Echoes of the Lost Elf-Chapter 33 - 32 : The Market

A deafening voice echoed through the chamber, shaking it to its very core. The enchanted stone walls of Castellas Academy trembled under the force, runes flickering as if startled by the sheer volume. A few loose tomes from nearby shelves tumbled to the ground, and even the ever-burning crystal lamps overhead flickered momentarily.

"YOU IDIOT!!!"

Aldren Vaelthorn, a battle-hardened general feared across the continent, nearly flinched at the sheer force of Historias' outburst. The High Elf, usually the picture of elegance and composure, had lost all pretense of restraint.

"Let me get this straight," Historias pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "You—you of all people—decided to hide the Void Monarch's Core in Everglen Palace?" His piercing golden eyes locked onto Aldren, his glare carrying the weight of a thousand disappointments.

Aldren, sensing danger, raised his hands defensively. "Now, before you start vaporizing people with your mind, let me just say— we didn't have a choice!"

Historias took a step forward. "Didn't. Have. A. Choice?" His tone was deathly calm. "You hid an artifact of world-ending corruption in the most sacred High Elven palace, a place revered for millennia before it was even handed to me!" He gestured dramatically. "Tell me, Aldren, did you also consider storing it under a child's pillow? Perhaps burying it in the academy garden for students to stumble upon?"

Aldren cleared his throat, attempting to look dignified. "We thought it'd be safe! You know, strong magical barriers, divine enchantments, centuries of elven blessings—"

Historias cut him off with a deadpan stare. "Oh, yes. I'm sure that worked wonders against a core of unspeakable darkness and corruption. Did it ask politely before spreading its influence? 'Pardon me, sacred enchantments, may I come in?'"

Aldren shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, in hindsight, maybe not the best idea—"

"Maybe?"

"—but listen! It was either that or leave it in a less secure location where literally anyone could get their hands on it."

"Ah, yes, because clearly, no one has been trying to steal it already!" Historias threw his hands up. "And how, pray tell, did that go?"

Aldren coughed. "Well... someone did attempt to steal it."

"Shocking," Historias said flatly.

"But we stopped them!" Aldren said quickly. "Mostly. Kind of. Technically."

Historias stared at him as if considering whether strangling an old friend was worth the effort. "I assume this is related to the recent attack on Castellas Academy?"

Aldren nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... the same people who attacked the students during the entrance exam. They got their hands on a fragment of the core and used it to mutate the monsters in Nazara Forest. You should've seen them—horrifying creatures, writhing with corrupted energy—"

"Yes, I was the one who dealt with that mess," Historias reminded him sharply. "Do continue, though, I do so love hearing about my own problems secondhand."

Aldren ignored the sarcasm and pressed on. "Anyway, we managed to capture some of them alive, and we're currently interrogating them."

Historias sighed, massaging his temple. "I suppose that's something. Meanwhile, I'll have to move the core to someplace far more secure before some misguided fool decides to have it for breakfast."

"Wait, where exactly do you plan on moving it?" Aldren asked warily.

Historias smirked, the glint of a plan forming in his eyes. "I may have an idea."

Aldren immediately frowned. "I don't like that look."

....

Historias let out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his temples as if the sheer stupidity of the situation had physically pained him. "And what, pray tell, did you tell the others?"

Aldren coughed, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the stone floor. "Well... they had a lot of questions about you, obviously."

"Of course they did," Historias deadpanned. "A thousand years of absence, and I miraculously reappear, only to vanish again the moment trouble arises? Even a dullard would find that suspicious. So, Aldren—what excuse did you give them?"

Aldren looked off to the side, feigning an innocent expression. "Oh, nothing too outrageous. I simply told them that you suddenly contacted me through a communication scroll and said, 'Someone broke the seal. I will not be able to come.' Then I abruptly ended the communication."

There was a pause.

Historias blinked. "...That's it?"

Aldren nodded, looking rather pleased with himself.

Historias exhaled sharply through his nose. "You fool."

"Hey, it was short, simple, and left no room for follow-up questions!" Aldren said defensively.

