Deirdre moved silently through the shadowed corridors of the Guild archive, her footsteps barely disturbing the dust that had settled over centuries. A glance behind confirmed she remained unobserved—Lugh's Noctari friends had maintained their vigilant watch over the entrance, intercepting any curious Guild members who ventured too close. The ancient doorway loomed before her, its surface no less imposing for its familiarity.

  Her hand went to the key around her neck, its weight a constant reminder of her new responsibility. The twisted black-and-silver metal was warm against her palm, resonating with the power that flowed through the very stones around her. For a moment, she hesitated. Each journey through this doorway pushed her further from the life she had known, from the simple identity of Collector that had defined her for so long.

  Orsafi chirped softly from her shoulder, the carbuncle's gem pulsing with eager anticipation. Unlike Deirdre, her small companion showed no reluctance about returning to the Source—if anything, she seemed more alive, more vibrant when they ventured beyond the ancient threshold.

  "I know," Deirdre murmured, stroking Orsafi's soft fur. "We can't delay."

  With practiced movements, she inserted the key into the door's intricate lock, feeling the now-familiar surge of power as ancient mechanisms recognized its presence. The door swung open smoothly, revealing the swirling energy beyond—no longer alien and terrifying, but somehow welcoming, like returning to a place half-remembered from a dream.

  She stepped forward, Orsafi leaping ahead eagerly, and felt the familiar disorientation of transition. The solid stone of the archive floor gave way to emptiness for a heartbeat, then solidified into something else entirely. The air changed, becoming richer, charged with energy that tingled against her skin and filled her lungs with vitality. Light enveloped her—not the soft glow of archive lamps but the brilliant, impossible radiance of the Source itself.

  When her vision cleared, the Source world spread before her in all its terrible majesty.

  The landscape took her breath away, as it did the first time. Towering crystalline spires reached toward the darkened sky, their translucent surfaces catching and refracting light in ways that defied natural law. Some rose straight and proud, while others twisted into shapes that seemed almost organic in their complexity. The tallest disappeared into low-hanging clouds, their peaks lost to sight.

  At her feet, the ground was carpeted with luminous moss in a thousand shades of green—emerald, jade, viridian, colors for which she had no name. Between patches of moss grew twisted vegetation unlike anything found in separated Domains: flowers with petals of living flame, vines that shifted position when not directly observed, fungi that emitted melodies instead of spores.

  Above it all hung the Source's eternal storm—a dark, churning sky webbed with constant arcs of violet lightning that cast the landscape in brief, brilliant illumination. Unlike natural storms, this one produced no rain, no thunder—only the silent, magnificent display of raw power flowing through the fabric of reality itself.

  But for all its beauty, the Source remained deeply wounded. Beyond the stable regions where Deirdre stood, great sections of the landscape had shattered completely, exposing chasms of empty void. These fractures—remnants of the great Fracturing that had birthed the Domains—gaped like wounds in reality itself. Nothing existed within them—not darkness, not light, simply absence so complete it hurt the eyes to look directly at it.

  Yet this time, Deirdre saw the Source differently. Where once she had perceived only alien wonder and danger, she now felt connection. The energy flowing through the crystalline spires, the moss beneath her feet, even the lightning above—all resonated with the same power that now hummed within her own chest. This was the wellspring from which all Domains had sprung, the origin point whose essence flowed through every separated reality.

  Including herself.

  "We have work to do," she said, more to center herself than to inform Orsafi.

  The carbuncle had already bounded ahead, her gem glowing in perfect harmony with the pulsing light of the moss beneath her paws. She paused on a rocky outcropping, looking back as if to ask why Deirdre wasn't moving faster.

  Deirdre smiled despite herself. This new existence might be complicated, filled with responsibilities she was still coming to understand, but Orsafi's simple joy in the Source's wonders was a welcome reminder that beauty persisted even in the midst of decay.

  She closed her eyes, reaching out with her developing senses. The Guardian's knowledge, imperfectly transferred but growing clearer with each visit, guided her awareness through the currents of energy flowing around her. There—a concentration of pure crystalline formations, untouched by the Fracturing. And there—a grove of specimens whose properties would astound even the most experienced Collectors.

  Resources. Power. Currency for the mission ahead.

  With newfound purpose, Deirdre moved deeper into the Source, Orsafi racing ahead to guide the way.

