The warning from Professor Selene changed their plans immediately.
Do not visit the observatory tomorrow.
Someone else is already searching it.
The message contained only a single sentence.
Yet that sentence raised dozens of questions.
Who was searching the observatory?
Why were they interested in the same location?
And how dangerous were they?
For the first time since beginning their investigation, Aren and Mira realized they weren’t alone.
Not just because of Professor Selene.
Not because of the mysterious librarian.
Not because of the ancient forces hidden beneath the academy.
There were actual people involved.
People actively searching for answers.
People moving through the academy’s hidden places.
And judging by the urgency of the warning, those people weren’t allies.
The following afternoon, Aren and Mira met in the Grand Library.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Students studied quietly throughout the reading halls.
Everything appeared normal.
Yet neither could relax.
Professor Selene’s warning remained fresh in their minds.
Mira spread several documents across the table.
“If we can’t investigate the observatory, we investigate something else.”
Aren nodded.
“Agreed.”
The question was what.
Several possibilities existed.
The Three Seals.
Records Prime.
The missing books.
The old librarian.
The list seemed endless.
Then Aren’s eyes landed on one particular document.
The erased records.
His disappearing name.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
Every clue eventually returned to the same mystery.
His name.
The name appearing throughout history.
The name someone was trying to remove.
Maybe that was where they should focus.
Maybe that was where the answers waited.
Hours passed.
The deeper they searched, the stranger the evidence became.
More records contained traces of erasure.
Blank spaces.
Missing entries.
Destroyed references.
Yet patterns remained.
Faint patterns.
Enough to follow.
Mira noticed something first.
“Look at the dates.”
Aren glanced toward the documents.
Several records lay side by side.
Different centuries.
Different authors.
Different locations.
Yet each contained signs of alteration.
“What about them?”
“The gaps.”
She pointed toward one page.
Then another.
Then a third.
Aren frowned.
At first, he didn’t understand.
Then realization struck.
Every missing reference pointed toward older records.
Not newer ones.
Older ones.
Much older.
As if someone wasn’t merely erasing information.
They were erasing origins.
The discovery changed everything.
Instead of examining recent records, they began focusing on the oldest surviving documents.
The First Academy era.
The restoration periods.
The fragmented archives.
Anything predating modern history.
The process proved difficult.
Many records had deteriorated.
Others remained incomplete.
Yet little by little, a picture emerged.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Not directly.
Because the name itself had been erased.
But traces remained.
References.
Titles.
Descriptions.
Mentions hidden between damaged lines.
Someone important.
Someone ancient.
Someone connected to the seals.
Late that evening, Mira uncovered a partially restored manuscript.
The document had been damaged centuries ago.
Yet magical restoration techniques preserved fragments of the original text.
Most pages remained unreadable.
Aren leaned closer.
The passage described an individual known only as:
The First Keeper.
Nothing unusual there.
Ancient organizations often had founders.
Then Aren noticed the date.
His eyes widened.
The manuscript predated every known academy record.
By centuries.
Possibly more.
“That’s impossible.”
Mira nodded slowly.
“I know.”
The First Keeper existed before the First Academy.
Before the restorations.
Before recorded academy history.
Which meant the academy itself might not be as old as its secrets.
The implications were staggering.
Aren continued reading.
Several lines remained intact.
Most referenced preservation.
Memory.
Knowledge.
Then he found something that made his blood run cold.
The First Keeper carried the forbidden name.
Aren froze.
The forbidden name.
Not a title.
Not a position.
A name.
The same erased name appearing throughout history.
The same name connected to missing records.
The same name that somehow kept leading back to him.
His pulse quickened.
Mira immediately noticed.
“What is it?”
Aren silently pointed toward the passage.
Her expression changed.
Neither spoke.
Because both reached the same conclusion.
The erased name belonged to someone far older than anyone realized.
Outside, thunder echoed across the mountains.
The storm intensified.
Lightning briefly illuminated the library windows.
The atmosphere felt strangely appropriate.
As though the world itself recognized the significance of the discovery.
Aren slowly turned another page.
More fragments appeared.
Additional references to the First Keeper.
The descriptions remained vague.
Frustratingly vague.
Yet certain details repeated consistently.
