Rena didn't sleep.

  How could she? Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that symbol—the sun-eye from the Codex's cover—burning behind her eyelids. Her mind raced through possibilities, consequences, escape routes. None of them ended well.

  Around three in the morning, she gave up on pretending and sat at her desk, staring at the book by candlelight. Flick had finally gone dormant, or whatever passed for sleep when you were a sentient light construct. The sprite's glow had faded to a barely-visible shimmer curled up on her pillow.

  "Okay," Rena whispered to the Codex. "You wanted me to find you. I found you. Now what?"

  The book didn't respond. Just sat there, being mysterious and potentially apocalyptic.

  She reached out, hesitated, then placed her palm flat on the cover.

  Warmth flooded through her fingers. Not the burning intensity from yesterday, but a gentle heat, like sunlight through a window. The symbol began to glow, soft gold spreading across the leather.

  Words appeared on the first page, writing themselves in that luminous script:

  Knowledge is freely given to those who seek with honest hearts. What would you learn, Rena Ashvale?

  Her breath caught. It was actually responding. Not through Flick's interpretation, but directly.

  "I..." She licked her lips, thinking. What did she need to know? So many questions crowded her mind, but one rose above the rest. "How do I use you? How do I access your power?"

  The words faded, replaced by new ones:

  Power is not taken. It is earned through understanding. Close your eyes. Feel the lux that flows through all living things. You have touched it before—when you activate your stylus, when you read memory crystals. But you have never truly connected with it.

  Connect now.

  Rena closed her eyes. Tried to feel what the Codex described. She'd used basic light-weaving for years—minor manipulations that any apprentice learned. Lighting her stylus. Reading information from knowledge gems. Simple stuff.

  But this felt different.

  She became aware of energy moving through her body. Not blood, though that was there too. Something else. A current, warm and electric, flowing from her core out through her limbs and back again in an endless cycle. The lux flow. Life energy intertwined with light itself.

  Good, the Codex wrote, the words appearing in her mind's eye now. Now reach beyond yourself. Touch the lux in the world around you.

  She extended her awareness outward. And gasped.

  Everything was alive with light. The candle flame was obvious, but so was the wooden desk—storing solar energy absorbed decades ago. The stone walls held geothermal warmth. Even the air itself carried trace amounts of radiance, particles of luminescence too small to see but present nonetheless.

  And she could touch it. Shape it. With barely a thought, she drew a thread of light from the candle and wove it into a simple pattern—a star, hovering above her palm.

  "Holy ancestors," she breathed. The star rotated slowly, perfectly stable. She'd never managed anything like this before. Her training had covered theory, but actual light-weaving required years of practice and natural talent she didn't think she possessed.

  You possess it now, the Codex responded to her unspoken thought. I am teaching you. Uploading knowledge directly into your mind. The twelve Grandmasters spent lifetimes mastering these arts. You will learn them in weeks.

  The implications staggered her. If she could do this—if she could learn to manipulate reality itself through light—what else was possible?

  Everything, the Codex whispered. And nothing. Power without wisdom is destruction. Remember that, Seeker. The Grandmasters forgot. Their civilization paid the price.

  A knock at the door shattered her concentration. The light-star collapsed, returning to the candle. Rena's eyes flew open, heart racing.

  "Rena? You awake?" Kes's voice, muffled through the wood. Her roommate, home early from night shift.

  Rena shoved the Codex under her blanket, blew out the candle, and stumbled to the door, trying to look like she'd just woken up. She cracked it open. "Hey. You're back early."

  Kes looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her astronomy robes rumpled. "Observatory's closed. Emergency Archive-wide meeting in an hour. Everyone's required to attend." She squinted at Rena. "Were you studying? I saw light under your door."

  "Couldn't sleep. Reading." Not technically a lie.

  "Well, get some rest if you can. Meeting's mandatory, and Corvain personally posted the notice. Must be serious." Kes yawned, already heading to her own bed. "Wake me in forty-five?"

  "Sure."

  Rena closed the door, mind racing. An emergency meeting. Archive-wide. That couldn't be coincidence.

  Flick? she thought, reaching out through their connection.

  The sprite materialized instantly, no longer drowsy. I heard. Something's wrong. The Codex's awakening—someone detected it.

  "Who?"

  Could be anyone sensitive to lux fluctuations. Archive masters. Outside agents. Flick's glow pulsed with agitation. Or worse. The Voidbringers themselves.

