**CHAPTER 9: "THREADS OF TRUTH"**
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Liora walked alone through the morning streets of Lumeria, and no one noticed her.
Perfect.
The Scholar's Quarter rose ahead of her—a cluster of tall buildings with golden domes and carved columns. Libraries, academies, research halls. The heart of Lumeria's supposed enlightenment.
She observed as she walked.
Guards on every corner, but relaxed here. These streets held no criminals, no threats. Just scholars moving between buildings with books under arms, students hurrying to lectures, scribes carrying sealed documents.
Peaceful. Ordered. Controlled.
*Just like they want it*, she thought.
A group of young scholars passed, debating something about metaphysical philosophy. Their voices were passionate but measured—never too loud, never disrespectful. Even their arguments followed rules.
Further on, she saw an older professor lecturing to students on a plaza bench. Teaching in public, freely sharing knowledge. But Liora noticed how the professor's eyes occasionally flicked toward a nearby guard. Checking. Making sure nothing said crossed invisible lines.
Fear disguised as education.
She'd seen it before. In other cities. Other nations. The careful dance of appearing free while remaining controlled.
But Lumeria was better at it than most. The chains here were golden and beautiful, and most people never noticed they wore them.
The Great Library rose before her—five stories of white marble and golden trim, with columns that seemed to hold up the sky itself. Steps led to massive bronze doors, already open, citizens flowing in and out.
*Knowledge is the light that banishes shadow*, read the inscription above.
*Unless that knowledge is inconvenient*, Liora thought, and climbed the steps.
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Inside, the library was breathtaking.
Not in scale—though it was large—but in atmosphere. The main hall stretched upward through all five stories, ringed by balconies lined with books. Sunlight poured through crystal windows, creating patterns on the polished floor. The air smelled like old paper, leather bindings, and something Liora couldn't quite name. History, maybe. Or secrets pretending to be wisdom.
Scholars moved quietly between shelves. Librarians at tall desks helped visitors find materials. Everything whisper-soft, everything reverent.
Liora approached one of the desks.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for historical records. Village registries from the past year."
The librarian—an older woman with kind eyes and steel-grey hair—smiled warmly. "Of course. Third floor, eastern section. Follow the markers for 'Regional Documentation.' Do you need assistance navigating?"
"I'll manage. Thank you."
Liora climbed the spiral staircase to the third floor. More books. More shelves. More carefully organized knowledge.
She found the section marked Regional Documentation and began searching.
Village registries. Tax records. Population censuses. Trade manifests. All meticulously maintained, all perfectly legible, all completely useless.
The villages she was looking for—the ones that had burned—were listed. But their final entries were always the same:
*Matter resolved. File closed. No further updates required.*
No details. No explanations. Just... closed.
She pulled another volume. Another region. Same pattern.
Villages that had filed complaints: closed.
Villages mentioned in trade disputes with crown authorities: closed.
Villages that had requested investigations into soldier misconduct: closed.
All within weeks of their final entry.
All marked the same way.
Liora's hands tightened on the book. This wasn't just censorship. This was systematic elimination disguised as bureaucratic efficiency.
Someone was using the records themselves as a cover-up tool. Making murders look like paperwork.
She was about to pull another volume when a voice shattered the library's peace.
"AND THEN—GET THIS—THE PROTAGONIST TURNS AROUND AND SAYS 'I'M GOING TO BE THE GREATEST SWORDSMAN IN THE WORLD!' "
Liora's eye twitched.
"I MEAN, THE AUDACITY! THE SHEER AMBITION! HE JUST LOST HIS ENTIRE CREW AND HE'S STILL—"
She turned to see the source.
Leon. The same chaotic scholar from yesterday's market square who'd been running with too many scrolls. He sat at a reading table, surrounded by books, gesturing wildly to himself as he read aloud from what looked like a bound manuscript.
"—AND THE CAPTAIN, RIGHT? THE CAPTAIN JUST LAUGHS! LAUGHS! EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE SURROUNDED BY ENEMY SHIPS! HE SAYS—"
"Could you possibly," Liora said quietly, walking over, "read silently?"
Leon looked up, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "What? Oh! Sorry, I get excited about adventure novels. This one's incredible though—it's about these pirates searching for ultimate treasure, and the main character ate this magical fruit that made his body like rubber, which is such a creative power system, and—"
"I don't care."
"—there's this swordsman who fights with THREE swords, one in his mouth, which seems impractical but somehow works, and—"
"Please. Stop. Talking."
"—the world-building is AMAZING, there are these giant sea creatures, and different islands with unique cultures, and a corrupt world government that—"
Liora's patience snapped. "If you do not close that book and read silently, I will ask a librarian to have you removed."
Leon blinked. "That's... harsh."
"This is a library. Not a theater."
"But sharing knowledge is the whole point of—"
"Then share it quietly."
They stared at each other. Leon held his book protectively. Liora's expression was carved from ice.
Finally, leon deflated. "Fine. But you're missing out. This part where they infiltrate the enemy fortress using a giant octopus? *Chef's kiss*."
"I'm sure it's riveting."
"It IS—"
Liora turned and walked away before he could continue.
Behind her, she heard leon mutter: "No appreciation for narrative excellence. Probably reads philosophical treatises for fun. Boring."
She ignored him and returned to her research.
But the damage was done. Her concentration was broken. The absurdity of the interruption—someone reading what sounded like adventure nonsense while she was trying to find evidence of systematic murder—made her want to scream.
