"Well, look at that." She said, not even hiding the venom in her words. The elder djinn hadn't been an endearing host. In fact, all this was breaking the unsaid rules of hospitality and such a knife cuts both ways. The itch to knock him down a peg wasn't something Verdant resisted. "It came back to haunt you at the least opportune moment."

A feral grin split her visage like a gaping scar, filled with too many needle-sharp teeth for a human. Posture low and muscles tense, Verdant was more a serpent ready to spring than the little glutton that was her usual mask.

"None here are yours to claim, old thing." She hissed harshly, scales sprouting across her face and the back of her arm, spreading down until a sinuous tail grew behind. "She'll not be a sacrifice to pay for your mistake."

Standing in front of sheathed weapons, and envenomed words belonged to... people who refused to hear, Arcan the Ancient Djinn replied to the obstinacy with a hardened stance. No weapon was drawn from his end, but he stepped forward, again phasing through the desk, and glared at the party. For the moment, all the light in the room was rapidly diminished by his own shadow, and the air remained tigled with thick hostility.

He was too focused on that snake youkai in front of him, and that allowed Miwa to edge out of the periphery and reach Jazdia.

"How much time do we have until the curse corrodes Jazdia's soul and Lythiel is finally released?"

The Miko said, drawing his full attention. His anger was like a flame in open winter, tempered by his own rule; he stood there unmoving, tense and slightly undecided. Too late to do anything physical.

"You are already late." He answered icily.

"No curse is unbreakable. Just because you don't know a way to break it, doesn't mean it's impossible. Even if we aren't successful in breaking it, there are other options. If we could find something powerful enough to cause an interference with the curse or with the link between the curse and Lythiel herself, it could be possible to more easily dispel the curse or to, perhaps, transfer it to another thing." Miwa said, still thinking about different ways to deal with the situation.

At those long-winded words, Arcan tried to suppress a bitter snide. "I don't know it, yes, but with the basis of vast knowledge I possess. This pitiful doubt of yours, however, stemmed from how little knowledge you have. There is no cure."

"In the end, killing an innocent person, even if it seems justifiable for you... Wouldn't that make you closer to Lythiel? Whom, even in her twisted ways, thought it was justifiable to cruelly attack even her own childhood friends? Your master, Theriadore, was a scholar. Where most people would see an impossible obstacle, he likely saw it as a challenge to surpass." Miwa said, looking at the crystal that Theriadore created to imprison Lythiel.

"Besides... If Lythiel was able to curse someone while being imprisoned, killing Jazdia wouldn't prevent her from doing it again, would it? The very fact you were able to meet Jazdia and detect this curse was extremely lucky. If you didn't, you would never have known Lythiel was plotting her escape." Miwa continued.

Arcan was silent, not because he ran out of words, but rather because he had too much to pick that in the interstice of his anger, he somewhat flinched in perplexity.

"I will not call a person who made a deal with evil an innocent. And do not mention her name in the same line with my master," Arcan thrummed low. He stared back, rigid with rage tightly leashed, yet in his words, there was a layer of unmistakable dread.

" Still naive, I see! I will tell you the scale of destruction Lythiel was capable of. The day, that day! When she finally returned 30 years after the courthouse massacre. We had prepared, but that wasn't enough. The brightest minds in Varenheim, and only a handful survived the battle. The land withered with elven blood that day, and black flames came alive and swarmed the battlefield. Djinn and elves, not many could stand her attacks.
One by one, she culled our strongest warriors and mages like snapping branches, turning some into dried husk of corpses in a few blinks of an eye, and fed on their lives as her unholy black fires emerged from their crumbling carcass.

He paused to look at Jazdia, inhaling a breath to feed the wrath that was already burning deep. Now the terrible memory was in a process of manifesting, right in front of him.

"We did not seek to find knowledge to tamper with such dangerous power. We seek a way to end it! And bless the Creator! Her power was not as enduring as her wrath. After many lives lost, my master managed to subdue her; chaining her with spells and entombing her in crystal. We did not kill her because we know her power was attained by breaking the sacred law of life and death; a very tight and unusual imprisonment was the only choice. Now I ask you---Yes, we are very lucky to know this. But now with all the stakes laid bare. Can you live with knowing you helped set that monster loose? My concern was not just for my own safety, but very likely for anything in this world you held dear."

Silence again for a while. Arcan let every word hang in the air. His shadow retreated. Jazdia had risen from her position, helped by Miwa, and he could only watch in grinding restraint.

"Then tell me, Curator Arcan." Jazdia finally said, staring darkly at the ancient Djinn. A blade gleamed in her left hand, while her right arm held Miwa's for support. "Fifty Years I have mastered her power. For seventeen centuries, Lythiel endured all that metaphysical torment your Master had condemned her to. Tell me then, why did she have to wait another 50 years? Why didn't she take me that day, when I was wounded and dying?"

