not feel impossible. It was strange and unsettling, but not impossible.

Trafalgar finally spoke aloud, and both men elsewhere in the chamber turned toward him.

"Do either of you understand this?"

He raised the sheet and showed it first toward Darian, then to Caelum.

Darian crossed the distance first, took one glance, and shook his head. "No."

Caelum stepped closer as well, studied the writing for a few seconds, and said, "I recognize the style of it more than the content. I can’t read it."

Trafalgar folded the sheet again and slipped it inside his coat.

"I’ll take this with me," he said. "I know someone who can read this and tell us whether it hides anything worth keeping."

Darian accepted that immediately. "Understood." His voice remained careful, respectful, properly measured. "I would appreciate it if you informed me once you know what it says. If you would."

Trafalgar almost smiled at how cautious that had been.

"We’re together in this," he said. "I’m not interested in keeping a tight leash on my subordinates. Caelum can tell you that if you need proof."

Caelum answered before Darian could.

"It’s true. Those who earn the Young Master’s trust can be certain of two things. He will not betray them, and he will stand behind them." His tone did not change in the slightest as he added, "As for his enemies, he has already provided a clear example through his brother."

Darian held that answer well.

"Don’t worry," he said. "I have no intention of being a fool. I intend to earn that trust."

He turned back toward one of the nearer worktables and picked up a small vial between two fingers.

"Look at this."

Trafalgar stepped over, and Caelum joined them.

Inside the vial, only a small amount of thick yellowish liquid remained, clinging to the glass with a density that made it clear this had never been a simple solution.

"There are still traces left here of the World Tree sap from the Sylvanel," Darian said. "And residues from things taken from their sanctuaries. This is part of what Icarus used for something."

Trafalgar turned to Caelum. "Do you know what it was for?"

Caelum extended one hand calmly.

Darian passed him the vial with care. Caelum lifted it toward the light, studying the liquid through the glass before uncorking it slightly and testing the scent with obvious restraint.

"It’s what Darian said, or close enough to it. World Tree sap from the Sylvanel, mixed with something else. I can’t name the rest from smell alone." He lowered the vial slightly. "If we find the right document, that will be far more useful than guessing."

Trafalgar stared at him for a second.

’How much does Caelum know, and how long has he had time to know it?’

It was a fair question, but not one worth asking here.

So instead, he simply said, "Then we search."

The three of them spread out again.

This time Trafalgar paid more attention to nearby pages tied to the vials and worktables, while Darian combed through another shelf stacked with ledgers and loose papers that had been jammed together carelessly. Caelum kept moving through the right side of the room, precise as ever, gathering and discarding with that same unnerving lack of wasted motion.

Darian stopped at one shelf, pulled a page free, and crossed the room with it.

"I have one."

He crossed over and handed the page to Caelum.

Caelum took it, read through it in silence, and by the time he finished, his expression had not changed at all. Which, in his case, only made the answer more unpleasant.

"It seems a major alchemist was involved in making this."

Trafalgar’s face hardened.

"Hm. That’s not good." He turned toward Darian. "Do you know anything about that?"

Darian shook his head. "Honestly, no. My father was the only one conscious while Icarus put the rest of my family into a coma through that disease. If anyone knew more, it would have been him."

Trafalgar clicked his tongue softly.

"Hm... I may ask someone whether they know who could make something like this." He tapped the page once. "I’ll take this too and have it looked at."

"Of course," Darian said.

Before anything else could be added, Caelum spoke again from a little farther away.

"I’ve found something you should read, Young Master."