"Saguna?" Osa's voice sounded distant. "You okay, man?"
"You appeared to lose consciousness momentarily," Radji added, his analytical tone belied by genuine worry in his eyes.
Saguna pulled his hand away from the monument as if burned. "I'm fine," he lied, struggling to his feet. "Just got dizzy for a second. Didn't eat much breakfast."
Osa frowned. "Maybe we should visit the infirmary before continuing?"
"No!" The response came too quickly, too forcefully. Saguna moderated his tone. "No, really. I'm fine now. Let's continue."
Radji studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Our next destination is the Veil Archives. Northeast section, beyond the reflecting pools."
As they continued their tour, Saguna noticed both Osa and Radji watching him when they thought he wouldn't notice. Something had changed in the atmosphere between them. There's a subtle tension that hadn't been there before. Or perhaps it had, and he was only now becoming aware of it.
The Veil Archives was housed in the oldest building on campus, its weathered stone exterior belying the treasures within. Unlike the grand architecture of the main Academy structures, this building was plain, almost deliberately unremarkable except for the wood carved door.
As they entered, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The circular chamber was intimate, with a domed ceiling painted with constellations that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles. Glass cases lined the walls, each containing ancient documents protected from light and time.
The moment Saguna crossed the threshold, the whispers returned. This time it is no longer a single voice but a chorus, overlapping and urgent. The marks on his neck burned so intensely he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.
The Triumvirate awakens... the Veil thins... find the Walker's path...
"These documents are written in Bahsa Leluhur—the ancestor tongue," Radji explained, already examining the nearest display case with scholarly interest. "According to the translations, they contain agreements that domain leaders would use their authority to maintain balance between elements."
Osa yawned dramatically. "Fascinating. Ancient political agreements. Just what I hoped to study today."
But Saguna barely heard them. His attention was drawn to a particular document displayed in a case of polished obsidian rather than glass. The document appeared to be made of some material that wasn't quite parchment or paper, but something with a pearlescent quality that caught the light oddly.
As he approached, the whispers grew to a near-deafening crescendo, and pain lanced through his skull. A migraine erupted without warning, far worse than the morning's discomfort. He tried to continue walking while massaging his temples, but each step deeper into the room intensified the pain.
The script on the document began to move, the characters flowing like ink in water, coalescing into the unmistakable shape of a face—hollow-eyed and ancient, its mouth opening in a silent scream.
Saguna cried out, stumbling backward and crashing into a reading stand. The whispers in his mind became unbearable:
The Triumvirate awakens. The balance fails. The Veil thins. She waits beyond.
"Are you alright? What happened?" Osa rushed to his side, reaching down to help him up.
The moment Osa's hand touched Saguna's arm, a searing heat exploded between them. Osa jerked back with a hiss of pain, clutching his chest where, beneath his clothing, something seemed to burn. Saguna felt the three dots on his neck pulse in response.
Their eyes met in mutual shock and recognition, though neither understood what they were recognizing.
"What in the blazes was that?" Osa whispered, his usual bravado momentarily shattered.
Before Saguna could respond, Radji stepped between them, his analytical expression giving way to genuine concern. "What's happening? Both of you look like you've seen a spirit."
"What is this document?" Saguna finally found his voice, desperate to understand what was happening to him, to all of them.
"It appears to be a treatise on the Veil Spirit Arts," Radji said, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to the display case. "According to the translation panel, it describes different levels of spirit interaction — Veil Sight, Veil Speech, Veil Walking, and Veil Binding." He frowned. "Curious. I've never heard these terms in any of the standard historical texts."
Veil Walking. The term echoed in Saguna's mind, bringing with it a flash of memory. The shadow creature called Sahara a "Walker" just before it pulled her through the tear in reality.
"Are you well, Mr. Taksa?" a new voice interrupted. "You appear distressed."
Saguna turned to find an elderly woman watching them from the archive entrance. Her silver hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her academy robes were a deep purple that marked her as a senior faculty member. Her piercing eyes settled on each of them in turn, lingering a moment too long on Saguna's neck where the marks burned beneath his collar.
"Just a headache," Saguna managed.
"Headaches in the Veil Archives are not uncommon," the woman said, her voice melodious despite her stern countenance. "I am Professor Nyala, Department of Historical Practices." Her gaze never left Saguna as she spoke. "Not a popular department, I'm afraid, since most students prefer more... practical studies. But history has a way of becoming suddenly relevant, doesn't it?"
There was something in her tone. As if she'd been waiting for them. For him.
"The disk," Saguna blurted without thinking. "My sister said—"
He stopped himself, horrified at the slip. For twelve years he'd trained himself never to mention Sahara's last words, never to admit to anyone that she'd given him a strange carved disk before disappearing.
Professor Nyala's expression changed subtly, surprised, then something like hope. "Your sister?" she asked carefully. "And what disk might that be?"
"Nothing," Saguna backpedaled. "I misspoke."
The professor studied him a moment longer, then nodded slightly, as if confirming something to herself. "Perhaps some fresh air would be beneficial. The Tranquility Garden is your next destination, is it not? A perfect place to... clear one's thoughts."
As they made their way out of the archives, Saguna felt Professor Nyala's eyes following him, specifically, fixed on the spot where the three marks had appeared on his neck.
"That was weird, right?" Osa muttered once they were out of earshot. "The way she looked at us. Like she knew something."
"Professor Nyala is highly regarded in academic circles," Radji said, though his voice lacked its usual certainty. "Her work on ancient Zendirah traditions is considered definitive."
Saguna remained silent, his mind racing. The marks on his neck, the strange connection with these two students he'd just met, Professor Nyala's knowing gaze, and the whispers that now unmistakably carried Sahara's voice—none of it could be coincidence.
As they approached the Tranquility Garden, a single coherent whisper cut through the chaos in his mind:
The Triumvirate awakens. Fire, Water, Earth. The triangle forms.Find me before the shadows do, little brother.
For the first time in twelve years, the voice was unmistakably, undeniably Sahara's. And suddenly, Saguna knew with bone-deep certainty that his sister wasn't dead. She was somewhere else, beyond the Veil, waiting for him to find her.
The question was—how?