Chapter 87: Ch85. Pain as a teacher (9) - The Archivist
The corridor stretched before them, the red sigil painted many more times along the walls, glowing faintly like a heartbeat pulsing in the dark.
Miles felt the shift in the air immediately.
This place was different from the rest of the Black Market. It was quieter, heavier, as if the very stone walls were watching them. Every step they took seemed to echo just a fraction longer than it should, lingering in the stale underground air.
Mara walked ahead, her silver hair catching the dim light of the sigil’s glow. Sarissa followed closely behind, her movements careful but without hesitation. Miles, bringing up the rear, couldn’t shake the feeling of unseen eyes tracking them.
"You sure about this?" Mara asked again, her voice hushed but sharp. "The Archivist isn’t someone you just drop in on unannounced."
"We don’t have a choice," Miles muttered, keeping his pace steady. "We need to know what we’re dealing with, also... Your friend back there said that they might be interested and let us in, if we had something of value, and I do..."
Sarissa barely reacted to Miles’ words, but her posture changed ever so slightly, tauter, her fingers flexing near her weapon as they reached the end of the passage.
A heavy iron door loomed before them, marked with deep carvings resembling intertwined roots and jagged symbols. The sigil on the walls pulsed in tandem with the engravings, the energy coiling around the threshold like an unseen lock.
"I... Where do I know these symbols from...?" Sarissa muttered under a breath, and Miles immediately retorted.
"The Hall of The Seers."
A tense silence fell over them as Mara stepped forward and knocked, not with her knuckles but with the flat of her palm.