Arcan's gaze fixated on her with enmity ready to be unleashed. But her words stirred something inside him, a loathsome thing he refused to acknowledge, yet so undisputed. He maintained a cruel distance between them by ignoring the question.

"You don't know, do you?" She pressed again. "There is a gap in that vast knowledge you are so proud of."

"I do not care, and I don't need to know." He replied coldly "My problem is right in front of me. Why should I ponder about the wicked intricacies that the monster is plotting with you if I can end it now?"

Jazdia tightened her grip on her blade, her words rigid with unyielding resolve.

"Then know that I will not go quietly. I am the master of my own fate, not you, not even Lythiel."

"Oh, you will fight for it?" Sneered the elder djinn contemptuously. "And then what? You don't know anything but fighting it blindly, do you? Such arrogance! No wonder Lythiel chose you---a perfect vessel, body and soul, cursed with the same sin." He paused to assess the surroundings. Every spear, blade, and poison, and provocation. All calculated, and his conclusion was a temporary de-escalation that did not necessarily make his agitation die down.

"I will not fight you. Not here, not with your friends in the way. No, I refuse to sully this gallery with your short-sighted rebellion."

"In one way or another, we will find a way to deal with this problem once and for all. Will you aid us?" Miwa said, extended her hand towards Arcan, waiting for his reply.

The curator shifted his attention to the Miko. After all those warnings and no heedings, his face was stern in disappointment, and her reach for peace was ignored. "I have done my part, as promised. Now it is clear to you what you are dealing with. Do what you want with that knowledge."

---

Fia lagged behind as the elves hurriedly departed towards the source of the distress. Calm as they tried to appear, it didn't take much to see the tension in their demeanor. Still, this became an opportunity in itself. In the moment she remained alone, Fia took some of the valuables from the glass case. Fia noticed early on that none of the cases were locked. Perhaps the vault relied on its remoteness as security, or maybe the artificer who built this the vault never expected it to be so abandoned. Regardless, Fie made sure to grab particularly the one item Eblana seemed most drawn to. Perhaps Fia could gift it in the future, where the ancient djinn was no longer a threat to the party.
“Hmm, yes.” said Fia, now standing near the Vesemir. He only stopped briefly to ask before quickly walking down the hall towards where the others were. Fia has interacted with several djinn of multiple compositions. They were enigmatic and few had any similarities between them. They could have multiple categories in and of themselves if anyone wanted to dedicate the time to do so. Fia spent over a decade going beyond simple study and she concluded that there would be no point. However, they were like most living beings. They could feel, thus also feel threatened. Animalistic, monstrous, or sentient, it didn’t matter.
“And we might just there, darling. I cannot think of anyone else except Arcan who would be able to display enough power to shake the entire vault. Something definitely has him agitated. I hope those dears are able pacify him, one way or another.”

@Randomness

“Hmm, yes.”

“And we might just there, darling. I cannot think of anyone else except Arcan who would be able to display enough power to shake the entire vault. Something definitely has him agitated. I hope those dears are able pacify him, one way or another.”

Vesemir silently prayed that Via was right. The upheaval paused as they walked through that dimly lit corridor, but the ominous feeling in the air persisted, like a chill in the calm before the storm.

They finally arrived when Arcan was almost finished. The Ancient Djinn towered before Miwa like a teacher having a fiery debate with a student, but it was actually Jazdia who seemed to be getting the punishment.

"I have done my part, as promised. Now it is clear to you what you are dealing with. Do what you want with that knowledge."

Words spoken, vibrating with unmistakable authority. Vesemir was momentarily daunted by it, yet mightily intrigued by its arcanness. He stood there, watching what seemed to be a harsh lecturing reaching its conclusion. Or maybe not, considering Jazdia and Miwa were facing him directly. The ranger held her blade, something that, in Mr. Elc's words, was a rare thing. Verdant and Rezello were also assuming a combat pose, making the situation even more tense.

What pushed this usually feisty and childish youkai to the brink of ferality? What does Arcan mean by that? Too much to process, yet silence was too overwhelming. What was actually going on? He intended to ask, but the sheer intimidation everyone radiated was immense. It was gradually defusing, but still rendered him speechless.

For a tense moment, it seemed like it would come to blow.

Then it passed, the elder djinn instead deciding to unload the venom from his heart. Verdant didn't relax though, for a mere lapse of moment had lost her the initiative just a minute ago. Hand still clutching the mage-breaker in a vial, the serpent inched to stand by Jazdia's side. As much as support as to surround the curator, emerald eyes finding Rezello across the room.

