Chapter 62: A Mark Behind the Wall
The corridor outside Mason’s chambers suddenly felt colder.
Draca stood in the doorway holding the folded document while several guards waited farther down the hall.
Nobody looked relaxed.
That alone told Mason everything he needed to know.
He stepped aside.
"Come in."
Draca entered immediately.
The commander placed the document on a nearby table.
Mason closed the door behind him.
"What exactly happened?"
Draca unfolded the paper.
A rough sketch appeared.
The symbol.
The same circle.
The same intersecting lines.
The same markings surrounding the center.
Mason felt his stomach tighten.
"Where did you find it?"
"A maintenance tunnel."
That wasn’t the answer he expected.
"A maintenance tunnel?"
Draca nodded.
"One of the palace workers reported loose stone behind a damaged section of wall. The symbol was carved underneath."
Athlian immediately became alert.
Mason felt it through the soul connection.
Unease.
Fear.
Confusion.
Far stronger than before.
"When was it discovered?"
"Less than an hour ago."
Mason frowned.
"How old is it?"
"We don’t know."
Of course they didn’t.
The palace seemed determined to answer every question with ten more.
Draca’s expression remained serious.
"The carving wasn’t recent."
"You’re sure?"
"Very."
That was somehow worse.
If it wasn’t recent then it meant the symbol had been hidden inside the palace long before the Witness investigation began.
Long before the journal was discovered.
Long before anyone started asking questions.
Mason sat heavily on a nearby chair.
"Who knows?"
"Zereth."
"Naturally."
"A few trusted investigators."
"Less naturally."
Draca almost smiled.
"The tribunal envoy does not know."
That surprised him.
"Zereth didn’t tell her?"
"No."
Interesting.
The immortal investigator was becoming increasingly selective with information.
A dangerous habit.
Possibly a necessary one.
Mason rubbed his forehead.
The headache threatening him since the archive discovery returned immediately.
"I assume we’re going there."
"We are."
"Wonderful."
"It isn’t."
"Glad we’re in agreement."
Twenty minutes later they were moving through sections of the palace Mason rarely visited.
Most nobles never saw these areas.
The decorative corridors had disappeared long ago.
No expensive statues.
No luxurious carpets.
No stained-glass windows.
Only stone.
Practical architecture.
Servants occasionally passed them carrying supplies.
Several looked nervous after noticing the increased guard presence.
Rumors were spreading again.
The palace practically survived on rumors.
Eventually they reached a heavily guarded intersection.
Zereth stood waiting.
The immortal looked exhausted.
Again.
Mason wondered if anyone in the palace had slept properly during the last month.
"Tell me you found something useful."
Zereth considered the request.
"No."
Mason sighed.
"At least you’re honest."
The immortal gestured toward a narrow stairwell.
"This way."
They descended several levels.
The deeper they traveled, the quieter everything became.
The palace sounds gradually faded.
Conversation above.
Footsteps.
Distant activity.
All of it disappeared.
Only silence remained.
Athlian’s discomfort continued increasing.
Mason felt her emotions clearly.
She disliked this place.
Very much.
Unfortunately she still wasn’t explaining why.
The maintenance tunnel finally appeared ahead.
Several lanterns illuminated the area.
Workers had already cleared debris away from part of the wall.
The moment Mason saw it, he stopped walking.
The symbol had been carved directly into stone.
Not painted.
Not scratched.
Carved deeply and permanently.
The lines looked ancient.
Weathered.
As if they had existed for centuries.
Nobody spoke immediately.
The atmosphere felt strangely oppressive.
Mason stepped closer.
Something about the symbol bothered him.
Not because it looked threatening.
Because it felt familiar.
Dangerously familiar.
Like a word sitting at the edge of memory.
Athlian suddenly inhaled sharply.
Inside his mind.
A reaction so sudden that Mason nearly stumbled.
"Athlian?"
No answer.
Only shock.
Pure shock.
Zereth noticed his expression immediately.
"What’s wrong?"
"Nothing."
The response came too quickly.
The immortal’s eyes narrowed.
Mason pretended not to notice.
A survival technique he had perfected months ago.
One of the investigators approached.
The elderly scholar carried several notes.
"We found something unusual."
Mason resisted the urge to laugh.
Everything was unusual.
The man pointed toward the surrounding stone.
"Look carefully."
Several lanterns were repositioned.
Shadows shifted.
Then Mason finally saw it.
Additional markings.
Tiny ones.
Almost invisible.
They surrounded the symbol.
Rows of faded text.
Words.
Ancient words.
Draca frowned.
"I thought the wall was damaged."
"It is."
The scholar nodded.
"Most of the inscription has been destroyed."
