The old collection catalogue remained open on the computer screen.
On the yellowed handwritten inventory, the third entry from the bottom contained only a brief description.
One black ring.
Origin: Eremon Old Site.
Most of what followed had been covered with heavy black ink, but several letters were still faintly visible beneath the stain.
ACHERON.
Acheron.
Thalia stared at the name for a while.
The warmth in the obsidian ring gradually faded until the stone returned to its usual temperature.
This was no longer the first time the ring had reacted to Acheron.
What interested her more was the age of the catalogue itself.
The four letters from 1996 proved only that Adrian and the unknown writer had investigated Acheron.
This older collection record suggested something much more important—the connection between Acheron and a black ring had existed long before that.
Thalia looked back at the screen.
“Do we know when this catalogue was made?”
Ivan opened the archive information and checked everything available.
“There’s no exact date for the original document, but according to the museum’s registration records, these objects were added to the collection sometime between the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.”
“What happened to the ring?”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
Ivan followed the collection number through the surviving records.
The private museum had closed decades ago, and its collection had been divided and transferred several times afterward.
Some objects had gone to local museums, while others had been purchased by private collectors.
Anything without complete transfer records was now difficult to trace.
The black ring was one of them.
There was no later transfer number beside the entry and no name of a buyer.
At the end of the record was only a badly faded handwritten note.
Ivan enlarged the image.
They studied the blurred writing for some time before finally making out two words.
Returned.
Original site.
There appeared to have been a date after them, but it was no longer legible.
Thalia considered the note.
“If ‘original site’ means the Eremon site, then someone eventually took the ring back there.”
“Most likely.”
“But why?”
Ivan had no answer.
Nothing in the surviving records explained it.
An artifact already held in a private collection would normally have been transferred to another institution or sold to a private collector.
A note saying it had been returned to the original site was unusual.
Unless whoever had handled the ring believed it should never have been removed from Eremon in the first place.
Thalia instinctively looked at her left hand.
She still had no proof that the black ring listed in the catalogue was the same one now on her finger.
But the color, the place it had come from, and Acheron’s deliberately erased name made coincidence increasingly difficult to believe.
Ivan searched for a while longer, but no later record of the ring appeared.
When Thalia finally glanced at the clock on the wall, it was almost nine in the evening.
The museum staff had already gone home.
The exhibition halls outside were dark, with only a few lights still on in the archive room and corridor.
They had barely stopped since entering Eremon Manor that afternoon.
Continuing now was unlikely to produce much more.
Ivan seemed to reach the same conclusion.
“That’s enough for tonight.
We’ll continue tomorrow.”
Thalia nodded.
They returned the four letters and floor plans to their protective sleeves.
The black metal plaque they had found inside the dark red cloth was stored separately.
Tomorrow, they would try to find someone familiar with old scripts who might be able to identify the inscription on its back.
Once everything was secured, they shut down the computer, turned off the lights, and left the museum together.
The temperature had dropped considerably since afternoon.
Ivan went around to the rear parking area to get the car while Thalia waited near the museum’s side entrance.
The street was busy enough during the day, but at this hour it had grown quiet.
Most of the nearby shops had already closed.
Streetlights lined both sides of the road, and the occasional car passed in the distance before disappearing around the next corner.
Thalia checked her phone.
A message from Ivan had just arrived.
A car was blocking the parking exit.
He told her he would be a little longer.
She replied with a quick Okay and was about to put her phone away when a sudden chill spread through the obsidian ring.
Thalia stopped.
This was different.
The ring was not growing warm.
It was turning cold.
Since it had appeared on her finger, she had gradually become used to its occasional changes in temperature.
Until now, however, almost every reaction had involved heat.
This was the first time it had become so cold.
She looked down.
Nothing had changed on the surface of the ring, but the cold did not fade.
Instead, it slowly crept from her finger into her hand.
Thalia immediately raised her head and looked around.
The street was empty.
Nothing near the museum seemed unusual.
She watched her surroundings for several seconds and was just about to call Ivan when she heard quiet footsteps behind her.
Thalia turned at once.
A man was standing near the side entrance.
He looked to be around forty, dressed in a dark gray overcoat.
His face was ordinary enough that she probably would not have remembered him if she had passed him in a crowd.
But something was wrong.
She had been standing there the entire time.
She had never heard him approach.
The man said nothing at first.
He simply looked at her.
Then his gaze slowly lowered to her left hand.
“Finally.”
Thalia did not answer.
She took a quiet step backward.
“Who are you?”
The man seemed not to hear the question.
His attention remained fixed on the obsidian ring.
“Give me the ring.”
Thalia’s expression cooled.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we take you with it.”
His tone was perfectly calm, as though he were discussing something entirely ordinary.
Thalia tightened her grip on her phone.
Whoever this man was, he had come here specifically for the ring.
He knew what it was and had probably been searching for it for a long time.
More importantly, the ring was now painfully cold.
Nothing like the warmth she associated with Acheron.
The man took a step toward her.
Thalia stepped back.
“There are cameras here.”
“Nothing will be recorded tonight.”
The nearest streetlight flickered.
Then another.
Both went dark.
The street around them dimmed instantly.
Even the distant sound of traffic seemed to fade, as though something had cut this small section of the street away from everything beyond it.
Thalia understood then that the man in front of her was not ordinary.
He extended one hand.
“Come with me.”
Thalia had no intention of doing that.
She turned toward the museum, but before she could reach the entrance, the side door slammed shut on its own.
She grabbed the handle and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Only minutes earlier, she had walked through that same door.
Now it felt as though something on the other side had sealed it completely.
Footsteps approached behind her.
Thalia immediately abandoned the door, moved away from it, and called Ivan.
No signal.
The call would not connect.
