"It seems you and the guardian had quite the conversation," Evening Tide chuckled, clearly amused by the destruction surrounding them.
"You could say that," Leo offered a weak smile, still confused at how the prophet remained so jovial despite the utter wreckage around them.
"Ready to answer my question now?" Evening Tide asked, crouching beside Leo and gently examining his broken leg.
"I came here looking for a certain book," Leo replied immediately, wincing as Evening Tide's fingers prodded the mangled limb.
Evening Tide raised a curious brow.
"Believe me," Leo continued, "I've searched every library known to man for this particular piece of knowledge."
"Let me get this straight," Evening Tide cut in, frowning as he took in the chaotic state of the catacombs. "Not only did you break in here—a highly punishable offense, might I add—you also tried to 'borrow' a book from here without asking."
"Borrow might be too generous," Leo muttered, lowering his gaze in embarrassment.
"There's a word for that, you know." Evening Tide's tone turned dry.
"Stealing," Leo admitted, still avoiding the seer's eyes.
"Exactly." Evening Tide sighed, then added with mock grandeur, "So, my dear assassin, it appears you're in quite a heap of trouble."
"Could we at least deal with the leg first?" Leo grimaced.
"Ah, yes. This—" Evening Tide tapped a protruding bone gently—
"OUCH!" Leo bellowed.
"—is unfortunately above my magical specialties," Evening Tide added nonchalantly, ignoring Leo's cries. "What I can do is set the bones and hope your rather unique constitution does the rest."
"Wait, can't a healer fix this?" Leo asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.
"Not quite," Evening Tide replied. "The injury is tainted with light traces of chaos mana—"
"Of course it is," Leo muttered.
"—which has seeped into your bone marrow," the prophet finished.
Leo's heart sank. "Will I still be able to walk?"
Evening Tide paused—a long, weighty silence, the kind that Leo observed when healers were preparing to break some bad new to their patients.
"Yes," he finally said. "But there's a catch."
"I'll limp."
"Precisely."
Leo exhaled heavily. "Great."
"On the bright side," Evening Tide said, standing up and stretching, "you survived."
Leo narrowed his eyes. "You mean the guardian?"
"Exactly." Evening Tide's cloudy gaze gleamed. "Do you realize what that means?"
"No," Leo replied with forced patience.
"You're the chosen one."
Leo blinked feigning confusion . "What?"
"Don't play coy," Evening Tide rolled his eyes. "Only a Huntran or an elite mage could have defeated that walking pile of arrogance."
The word Huntran made Leo's breath catch. His biggest secret had just been unearthed.
"Don't worry," Evening Tide added, sensing Leo's tension. "I'm not going to report you. Even I wouldn't want to explain this mess."
Leo allowed himself a brief sigh of relief.
"Besides," he thought, looking around at the utter destruction, "even a Prophet of the Moon would have a hard time sweeping this under the rug."
"I knew it!" Evening Tide suddenly shouted, pumping his fist into the air.
Leo flinched instinctively.
"From the start, I suspected there was more to you. You survived a demon, a rogue mage, a vampire, and now a sentient mana construct."
Leo ignored most of the rant—until something caught his ear.
"Wait, Chaos was created from a mana core?"
Evening Tide stopped pacing. "Naturally. Did you think Elhyr just summoned him from mist and fury?"
Leo shrugged, eager for more details.
"Chaos was forged from the mana core of a specific beast."
"Draghyr?" Leo asked immediately.
"Good heavens, no," Evening Tide shuddered. "It came from a lesser beast, though equally vile in intent."
Leo searched his memory but came up blank. "Which one?"
"Camhyr," the prophet whispered.
Leo's eyes widened. "But I thought demons had only darkness attributes."
"True, but Camhyr was unique. He possessed three mana cores."
Leo stared at him in disbelief. "That's impossible."
"And yet," Evening Tide said, "Elhyr harvested one of those cores and infused it into the construct you know as Chaos. That's what made him so dangerous."
Leo fell silent, digesting the revelation.
"Anyway," Evening Tide dusted off his robes, "it's almost sundown. I should probably fix your leg now."
He knelt beside Leo, his cloudy eyes glowing with gentle light.
"And the tomb?" Leo gestured toward Elhyr's shattered resting place.
"I'll summon acolytes to clean it up later," the prophet replied casually.
"You're not going to tell anyone?"
"No," Evening Tide said, standing. "But naturally, this means you owe me—big time."
CRACK!
Leo groaned through gritted teeth as the last bone clicked into place.
"There. That should hold."
Evening Tide offered a pale hand. Leo took it, hauling himself up slowly, limping on his good leg.
"Let's get you to your folks," the prophet said.
He bent down and picked up a long piece of ivory—broken from one of the tomb's many ornamented shelves.
"Here, use this."
Leo accepted the makeshift cane with a half-smile.
"Don't forget this." Evening Tide handed over a thick, midnight-blue book.
Leo stared at it for a long moment. The strange feeling of shame slowly making its way back.
"Would be a shame if all this was for nothing," Evening Tide teased.
Leo tucked the book under his arm. "Couldn't agree more."
He cast one final look at the sarcophagus—the place that had started this entire mess. Then he turned, limping into the darkness of the tunnels.
Only the slow, steady tap of his ivory cane and Evening Tide's soft footfalls echoed through the silent catacombs.