She wasn't sure how much can be conveyed with only a gaze, but if it still comes to a blow she'd like to coordinate their attacks.

The story that followed was... Screams and weeping. Acrid, sickly-sweet tang of ashes and burnt flesh. Desolation as far as the eyes can see, travelling to the faraway horizon. The serpent blinked quickly, once and then twice, chasing away the memories. Parallel should not be drawn carelessly, not with a story told so one-sidedly.

"Nothing is set in stone until the final line is crossed." Verdant hissed with malice, obstinately digging in and refusing to budge. "You've failed to settle your issue in seventeen-hundred years, ancient one. You dont get to talk about being short sighted."

As if on cue, the rest of the party arrived. Verdant spared one last flicker of a glance to the elf, who mouthed back with blades in hands to an entity that probably could've dismantled any of them with a thought and Sich'al bite her that's hot. Chasing away the errant thought, her observation fell upon Vesemir and the others now. The extra swords she doubt could do much, but the sorceress that gave her the goosebumps should be able to tilt the battle in their favor. If there's one. And if Arcan didn't recognize the threat and snapped Fia in half first thing.

Avoiding open confrontation, much to her displeasure, was still the prudent thing.

"Our host is regretting his hospitality, unfortunately." The words came out as snidely as it could, for no other reason than to be extra petty.

Rezello

---

Though Miwa’s reasoning seemed to get through to the curator, at least enough for him to release Jazdia from his grasp, the tension in the room remained high as the miko and the ranger continued their parley with the elder djinn. Through the ensuing exchanges, the nature of Jazdia’s curse was revealed; a portion of Lythiel’s soul was corrupting Jazdia’s own. Arcan remained insistent that the condition was incurable, but while the breadth of his knowledge was undoubtedly vast, he surely couldn’t be omniscient; perhaps a missing piece of critical information that was held not in archives and vaults, but deeper within the forest, waiting to be discovered. They had only just begun their delve into these blighted lands, after all.

Verdant, meanwhile, had been steadily moving into a position more suitable both to assist Jazdia and for an engagement, taking on a new form - something neither quite human nor serpentine, but somewhere in between - and was occasionally throwing out her own remarks at the expense of the curator. While the latter’s attention was still focused on Miwa and Jazdia, Verdant shifted her eyes to look to Rezello, to which he responded with a slight nod and a quick glance down to the hand at his side, still holding her enchanted kris dagger and Miwa’s hairbands. If the magic Vesemir had placed on them was useful against more than the necromancer, it could prove vital in the hypothetical battle.

As would the newly arrived reinforcements. Those that had remained in the gallery were now entering the library, no doubt investigating the source of the disturbance that had rocked the vault. Arcan’s final words, however, indicated that the battle would remain a hypothetical, at least for now. Still, it was clear that their welcome was growing thin - that is, if it hadn’t been worn out entirely already. Rezello maintained his defensive stance, avoiding any blatant display of aggression but standing his ground until Jazdia and the others were safely out of the library.

There was, of course, still the matter of the cursed room. Whether Arcan would permit them to remain long enough to investigate it was yet to be seen.

---

Well, the disturbance was definitely Arcan, not that much consideration was even given to any of the other party members. There was very little reason Jazdia would need to bomb the vault archive, for example. Speaking of, it was that ranger elf that looked to have been injured. She stood, slightly hunched as she was regaining her breath. Arcan stood in the middle, an intense glared pointed at Miwa, yet still poised in front of Jazdia. Rezello stood defensively sword at the ready, And then Verdant. She donned something less adorable than Fia remembered, looking more monstrous with venom in her eyes.
Fia, as well as the others who arrived last, only heard the resolution of the conflict. At least a temporary reprieve. No one stood down and it was clear more was to be said. The altercation was explained by Miwa in passing as she talked down at the ancient djinn. The curse, Jazdia’s curse, was associated with someone called Lythiel. Whoever that was must have been of some importance given the response from Arcan. Fia’s eyebrows rose at the information. Her curse was more than just some revenant’s revenge, it was an attempt to return, to once again reclaim the pride these forests once held. Fia never heard of Lythiel before, but it was certainly big news to the elves, and Arcan himself.
Fia casually walked between Arcan and Miwa. She looked at Arcan first and then at the young miko. The girl had a righteous heart and her attitude matched her resolve, but when it came to matters of the ancient Djinn, even with numbers, they were not to be trifled with lightly.
“That’s enough, dear. As much as I would love for an ancient djinn to follow us on our endeavors, his duty is to this vault.” Fia said in a calm tone. Fia knew she was in a dangerous position, but Fia took that risk trusting her allies to better decide in this situation. Ancient djinn were powerful enough as it was. And it was especially true when when they occupied a space under their reverence. Whoever said Djinn didn’t have a home were wrong. He might not have had anything personal to lose, but he still had ever reason to not hold back against the party should an engagement occur. Djinn were most powerful in their place of dominion. And for Arcan, that was this vault.
“I suggest we clear out that contaminated room as a sign of good will. Let Arcan reclaim that section of the vault. In exchange, we leave here peacefully, and promise not to return. At least until the time in which that curse is no longer affecting our dear Jazdia. Be it cleansed or death. Does that sound amiable, dear Arcan?”