  Deirdre worked methodically, her years of collection experience enhanced by her new awareness of the Source's essence. Each specimen she gathered represented a power and purity no longer found in the separated Domains, where centuries of isolation had diluted their original properties.

  She knelt beside a cluster of crystals that grew like frozen flames from the luminous moss. Unlike their counterparts in the Domains, these formations pulsed with inner light that responded to her touch, brightening as her fingers brushed their faceted surfaces. With practiced precision, she extracted several perfect specimens, carefully wrapping each in preservation cloth before placing them in her collection case.

  "These will fetch enough to fund our operation for months," she murmured to Orsafi, who watched with bright, attentive eyes. "The crystalline resonance is perfect—ten times the potency of anything found in the Shimmerdeep."

  Moving on, she discovered a vein of metal unlike any she had cataloged before—a substance that shimmered with an inner iridescence, changing color as she tilted the extracted pieces in the fluctuating light. Its properties were immediately apparent to her enhanced senses: perfect magical conductivity combined with physical resilience that would make it invaluable for crafting artifacts and tools.

  "The cover story will be simple enough," she told Orsafi as she carefully packed the metal fragments. "We'll claim they're from the Crimson Depths—remote enough that few have ventured there, with similar enough properties that no one will question it too closely."

  Throughout the grove, she collected plant specimens with extraordinary properties—flowers whose nectar could heal wounds instantaneously, seeds that responded to thought patterns, leaves that retained perfect impressions of whatever they touched. Each specimen was carefully extracted, ensuring the parent plants remained viable, her Collector's ethics unchanged despite her transformation.

  When a particularly striking insect—its wings like stained glass, its body emitting a soft humming sound—landed nearby, Deirdre captured it gently in an amber-like substance she had discovered on a previous visit. The material preserved living creatures in suspended animation, allowing for transportation without harm.

  "Perfect," she whispered, holding the preserved specimen up to examine it. "This will convince everyone these came from legitimate expeditions."

  Orsafi chirped in agreement, then suddenly tensed, gem flashing with increased intensity. The carbuncle scampered toward a section of the grove they hadn't yet explored, chirping insistently.

  Deirdre followed, trusting her companion's instincts. Beyond a curtain of luminous vines, she found what Orsafi had sensed—a small pool of liquid that defied categorization, neither water nor metal nor glass, but somehow incorporating aspects of all three. Its surface rippled with complex patterns that seemed to form and dissolve into recognizable symbols before shifting again.

  "Runic essence," Deirdre breathed, recognizing it from descriptions in she had read in old journals "I didn't think any pure sources remained."

  With reverent care, she extracted a small vial of the substance, knowing its value alone could dwarf anything she had ever managed to collect before. This was the raw material from which many powerful potions and inks were made. Diluted versions existed in certain Domains, but nothing this pure, this potent.

  When her collection cases were nearly full with carefully selected specimens, Deirdre surveyed their haul with satisfaction. Every item had been chosen not just for its value but for its believability—nothing so extraordinary that it would immediately raise alarms, yet valuable enough to fund their growing operation.

  "Time to find the rarer specimens," she told Orsafi, gesturing toward the more unstable regions of the Source landscape. "Are you ready for a bit more danger?"

  The carbuncle's excited chirp was all the answer she needed.

  The terrain changed dramatically as they ventured toward the fractured regions. The lush, luminous moss gave way to bare crystal and stone, cracked and unstable beneath their feet. The air itself felt thinner, charged with volatile energy that raised the hair on Deirdre's arms and made Orsafi's fur stand on end.

  Crystalline spires here had grown chaotically, jutting at impossible angles as though reality itself had tried and failed to maintain consistent physical laws. Some of the formations vibrated visibly, producing tones that hovered at the edge of hearing—harmonic resonances that Deirdre could feel in her bones.

  "Stay close," she warned Orsafi as they picked their way across a particularly unstable section. "The fracture points are stronger here."

  As if to emphasize her warning, a distant spire suddenly cracked, the sound like breaking glass magnified a thousandfold. The massive formation began to topple with dreamlike slowness, its crystalline surface catching the lightning's violet glow as it fell. Deirdre froze, calculating its trajectory with relief—it would miss them by a wide margin.

  But the impact when it hit sent shockwaves through the unstable ground. Cracks raced across the surface where they stood, and Deirdre felt the terrible sensation of emptiness opening beneath her. She leapt forward instinctively, Orsafi clutched against her chest, as the section of ground they had been standing on disappeared into the void.

