Aren spent the next two days trying to decide whether he trusted Professor Selene.
The answer changed every few hours.
On one hand, she had been secretly investigating him since his arrival at Astryx Academy.
She had hidden information.
Kept secrets.
Recorded events without his knowledge.
None of those things inspired confidence.
On the other hand, she had also warned him.
Protected him.
And, perhaps most importantly, she had not reported him after discovering him inside the hidden archive.
Instead, she had offered help.
The problem was understanding why.
Mira seemed equally uncertain.
Which meant both of them spent most of their free time analyzing every interaction they had ever had with their professor.
The results were inconclusive.
Unfortunately.
The academy continued operating normally.
Classes proceeded.
Assignments accumulated.
Students worried about examinations.
Life appeared ordinary.
Yet beneath the surface, something had changed.
Aren noticed it immediately.
Professor Selene was watching him less.
At least openly.
The constant scrutiny that had followed him for weeks seemed to disappear.
At first, he thought he was imagining it.
Then Mira confirmed it.
“She’s doing it on purpose.”
Aren glanced across the classroom.
Professor Selene lectured normally.
Nothing seemed unusual.
“What do you mean?”
Mira lowered her voice.
“She’s pretending not to watch you.”
That sounded ridiculous.
Until Aren paid closer attention.
Then he realized Mira was right.
Professor Selene deliberately avoided looking in his direction.
Almost excessively.
As though she wanted others to believe she had lost interest.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The first sign of help appeared three days later.
It happened during Magical History.
Professor Selene assigned a research project involving ancient academy architecture.
Most students groaned.
Aren immediately became suspicious.
Especially when she handed out topic lists.
His assignment stood out instantly.
Foundational Structural Archives: Restricted Historical Development
Aren read the title twice.
Then looked toward the professor.
Professor Selene continued distributing assignments as though nothing unusual had happened.
Yet when their eyes briefly met, she gave the slightest nod.
Almost invisible.
Most students would never notice.
Aren did.
The message was clear.
The assignment mattered.
A lot.
That afternoon, he met Mira in the library.
She examined the assignment sheet.
Then looked up.
“She gave you this intentionally.”
“No doubt.”
The title alone made that obvious.
Restricted Historical Development.
The words practically screamed hidden secrets.
Together they began searching relevant records.
The assignment provided official access to sections of the archives previously unavailable to first-year students.
That alone was valuable.
Yet the true discovery waited deeper within the records.
Several hours later, Aren uncovered a reference hidden inside an architectural report.
A simple notation.
Easy to miss.
Yet impossible to ignore once found.
Access routes to Records Prime updated following containment event.
Records Prime.
Again.
The hidden archive’s original source.
The place they still hadn’t located.
Mira leaned closer.
“That’s new.”
Aren nodded.
Very new.
And remarkably convenient.
Almost as though someone wanted them to find it.
Small clues appeared everywhere.
Never obvious.
Never direct.
Yet always useful.
An incorrectly shelved book containing references to the Three Seals.
A damaged map revealing previously hidden tunnels.
A research index pointing toward forgotten academy foundations.
Each discovery moved them forward.
Each discovery seemed impossibly fortunate.
Eventually Mira voiced what both were thinking.
“She’s leaving clues.”
Aren closed the book he was reading.
“Professor Selene.”
“Obviously.”
There weren’t many alternatives.
The clues appeared too consistently.
Too precisely.
Always where they needed them.
Never where random chance would place them.
The professor wasn’t openly helping.
She couldn’t.
But she was quietly guiding them.
Leaving a trail.
And for some reason, that realization made Aren trust her slightly more.
Not completely.
But more.
Three nights later, the most significant clue arrived.
Aren returned to his dormitory after a long evening of research.
The room appeared empty.
Normal.
Nothing unusual.
Until he noticed the envelope resting on his desk.
His name was written across the front.
No sender.
No identifying marks.
Just one word.
Aren.
His pulse quickened.
Carefully, he opened it.