@Randomness@13org

"Enough! Despite everything that you said, you have failed to reply to anything I said with arguments of significant substance other than outbursts of anger and arrogance! Even if you kill Jazdia, there is nothing preventing Lythiel to find another vessel. And when she finds it, it most certainly won't conveniently wander to your doorstep to let you know of it's existence!" Miwa said in an angry tone, looking directly at Arcan, almost too close to comfort.

"I believe there is not much else to be said, is there? We have reached an impasse, Arcan. What will you do? Will you simply try to kill Jazdia once we leave your precious gallery and forsake your duty by ignoring the fact that Lythiel remains a threat? Or will you uphold your duty both to Theriadore himself and to the Theriadore gallery by assisting us in finding a way to deal with Jazdia's curse in exchange of our help with dealing with the two threats you failed to contain, both Lythiel and the necromancer?" Miwa said, her grasp on her weapon becoming tighter as she gave Arcan an ultimatum.

"Think wisely about your choice and know that should you decide to face us, neither one of us will leave unscathed... And unlike you, we have no reason to wait for you to try to strike us down once we leave the gallery. After all... Wasn't you that said 'my problem is right in front of me. Why should I ponder about the wicked intricacies that the monster is plotting if I can end it now?'" Miwa finished, looking directly at Arcan as she used his own words against him.

Arcan was somewhat smarted by the audacity, yet no shadow was moving, nor air changing. In the presence of the entire party, the ancient Djinn adjusted his anger to accommodate a more professional demeanor. After all, he had made his choice.

Calmly, he tugged the cuff of his suit and fixed his eyeglasses. His external control had been perfected for millennia, so when he looked again at the rebellious act Miwa displayed, he was both convinced yet tired.

“That’s enough, dear. As much as I would love for an ancient djinn to follow us on our endeavors, his duty is to this vault.”

Arcan searched for whoever said that. Finally, a sensible statement after all this... pathetic standoff. He saw one of the party members, a gorgeous woman with tanned skin. who casually stepped up and positioned herself between him and Miwa. The curator gave her a nod of acknowledgement and respect before addressing the matter at hand.

"Let me tell you what I will do. To maintain the status quo as long as everyone here is willing to uphold it." He declared, setting up hard boundaries by eyeing everyone present before shifting back to Miwa.

"And to give you additional information. Consider this a token of apology for my rudeness earlier." A pause ensued as he took one last unfriendly look at Jazdia.

"Your friend has less than a month," he continued, his tone was icily clinical. "In three weeks, she will start to lose her sanity, there will be no her, no memories, and no name. Then, after that period of limbo, she dies, withered like Thealeone. But it will be a nobler death. You can, of course, let her stay here, let me monitor her. But what we do not know is what happened after she died. The soul..." He clenched his fist, reeling back an intense emotion, and that restraint was summarily tested again by Jazdia.

"No deal," the ranger said, now standing by herself, the mask of indifference was donned and fastened with iron. Her blade sheathed, and she breathed deeply. Sorrow lingered in her eyes, visible only to those who look closer. Her own death and soul, talked and trivialized like a cheap thing. Yet here she was, exhausted, yet enduring. "I will not just sit idly and fade. I will fight it to the bitter end."

Arcan considered a vicious barb, but plain dismissal was apparently more apt and cruel.

"Pointless suffering. But you have made your choice."

The curator looked at Miwa again, his expression remained hardened. "Priestess Shirakawa Miwa. You heard what your friend has decided; hence, I shall be forthright. You will leave my Master's Vault in peace, with a sincere prayer from me that you will turn back to the West. I will take one last effort to search for any knowledge that might help your friend, although I am certain it shall be a futile endeavor. Whether my effort begets hope or despair, I will find you, and the Creator is my witness, hope next time we meet, it will not be on the path leading to Ostianor."

Arcan finally started walking toward the door, but barely two steps, Vesemir stopped him. The elven scholar was genuinely confused, but utterly failed to read the room.

"Wait, curator Arcan. Help me understand. What was going on?!

