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Finally, I reached the section on arcanite:

Arcanite serves as a conductor for essence. Once found in abundance within the Northeastern mountain range of Freyheim, it was primarily used in weapon-making before being rapidly mined and distributed throughout the realm. The mineral possesses a unique quality unknown to any other substance in Umbrathia—the ability to both store and disperse essence. When enchanting weapons with arcanite, some wielders successfully transferred their tether into the stone, enhancing its capabilities.

I read the passage twice, then again. Something wasn't right. I scrunched my nose, flipping through the next few pages, searching for more information.

"This text is wrong," I said finally. "It says nothing about arcanite creating essence."

"Because that would be inaccurate," Aether said without looking up from his book.

"In the Guard, we learned that arcanite is where essence is made. That the realm would die without it." The words felt hollow even as I said them.

"And I'm telling you, that's incorrect." My eyes fell onto his lips as he brought his hand up, wetting his finger before flipping a page. "Umbrathia hasn't had arcanite deposits in over a century. Sometimes you might find an old family heirloom, a sword or weapon encrusted with the stone. But that's all that remains."

I sat with that for a moment, my fingers tracing the words on the page before me. The implications twisted in my gut.

"It can store essence," he added, his voice softer now, "but it's not the creator. That comes from the realm itself."

The realization settled over me slowly, then all at once. The Guard had lied—just as they had about everything else. A fear tactic, exactly what Ma had always accused them of. We'd been taught the Wraiths were after the arcanite, that losing it would plunge the realm into darkness. It had kept us from asking questions they didn't want to answer.

How far up did these lies go? I thought of Laryk, but quickly pushed the thought away. These deceptions had probably started with the military leaders who first destroyed Riftdremar. They'd rewritten history, buried the truth beneath layers of carefully constructed lies.

I needed air. Standing abruptly, I wandered into the maze of shelves, letting my fingers trail along the spines of books. At the end of one aisle, I noticed a blocked-off section in the back. A sign marked it as restricted, but the rope that usually barred entry had been moved aside. Curiosity pulled me forward.

As I rounded the corner, someone jerked upright, dropping their book with a dull thud. Raven stood there, dark hair falling into his eyes as he glanced around like a startled animal. Books lay scattered around the plush chair he'd clearly been lounging in.

"Erm—I was just—" He gestured vaguely at the mess.

I bit back a smile. "Hiding from Talon?"

His shoulders relaxed slightly, a sheepish grin replacing his panic. "You caught me."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." I bent to pick up the fallen book, noting its worn leather binding and gold-leaf edges. "Your tether demonstration in the trials was impressive, by the way."

"That's kind," Raven said, accepting the book from my hands. "Though what I showed wasn't even the beginning of what I can really do. I couldn't exactly demonstrate their full potential easily in such a setting."

"Is that so?" I settled against one of the shelves, grateful for the distraction from my earlier discoveries.

"Well," he shrugged, absently straightening the books around his chair, "I suppose enchanting mirrors isn't exactly combat efficient. Not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"What exactly do you mean?"

His eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "The mirrors—I can form bonds with them, leave them places. Use them to communicate across distances, or..." he hesitated, glancing around before continuing in a lower voice. "Or observe what happens around them. Like looking through a window."

Something clicked in my mind. A tether like that would be invaluable to a military operation. No wonder the Umbra had placed him in the archives instead of dismissing him outright—his abilities weren't about combat, they were about intelligence.

"At least, I used to," he added, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. "Before everything started failing. Now it takes so much more essence just to maintain a single connection."

"That must be difficult," I said, thinking of how my own abilities had never weakened, even here. The guilt of that privilege sat heavy in my stomach.

He shrugged, clearly trying to shake off the moment of vulnerability. "So what's the realm's new Duskbound looking for in the archives? Besides catching Archivists breaking protocol, of course."

"Information about arcanite."

"Sounds thrilling," he said, lips quirking into a smile. "Though I suppose that's more useful than my current reading material."

I glanced at the book he still held. "And what exactly are you reading?"

"Well, I only just opened it, but—" he smiled sheepishly, holding it out to me, "my taste is less academic."