  They landed hard on a stable outcropping, Deirdre's breath knocked from her lungs by the impact. For a moment, they lay there, Orsafi trembling against her, both staring at the void that had nearly claimed them. Nothing existed within that chasm—a perfect absence that hurt to look at directly.

  "Too close," Deirdre gasped when she could speak again. "But we're not turning back yet."

  The risk was worth it, she knew. In these unstable regions, the rarest specimens could be found—resources born from the chaotic energies at the boundaries where reality frayed. Specimens that would be not just valuable but crucial for their mission.

  Carefully rising, she continued on with greater caution, testing each step before committing her weight. Orsafi stayed closer now, the carbuncle's earlier enthusiasm tempered by their narrow escape.

  As they ventured deeper, Deirdre became aware of movement at the edges of her vision—flickers of presence that vanished when she tried to focus directly on them. These were the entities unique to the Source, barely substantial enough to be called creatures, more like sentient patterns in the energy field itself.

  One manifested more clearly than the others—a swirling, vaguely humanoid shape composed of what looked like liquid crystal, its "features" constantly flowing and reforming. It observed them with interest, maintaining a careful distance.

  "We mean no harm," Deirdre said softly, unsure if the entity could understand language but certain it would comprehend intent. "We're only gathering what we need."

  The entity didn't respond in words, but the pattern of its swirling form shifted in what Deirdre interpreted as acknowledgment. It drifted closer, extending what might have been a limb toward a cluster of crystal formations Deirdre hadn't noticed—extraordinary specimens that pulsed with rainbow light in perfect synchronization with the lightning overhead.

  "Thank you," Deirdre said, carefully approaching the crystals. The entity drifted backward, maintaining its distance but continuing to observe as she collected several of the formations, handling them with reverent care.

  These specimens were beyond valuable—they were artifacts of the Source's original power, capable of channeling energy in ways that would seem miraculous in the separated Domains. In the right hands, they could power entire systems; in the wrong ones, they could cause devastating destruction.

  They had almost completed their collection when Deirdre felt it—a subtle shift in the unstable energies around them, a premonition of danger that set her nerves on edge. Nearby, a major void fracture was expanding, its emptiness consuming more of reality with each passing moment.

  "Time to go," she told Orsafi urgently, securing the final specimens in her case. "Now!"

  They retreated quickly but carefully, Deirdre's enhanced senses allowing her to choose the most stable path back toward the safer regions. Behind them, the fracture continued to grow, the sound of reality tearing like fabric being ripped apart following them as they fled.

  They reached the boundary of the unstable zone just as a massive section collapsed behind them, disappearing into the void. The crystal entity that had assisted them flickered briefly at the edge of the stable region, its form rippling in what Deirdre chose to interpret as farewell, before dissolving back into the energy currents of the Source.

  Safe on solid ground once more, Deirdre paused to catch her breath, heart pounding from the narrow escape. Their collection cases were full, containing specimens of extraordinary value and potential—resources that would fund their operation and provide tools for the challenges ahead.

  "Worth the risk," she assured Orsafi, who chirped agreement despite her ruffled fur.

  As they made their way back toward the doorway, Deirdre found herself reflecting on the Source's contradictory nature—simultaneously decaying and vital, dangerous and nurturing. Like the Guardian before her, she was coming to understand that this was not simple entropy but a complex process of transformation—one that would continue unless the Domains were reconnected, the fragments of the Source made whole once more.

  The mission ahead seemed more urgent than ever.

  Lugh and three other Noctari waited in the archive when Deirdre emerged from the portal, their large eyes reflecting the dim light as they turned toward her in unison. Their expressions shifted from tension to relief when they saw her return unharmed, Orsafi bouncing happily at her heels.

  "You were gone longer than expected," Lugh said, his feathers smoothing as his anxiety eased. "We were beginning to worry."

  "The collection took more time than anticipated," Deirdre explained, carefully setting down her cases on the archive's large central table. "But it was worth it. See for yourselves."

  She opened the first case, revealing the crystalline formations nestled in their protective wrappings. The specimens glowed with inner light, casting rainbow patterns across the ancient stone walls of the archive. The Noctari gathered closer, their expressions a mixture of awe and reverence as they beheld resources not seen in the Exchange for centuries.

  "Extraordinary," breathed the eldest of the Noctari, a female named Sora whose silver-streaked feathers marked her advanced age. "These are pure Source crystals—not the diluted versions found in the separated Domains."