The Keeper guarded memory.
The Keeper maintained the seals.
The Keeper stood before the Throne.
Every major mystery seemed connected to this single figure.
And somehow, history had forgotten their name.
Or perhaps been forced to forget it.
Then they found the oldest surviving record.
A single page preserved inside a protective crystal case.
Most historians considered it meaningless.
The text appeared incomplete.
Damaged beyond recovery.
Yet now, viewed through the lens of their investigation, it seemed extraordinarily important.
The page contained only three readable lines.
Before kingdoms.
Before the First Age.
Before history remembered itself.
Aren stared.
The words felt impossible.
Because according to conventional history, civilization itself barely extended that far.
The manuscript referenced a period beyond recorded existence.
A time before historical records.
Before nations.
Before everything.
And yet someone had written about it.
Mira broke the silence.
“If this is accurate…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t need to.
Aren understood.
The erased name belonged to someone older than recorded history itself.
Not centuries old.
Not thousands of years old.
Potentially older than civilization.
The idea sounded absurd.
Yet the evidence kept pointing in the same direction.
The First Keeper wasn’t merely ancient.
The First Keeper existed before history began.
A sudden chill swept through the library.
Aren immediately recognized the sensation.
The whispers.
The same strange pressure.
The same ancient presence.
His heartbeat accelerated.
Mira noticed too.
“You feel that?”
Aren nodded.
The atmosphere seemed to thicken. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Time itself felt slower.
Then, for the briefest moment, he saw something.
Not a dream.
Not a memory.
A vision.
A towering figure standing beneath a sky filled with stars.
No kingdoms.
No cities.
No civilization.
Only endless wilderness.
The figure’s face remained hidden.
Yet one detail stood out clearly.
A symbol glowing on their hand.
The same symbol connected to the throne.
The same symbol appearing throughout the records.
Then the vision vanished.
Leaving only silence.
Aren nearly stumbled backward.
The library returned.
The tables.
The books.
The storm outside.
Everything appeared normal again.
Except his racing pulse.
Mira grabbed his arm.
“What happened?”
For several seconds, he couldn’t answer.
The vision felt too real.
Too vivid.
Eventually he managed:
“I saw someone.”
Her expression sharpened.
“Who?”
Aren looked down at the ancient manuscript.
Then toward the fading fragments.
Then back at Mira.
“I think…”
He hesitated.
Because saying the words felt dangerous.
Yet he said them anyway.
“I think I saw the First Keeper.”
The silence that followed seemed endless.
Because if Aren truly witnessed a memory connected to the First Keeper—
Then the connection was becoming stronger.
Much stronger.
The memories.
The dreams.
The visions.
They were accelerating.
Exactly as Professor Selene’s journal predicted.
Synchronization.
The word returned to his mind.
Every day, the connection deepened.
Every day, more fragments emerged.
And every day, the mystery grew more dangerous.
As midnight approached, they prepared to leave.
Yet before they could, Aren noticed something hidden beneath the crystal case.
A small inscription almost invisible to the naked eye.
Most people would never notice it.
He barely did.
Carefully, he leaned closer.
The faded words sent a chill through his entire body.
The name was erased.
The memory remained.
When the Keeper returns, history will remember.
Aren stared.
Then read it again.
And again.
Because the wording sounded disturbingly familiar.
Not arrival.
Return.
The same language used in the prophecy.
The same language appearing throughout the records.
Always the same implication.
Someone wasn’t expected to arrive.
Someone was expected to come back.
Far below Astryx Academy, deep beyond the First Seal, ancient darkness stirred.
For countless ages it had slept.
Waiting.
Listening.
Remembering.
The cracks across the seal widened slightly.
Golden runes dimmed.
Ancient barriers weakened.
And within the darkness, a voice whispered a single forgotten name.
A name erased from every record.
A name older than history.
A name the world had spent ages trying to forget.
The sound echoed through the void.
Soft.
Patient.
Certain.
As if the owner of that name had never truly vanished.
Only waited.
And somewhere above, Aren felt a strange pull deep within his chest.
A sensation he couldn’t explain.
A feeling that the answers were getting closer.
And that whatever truth waited at the center of the mystery…
Already knew who he was.