"I will not repeat myself," rumbled the ancient djinn. "Since some of you are willing to risk life and suffer to protect the fallen, I figured transparency should be a virtue in your group."

Another step closer to the door, then Fia called.

“I suggest we clear out that contaminated room as a sign of good will. Let Arcan reclaim that section of the vault. In exchange, we leave here peacefully, and promise not to return. At least until the time in which that curse is no longer affecting our dear Jazdia. Be it cleansed or death. Does that sound amiable, dear Arcan?”

Arcan neither dismissed nor agreed. He simply stood there for a moment. Briefly regarded Rezello, eyeing Verdant in her not-so-pleasing form, and then his gaze fell to Vesemir, Eblana, Stepan, Fia, and the last two who had given him so much trouble. No, trouble was a way too mild; it was a crisis, a cataclysmic one, and he was forced to downplay it for now.

"You have a lot to think about. I will leave you to it."

Then, as swiftly as the cold air regulating in that room, he disappeared.



Vesemir needed a moment before he could finally gather his words and ask. "So... what was that again?"

Mr Elc. could only close his eyes and shake his head. Eblana shot him a glare. Stepan was as clueless but couldn't say anything.
Jazdia let silence be her answer for now, but soon enough, she would weave words that understate the grimness of her own fate.

Forked tongue tasted the air, finding that Arcan's very presence had faded from the room like hoarfrost under the sun. The animalistic part of the mind wanted to relax, to deflate now that the immediate threat had disappeared. But the more human part of Verdant forced the tension to remain, knowing that presence meant jack shit when they're still remaining in the djinn's seat of power. Just as easily as he disappeared he could return, and if they separated or merely lowered their guard it could lead to some deaths right off the bat.

She hissed, hating how the other side held all the initiative.

"Overstaying our welcome." The serpent spat, with perhaps a bit more venom than intended. She paused, breathing deeply as some of the more overt transformation receded. She's still scalier than the usual form and the tail uneasily flicked left and right, but at least the teeth was normally blunted rather than needle-sharp now. "Uh, sorry bossman. A bit high-strung. The curator... find offense at Jazdia's existence." Another pause, Verdant intently turning to look at Jazdia in a gesture that asked for elaboration should the elf felt like it. "And we find offense at the ensuing murder attempt! Hence, we should leave. As fast as possible, yes yes, please and thank you."

Rezello

---

When Arcan vanished, it became evident that the combined words and defiance of his allies had successfully convinced him to let them be - albeit perhaps more through frustration than genuine persuasion, though in the moment it hardly mattered. Rezello’s grip on his spadone eased somewhat as he approached the three who had been the primary focus of Arcan’s animosity, holding out the rune-marked dagger and hairbands for Verdant and Miwa to take. “Your equipment,” he spoke, breaking the silence he had maintained to avoid drawing too much of Arcan’s attention to himself.

“While I agree it would be most sensible to leave as soon as possible, there is still the matter of the necromancer’s ritual chamber. Knowing what occurred there, I still intend to look into it,” he paused, turning to Miwa. “That is, if you still intend to attempt a purification.” After all, he wouldn’t have any idea how to deal with curses and other such dark magics if he was on his own - whatever cursed magic it was that had sealed his mask to his face was already more than he knew how to deal with.

Nonsense. My presence is a boon, not a curse.

Enchanted armor would be a boon, but that doesn’t mean I would want to wear it all the time.

Your loss.

In any case, even if they couldn’t do anything about or discover anything in the unnatural darkness that flooded the room the necromancer had converted into a ritual chamber, the shattered wall they witnessed when they first arrived at the vault could at least serve as a shortcut out of Arcan’s territory.

When Vesmemir inquired, Verdant looked alert still; serpent tails, scales, and all. The scholar was partially used to it, but to see it up close still gave him quite a trepidation.

"Uh, sorry bossman. A bit high-strung. The curator... find offense at Jazdia's existence."

Another pause, Verdant intently turning to look at Jazdia in a gesture that asked for elaboration should the elf felt like it. The elf did not avert her gaze; her eyes were empty, utterly unblinking in that moment. The slow, graceful decline of her chin was a silent, definite signal that she would mind.

And Verdant understood it clearly.

"And we find offense at the ensuing murder attempt! Hence, we should leave. As fast as possible, yes yes, please and thank you."

When Vesemir was about to open his mouth, Rezello walked forth. After handing the enchanted artifact that belonged to Verdant and lastly to Miwa, he then spoke.

“While I agree it would be most sensible to leave as soon as possible, there is still the matter of the necromancer’s ritual chamber. Knowing what occurred there, I still intend to look into it,”

The masked knight paused, turning to Miwa.