  "And these," Deirdre continued, opening the second case to reveal the metal specimens, "are raw creation alloy. The base material from which many of the most powerful artifacts were once forged."

  Lugh picked up one of the smaller pieces, turning it in his taloned hands. The metal shifted colors as it moved, responding to his touch with subtle pulses of light.

  "I've seen references to this in our oldest texts," he said quietly. "But never the material itself. The crafters at the Exchange would pay fortunes for even a fragment of this quality."

  "Precisely," Deirdre said with a nod. "And this—" she lifted the vial of liquid essence carefully, "—is something even more valuable."

  The liquid caught the light, patterns forming and dissolving within its depths. The Noctari fell silent, recognizing the significance of what they were seeing even if they lacked the words to name it.

  "Runic essence," Sora whispered finally. "Our oldest texta speak of this."

  "Yes," Deirdre confirmed. "There is very little left, even in the Source itself. This will not be for sale—we'll need it for our work ahead."

  They continued unpacking and examining the collection, the Noctari's expertise proving invaluable as they helped identify and catalog each specimen. Their knowledge, preserved in secret for generations after Management had banished them from their position as archive custodians, complemented Deirdre's Collector experience perfectly.

  "The challenge now," Deirdre said as they finished organizing the collection, "is introducing these items at auction without drawing too much suspicion. They're valuable—extraordinarily so—but they must appear to have come from legitimate expeditions to known Domains."

  "We've considered this," Lugh replied, producing a carefully drawn map from within his robes. He spread it across the table, revealing a detailed chart of the Exchange's known Domains. "These regions—" he indicated several areas marked with red circles, "—are remote enough that few Collectors venture there regularly. Their properties are similar enough to the Source materials to provide plausible cover."

  "Perfect," Deirdre said, studying the map. "We'll need to create detailed cover stories for each significant piece."

  "Already prepared," said another Noctari, producing a small, leather-bound journal. "We've crafted expedition narratives that align with your known collection patterns. Nothing too extraordinary, but enough to explain these finds."

  Deirdre nodded, impressed by their thoroughness. "And we should divide the collection into multiple lots," she added. "Presenting everything at once would draw too much attention."

  "Agreed," Lugh said. "We've identified several auction houses throughout the Exchange, each with different clientele. By distributing the specimens among them, we can avoid creating obvious patterns."

  They spent the next hour carefully dividing and packaging the specimens, assigning each group to a different auction house with its accompanying cover story. The most extraordinary pieces would be held back for private sales to trusted buyers, while the more conventional specimens could be presented openly at the Exchange's main auction hall.

  "One final precaution," Sora said when they had finished. "We will assign watchers to observe Management's representatives during each auction. Their reactions may tell us how suspicious they've become of these new resources appearing in the Exchange."

  "Excellent idea," Deirdre agreed. "The longer we can operate without direct opposition, the stronger our position will become."

  As they prepared to leave the archive, their precious cargo carefully distributed among inconspicuous containers, Deirdre felt a surge of gratitude for these allies who had committed themselves to her cause. The Noctari had preserved knowledge that Management had tried to erase, maintaining their vigil for generations while waiting for a chance to restore the truth about the Source.

  Now, that chance had come. And they would not waste it.

  Back in her quarters, Deirdre laid out the specimens assigned to the first auction on her small workbench. Each piece required special preparation to maximize its value while minimizing questions about its origin. She worked with practiced precision, cleaning away debris, polishing surfaces, and preparing display settings that would showcase each specimen's properties without revealing too much about its true nature.

  The crystalline formations responded to her touch, their inner light brightening as though recognizing her connection to the Source. She arranged them in a presentation box lined with black velvet, positioning each to catch the light most effectively. The contrast between the dark background and the luminous crystals was striking—sure to attract attention at auction.

  Next came the metal samples, which she carefully cleaned to reveal their iridescent surfaces. These were potentially the most valuable items in monetary terms, as their properties would be immediately apparent to crafters and artificers who worked with enchanted materials. She selected three pieces of varying sizes, knowing they would fetch extraordinary prices even without revealing their true origin.

  For each specimen, she rehearsed her cover story aloud, Orsafi watching attentively from her perch by the window.

  "The crystalline formations were discovered in the lower chambers of the Echoing Depths," she recited. "The acoustics there created the unusual resonance patterns within the crystal structure. Extremely difficult to extract safely due to the unstable nature of the surrounding rock formations."

