Chapter 44 The First Archive
Pell leaned closer to the fire, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There’s an old rumor that’s been circulating among exiles and border scribes for years. Beneath the oldest empire…the First Dominion.. there’s an archive. The real one. Not the sanitized version the Pantheon allows the public to see. Records from before they rewrote history entirely."
Darius looked up sharply, genuine strategic interest flashing in his eyes. "Pre-Pantheon records?"
Pell nodded. "Supposedly contains the original creation documents. How they made the Calamities. Why they did it. And maybe… why your bloodline was cursed the way it was. Some say the archive holds truths the gods themselves tried to bury."
The camp fell into a heavy silence.
Mara’s golden eyes narrowed with immediate distrust. "Divine history is rarely honest. I distrust anything the Pantheon left behind, especially something they tried to hide."
Veth snorted and leaned back against a tree. "Archives? Dust and dead words. I hate them on principle. Give me a battlefield over dusty shelves any day. At least fighting has honesty."
Solis watched Darius carefully, her sorrowful expression thoughtful. "If the Pantheon created us as weapons… then someone may have also created the conditions to survive us. That archive could explain much about all of us."
Darius stared into the fire, his mind already turning rapidly. "If the Pantheon engineered the Calamities, and they also engineered my bloodline’s curse… then this is not coincidence. It is design. We need to see those records."
Pell rubbed his face wearily. "The route there is bad news. It crosses territory thick with elite Husband Hunters. The dangerous kind. Not the reckless idiots you’ve been dealing with. These ones coordinate. They plan. They adapt."
Veth grinned fiercely. "Good. I was getting bored again. A proper challenge sounds excellent."
Mara shook her head. "We are already carrying three bonds. Darius’s body is under enough strain. Walking straight into a heavily guarded hornet’s nest is reckless."
Darius stood up slowly, brushing dirt from his cloak. "We go anyway. If there are answers about my curse and the Calamities’ true origins, we cannot ignore them. The Pantheon is already moving against us. Knowledge is the only real advantage we have left."
Solis spoke softly, her voice carrying quiet warning. "The First Archive is buried deep. Protected by old wards and older guardians. Dangerous even for beings like us."
"Then we prepare carefully," Darius said. "Pell, you coming with us?"
Pell sighed deeply. "Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed being noble and stupid while reading dusty books. Count me in."
They broke camp at first light and began the long, dangerous journey toward the oldest empire. The road grew more treacherous with every mile. Signs of heightened enemy activity appeared everywhere, fresh tracks from large armed groups, burned-out watch posts, and patrols moving with clear purpose and discipline.
Veth walked with her axe ready, eyes bright. "I smell professionals. This will be fun."
Mara stayed close to Darius. "You are pushing yourself too hard. The three powers inside you are still fighting for dominance. Adding this kind of strain now is dangerous."
"I know," Darius replied quietly. "But if someone in the Pantheon created both the Calamities and the conditions to survive them, I need to know why. This is no longer just about survival. This is about understanding the game we are trapped in."
Solis walked gracefully beside them. "The hunger inside you grows every day. I can feel it echoing in you. Be careful, Darius. Knowledge has its own kind of emptiness. Its own kind of danger."
They traveled for days, avoiding main roads and slipping through contested territories. Twice they had to fight small groups of elite Husband Hunters. Darius used his powers with growing precision, but each use left him paler. The black veins appeared more frequently under his skin before vanishing again.
Pell noticed everything. "You’re deteriorating faster. Don’t think I haven’t seen it."
Darius didn’t deny it. "We are close now."
On the final night before reaching the border of the oldest empire, they made camp in the ruins of an old watchtower. As the others prepared food and set watch rotations, Darius stepped outside alone to check the perimeter.
He stopped near one of the crumbling outer walls.
There, burned fresh into the ancient stone, was a symbol only he could see. It glowed faintly with an energy that felt both familiar and deeply wrong.
Underneath it, three words had been carved with precise, elegant strokes:
\[RETURN TO US.\]
Darius stared at the message for a long time. The symbol pulsed once, as if acknowledging his presence, then slowly faded from sight.
He reached out and touched the stone. It was still warm.
Someone, or something, was waiting for him at the First Archive.
And they already knew he was coming.