“That is, if you still intend to attempt a purification.” After all, he wouldn’t have any idea how to deal with curses and other such dark magics if he was on his own - whatever cursed magic it was that had sealed his mask to his face was already more than he knew how to deal with.

"Thank you, Rezello. I shall protect you and anyone who wishes to investigate the room. But I refuse to help someone who was so eager to kill one of our own, even resorting to treachery. Let us take a similar approach to this situation as Arcan himself does.... The room was defiled by the necromancer due to his negligence. It is his problem to deal with, not ours." Miwa said.

"I am willing, at least to try and disrupt whatever curses and magics are in that room so they won't be able to be used by the necromancer. But I refuse to purify it. I have no good will to give to Arcan after what he did." Miwa completed.

"I am sorry for everything you saw and had to hear, Vesemir... But we have to leave the gallery as soon as possible." Miwa said, finally turning to the confused Vesemir, before glancing towards Verdant with a nod, agreeing with her previous words.

"It seems Arcan is not so good of a host as we previously thought..." Miwa said before briefly explaining exactly what had happened regarding Jazdia and how Arcan could not be trusted.

"No need to be sorry, dear Miwa. Please continue."

At first, Vesemir was skeptical, but did not say anything and let Miwa explain uninterrupted. After all, Arcan had been quite welcoming during their arrival. Being enraged randomly was not something he would expect from his type.

When the moment Miwa explained about the curse and Lythiel. The scholar's face gradually darkened. He eyed the painting, his lips pursed, while his mind raced to remember every bit of knowledge he had about the affair most of his kin had forgotten. Lythiel, the Snow Terror, Serensiel's protégé. Was that kind of imprisonment even possible? Was revenancy---a phenomenon bordering on the apocryphal---something that could be imposed upon an unwilling soul?

Miwa had finished retelling, but Vesemir was still deep in his thoughts until he finally spoke.

"You know. Had someone else say this to me, I'd laugh in their face and call them a complete charlatan." he paused, stepping aside to let Eblana bustle over Miwa and Jazdia. Particularly to the latter.

The scholar sighed. The feeling of responsibility was now setting in and felt heavier than Theriadore's book in his arm. An enthusiastic scholar in him was beaming inside; after all, this was an intriguing finding, dubious as it may be, he might even be tempted to ask Arcan himself.

But then it would be unethical. They were discussing someone else's misfortune here, and his heart would prefer that Arcan was wrong. For this matter, Vesemir decided to side with his conscience.

"And I think I'd still laugh, even in Arcan's face," he continued, slightly muttering. Jazdia was looking at him with a smile clearly forced. And he replied in kind. Vesemir knew how shaken Jazdia was behind her uncanny poise. Oh, he knew. Just like artifacts and archeological intricacies, people too had patterns, and he had centuries worth of experience recognizing, to see it through dust and soils, through every mask, and feigned demeanor. What he did not know was how serious the news was, or how much the truth was in Arcan's words. He decided not to find out, not now at least.

"There will be times to discuss it later," said Vesemir solemnly, almost to himself, before shifting his gaze to Rezello. He knew his story. The tragedy of Scheel was a phenomenon discussed quite frequently among academics, but still unresolved to this day. It would be a huge disservice to leave the vault just like that, while a precious clue was just a room next door.

"Now, regarding the dark room earlier. I am fine with the plan to leave the vault now. Mr Elc had suggested it earlier. But, friends! Let me say this again, if you feel you need to, you do it, and I, Eblana, Mr Elc, and Stepan would help. If you don't want to, you are allowed to. I will not compel anyone on the optionals. So, should we go now? Not purifying, just walk in and have a look. Any objections?"

@13org@Valkon@A5G@Randomness



Under the ample lighting of that special chamber, Eblana Lacquamarine squinted her eyes. She had dragged a chair from the reading desk and asked Jazdia to sit on it, which the ranger complied with, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Currently, she was examining her neck, which, according to Miwa's account, was subjected to Arcan's sudden attack and strangulation. Leaning closer, there were definitely bruises, not much, but still indisputable evidence of an attack.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly.

Jazdia nodded. "Not too bad..."

"Any shortness of breath? dizzynes?"

The ranger shook her head.

No smile was coming from her serene visage, and Eblana did not entertain her understatement. "I still have the salve. I will apply it to you, hold still."

The tale about Jazdia's condition was still heavy in the air. Goodness gracious, by the sound of it. Pretty unbelievable, honestly. But she did not fail to notice a quiver in Vesemir's voice when he stated his opinion. And just like him, Eblana too felt now was simply not the time to speak much about it.

But she wished she could hug Jazdia.

