They woke up with the sun, taking some time to double-check their equipment, and broke camp shortly after breakfast, and walked toward their destination, about ten minutes away.

  They approached the archive, senses sharp, on the lookout for the defences the adventurer's report had mentioned.

  Where the archive's grounds started, the forest ended. They stopped within the cover of the trees and observed the path ahead. The large pavement stones ahead of them were mostly cracked and weathered, but a few of them looked... not new, but less ancient. Some even looked to have been patched and repaired.

  From this close, they could tell the building itself had received a similar treatment, with its facade the story of the battle between the ravages of time held back at bay by desperate and barely appropriate repairs.

  They waited for a while, but only the distant sounds of the forest reached them. The archive remained lifeless from where they were. With a shared glance, the group resumed their march, Jordo up front.

  His being a Luminous Reign golem, they figured he wouldn't be attacked outright.

  They walked up the stone stairs to the stained and rusting metallic doors. The few unbroken windows were too yellowed to make out anything within, and the rest were boarded with a patchwork of materials.

  Jordo reached for one of the doors and opened it. Its metal hinges made surprisingly little sound as he stepped into the reception area. He took a few more steps and stopped, waiting for something to happen.

  As time stretched on, the rest of the group made their way inside, and they continued past the remnant of the front desk, toward what had been a waiting area. Old chairs and a few tables lined the walls, and another set of doors, these ones more imposing and in far better shape, sat at the far end of the room.

  Jordo stopped them as they reached the middle of the room. Their silent question was answered when the doors ahead began receding into the walls, opening up on a trio of golems, made of the same metals as Jordo, but of a different shape.

  These were slimmer, with longer limbs, and had two eyes, stacked one over the other, set on rotating disks.

  Both groups stared at each other for a few seconds, with the middle golem eventually taking a few steps forward and speaking in the broken, angry-sounding Luminan tongue.

  Jordo replied to the golem, and they exchanged a few words before he walked up to the archive's golem leader. Both golems held up a hand, palm out, and pressed them together. Their eyes displayed vertical scrolling bars for a second before their hands separated.

  The centre golem turned back toward its companions and repeated the hand contact with them before returning next to Jordo.

  The majordomo golem stepped to the side and looked at his group. “Sir, Madam, friends, these are the last remaining Archival golems of the Radiant Archive, Scrinarius models. This is unit #3.”

  The golem leader bowed and spoke in Amberfallian, his voice slightly nasal. “Greetings. As unit designation Jordo said, I am unit #3. To my right is unit #21, and to my left is unit #67. In the interest of privacy, the data exchange between this unit and unit Jordo was limited to knowledge of your language and names only.”

  #3 straightened, his eyes flashing in tandem. “Unfortunately, due to the state of emergency, the Radiant Archive was declared closed until further notice to the general public. We are afraid that, without proper authorization, we cannot allow you to proceed further. You are, however, welcome to remain in the lobby for as long as you want.”

  His eye discs twitched and re-aligned. “I will also attempt to answer your questions, should you have any.”

  The group looked at each other, with David taking a step forward. “What sort of authorization would you need to let us in?”

  #3 aligned his eyes toward him. “Anyone with a rank 4 or higher clerical designation, or any individual with a security grade D or above.”

  David frowned. “That... how about a scion?”

  The slim golem managed to look surprised. “A scion? Yes, that would be sufficient. Scions are automatically afforded a security grade of D.” Its eyes flashed. “But, good sir, if you manage to find a scion within the Luminous Reign's territory, please bring them to any designated shelter area immediately.”

  It leaned forward. “The Radiant Archive, while well-defended, is not a shelter area.”

  David looked at Jordo, who dimmed its eye once and turned his head toward the slim golem. “Unit #3, I, unit designation Jordo, as befit my duty as a curator unit, have identified Sir David here as a scion.”

  #3's eye rings swivelled, pointing one eye at Jordo and David both, before switching target, and finally focusing on Jordo. “Truly? Was your finding confirmed by a person of proper authority?”

  The majordomo shook his head. “Unfortunately, I believe that the Luminous Reign as a whole has ceased to exist, for many thousands of years. A living individual able to approve the Scion designation form would be arduous to find.”

  #3 stared at Jordo for a second, before its eye rings spun a few times, realigning with a click and spinning toward the golem to his right. “#21, I believe the present case fulfills the magister's requirements?”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The thus-far silent golem's eyes flashed. Its voice had the same nasal lilt, though higher-pitched. “I concur, #3. We should wake the Magister up.”

  The lead golem returned his attention to David's group. “Please wait here.”

  Without waiting for a reply, it turned on the spot and marched out of the room, followed by #21 and, a few seconds later, #67, whose eyes had been slowly drifting apart while it had stood motionless.

  The heavy doors came out of the walls and closed with a bit of a crunch, leaving the group alone in the waiting room with more questions than answers.

  The first thought that crossed Rinka's brain as consciousness returned to her was that they hadn't mentioned the headache. Or, if they had, it had been severely underplayed.

  Some noise that vaguely resembled words assaulted her ears, travelling into her brain like burrowing rockmice, threatening to make her black out from the pain.