Zereth folded his arms.
"Can you translate it?"
The scholar hesitated.
Not a promising sign.
"Partially."
"How partial?"
The man winced.
"Very."
Mason knew that answer well.
After a few moments the scholar carefully read from his notes.
"’...those who remember...’"
Silence.
"’...when records change...’"
More silence.
"’...the witness remains...’"
Then nothing.
The remaining text had been destroyed.
Nobody looked pleased.
The words matched the journal too closely.
Far too closely.
Draca studied the damaged wall.
"So the Witnesses were here."
"Possibly."
Zereth emphasized the word.
Again.
Nobody wanted assumptions becoming facts.
Not anymore.
The scholar cleared his throat.
"There is one more detail."
Of course there was.
The old man looked uncomfortable.
Almost reluctant.
"We believe this section predates the current palace."
Mason blinked.
"What?"
"The foundation stones are older."
Much older.
The implications settled heavily over the room.
This wasn’t merely hidden inside the palace.
The palace had been built over it.
Someone had covered it.
Buried it.
Concealed it.
Then forgotten it.
Or pretended to forget.
Neither possibility felt reassuring.
Athlian finally spoke.
Her voice sounded distant.
’Someone wanted it hidden.’
Mason frowned internally.
"You know that?"
’I don’t know.’
Of course.
’I just... feel it.’
That bothered him more than certainty would have.
Hours passed.
Investigators examined every inch of the tunnel.
Additional records were requested.
More scholars arrived.
More theories emerged.
None answered the important questions.
By afternoon Mason’s patience had nearly collapsed.
He escaped outside before someone handed him another stack of ancient documents.
The palace gardens were becoming his preferred hiding place.
Unfortunately Draca found him there again.
At this point Mason had accepted it as inevitable.
The commander sat beside him without speaking.
Neither felt the need to fill every silence anymore.
That realization bothered Mason.
A little.
More than a little.
Draca eventually glanced toward him.
"You look tired."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it’s true."
Rude.
Accurate.
But rude.
Mason leaned back against the bench.
For several moments they watched servants moving through the gardens.
Normal activity.
Normal conversations.
Normal lives.
It felt strangely distant lately.
Finally Mason spoke. "Do you ever think we’re looking in the wrong direction?"
Draca looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"The Witnesses."
The commander listened quietly.
Mason continued.
"Everyone keeps asking who they were."
"That’s reasonable."
"Maybe."
He stared toward the flowers.
"Maybe the better question is why someone still cares."
Draca didn’t answer immediately.
The silence itself felt like agreement.
Eventually the commander nodded.
"Someone is afraid."
"Exactly."
"The theft."
"The hidden symbol."
"The missing records."
Draca’s expression darkened slightly.
"They aren’t protecting history."
"No."
Mason looked toward the palace.
"They’re protecting a secret."
Neither liked that conclusion.
Because it felt correct.
Far too correct.
The conversation ended when a messenger approached.
The young servant looked nervous.
"My goddess."
Mason immediately became suspicious.
"What now?"
The servant swallowed.
"Lord Assura requests an audience."
Draca frowned.
Mason groaned.
The servant looked confused.
Reasonable reaction.
Most people didn’t groan when summoned by an immortal.
Mason wasn’t most people.
Assura was waiting in one of the smaller palace courtyards.
Alone.
Which somehow felt suspicious.
Everything about him felt suspicious.
The immortal watched the fountain calmly as Mason approached.
Without turning around he spoke.
"You found the symbol."
Mason stopped walking.
"Who told you?"
Assura finally looked at him.
Amusement flickered briefly across his face.
"Nobody."
That wasn’t reassuring.
Not remotely.
The immortal’s gaze drifted toward the evening sky.
"The Witnesses understood something important."
"There it is."
Assura raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"The mysterious statement."
The immortal laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Which somehow felt even more dangerous.
Mason crossed his arms.
"If you’re going to say something cryptic, at least make it useful."
Assura considered that.
Then, surprisingly, his smile faded.
For the first time all day, the immortal looked serious.
"The danger was never what they recorded."
Mason’s attention sharpened.
Assura continued quietly.
"The danger was who kept trying to erase it."
A chill ran down Mason’s spine.
Before he could ask another question, Assura stepped back.
The moment was gone.
The cryptic immortal returned.
"I suggest you sleep lightly tonight."
Mason frowned. "Why?"
Assura’s eyes briefly shifted toward the palace.
Toward the distant towers.
Toward the hidden symbol buried beneath stone.
Then he smiled.
"Because someone else has started searching."
And for the first time since the investigation began, Mason had the distinct feeling they were no longer the only people hunting for answers.