  ---

  The Grand Archive's central amphitheater was designed to hold five hundred people comfortably. This morning, nearly seven hundred packed the circular stone benches, standing room only for late arrivals. The massive space buzzed with nervous energy and speculation.

  Rena found a spot near the back, keeping her satchel—now containing the Codex—close to her chest. She'd considered leaving it in her room, but the thought of being separated from it made her physically anxious. Better to keep it close.

  Smart, Flick whispered in her mind. If someone's searching for it, they'll look in your quarters first.

  "Comforting," she muttered under her breath.

  Magister Corvain stood at the amphitheater's center podium, along with four other senior magisters she recognized from formal ceremonies. But it was the sixth figure that caught her attention—a woman in midnight blue robes, standing apart from the others. She wore no rank insignia, no Archive identification. Her silver hair was pulled back severely from a face that could've been carved from ice.

  "Who's that?" Rena asked a fellow apprentice beside her.

  "No idea. Arrived this morning with some kind of authority seal. Even the Magisters are deferring to her."

  Not good.

  Corvain raised his staff, and silence fell instantly. His voice, amplified by basic lux-weaving, carried to every corner of the space.

  "Thank you for assembling on short notice. I'll be direct. Last night, our monitoring systems detected a significant lux disturbance originating from within the Archive itself. Sublevel seven, to be precise."

  Rena's blood turned to ice.

  "The disturbance was unlike anything in our records—a pulse of concentrated energy consistent with ancient artifacts activating or forbidden seals breaking. We've conducted a preliminary investigation, but found no obvious source."

  The silver-haired woman stepped forward. When she spoke, her voice carried the crisp authority of someone used to being obeyed. "I am Seeker Vex, from the Council of Radiant Preservation. For those unfamiliar, my organization monitors and contains dangerous artifacts across all territories."

  A few murmurs ran through the crowd. The Council had a reputation—efficient, ruthless, and utterly committed to preventing magical catastrophes by any means necessary.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "The energy signature we detected matches historical records from the Sundering Wars, three centuries past," Vex continued. "Specifically, it matches artifacts created by the Old Council's Grandmasters. If such an artifact has been awakened within these walls, it represents a catastrophic security breach."

  More murmurs, louder now. Rena forced herself to breathe normally, to not look guilty.

  Stay calm, Flick urged. They're fishing. They don't know what they're looking for yet.

  "Therefore," Vex said, her cold eyes scanning the crowd, "all Archive personnel will submit to voluntary lux scans. A simple procedure—it will detect any unusual energy signatures or recent contact with powerful artifacts. Those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear."

  Voluntary. Right. About as voluntary as a blade at your throat.

  "We'll begin with senior staff and work our way through apprentices. The process will take most of the day. You'll be called by name. Do not leave the city until cleared."

  Corvain looked distinctly uncomfortable with this, but he nodded. "Cooperation is expected. Dismissed to your duties unless called."

  The crowd began dispersing, conversations erupting. Rena stood frozen.

  We need to leave, Flick said urgently. Now. That scan will light you up like a festival beacon.

  "I can't just run. That's—"

  Rena Ashvale?

  She turned. A young man stood behind her, maybe a few years older, wearing Archive guard colors. He offered a professional smile. "Seeker Vex wants to see you. You worked sublevel seven yesterday, correct?"

  Oh no. Oh no no no.

  "I... yes. Cleaning up the collapsed shelf."

  "Perfect. She'd like to ask you a few questions. Just routine." His hand rested casually on the lux-baton at his belt. Casual, but ready.

  Rena had two choices. Go with him and hope the Codex's shielding held, or refuse and confirm every suspicion they had.

  "Of course," she heard herself say. "Lead the way."

  They descended into the Archive's administrative wing, down corridors Rena had never accessed before. The guard—he'd introduced himself as Taren—made pleasant small talk about the weather, completely at odds with the tension coiling in her gut.

  He stopped at an unmarked door. "Right in here. Seeker Vex is waiting."

  Rena stepped inside.

  The room was small, windowless, illuminated by cold lux-lamps that made everything look slightly blue. Seeker Vex sat behind a plain desk, and standing beside her—

  Rena's breath caught.

  The man was tall, lean, dressed in dark leather that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. His face was sharp angles and old scars, his eyes a peculiar amber color that didn't quite look human. Black hair shot through with silver fell past his shoulders.

