A Name in the Dust

The Dominion archives were not a single room.They were a maze.

Beneath the Citadel, far below the council halls and war chambers, a network of narrow vaults stretched like buried roots. Most were forgotten. Dust claimed the shelves. Wax seals cracked from age. Candles had long melted in their holders.

But Ryuji moved with purpose.

A quiet flame lantern in one hand, a thin leather journal in the other, the same journal Mirael had given him, wrapped in cloth and tied with simple string. She had marked a page. A phrase in the old tongue: Venterium's Crossroads - Seal Date: 46 YD.

The page was worn, the ink faded. But one word had been circled.

Liraen.

The missing name.The ghost in the Pact.

The deeper he went, the more silence pressed in. No footsteps echoed here. Only his breathing, slow and even, and the soft rustle of cloth as he turned corners.

He passed through vaults marked for agricultural records, trade routes, and supply dispatches. Nothing useful. Not for what he sought.

Eventually, he found a narrow door with no label. Just a small Dominion crest etched into the wood, half-faded.

He pressed his palm to it.

It didn't open.

For a moment, he stared at it, uncertain. Then reached into his pocket and pulled out the flame crystal Velen had given him. It still held a faint glow. He pressed it to the crest.

The door clicked.

Inside, cold air rushed out.

The room was small. Round. The walls were lined with scrolls and ledgers, sealed in iron tubes. Ryuji stepped inside and lit a corner sconce with the flame crystal. A dim orange glow spread across the shelves.

Most of the labels were scratched out.

He stepped to the center and knelt beside an old ledger stand.

There were four volumes, each bound in cracked leather. Each marked with years too far past for public records.

He opened the third one.

The pages inside were numbered and dated. Some had writing in a tight, careful script. Others were blank, torn out, or blacked with ink. But he kept searching.

And then, on page 139, he found it.

Name: Liraen Solma.

Title: First Speaker, Ninth Oath.

Last Location: Venterium's Crossroads - Winter Encampment, 46 YD.

Status: Unknown.

Notes: Access Restricted. Order #76-B. Imperial Eyes Only.

Ryuji stared at it.

The ink was faded, but not erased. Someone had tried to hide her, yet this line had survived. Missed by carelessness or perhaps spared by someone unwilling to fully forget.

Venterium's Crossroads.

He had heard the name once, long ago. An old fortress town in the east, ruined in the early days of the Dominion's expansion. No one spoke of it now. It wasn't on any current maps.

Which made it exactly the kind of place someone would go to disappear, or be sent to vanish.

He gently closed the ledger, then looked over his shoulder.

Still alone.

He took the page number and returned the book to its place.

Back in his quarters, Ryuji lit a single candle and placed the marked journal beside the flame. He copied the notes from memory, writing slowly and carefully.

As he finished, he looked down at the name once more.

Liraen Solma.

He whispered it aloud.

A name no longer meant to exist.

And yet… it did.

The next morning, he met Velen in the quiet courtyard behind the Citadel armory.

"You're not going to like this", Ryuji said, handing him the copied page.

Velen read it in silence. His eyes narrowed.

"I thought they burned this."

"They missed it", Ryuji replied. "Or someone made sure they did."

"Venterium's Crossroads…" Velen said softly, then looked up. "That place was sealed off. Disease, they claimed. But that never made sense."

"Because it wasn't disease", Ryuji said. "It was silence. Forced silence. That's where she vanished. Maybe where she died. Or maybe not."

Velen looked troubled. "If you go there, you'll be alone. That town's buried in ash and ice. No patrols. No allies. If there's anything left, it won't be friendly."

"I need to go", Ryuji said, steady. "I need to know what she was doing there. What she left behind."

Velen studied him for a moment. Then nodded.

"Wait till the next dusk. I'll get you supplies."

That night, as the city lights flickered below and the first stars broke through cloud, Ryuji packed for the journey.

The wind whispered at his window.

In the dark, he opened Mirael's journal once more.

At the bottom of the marked page, a second line had been written in small, almost invisible ink.

"She buried more than truth."

He closed the journal.

Outside, a raven landed on the stone ledge, watching him.

He met its gaze.

And then turned away, eyes set east, toward the ruins.