Chapter 56: The Chamber That Shouldn’t Exist
The report remained open between Mason and Draca.
The empty chamber somehow felt more troubling than if guards had discovered something inside it.
Because an empty room meant someone had known where to look.
Someone had arrived first.
Someone was already ahead of them.
Mason slowly lowered the document.
"How long ago was it found?"
"This evening," Draca answered.
"And the chamber was definitely hidden?"
"Completely."
That wasn’t encouraging.
Mason stood from the couch.
Athlian had gone quiet again.
Not frightened.
Thinking.
Which usually produced its own problems.
"Who knows about it?"
"Very few people."
Draca folded his arms.
"The guards involved were isolated immediately."
"Good."
The commander raised an eyebrow.
"You sound disappointed."
"I was hoping for one problem instead of three."
A faint smile appeared on Draca’s face.
"Unreasonable expectations."
"Apparently."
The smile lingered briefly before fading.
Mason noticed something.
Draca wasn’t looking at him normally.
Just... studying him.
The commander had been doing that more often lately.
And Mason wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Actually, he knew exactly how he felt.
Nervous.
Athlian noticed immediately. ’You’re overthinking again.’
"I’m always thinking."
’Not like this.’
He ignored her.
Draca cleared his throat.
"The chamber will be examined tomorrow morning."
"Which means we’re going."
"Of course."
"Wonderful."
The commander left shortly afterward.
Mason remained staring at the closed door.
Then a thought resurfaced.
One that had been bothering him for weeks.
Actually longer.
The next morning arrived far too quickly.
He hated mornings.
The palace seemed determined to schedule every important discovery before sunrise.
A conspiracy.
The only logical explanation.
The hidden chamber sat beneath one of the damaged archive wings.
Additional guards blocked every entrance.
Several archivists stood nearby arguing about preservation methods.
Naturally.
Nothing united scholars faster than disagreements.
Draca waited near the stairwell.
Zereth stood beside him.
The silver-haired immortal looked unusually rested.
Suspiciously rested.
Nobody should look that comfortable this early.
"Mason."
The name escaped before Draca seemed aware he had spoken.
The moment immediately froze.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Draca blinked.
Zereth glanced between them.
Mason stared.
There it was again.
That name.
The one Draca occasionally used without thinking.
The one he always avoided explaining.
This time Mason didn’t let it go.
"Why?"
Draca frowned.
"Why what?"
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
Silence followed.
A strange silence.
Because for the first time, Draca genuinely looked caught off guard.
Not defensive.
Confused.
The commander rubbed his temple.
"I don’t know."
Mason narrowed his eyes.
"You don’t know?"
"No."
"That isn’t reassuring."
"It isn’t meant to be."
The answer came immediately.
Honest as usual.
Draca looked frustrated with himself.
"Sometimes the name appears in my thoughts."
Mason’s stomach tightened.
Athlian became completely still.
Draca continued quietly.
"It feels familiar."
"From where?"
"I don’t know."
The answer sounded genuine.
That somehow made everything worse.
Because Draca wasn’t hiding something.
He truly didn’t understand it.
Zereth watched the exchange carefully.
Far too carefully.
Mason immediately changed the subject.
"Right. Hidden chamber."
Draca seemed grateful for the escape.
"Yes."
Nobody mentioned the name again.
But the question remained.
The stairwell descended deeper than expected.
Cold air greeted them.
The lower corridors showed signs of age far beyond the rest of the archive complex.
Ancient stone.
Worn carvings.
Half-erased symbols.
The further they walked, the older everything appeared.
Eventually they reached the chamber.
Mason stopped.
The room wasn’t large.
Actually, it looked disappointingly ordinary.
Stone walls.
Stone floor.
Stone ceiling.
Nothing impressive.
Nothing valuable.
Nothing obvious.
Which somehow made it more unsettling.
"People hid this?" Mason asked.
"Apparently."
Several archivists had already begun examining the walls.
One elderly scholar pointed toward a section of stone.
"There."
Everyone approached.
Mason immediately noticed shallow markings.
Not writing but scratches.
Dozens of them.
Hundreds, maybe.
Like someone had spent years carving tiny symbols into the wall.
Most were damaged.
Many had become unreadable.
A few remained visible.
The elderly archivist adjusted his glasses.
"They aren’t temple script."
"Can you identify them?" Zereth asked.
"Not yet."
Of course not.
Answers remained illegal inside this kingdom.
Mason was becoming increasingly convinced of that fact.
As the examination continued, another discovery appeared.
One of the guards called out from the far side of the room.
"Over here."
Everyone gathered.
The man pointed toward the floor.
A single indentation remained visible beneath centuries of dust.
Rectangular.
Precisely shaped.
Empty.
Something had once rested there.
Something roughly the size of a large chest.
Or a storage case.
Or a coffin.
Mason disliked all three possibilities equally.
"What was taken?" he asked.
Nobody knew.
An increasingly common answer.
Zereth crouched beside the indentation.
His expression darkened.
"It wasn’t removed recently."
That surprised everyone.
"What do you mean?" Draca asked.
"The dust patterns."
The immortal traced the edge carefully.
"Whatever sat here disappeared long before the Heaven Fracture."
Mason frowned.
"Then why hide the chamber?"
"Perhaps somebody forgot it existed."
"No chance."