  Heh. Blacking out right after being woken up from stillness would be funny. Here comes Rinka, returning to life after gods know how many years, only to pass out on the floor on her first step. She snorted at the image, which turned out to be a really bad idea, tendrils of pain flashing across her brain.

  A cold, solid hand reached out to her, gently but firmly grabbing her from the armpit and depositing her on a chair. Something cylindrical appeared in one of her hands.

  She brought it up in front of her swimming vision, attempting to figure out what it was and how it had gotten there. It looked like a cup. Maybe it was a cup.

  The concept of a cup brought out the concept of water, which made her realize she was thirsty. She eyed the cup unsteadily and shrugged, tipping it back and draining it in one, long gulp.

  There had definitely been something drinkable in the cup, and it had felt good going down her throat. She tried drinking again, but the cup was empty, and that made her sad. She let the cup fall and slumped into her chair.

  Magically, the cup reappeared in her hand, and she drained it again, the process repeating a few times. Eventually, her thirst had gone from crippling to annoying, and she was able to make sense of what was around her.

  Three Scrinarius golems. One of which looked a bit loopy. The soft blue glow of the mana lamps within the stillness room drew long shadows, but even in the dimness, everything looked a bit... scuffed and blurry.

  Oh. Wait.

  She slowly turned her head toward one of the constructs. “Golem, what is your designation?”

  “I am unit #3, Magister Alwardn.”

  “#3, where are my lenses?”

  The golem held out his hand, a thin metal object upon it. Rinka retrieved her lenses and clipped them over the bridge of her nose, the apparatus's half-circles resting just below her eyes.

  She put a finger to them and pulsed a tiny bit of mana, grunting when nothing happened. Discharged...

  She closed her eyes and concentrated, refining her mana into something passable for magitech tools. While she was far from being a master at the process, she could still attain a respectable sixty percent refinement. More than good enough for the vast majority of tools.

  About a minute later, her lenses turned on, blue mana fields flashing in front of her eyes before going transparent. The air in front of her eyes was compressed, curving the light passing through to give her perfect vision.

  There, now she could see. Everything still looked scuffed, but at least it was clearly scuffed.

  She snorted at her own joke, and, with her headache slowly receding into something bearable, she turned her head toward the closest golem. “So, #3, why did you quicken me?”

  David looked at his pocketwatch, hummed and put it away. It had been close to a full bell now, and he was starting to wonder if the golems had lied.

  He was about to ask Jordo when the sound of groaning metal caught everyone's attention, their heads turning toward the double doors at the end of the room. They once more receded into the walls, this time revealing four individuals: the three golems and, behind them, a woman. She had long, unruly black hair and a smattering of freckles, and wore a light grey scholar's robe with a small message bag attached to her belt.

  The golems escorted the woman into the room, stopping a few paces in and remaining silent as she walked past them. She observed each member of the group before turning her sight to David.

  She cleared her throat and spoke in accented Amberfallian, poking her K's and tutting her T's. “Greetings. I am Magister Rinka Alwardn. The archive golems told me there was a scion among your group. Is this true?”

  David looked at the woman with a mix of surprise and suspicion. “Where did you come from? Are there people living here?”

  The magister tilted her head. “Living? Oh, not at all. Well, apart from me, but until very recently, I wasn't living. More like, solid.” She said, a tiny smile on her lips accompanying a snort.

  She looked at the group before her, sighing after catching their stares. “I can see you're confused. I guess I should explain. Let's see...” She pursed her lips to the side for a second. “This is the Radiant Archive, the greatest repository of knowledge in the whole of the Luminous Reign. Or, what used to be the reign. I guess these lands are only luminous now, not much reigning going around.” She strangled another snort.

  She shook her head. “Anyway, when the mana eaters came from behind the humming barrier and started destroying everything, I was, uh, volunteered to stay behind. They stuck me in a stillchamber, activated the Archive's defensive arrays, and left the golem in charge. They were instructed to quicken me once a citizen of sufficient grade or rank showed up.”

  She let her gaze flit around the group, landing on David. “Just to be clear, a Scion is a citizen of sufficient grade or rank, even if they're unregistered.” She explained.

  David blinked. “That's... a lot of questions that you just gave me.”

  Next to him, Niala vigorously nodded, her ears and tail twitching.

  After a moment, a smirk drew over Rinka's mouth. “Well, this is an archive. If there's a place to be asking questions, it has to be an archive. So, Mr. Scion, why don't you ask me those questions?”

  David narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I'm the Scion?”

  Rinka tapped the frame of her lenses. “Mana scanning feature. You look like a mana lighthouse, so I knew you were one the instant the doors opened. I just wanted to be polite about it.”

  He slowly nodded. “Right.” He looked around the room. “Got anywhere more pleasant to sit down and have a talk?”

  The magister smiled. “Sure! But first, we have to officially register you as a Scion of the Luminous Reign.”

  “But, why? You said yourself the reign didn't exist anymore.”

  She blinked. “Do you really think the disappearance of all forms of organized governance would erase the need for bureaucracy?”

  “...Yes?”

  She grinned and snorted. “You clearly know nothing about the Luminous Reign.”