The man watched her without the slightest concern.
“It’s useless.
From the moment you put on that ring, you were never going to live an ordinary life again.”
Thalia stared at him.
“You know what this ring is?”
For the first time, he smiled faintly.
“Of course.
That’s why we’ve been looking for it for so long.”
“We?”
Thalia caught the word immediately.
The man did not explain.
“You don’t need to know that yet.”
A sudden coldness spread beneath Thalia’s feet.
She looked down.
A faint black shadow had begun creeping across the pavement toward her.
It did not behave like a normal shadow.
It had no fixed shape, and its edges shifted like dark water as it moved over the ground.
Thalia stepped aside at once.
The shadow accelerated.
Before she could move farther, it wrapped around her ankle.
A sharp cold shot through her leg.
Her body stiffened.
When she tried to lift her foot, she found that her right leg would not move at all, as though something had pinned it firmly to the ground.
Only then did the man begin walking toward her again.
“Don’t struggle.
We have no intention of hurting you for now.”
Thalia gave him a cold look.
“That isn’t nearly as reassuring as you think it is.”
He seemed unconcerned.
As he drew closer, the shadow around Thalia’s ankle began climbing higher.
Then the obsidian ring changed.
The freezing cold vanished.
Heat surged through the stone without warning.
Thalia barely had time to react before a faint cracking sound came from below.
The shadow climbing her leg stopped.
A second later, something invisible seemed to tear straight through it.
The darkness shattered into black mist.
The man’s expression changed instantly.
He was no longer looking at Thalia.
His head snapped up, his gaze fixed on something behind her.
Thalia turned.
Someone now stood in the street that had been empty only moments earlier.
Acheron.
He stood only a few steps away, dressed entirely in black, the long fabric of his coat moving slightly in the night breeze.
His expression was as unreadable as ever.
Yet the moment Thalia saw him, some of the tension in her body eased before she could stop it.
“Acheron.”
The obsidian ring warmed again as she spoke his name.
Acheron did not answer immediately.
His eyes went to Thalia first.
Only after confirming that she was unharmed did he look at the stranger.
The man who had been so calm only moments ago had visibly changed.
He even took an unconscious step backward.
“You…”
Acheron regarded him without expression.
“Who gave you permission to touch her?”
The man said nothing.
The black mist scattered across the pavement suddenly gathered again, but this time it did not move toward Thalia.
Instead, it rose between the man and Acheron.
Clearly, whatever his original intentions had been, he had abandoned them the moment he recognized Acheron.
The mist thickened until it completely obscured him.
Thalia stepped back.
By the time the darkness dispersed, the man was gone.
At the same moment, the streetlights came back on.
The distant sound of traffic returned.
Within seconds, everything around them seemed normal again, as though nothing unusual had happened.
Thalia stared at the empty place where the man had been before turning to Acheron.
“You’re just letting him go?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going after him?”
“There’s no need.”
Acheron’s gaze settled briefly on the ring on her left hand.
“If they’ve already found you, catching this one changes nothing.”
The little relief Thalia had felt disappeared.
“Who are they?”
Acheron did not answer immediately.
Thalia had no intention of letting the question go.
“He said we.
He knew about the ring, he knew about me, and he said they’ve been searching for it for a long time.
You know who they are, don’t you?”
Acheron was silent for a moment.
“People who should never have appeared again.”
Thalia waited.
Nothing else followed.
“That’s it?”
“Knowing too much right now won’t help you.”
Thalia almost sighed.
She had spent the entire day reading old letters written by people who seemed determined to explain only half of everything they knew.
Now she finally had someone standing in front of her who clearly knew the truth, and Acheron was doing exactly the same thing.
“Do all of you do this?”
Acheron looked at her.
“Do what?”
“Say half of something and stop.”
Thalia raised her left hand, showing him the obsidian ring.
“What is this ring?
Why do those people want it?
Why is the room at the deepest end of Eremon Manor connected to you?
And the letters we found today said—”
She stopped.
The damaged line from the fourth letter came back to her.
The ring.
The pact.
And—
Bride.
Thalia, who had been questioning him without hesitation only seconds earlier, suddenly fell quiet.
Acheron noticed.
“What did the letter say?”
“Nothing.”
Thalia lowered her hand as though it did not matter.
“You probably wouldn’t tell me anything even if I asked.”
Acheron watched her for a moment but did not press the issue.
Then hurried footsteps sounded from the direction of the parking area.
“Thalia!”
Ivan came toward them quickly.
He had clearly rushed over as soon as he realized he could no longer reach her.
Only when he saw her standing there unharmed did some of the tension leave his face.
Thalia spoke first.
“Ivan, I’m fine.”
He still looked her over carefully before seeming satisfied that she was not injured.
Only then did he notice Acheron standing nearby.
Ivan slowed.
Acheron looked at him as well.
Their eyes met briefly.
Then both looked away.
Thalia did not notice the subtle pause between them.
She checked her phone instead.
The signal had returned.
The electronic lock on the museum’s side door was working again too.
Whatever had isolated this part of the street had disappeared completely.
But Thalia knew that what happened tonight was far from over.
If anything, it had confirmed something much more troubling.
Acheron was not the only one searching for the obsidian ring.
And now, whoever had been hiding in the shadows knew that she was the one wearing it.
Thalia was about to leave with Ivan when Acheron spoke behind her.
“Thalia.”
She stopped and turned.
Acheron remained where he was, surrounded by the darkness of the street, but his expression had become more serious.
“Starting tonight, don’t stay alone.”
Thalia frowned.
“They’ll come back?”
Acheron did not deny it.
“Yes.”
The night wind moved down the street, stirring the hem of his black coat.
Acheron looked at her for another moment before adding,
“And next time, they won’t send someone as weak as him.”