Chapter 16 of 20

16. Theories and Presents

Arcane Awakening: The Feral Pact1,757 words~9 min read

Rowan watched as Crow rolled her eyes. “I think the labyrinth is alive,” she said, voice clipped.

“I’m still piecing together how, but the entries—especially about the obsidian mirrors, the reflection walking away—this matches exactly what I saw. I think it’s tied to celestial magic. And I think it has something to do with the dungeon master monster.”

He frowned. “I’ve never seen that book in here. And I’ve rearranged this archive twice.”

She shrugged, but it wasn’t casual. It was tight, guarded. “Maybe it didn’t want you to find it yet.”

Rowan watched as she tucked the journal under her arm, ‘arcstylus’ still faintly glowing in her hand. She started toward the shelves, but—

“Crow, you can’t just break into high-security guild rooms using a magical pen,” he said suddenly, trying to change the subject.

She turned, eyes narrowed like a blade. “Technically, I didn’t break in. I bypassed the glyph through a temporary stasis field using a tool I designed myself. And it’s not a pen.”

The way she said pen nearly made him flinch, but he didn’t back down.

“You drew in the air, froze my personal glyph–that I didn’t even know appeared, mind you–to trick a Class Three locking glyph that’s keyed to individual Codexes, and snuck in behind me. Not only is that breaking in, but if anyone else had tried that—”

“But they couldn't,” she snipped, and it wasn’t defensive. It was exhausted. “Because no one else has spent weeks practicing precise mana flow for this specific tool. Spent hours every night stabilizing their own output just to make sure the glyph doesn’t react too early. No one else would even have this device. It’s not only patented, but it’s the only one in existence right now. Like I said, it’s not some magic pen, Ashford.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

Ashford.

Not Rowan, or Book Boy.

Ashford.

“I didn’t just wave it around and break the rules for fun. I needed to do this. Alone. And Duskbane saw what this stylus does, I don’t know if he’d take it or break it. If he found out I was having nightmares? He’d probably put me on house arrest.”

Her words echoed, and something about the way she said it alone stuck in his chest like a pin. He softened. “But… why do it like this? Why not tell someone? Ask me? Or go through the right channels—”

Crow scoffed, but there was no heat in her eyes, just exasperation.

Holding up the book now sealed with a celestial rune, she spoke.

“Do you really think the guild wants anyone reading this? Rowan, the last person who touched this book, wrote that he watched his reflection walk away from him. I had to find this; it was important. I don’t know why, but it was.”

“I’m not saying it’s not important,” he said quietly. “I just—this kind of thing gets people hunted. You know that, Crow.”

“I am being hunted,” she muttered. “That’s the point.”

The air between them went still.

And then—

BANG.

The door to the archive rattled in its hinges. A voice like a thunderclap followed:

“HEY. OPEN. THE DAMN. DOOR.”

Crow flinched. Rowan sighed, already stepping toward the entrance.

“Guess who realized you weren’t at dinner?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Crow hissed behind him, stylus sparking in her hand. “Buy me thirty seconds.”

“I’ll buy you ten,” Rowan muttered, cracking his knuckles.

Another heavy slam. Then a pause.

Kael’s voice, lower and far more dangerous this time:

“Open up or I'll start using explosions. I can afford to replace this damn door.”

Rowan could hear her retreating—heart pounding, breath shallow—as she vanished between two archive shelves. He turned just as the door glyph flared back to life.

He hesitated. Then unlocked it.

Kael stormed inside like a hurricane on a mission. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Debriefing's in twenty minutes. I still have to find that damn brat. She keeps disappearing after training. She’s lucky she was given the day off.”

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Rowan did his best to stall him, but Kael wasn’t slowing down, though his voice did drop.

“She’s such a thorn in my side, Flint. I don’t see how you deal with it. She’s always running off, skipping dinner like a fucking idiot. I’ve been leaving Hand pies and those meat buns that she eats with Myra on her desk for weeks because she’s not fucking eating. And even then, it's 50/50 if she eats it. Brat almost passed out during training a few weeks ago. She’s such a—”

He cut off.

Staring.

Rowan followed his gaze—just in time to see Crow frozen between two shelves, caught half-visible in flickering light, something was written on her face that Rowan couldn’t understand.

Kael’s face turned beet red so fast it was almost impressive.

“What the fuck are you doing down here, Birdbrain?! You’re not allowed to even be in here!”

Crow blinked, clearly stunned. Rowan wasn’t sure what shocked her more—the yelling or the food confession.

Her eyes locked on Kael’s, then darted away. He looked guilty, like he'd been caught doing something embarrassingly kind.

“Stop looking at me like that, dammit!” Kael barked, arms crossed so hard his shoulders rose. “I only gave you food because I didn’t need you passing out while hunting goblins!”