  And he was staring directly at her satchel.

  "Miss Ashvale," Vex said, gesturing to the chair across from her. "Please, sit."

  Rena sat, clutching her satchel. Up close, the man radiated danger like other people radiated warmth. Every instinct screamed at her to run.

  "This is Daven Shadowmark," Vex introduced him. "Independent contractor specializing in artifact recovery. He's been instrumental in tracking dangerous relics." She folded her hands on the desk. "We understand you were working in sublevel seven when the disturbance occurred. Tell me about your experience there."

  Be honest where possible. Lie only when necessary.

  "I was sent to catalogue damaged items. A shelf had collapsed, scattered a lot of material. I spent most of the day sorting through debris—crystals, scrolls, pottery shards."

  "Did you encounter any unusual artifacts? Items that stood out?"

  "Everything down there was unusual, ma'am. Old preservation wards, ancient inscriptions. My head hurt from the residual energy."

  "Did you remove anything from the sublevel?"

  "No, ma'am. Just took notes for my report."

  Daven Shadowmark spoke for the first time, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk. "You're lying."

  Rena's heart stopped. "I—what?"

  He moved with liquid grace, circling around the desk to stand directly in front of her. This close, she could see his eyes weren't just amber—they flickered with internal light, like embers. "I can smell it on you. Old magic. Power that's been dormant for centuries, now awake and clinging to your aura like perfume."

  Don't panic, Flick whispered. He's reading your lux signature, but he can't know what you're carrying. Not for certain.

  "I worked in an old vault full of ancient magic," Rena said, forcing steadiness into her voice. "Of course some of it rubbed off."

  Daven leaned down, bringing his face level with hers. "Show me what's in your bag."

  Time seemed to slow. Rena's mind raced through scenarios. Refuse? They'd take it by force. Reveal the Codex? Game over. Run? The guard was blocking the door.

  A third option crystallized.

  She reached into her satchel—felt the Codex pulse once under her fingers—and pulled out her cataloguing notebook and a random memory crystal she'd forgotten to return yesterday.

  "My notes and a crystal I need to re-shelve. That's all."

  Daven's eyes narrowed. His hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. "You're—"

  The door burst open.

  Everyone turned. Magister Corvain stood in the doorway, his face thunderous. "Seeker Vex. A word. Now."

  Vex stood smoothly. "We're in the middle of—"

  "I don't care. My apprentice is being interrogated without counsel or just cause. This stops now, or I escalate to the Grand Council." His gray eyes were chips of ice. "Your organization may have authority over artifacts, but these are my people. My Archive. And I will not have them treated like criminals on mere suspicion."

  A tense silence filled the room. Daven released Rena's wrist, stepping back.

  Vex's expression didn't change, but Rena caught the calculation in her eyes. "Very well, Magister. We'll postpone this conversation." She looked at Rena. "You're dismissed. For now. Don't leave the city."

  Rena stood on shaking legs, grabbed her satchel, and walked out with as much dignity as she could muster. Corvain followed, closing the door behind them.

  The moment they were in the hallway, he gripped her shoulder. Not hard, but firm. "My office. Now."

  They walked in silence through the Archive's halls, past curious glances and whispered conversations. Corvain's office was on the fifth floor, a cluttered space filled with books, crystals, and three centuries of accumulated paperwork.

  He closed the door. Activated privacy wards with a gesture.

  Then he turned to face her, and Rena saw something in his expression she'd never seen before.

  Fear.

  "What did you find down there?" he asked quietly. "And please, Rena, don't lie to me. I just put my entire career on the line for you. I deserve the truth."

  Rena looked at this man—stern, demanding, but ultimately kind. The mentor who'd trained her for three years. Who'd just defended her against a Council Seeker.

  She made a decision.

  "If I tell you," she said slowly, "you become part of this. Whatever happens next, you'll be involved. Are you sure you want that?"

  Corvain studied her face for a long moment. Then he sat heavily in his chair. "I've been an archivist for forty-three years, Rena. I've catalogued wonders and horrors, preserved knowledge that could save lives or end them. And in all that time, I've learned one thing: when ancient magic wakes up, it wakes up for a reason." He met her eyes. "So yes. Tell me. What did you find?"

  Rena reached into her satchel. Pulled out the Codex.