Or laugh.
She wasn't sure which.
*Focus*, she told herself. *You're running out of time. Your vision is failing. You need answers.*
She pulled more records. Scanned more entries. Found more nothing.
Every trail carefully erased. Every question deliberately unanswered. Every loose end tied off with bureaucratic efficiency.
Whoever was covering this up had access to official records. Had authority to edit them. Had been doing this for months, maybe years.
And Lumeria—city of knowledge, beacon of enlightenment—was complicit in burying truth beneath paperwork.
She was about to give up when she noticed something.
A gap.
Three volumes in the Regional Documentation section were supposed to be sequential—Volume 47, Volume 48, Volume 49. But when she pulled them, 48 was thicker than the others. Not by much. Just a few pages.
She opened it carefully.
Someone had added pages. Loose sheets tucked between the bound entries. Not official additions—these were handwritten, different paper, clearly inserted after publication.
Liora's heart quickened.
She scanned the added notes:
*Query: Village of Thornhill submitted complaint re: unauthorized soldier searches. Response pending.*
*Follow-up: Thornhill declared hostile entity. Enforcement recommended.*
*Resolution: Matter handled. Village no longer operational. Records updated accordingly.*
Dates, locations, official stamps. All written in the same hand. Someone had been tracking the actual process behind the cleaned-up final records.
Someone with access. Someone who knew.
Someone who'd left evidence.
Liora carefully removed the loose pages, folded them, and tucked them inside her jacket. If she got caught with these—
*Don't think about that. Just move.*
She returned the volume to its shelf, making sure everything looked undisturbed. Glanced around—no one watching. Guards on this floor were near the staircases, not between the stacks.
She descended carefully, casually, just another scholar finishing her research.
At the main desk, the kind librarian smiled. "Find what you needed?"
"Some of it. Thank you."
"Come back anytime. Knowledge is—"
"—the light that banishes shadow. Yes." Liora managed a polite smile. "I appreciate your help."
She walked toward the exit, fighting the urge to run.
The papers inside her jacket felt like they were burning. Evidence. Real, tangible proof of corruption. Not enough to bring down the system—not yet—but enough to know she was on the right track.
*Kael needs to see these*, she thought. *Rynn too. We need to—*
She pushed through the bronze doors and stepped into afternoon sunlight.
And stopped.
Rynn was leaning against a column at the bottom of the library steps, arms crossed, looking bored.
Their eyes met.
Rynn straightened. "Took you long enough."
Liora descended the steps. "I could say the same. How long have you been waiting?"
"Twenty minutes. Maybe more. Started to think you'd gotten lost in there." Rynn's sharp eyes scanned her. "You look tense."
"I found something."
"Good something or bad something?"
"Both." Liora glanced around—too many people nearby. "Not here. Let's walk."
They moved away from the library, following a side street that led toward the market districts. Quieter. Fewer guards.
"So?" Rynn prompted. "What did you find?"
Liora pulled the folded papers from her jacket, keeping them low, showing just enough for Rynn to see.
"Records. Real ones. Someone's been tracking the village destructions. The actual process behind the official cover-up." She tucked them away again. "Proof that it's systematic. Proof that complaints lead to elimination."
Rynn whistled softly. "That's not just corruption. That's policy."
"Exactly."
"Whose policy?"
"That's what we need to figure out." Liora's mind was already working through possibilities. "Someone with authority to order military action. Someone with access to edit official records. Someone powerful enough that no one questions their decisions."
"So... the Empress?"
"Possibly. Or someone close to her. Maybe both." Liora stopped walking, turned to face Rynn. "What did you find?"
Rynn leaned against a building wall, expression thoughtful. "Talked to dock workers. Merchants. People who move between cities. They're scared. Traders who used to go to western villages aren't anymore. Routes are changing. People are avoiding entire regions."
"Because villages keep disappearing."
"Yeah. And the official explanation is always the same—'hostile activity,' 'forbidden practices,' 'matter resolved.' Nobody questions it publicly. But privately?" Rynn's eyes were hard. "People know something's wrong. They just don't know what. Or they're too scared to say."
"Fear keeps systems stable."
"Until it doesn't."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching citizens move past. Normal life. Normal day. Everyone pretending not to notice the darkness beneath the white marble.
"We need to go deeper," Liora said finally. "These papers are evidence, but they don't tell us who's giving the orders. Or why. We need access to restricted records. Palace archives. Places normal citizens can't reach."
"So we break in."
"Eventually. But we need more information first. Layout. Guard patterns. Access points." Liora started walking again. "Tonight, we scout the palace district. See what security looks like. Tomorrow—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Rynn noticed immediately. "What?"
"Where is Kael.."
They'd been so focused on their own investigations that the absence had almost slipped past notice. But now, saying it aloud, the worry crystallized.
"He's probably fine," Rynn said, though her tone had shifted. "Got distracted. Lost track of time."
"Kael doesn't get lost. And he doesn't miss meetings." Liora's hands clenched. "Something happened."
"You think he's in trouble?"
"I think he's Kael. Of course he's in trouble." Liora's voice was tight. "We need to find him. The docks—we said if anything goes wrong, meet at the docks."
"Then let's check there first."
They changed direction, heading toward the harbor. Moving faster now. Not quite running—that would draw attention—but not leisurely either.
*Please let him be fine*, Liora thought. *Please let him have just gotten distracted. Please don't let this city have hurt him.*
What is going to happen now.
Will they find him or….
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END CHAPTER 9