Rowan stared. Crow flinched but was speechless.

Crow.

She’d argue with Kael about the sky being blue if she could; he’d watched them bicker during her training more times than he could count.

The air buzzed with something strange. Not anger. Not quite tension.

Almost… tenderness?

Then Rowan laughed. He couldn’t help it. The entire situation was too surreal.

Crow and Kael turned on him like he’d grown another head.

“You’re such a softie sometimes, Kiki.”

“I’ll burn you alive right now,” Kael growled, face entirely red.

“Mhm.” Rowan grinned, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the look on Crow’s face. Not her usual sharp focus. Something else. Something confused, unguarded.

Her expression shifted quickly, but not before he saw it. And maybe… maybe she’d seen the look on his face too. The one she wasn’t supposed to notice.

Kael stomped back toward the door, flustered beyond belief. “Ten minutes, now. Training room. You both better be there.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Silence buzzed again.

“You okay?” Rowan asked, glancing at her.

She nodded slowly. “I just… doesn’t he hate me?”

Something in her eyes looked so tired, so–confused.

“You’d probably be dead if he hated you,” Rowan tried to comfort her. Her eyes were far off, like she was reading something he couldn’t see.

“C’mon. We have a quest to hear about,” he helped her to her feet, guiding her up out of the archives.

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Neither knew what to expect for a debriefing; Rowan definitely didn’t expect to be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, Kael, Myra, and Garran while Duskbane stared them all down like a cryptid who hadn't slept in three days. (Which he probably hadn’t.)

The projection glyph shimmered with dungeon maps and mana readings.

“You’re being assigned to the Fifth Floor,” Duskbane said.

Everyone went still.

“…Of the serpent labyrinth?” Garran asked.

“That’s a bit above our usual pay grade,” Myra muttered.

“It shouldn’t be,” Duskbane replied. “The monsters are mid-tier. But the floor’s been flagged—waves are overwhelming adventurers. We need you there.”

Crow leaned close. “Aren’t we considered low-rank still?”

“Iron and bronze,” Rowan confirmed.

She raised her hand. “Sir, if it’s overwhelming mid-tiers, aren’t we underqualified?”

“You’re more than capable,” Duskbane said flatly. “Your rank hasn’t caught up with your performance. That’s all.”

Kael smirked. “Tch. Finally.”

“You say that like culling monsters is what you want to do with your free time,” Crow gumbled.

“It’s what you do daily, bird brain.”

“That you could help with, but don’t.” Her voice had an edge to it.

“I know how to fight. You’re still learning,” He growled back.

Duskbane turned, stepped through a side door. Rowan was sure he was getting muzzles for them to stop the bickering.

When he returned with two bundles of grey cloth, he just watched with curiosity.

Then, his breath caught. When the bundles were unwrapped, they weren’t just blades. They were real weapons. Expertly forged. Magical.

“For you two,” Duskbane said, nodding to him and Crow.

Rowan blinked, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“Your training gear won’t cut it down there, Ashford. Keep your daggers close, Crow. But play it safe.”

Crow stepped forward first. Touched the hilt, pulled the sword out of the sheath enough to see the runes. Her face paled, and she nearly dropped the sword. It was perfect for her, just long enough to give her reach, short enough she could use it as a one-handed sword if she wanted, without losing balance.

“That’s too much. I can’t accept that.”

“What the hell, Feather brain?!” Kael barked, like he was personally offended.

“Do you know how expensive materials for that kind of weapon are? How long it takes to etch these runes?” she snapped.

“The guild took up a collection.” Duskbane was lying, and Rowan knew it. Unless he meant the group in this room was the guild.

Rowan was already inspecting his. The weight. The balance. The craftsmanship near the guard. “Th-this has to be worth at least fifty large gild.”

Crow’s eyes widened. “Five hundred gild.” She looked sick. She had told him that the money that Kael had given her was more than she’d seen in years, and that she was scared to spend it because “You never know when you’ll have an emergency.”

“Five. Hundred,” she whispered again. The same way she did when she whispered the price of some tool kit she wanted from the guild’s catalogue.

Without warning, she fainted.

Garran and Myra caught her before she hit the floor.

“Oh my gods,” Myra wheezed. “Did she really just—?”

“Brother, this is like the enchanted quill situation all over again,” Garran said, chuckling.

Rowan stood there, sword in hand, hovering awkwardly like he wasn’t sure if he should faint too or start CPR. Kael muttered something about idiots and crossed his arms even tighter.

Duskbane didn’t blink. “Get her up. You leave in eight hours. Make sure you’re packed, fed, and ready. The teleportation glyph will take you directly to the floor’s entry sigil.”

“And the monsters?” Myra called out.

“You’ll figure it out.”

Duskbane turned and left.

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