Athlian finally spoke. ’Someone remembered.’
The certainty in her voice caught his attention.
"How do you know?"
A pause followed.
Then:
’I don’t.’
Not helpful.
The investigation continued for another hour.
Very little emerged.
The chamber raised more questions than answers.
Which felt strangely consistent.
By midday, Mason escaped the archives.
His head hurt again.
A developing trend.
The palace gardens offered temporary relief.
At least until the company arrived.
Predictably.
"Leaving already?"
Zereth stepped onto the pathway beside him.
He resisted sighing.
Barely.
"I’ve seen enough rocks for one day."
The immortal smiled.
"Alright."
They walked together.
The gardens remained mostly empty.
Several servants worked nearby.
Birds moved between flowering trees.
For a few minutes, the atmosphere felt almost normal.
Then Zereth reached out.
His fingers brushed lightly against Mason’s wrist.
The contact lasted only a moment.
But Mason noticed immediately.
So did Athlian.
And unfortunately, so did Zereth.
The immortal’s gaze lingered.
Familiar.
Comfortable.
Dangerously familiar.
Mason stepped away.
Subtle.
But intentional.
Zereth’s expression shifted.
Not hurt but curious.
"There was a time you didn’t move away."
Athlian reacted instantly.
A wave of emotion crossed the soul bridge.
Mason ignored it.
"People change."
"Do they?"
The question carried more meaning than it should have.
Mason didn’t answer.
Zereth studied him quietly.
The man’s observational skills were becoming extremely inconvenient.
Eventually the immortal changed topics.
"The journal bothers you."
"Everything bothers me."
"A specific answer."
"Fine. Yes."
Zereth seemed satisfied.
"The Witnesses bother me too."
That got Mason’s attention.
"Why?"
The immortal looked toward the distant palace.
"Because history shouldn’t disappear so completely."
The statement lingered.
Simple.
Yet unsettling.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Zereth smiled faintly.
"Try not to get into trouble."
"I never get into trouble."
The immortal laughed.
Which felt deeply insulting.
That evening, the palace hosted another political gathering.
Mason considered several methods of escape.
None succeeded.
Apparently gods weren’t permitted to hide beneath furniture during diplomatic functions.
An unfair rule.
The reception hall overflowed with nobles, officials, and temple representatives.
Conversations filled every corner.
Rumors traveled faster than servants.
Several former lovers appeared.
Naturally.
Because peace remained forbidden.
One immediately approached.
The other followed seconds later.
Mason nearly turned around.
Too late.
"My goddess."
The first woman smiled brightly.
The second narrowed her eyes.
Not at Mason.
At the first woman.
Wonderful.
Competition again.
Athlian found it amusing.
A betrayal.
A complete betrayal.
The conversation rapidly devolved into subtle insults disguised as compliments.
Mason endured it with remarkable patience.
Mostly because leaving would attract attention.
Then Draca appeared.
Like divine intervention.
Except significantly more reliable.
Both women immediately became polite.
The transformation was terrifying.
Draca looked confused.
Mason almost felt sorry for him.
The commander approached. "You’re needed."
The lie arrived smoothly.
Mason immediately supported it.
"I am."
Neither woman looked convinced.
Too bad.
They escaped before further questions emerged.
Once safely outside the reception hall, Mason exhaled.
"Thank you."
Draca looked genuinely puzzled.
"For what?"
"You know what."
Realization appeared.
Then amusement.
Dangerous amusement.
"You looked trapped."
"I was trapped."
"By conversation."
"One of history’s greatest threats."
The commander shook his head.
Yet the faint smile returned.
The one Mason had begun noticing more often.
The one that always seemed reserved for private moments.
The realization made something uncomfortable twist inside his chest.
Athlian noticed.
She was becoming insufferable.
Night eventually settled over the palace.
The day had been long.
Exhausting and complicated.
Mason collapsed onto his bed without ceremony.
Athlian remained quiet.
That should have warned him.
Unfortunately, exhaustion won.
Sleep arrived quickly.
Then everything changed.
A familiar sensation pulled at the edges of consciousness.
A shifting feeling.
Movement.
Distance.
Wrongness.
Mason opened his eyes.
Darkness surrounded him.
Not the room.
Not reality.
The internal space.
The place where he sometimes found himself when Athlian moved closer to the surface.
Immediately, he knew something was wrong.
"Athlian."
No answer.
"Athlian."
Silence.
Then realization struck.
She wasn’t there.
Because she wasn’t inside.
She was outside.
Using the body.
Panic surged instantly.
Mason rushed toward the distant connection binding them together.
The soul bridge responded.
Images flashed.
Fragments.
Moonlight.
A balcony.
Silver hair.
Zereth.
Mason froze.
"No."
The next image appeared.
Athlian standing before Zereth.
Close.
Far too close.
The immortal reached for her hand.
And this time... She didn’t pull away.
Mason felt fury explode through him.
"Athlian!"
The connection trembled.
For a brief second, he thought she heard him.
Then another image surfaced.
Zereth touching her cheek.
Athlian closing her eyes.
Not resisting.
Not moving away.
Accepting it.
The vision shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything.
And somewhere beyond the soul bridge...
Athlian finally whispered a single sentence.
One that only made Mason angrier.
’It’s not that simple.’
Then the connection went completely silent.