"Are you hurt too, Miss Miwa?" She asked with the same gentleness. True to Miwa's words. If Arcan resorted to a direct physical attack, then the vault was not safe.

But was it justified? If her boss Vesemir did not know, what hope did a younger Elf like herself have of understanding?"

---

Fia let out a small sigh. Arcan seemed to be set in his ways. That was to be expected by such an entity beyond several decades old. But further more, though Fia had confidence that the group as a whole could restrain him, it would not be without loss on their side. Fia only knew him for the moment and it was enough to gauge how much power he had. Especially if being angry was enough to shake the vault.
“Oh my. He has certainly left a sour taste in your mouth, hasn’t he, darling? It doesn’t sound very miko like to me.” said Fia. She said these words in a way not to provoke the young miko, instead to encourage her resolve. “You asked before if I would aid you, well, I’ll defer to your decision in this manner. I don’t particularly care about the condition of that room. I only suggested it because I assumed you might want to still purify it. Seeing as you’re in no mood, I’ll only go as far as help our dear masked knight with his investigation.”
“All that said, lets not linger too long. A quick peak and then we should go. Djinn, especially ancient djinn, are quite powerful in their domains. As you can imagine, this vault belongs to Arcan’s.”

"Oh, thanksies!" Verdant had almost forgotten the bone dagger amidst all that commotion. She couldn't afford to lose it, it's quite likely that she'll never again find herself in the circumstances that produced the single weapon that attuned so perfectly to her own power.

The serpent deftly tested the bleached-ivory weapon, flicking and spinning it with well-practiced ease as her tail swished with excitement behind her. The enchantment didn't seems like it changed the physical aspect of it, but she could feel the concept now embedded into its existence. A patient yet lethal aspect, its purpose steadily resonating into her whole being.

"Shrive. Sunder. Sever. Ooh yes, we'll achieve great things together, you and I."

Whoops, she's whispering all insidiously evil. Hope no one listened in too closely.

"Ugh. Well, guess that's the only exit the curator doesn't outright control. Between evil cursed room and murderous djinn... bleh, cursed room it is." Verdant said rather plainly, not even bothering to hide her distaste. So what if Arcan possibly overheard? She had made her opinion clear enough. "So, let's get moving? The sooner the better, yep."

Medicine applied, smiles and thanks exchanged. Jazdia Crystalspark stood up and placed her palm on her chest to monitor her breathing and feel her own heartbeat; now stabilized in a steady rhythm of 74 beats per minute, with respiratory rate slightly elevated.

It was a small, clinical self-diagnosis that had been a habitual impulse since her magic could no longer heal. An assurance that, despite everything, she retained control.

Bringing herself back to the present, Jazdia resurrected her awareness and let the problem buried in the back of her mind. There was a small quibble between Miwa and Fia, enough for the young Miko to retell the history of her own temple.

"Our kindness is what aids those in need, but our wrath is what keeps them safe."

A strong sense of passion flickered in her eyes. Jazdia walked next to her, placing her palm on Miwa's shoulder. The elf's voice was serene, almost a deliberate contrast with the sheer resoluteness in Miwa's, like a water trying to mend a newly forged steel.

"Thank you for standing up for me, that's very kind of you."

And she moved to Verdant, who just stood a step away. "And you too, Verdant," she reached, trying to pat her too, but in her heart, a pang of reluctance emerged. Her palm hovered above the youkai's head, stalled by uncertainty.



Vesemir did not say much. Everyone's voice had been accounted for, and for what it was worth, pretty unanimous regarding their next destination.

"Alright. Let's get moving." Instructions given, and Mr Elc and Stepan led them. While Vesemir, the scholar---seemingly against his own instruction---walked closer toward the crystal. Bright and red, it irritated his psyche just by looking at it, and he wondered what this all meant.

Creator, Star in Heaven. Lead me through the straight path. As he turned to join the group, Vesemir did not look at the painting. He simply... dared not to. For the first time in hundreds of years, Vesemir Barandir found solace in ignoring a clue.

___

The party's departure from that somber part of the library went unimpeded. The fountain was seen, and the wide door leading to the south antechamber was just straight ahead. A small feeling of respite they experienced was slightly tarnished by the presence of the Curator, who stood by the fountain. His eyes watched them with pompous disinterest, yet Vesemir found himself drawn by Arcan's cryptic beckoning.

"Have you decided to conclude your tour in my gallery?" The ancient djinn inquired, mostly toward Vesemir. The door behind him was wide open, and they would not find him physically hindering their path to that antechamber.

"Yes," the scholar answered, gazing back at the towering djinn cautiously. "We are immensely grateful for your hospitality. Sadly, we can't risk returning to the surface at night. So thank you, Curator Arcan."