  The moment it touched open air, its symbol blazed to life. Golden light filled the office, and words appeared, hovering in the air between them:

  MAGISTER CORVAIN ALDENHEART, MASTER ARCHIVIST AND GUARDIAN OF KNOWLEDGE. YOUR WORTH IS RECOGNIZED. SPEAK, AND I SHALL ANSWER.

  Corvain stared at the book, at the words, at the impossible thing sitting on his desk. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

  "By all the ancestors. The Codex Solis Invicti. I thought it was a myth."

  "It's very real," Rena said. "And apparently, I'm bonded to it. Which means Vex and her people are going to keep looking, keep pressing, until they find it."

  "Then we need to move it. Tonight." Corvain stood, his expression hardening into something like resolve. "I know people. Contacts outside the city. Safe houses where—"

  "No," Rena interrupted. "Running just delays the inevitable. The Codex has a purpose. There are others like me—Seekers—who need to be found. Pages scattered across the realm that need to be recovered. Hiding accomplishes nothing."

  "Then what do you propose?"

  Rena took a breath. "I need to leave Solmere. Find the other Seekers. Complete whatever task the Codex was created for." She looked at her mentor, her friend. "I'm asking you to let me go. To not stop me."

  Corvain was silent for a long moment. Then he moved to a cabinet, unlocked it with a complex ward-key, and pulled out a leather travel pack. He began filling it with supplies—preserved food, water purification crystals, a basic medical kit.

  "If you're going to do this," he said without looking at her, "you'll need proper supplies. And a convincing cover story." He pulled out a sealed document, broke the wax, and began writing. "I'm authorizing a research expedition. You're investigating historical sites related to the Sundering Wars. Perfectly legitimate. This will buy you time before Vex realizes you've left."

  "Corvain—"

  "Let me help you, Rena." He finally looked up, and she saw moisture in those stern gray eyes. "You're right. I can't stop you. But I can make sure you have a fighting chance."

  Warmth flooded her chest. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me yet. You'll need more than supplies." He returned to the cabinet, pulling out a small crystal pendant on a silver chain. "This was my grandmother's. It's a communication crystal, linked to its twin." He pulled out a matching pendant. "Crush it, and I'll know you need help. I'll come, wherever you are."

  Rena took the pendant with trembling hands. "I don't know what to say."

  "Say you'll be careful. Say you'll come back alive." His voice cracked slightly. "You're more than just an apprentice, Rena. You're... you've become like family."

  She hugged him then, this gruff, difficult man who'd pushed her harder than anyone. He held her for a moment, then gently set her back.

  "There's one more thing you need," he said. "Not supplies. A person." He moved to his desk, scrawled a quick note, and sealed it. "Take this to the Twilight Market. Ask for a woman named Lyris. She's... complicated. But if anyone can help you navigate what's coming, it's her."

  "Who is she?"

  "Someone who's been searching for the Codex almost as long as Vex has. But for very different reasons." He pressed the note into her hand. "Trust her, Rena. She's on your side."

  A distant bell chimed. Evening prayer hour.

  "You should go," Corvain said. "Collect what you need from your quarters. The Twilight Market opens at midnight. Be there."

  Rena nodded, shouldered her new pack, secured the Codex in her satchel. At the door, she paused.

  "Corvain? What you said earlier, about family. It goes both ways."

  He smiled, small and sad. "I know. Now go. Before I remember I'm supposed to be responsible and change my mind."

  She left his office, descended to street level, and stepped out into Solmere's amber twilight. The city stretched before her, beautiful and dangerous.

  That went better than expected, Flick commented.

  "We're not safe yet. Vex knows something's wrong. And that Daven guy—he's not going to stop looking."

  Then we find Lyris tonight and disappear before he gets another chance.

  Rena pulled her hood up and headed toward her quarters. She had hours to prepare. To pack. To say goodbye to a life she'd known for three years.

  And to prepare for whatever came next.

  Behind her, in the Archive's shadows, amber eyes watched her go. Daven Shadowmark stood perfectly still, almost invisible in the failing light. He'd followed her, of course. Knew exactly where she'd gone, what she'd revealed.

  But he hadn't intervened.

  A small smile crossed his scarred face. "So it begins again," he murmured to the darkness. "The Seekers rise. The Codex awakens. And the Void stirs in its sleep."

  He turned and melted into the shadows, leaving no trace he'd ever been there.

  The game was afoot.

  And Rena Ashvale, humble apprentice archivist, had just become the most important piece on the board.

  ---