By the time I returned to the boarding house, evening had settled over Cindervault.
The streets outside Velkrane District grew quieter once the market stalls began closing. Merchants packed their goods into wooden crates while the last wagons rolled toward the river gates. Oil lamps were being lit along the streets, and their warm light stretched across the stone roads in long, wavering patterns.
The city always changed after sunset.
During the day Cindervault belonged to traders and laborers. At night it belonged to quieter businesses.
Information brokers. Smugglers. Cultists.
And sometimes Archivists.
I climbed the narrow staircase inside the boarding house and entered my room. The small space contained little more than a bed, a wooden chair, and a table beside the window. The oil lamp I had left earlier still rested where I had placed it.
I locked the door before removing the wrapped crystal from my coat.
For a moment I simply stood there, holding the cloth bundle in my hand.
Then I unwrapped it.
The fragment of dark crystal lay quietly against my palm. Its surface reflected the lamplight faintly, though the reflections seemed deeper than the light itself should have allowed. Tiny patterns moved within the crystal like distant ripples across water.
Even without the senses of an Archivist, I could feel the faint presence contained inside it.
An Echo fragment.
A piece of the Hollow Archive.
Fifteen years ago I had found this relic by accident after the courier's body had already been removed. I had known nothing about the Path at the time. Only later did I learn that the fragment was part of something much larger.
Now I knew exactly what it represented.
The first step.
Becoming an Archivist again would require more than simply holding the relic. The ritual had to be prepared carefully. The Echo within the crystal was weak compared to higher fragments, but the danger still existed.
Without the correct preparation, the Echo could fracture the mind instead of engraving itself into the soul.
I placed the fragment on the table and began considering what I needed.
Salt.
Ink.
A stable surface for the engraving circle.
The materials themselves were not rare. The difficulty lay in arranging them correctly and maintaining the necessary concentration during the ritual.
In my previous life I had discovered the process through months of research and several near-fatal mistakes.
This time the knowledge already existed in my memory.
That advantage alone might save weeks.
I wrapped the crystal again and placed it inside the drawer beneath the table.
The ritual could not be performed here. Boarding houses had thin walls and curious neighbors. Interruptions during an engraving ritual could end disastrously.
I would need a quiet place.
Fortunately Velkrane District contained several abandoned structures near the old river walls. Many of them had been empty for years after the harbor expanded toward the southern docks.
Those buildings would serve well enough.
I extinguished the lamp and stepped back outside.
Night had deepened across the district. The streets were dim except for scattered lanterns hanging outside taverns and workshops. Groups of sailors wandered between the drinking houses while the last merchants finished closing their stalls.
I walked toward the warehouses where the attack had taken place earlier.
The street was no longer empty.
Two lanterns had been placed near the warehouse doors, and several city guards stood beside them while examining the area.
The bodies had already been discovered.
That was faster than I expected.
A small crowd had gathered nearby, though most people kept their distance once they noticed the guards.
I slowed my pace and joined the outer edge of the gathering.
One of the guards knelt beside the courier's body while another inspected the surrounding stones.
"Looks like robbery," the second guard muttered.
The first shook his head.
"No coin purse missing."
"Then what?"
Before the guard could answer, someone stepped forward from the opposite side of the street.
She moved with quiet confidence, pushing through the crowd without raising her voice or forcing anyone aside. The guards noticed her immediately.
One of them straightened.
"Miss Valeith."
So that was her name.
The woman stepped closer to the lantern light.
She looked slightly younger than I had expected, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Dark hair fell to her shoulders in loose strands, and her grey coat carried the simple design of a scholar rather than a noble. A leather satchel hung at her side, filled with writing tools and small instruments.
Her eyes moved across the scene quickly, studying the ground before the bodies.
"What happened?" she asked.
The guard beside the courier gestured toward the corpse.
"Found him like this half an hour ago. Knife wound to the chest."
"And the other man?"
"Same street. Probably fought each other."
She knelt beside the bodies without hesitation.
For several moments she examined the wounds, the scattered footprints, and the marks left by the struggle. Her attention moved slowly but deliberately, as though she were assembling the events in her mind piece by piece.
I watched from the edge of the crowd.
Her method was efficient.
She checked the courier's satchel next.
Empty.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
"What was he carrying?" she asked.
The guard shrugged.
"Nothing now."
"That's unlikely."
She stood and looked down the length of the street.
"The fight started here," she said quietly. "But the first attack probably happened earlier."
The guards exchanged confused glances.
"How do you know that?"
She pointed toward the warehouse door.
"The courier struck the wood when he was pushed backward. The mark is fresh."
The guard turned to inspect the surface.
Sure enough, a faint indentation remained where the courier's shoulder had collided with the door.
"Someone intercepted him," she continued. "They struggled briefly, then the attacker killed him and searched the satchel."
Her voice remained calm while she spoke.
"And the second body?" the guard asked.
She glanced at the fallen attacker.
"That one is more interesting."
She knelt again and examined his hands.
"No calluses from heavy labor," she murmured. "But the wrist muscles are well developed."
"Meaning?"
"He was trained."
The guard frowned.
"A hired killer?"
"Possibly."
She stood and brushed the dust from her coat.
"What about witnesses?"
"No one saw anything."
Her gaze moved across the gathered crowd.
For a brief moment our eyes met.
The look lasted only an instant, yet I sensed the sharp intelligence behind it. She was not simply observing faces; she was measuring reactions.
I maintained a neutral expression.
After a moment she looked away.
"If the satchel was empty," she said to the guards, "then the killer likely took whatever the courier was carrying."
"Any idea what it was?"
She shook her head.
"Not yet."
Her tone suggested she intended to discover the answer soon.
I left the crowd before the guards began questioning bystanders.
Walking away slowly ensured I did not attract attention. Most people were already losing interest now that the bodies had been identified and the guards had taken control of the scene.
The night air felt cooler as I moved farther from the warehouses.
The investigation had begun sooner than expected.
And the investigator herself was far more perceptive than the guards.
Lysara Valeith.
I repeated the name quietly while walking through the dim streets.
Her involvement complicated the situation slightly. Intelligent investigators had a tendency to notice details others ignored.
Still, she lacked one crucial advantage.
She did not know the relic existed.
As long as that remained true, the investigation would lead nowhere useful.
I returned to the boarding house and entered my room again.
The wrapped crystal remained where I had placed it.
I removed it from the drawer and studied the dark surface once more.
Outside, the distant sounds of the city continued as usual. People drank, argued, and traded goods beneath the lamplight without realizing that something far more important had just changed.
The fragment of the Hollow Archive now belonged to me.
All that remained was the ritual itself.
The preparation would take most of the night. Once the engraving circle was complete, the Echo inside the crystal would attempt to merge with my mind.
If the process succeeded, I would become an Archivist again.
Not the powerful Seal Three I had once been.
But a beginning.