A single sheet of paper waited inside.
No greeting.
No explanation.
Only a sketch.
A detailed sketch of part of the academy’s underground structure.
Several sections had been highlighted.
One location circled repeatedly.
Beside it were three words.
Old Observatory Vault.
Aren stared.
The location wasn’t marked on any official map.
Nor had they encountered it before.
Yet something about it felt important.
Very important.
At the bottom of the page appeared a familiar symbol.
Not a signature.
Not a name.
Just a small silver rune.
Aren recognized it immediately.
Professor Selene often used the symbol while teaching advanced magical theory.
The message couldn’t have been clearer.
The following day, he showed the sketch to Mira.
Her reaction was immediate.
“That’s definitely from her.”
Aren nodded.
The evidence felt overwhelming.
The professor had officially joined the investigation.
Even if she pretended otherwise.
The question now became why.
Why help them?
Why not simply explain everything?
Why maintain secrecy?
Mira considered the problem carefully.
Then arrived at a conclusion.
“Someone’s watching her.”
Aren froze.
The possibility had never occurred to him.
Yet it immediately made sense.
Professor Selene wasn’t hiding information from them.
She was hiding information from someone else.
Someone powerful enough to concern her.
Someone connected to the academy.
The realization changed everything.
Because if even Professor Selene had to be careful, then the mystery extended far beyond ancient records.
There were active players involved.
People with agendas.
People protecting secrets.
That evening, another unexpected event occurred.
Nothing unusual.
At least initially.
Then she paused before a diagram showing the academy’s original structure.
Her pointer hovered briefly over one specific location.
The Old Observatory.
Only for a second.
Then she continued the lecture.
Most students never noticed.
Aren did.
Mira did too.
A second clue.
A confirmation.
The observatory mattered.
Later that night, they met in one of the academy gardens.
Moonlight illuminated the pathways.
Silver-leaf trees swayed gently in the breeze.
The atmosphere felt peaceful.
A stark contrast to the growing mystery.
Mira sat beside the fountain.
Aren unfolded the observatory sketch once more.
“What do you think is there?”
She considered the question.
“Records.”
“Probably.”
“Or answers.”
Aren hoped she was right.
Because answers were becoming desperately necessary.
The investigation had expanded dramatically.
The Three Seals.
The Throne.
The Awakener.
Records Prime.
The missing books.
The erasures.
His name appearing throughout history.
Every clue raised new questions.
Very few provided solutions.
Suddenly, footsteps approached.
Both immediately tensed.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Not a student.
Not a professor.
An academy messenger.
The young man handed Aren a folded note.
Then left without explanation.
Confused, Aren opened it.
His eyes widened instantly.
The handwriting belonged to Professor Selene.
The message contained only one sentence.
Do not visit the observatory tomorrow.
Someone else is already searching it.
Silence followed.
Mira slowly looked up.
Aren reread the note.
Then again.
The warning felt urgent.
Specific.
And slightly alarming.
Someone else.
Not Professor Selene.
Not them.
Someone searching for the same answers.
Someone moving through the academy’s hidden places.
The realization sent a chill down Aren’s spine.
Because until now, the investigation had felt private.
Secret.
Isolated.
Now they knew the truth.
They weren’t the only ones looking.
Far above the academy, hidden within her office, Professor Selene stood beside a window.
The storm clouds had returned.
Lightning flashed across the distant horizon.
In her hands rested another report.
One she clearly disliked.
The report listed unauthorized movements throughout several restricted academy sectors.
Including the Old Observatory.
Her expression darkened.
Because the names attached to those movements belonged to people she did not trust.
People who should never reach the seals.
People who believed awakening the past was worth any cost.
Quietly, she folded the report.
Then looked toward the distant dormitories.
Toward the students she had spent weeks investigating.
And now, unexpectedly, protecting.
Because the game surrounding the seals was changing.
New players were moving.
Old secrets were surfacing.
And the race toward the truth had officially begun.