This happens right before returning to the lower levels.

  The upper level archives were housed in a structure of delicate cloudwood and crystal, situated on one of the highest pteaus Azaril had yet visited. After his success in the Ascension Trials, he had been granted limited access to certain areas normally reserved for high-altitude residents. It had taken weeks of careful negotiation, building on his newfound status to secure even this restricted entry.

  "You understand, of course, that your time is limited," said Archivist Recordkeeper, a stern-faced isnder with wings the pale blue of high-altitude skies. Her tone remained formal, barely masking her disapproval of his presence. "Some sections remain off-limits to visitors, regardless of their... accomplishments."

  Azaril nodded respectfully. "I appreciate any opportunity to learn more about the rich history of the Floating Isles."

  The archivist's expression remained unchanged as she gestured to an assistant hovering nearby. "Scrollfetch will provide whatever approved materials you request. Documentwatch will ensure protocols are followed."

  Documentwatch, a broad-shouldered guardian with military bearing, took up position near the entrance. His wings were held in the alert position—not fully extended, but ready for immediate action if needed.

  "I'll return at the designated closing time," Recordkeeper said, her wings creating a small current as she turned away.

  When she had departed, Azaril exchanged a look with Silvius. They both understood the unspoken message: he was tolerated, not welcomed.

  "Where would you suggest we begin?" Azaril asked Scrollfetch, a younger isnder whose eager expression suggested more curiosity than suspicion.

  "It depends on what interests you most," Scrollfetch replied, wings fluttering slightly in excitement despite the formal setting. "There are historical accounts of early settlements, weather pattern records, architectural designs..."

  "I'm particurly interested in the mechanisms that keep the isnds floating," Azaril said carefully, watching for reactions. "The physical principles must be fascinating."

  Documentwatch shifted slightly at his post, wings tensing.

  Scrollfetch's enthusiasm dimmed visibly. "Those records are... specialized. Perhaps the cultural histories would be more appropriate for visitors."

  "Of course," Azaril said smoothly. "Whatever you recommend."

  They spent the morning reviewing permitted documents—rgely ceremonial histories and sanitized accounts of altitude governance that revealed little of substance. Azaril maintained his appearance of schorly interest while noting which topics caused Scrollfetch to become evasive.

  By midday, Documentwatch was called away briefly to address some commotion elsewhere in the building. The moment the guard stepped out, Silvius casually moved to block the view from the doorway.

  "The meteorological records," Azaril whispered to Scrollfetch, "would those include data on the air currents maintaining elevation?"

  Scrollfetch hesitated, gncing toward the door. "Those are typically reserved for Current Guild members."

  "I understand completely," Azaril said, letting genuine interest show in his eyes. "It's just that my mechanical wing designs could be improved with better understanding of fundamental principles."

  The young assistant seemed torn between duty and intellectual curiosity. "There is a history schor here today—Pastflow. He sometimes lectures on early settlement patterns. He might be able to answer general questions."

  Scrollfetch led them to a secluded corner where an elderly isnder with faded golden wings sat surrounded by ancient scrolls. His translucent skin spoke of decades spent at the highest altitudes, where sunlight was most intense.

  "Visitors from below?" Pastflow's voice was surprisingly strong despite his fragile appearance. "How unexpected. And what brings you to disturb an old schor's research?"

  "Curiosity about the fundamental nature of your remarkable realm," Azaril replied honestly.

  The old schor studied him for a long moment. "Curiosity is either the highest virtue or the greatest folly, depending on where it leads." He gestured to seats across from him. "Ask your questions, but understand I may not answer all of them."

  Azaril chose his words carefully. "The prevailing belief is that social stratification by altitude reflects natural flying ability, but my observations suggest something more systematic at work."

  Pastflow's eyes flicked toward the doorway. "An interesting theory."

  "The currents seem too consistent," Azaril continued softly. "Too perfectly arranged to be entirely natural."

  The old schor's expression remained neutral, but he pulled a particur scroll closer. "This account of early meteorological observations might interest you. Purely historical, of course."

  The document appeared innocuous—weather records from centuries past—but between routine observations were subtle references to "harmony adjustments" and "current architecture."

  As Azaril studied the text, Pastflow spoke in conversational tones about weather history, but his eyes conveyed additional meaning. "Before the Altitude Accord formally established our current social structure, there was considerable... experimentation with air pattern manipution."

  Silvius, who had remained silent until now, asked, "And when exactly was the Accord established? The exact dating seems to vary in different accounts."

  Pastflow raised an eyebrow at Silvius. "You ask as though you should know already. The conventional date is 800 years past, though some schors argue it merely formalized systems that were already well-established."

  "Around the time of Wind Sovereign Empyrea," Silvius remarked casually.

  Something flickered in Pastflow's eyes—recognition, perhaps surprise. "You're familiar with our deeper histories."

  "I've traveled widely," Silvius said simply.

  Their careful conversation was interrupted as Documentwatch returned, wings creating a sharp current that ruffled the scrolls. "Research progressing well?" he asked, his tone making it clear it wasn't really a question.

  "Merely reviewing ancient weather patterns," Pastflow said, smoothly rolling up the most revealing scroll. "Fascinating how consistent they've remained over centuries, isn't it?"

  After another hour of carefully monitored research, they thanked Pastflow and prepared to leave. As they gathered their notes, the old schor pressed something into Azaril's hand—a small crystal that appeared unremarkable.

  "A token of academic exchange," he said formally. "Hold it to the light when you wish to contempte our history more deeply."

  That evening, in their private quarters, Azaril examined the crystal. When held at a specific angle to mplight, it projected faint images onto the wall—schematics of an eborate network of current control points situated throughout the floating isles, with the highest concentration at the uppermost levels.

  "This confirms what I've suspected," Azaril said quietly. "The entire altitude-based society is maintained by controlled air currents—a system monopolized by the highest families."

  Silvius nodded, studying the projected images with unusual intensity. "The natural air patterns provide the foundation, but they've been carefully augmented and directed for centuries."

  "You don't seem surprised," Azaril observed.

  "I witnessed simir systems in the past," Silvius admitted. "Though the technology has been refined considerably."

  "In your travels?" Azaril asked pointedly.

  Silvius's silver eyes reflected the crystal's light. "Long before the Altitude Accord was formalized, there were experiments with current manipution. Wind Sovereign Empyrea didn't create the system—she perfected it."

  "You speak as though you were there," Azaril said, voicing the thought that had been growing in his mind.

  Silvius met his gaze steadily. "There are some histories I know better than others."

  Azaril decided not to press further, returning his attention to the projected schematics. "This expins so much—why certain families maintain their position regardless of individual flying ability, why the social structures have remained so rigid despite centuries of development."

  "It's the same pattern we've seen before," Silvius said. "Different realms, different methods, but always the same fundamental structure—those with power create systems to maintain it, then develop mythologies to justify those systems as natural."

  "And if the currents are controlled rather than natural..." Azaril began.

  "Then mechanical flight isn't challenging natural order," Silvius completed. "It's simply providing alternative access to a deliberately controlled resource."

  Azaril carefully stored the crystal. Tomorrow they would return to the lower levels with knowledge that could fundamentally change the floating isles society—the truth that their rigid hierarchy was maintained not by natural flying ability but by an ancient technological system controlled exclusively by those who already held power.

  "Different kinds of power," Azaril mused, "hidden behind different kinds of myths."