Historias shot him a flat stare. "And you think that helped?"

Aldren shrugged. "Well... no. I'm pretty sure they didn't buy it. In fact, I could practically feel their skepticism through their eyes. Valak stared at me so intensely I thought he was trying to set me on fire through sheer willpower."

Historias groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Wonderful. So now, instead of a plausible excuse, they think I'm hiding some grand, unspeakable secret."

Aldren crossed his arms. "You are hiding a grand, unspeakable secret."

"Yes, but they didn't need to know that," Historias shot back.

Aldren chuckled. "Look, I did what I could. The moment I mentioned a broken seal, half of them immediately started speculating which seal, what it meant, whether it was tied to the Void Monarch, and if the world was on the brink of another calamity. By the time I could add anything else, they were already debating among themselves like a council of paranoid scholars."

Historias sighed. "And how long before they decide to pry further?"

Aldren tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, let's see... Valak will likely come storming in if he hears anything remotely related to you."

"And Evelyn is going to find out everything related to the attack by the end of the week. I will also let her know about the monarch's core, it will surely help speed things up. And if Princess Adriana gets involved, she might rally a whole investigation squad by tomorrow morning."

Historias shook his head, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You truly are useless."

"Glad we agree," Aldren said cheerfully.

Historias groaned again. "Very well. I suppose we'll see what comes of the situation tomorrow morning."

Aldren clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit."

Historias shot him a withering glare. "I will remember this, Aldren."

Aldren grinned. "Oh, I sincerely hope so."

...

A week had passed since the attack on Castellas Academy. While not all details had been made public, Historias had—ever so conveniently—learned everything from Adriana. Apparently, an elusive organization known as Nyxveil was behind the incident. Not much was known about them, except for one critical detail: their ranks were filled with Void Contractors.

It was Saturday. No classes, no obligations—just the perfect time for doing absolutely nothing.

Historias lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating whether he should spend the day reading, napping, or both. He had just decided on the latter when a sudden knock on the door disrupted his peace.

He sighed. Who dares disturb my sacred day of idleness?

Reluctantly, he rose and went to open the door. Standing outside were Zephyr and Leon, looking far too energetic for his liking.

"Wanna go out?" Zephyr grinned.

Historias raised an eyebrow. "Go out? Where?"

"Outside the academy," Leon replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Historias gave them a blank stare. "You can do that?"

"Yeah, man. You just need permission from the academy and have to be back before curfew," Zephyr explained.

Leon smirked. "And lucky for you, we already took care of it. We sent a letter to Aldren asking permission on your behalf, and—surprise, surprise—he agreed."

Historias blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yep," Zephyr nodded. "So, you coming or what?"

Historias exhaled. "Since you've already dealt with all the tedious work, why not?"

"That's the spirit," Leon grinned. "Now let's go get Adriana and Kael."

At the Dormitory Entrance

The four of them met at the academy gates, where a few other students were preparing for their own outings. Adriana looked particularly eager, arms crossed as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Took you long enough," she huffed. "I was about to leave without you."

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Kael, standing beside her, chuckled. "You say that, but we both know you'd never pass up the chance to see how Historias handles himself outside the academy."

Adriana shot him a look but said nothing, instead turning to Historias. "So? Any ideas where we're going?"

Historias waved a hand lazily. "I was under the impression you were the ones dragging me along."

"Well, we were thinking of heading to Dismuth Market," Zephyr said. "It's got all sorts of interesting shops—magic artifacts, rare materials, food stalls—you name it."

Leon grinned. "And there's a combat arena too, in case anyone's feeling competitive."

Adriana's eyes sparkled with interest. "Now that sounds fun."

Historias sighed. "Of course it does."

Kael adjusted his quiver. "I wouldn't mind checking out some enchanted equipment. I've heard Dismuth has some of the best crafters in the region."

Zephyr clapped his hands together. "Alright, then it's settled! To Dismuth!"

Historias gave them all a slow look before shaking his head. This is going to be exhausting.

With that, they stepped through the academy gates, into the portal.

.....

Power Stones, please

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