"Mhm. Have you decided what gifts you would claim?"

"I will have this book," answered Vesemir, tapping the blue cover of the tome he had been carrying. "As for the other one, I don't think I need anything else."

"About that. Perhaps." There was an edge in the Curator's rumbling voice, and he finally looked at the party, not toward Jazdia, or Miwa specifically, but... toward them all. Yet he did not stop them.

"Then I must ask for the surreptitious, unauthorized claims for some artifacts that I am sure are currently in your party's possession. Would you happen to know anything about it, esteemed Ticket Bearer?"

Arcan's tone was thick with accusation, and that intimidated Vesemir somehow. At first, he thought Arcan was joking, but a split-second realization arrived like an unseen blow. He nervously looked to his left and right, and confusion washed over Eblana, Elc, and Stepan, who stood close to him.

"I might look like a thug," Setepan raised his hands and showed his calloused palms. "But sure as hell I ain't a thief."

Subtle as it may be, the implication was clear. But the question remained: Who did that? And what would happen if this case didn't get any closure?

---

Well, considering everything that took place just moments ago, Fia’s decision to grab a couple goodies of her own was probably ill advised. Arcan knew that items were missing and probably which ones, but he didn’t know who. Fia paused in thought as the others discussed what may have happened to the missing items from the vault. There were pro and cons to each decision. When Vesemir couldn’t come up with anything, Fia took a step forward.
She reached into her bad and presented three different jewelry items. “I may have misunderstood how far your generosity reached. Well, I apologize for my mistake. Here are the items.” said Fia. She kept her voice calm and steady. Her heart beat didn’t change and her breathing remained calm. All in an effort to prove completely sincerity in her confession. While she had hoped to be able to walk out with the items, ultimately it would be better to leave safely than it was to provoke the ancient djinn any further. And it was far too early into their adventure to throw Vesemir under the bus for mere trinkets. As much as those trinkets held untold power from ages long past.
“If Vesemir would be so kind then, might he claim this item as his second?” Fia asked more directly towards Vesemir than to Arcan. With her other hand, Fia picked up the piece of jewelry Eblana was looking at most intently just before the group left the workshop to investigate the djinn’s rage. A certain someone in our group appeared to covet this intricately beautiful piece, and I think it would be a stunning addition.”
As for the other two items, Fia looked at them longingly, but only for a moment before she presented them to Arcan to take from her hands. They were still in the vault, Arcan's domain. And Fia was not ready to poke the bear in his own home. Fia hoped this gesture proved both genuine misunderstanding and willingness to amend the situation.

@Randomness

Stepan stepped sideways as Fia presented three trinkets. While the revelation caused Vesemir to struggle with another confusion, Arcan watched with solemn quietude. Neither troubled, nor amused, slightly irritated, maybe, but one could feel it wasn't because of the sifting but rather at the crafty attempt to minimize the disadvantage... at the moment where one should come clean.

“If Vesemir would be so kind then, might he claim this item as his second?”

Vesemir shot her a terrified glare. Eblana and Stepan backed a step further. In that moment where the curator weighed his options, a solution seemed to dawn on him. Yet he maintained his stony facade, and thus he spoke.

"This is the Sentinel Leaf-Broch," he hovered his fingers above that one trinket brazenly proposed to be claimed legally. It was a green piece of jewelry shaped like two green leaves conjoined by a silver star. Of everyone present in that room, Mr Elc and Jazdia seemed to know what it signifies, but neither elf said anything. "Awarded only to those who saved multiple souls from the brink. My master requisitioned one, enchanted it so that the bearer would be granted to remain steadfast even under duress. He intended to give it to a dear friend who spent decades taking care of Thealeone. The person in question refused, and here it is."

"While this," He continued coldly, his eyes set on a white gem the size of a palm. Strangely lightweight for a stone-crystal, with luster that glows vibrantly within. "Heart of Nuria. Or the imitation of it, according to my master. It temporarily produces light that wards off the darkest shadow. A reminder of the elven old Capital, to have it remain here and not in the Alkautsar, pained him greatly, but it was a wish that I could do nothing about."

The last one was another jewel made of gold and ruby. "It is supposed to make channeling fire magic easier, but it no longer holds its brilliance..."

He stared back at Fia and Vesemir before standing straight again. "Visitors, it is hard to forgive your action, but I find your honesty commendable. So I will give you options. You may surrender two of the three artifacts you took here and leave in peace." He beckoned at the flat surface of the fountain's rim. "Or you may take more than that with you, in which I must insist to see that you will use them to good use."

Cryptic as ever, the word 'insist' echoed in that hall as if the entire vault emphasized what the curator had just said. He took a calm, backward step, as if giving the party ample time to think.