  She moved to the next specimen, adjusting her tone to sound casual yet knowledgeable.

  "This variant of resonant metal was found in a previously unexplored section of the Crimson Shallows. The unusual color shifts are likely due to exposure to the Domain's fluctuating magical fields. Three expedition members were required to extract it safely."

  She continued through each item, refining her explanations until they flowed naturally. The stories were plausible, detailed enough to satisfy curiosity without inviting too much scrutiny, and carefully aligned with her known expedition patterns. Anyone checking the Guild records would find documentation of her authorized visits to these Domains, thanks to Lugh's careful manipulation of the archive records.

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  As she was completing her preparations, a knock at her door startled her. Hastily covering the specimens with a cloth, she opened it to find another Collector—Verin, an acquaintance known for his expertise in crystalline formations.

  "Deirdre!" he exclaimed, his expression bright with enthusiasm. "I heard you were back from expedition. The entire Exchange is buzzing about tomorrow's auction. Rumor has it you've found something extraordinary."

  She kept her expression pleasant but neutral. "Rumors tend to exaggerate," she replied. "I found some interesting specimens, certainly, but 'extraordinary' might be stretching it."

  Verin's eyes darted past her to the cloth-covered workbench, his curiosity palpable. "May I?" he asked, already half-stepping into her quarters.

  Deirdre hesitated, then nodded. A complete refusal would only heighten suspicion, and Verin's expertise meant he would be attending the auction regardless. Better to control his first exposure to the specimens.

  She led him to the workbench and carefully uncovered one of the crystalline formations—remarkable enough to justify the rumors, but not the most exceptional piece in her collection.

  Verin's breath caught. "By the Domains," he whispered, leaning closer. "This is... where did you find this?"

  "The Echoing Depths," Deirdre replied smoothly. "A previously unexplored chamber. The acoustic properties there created unique conditions for crystal formation."

  She watched as he examined the specimen with professional appreciation, noting the way his eyes narrowed at certain features. Verin was no fool; he recognized the unusual properties of the crystal, even if he couldn't identify its true source.

  "You're fortunate to have found this intact," he said finally. "The resonance structure is unlike anything I've seen before. The auction tomorrow should be... interesting."

  "I expect reasonable returns," Deirdre said with deliberate modesty. "Nothing unprecedented."

  Verin laughed. "Always the understated one. Well, don't be surprised if bidding gets competitive. Half the Collectors in the Exchange are talking about what you might have brought back this time."

  That was unwelcome news, but Deirdre kept her expression neutral. "Well, they'll see soon enough. Was there something specific you needed, Verin?"

  Recognizing the polite dismissal, he straightened and backed toward the door. "Just professional curiosity. I'll see you at the auction tomorrow."

  After he left, Deirdre re-covered the specimens with a sigh. "Word has spread faster than I'd hoped," she told Orsafi. The carbuncle chirped sympathetically from her perch.

  Deirdre returned to her preparations with renewed focus. The increased attention meant she would need to be even more careful, her explanations even more polished. Tomorrow would be a delicate balance—generating enough funds for their operation while avoiding the kind of scrutiny that might alert Management to her true activities.

  She selected her auction attire with care—professional but unremarkable, nothing that would draw additional attention. After a final check of her specimens, she retired to bed, though sleep proved elusive. Her mind raced with contingency plans, rehearsed explanations, and calculations of the resources they would need for the mission ahead.

  Most of all, she thought about the Source—its terrible beauty, its simultaneous decay and vitality, and the urgent need to begin the reconnection process before more Domains drifted too far to be saved.

  Tomorrow would be just the beginning.

  The Exchange's Grand Auction Hall hummed with anticipation. Collectors, Dungeon Keepers, and crafters from throughout the Exchange had gathered, drawn by rumors of exceptional specimens soon to be presented. The circular space, with its tiered seating and central auction block, was nearly full despite the early hour.

  Deirdre made her way through the crowd, acknowledging greetings from colleagues with polite nods while maintaining a calm, professional demeanor. She had left Orsafi in her quarters, knowing the carbuncle would attract too much attention at such a high-profile event. Instead, she carried a small communication device provided by the Noctari, disguised as a simple brooch on her lapel.

  At the submission counter, she presented her specimens to the appraisers—experienced Collectors whose job was to evaluate and authenticate items before they went to auction. The head appraiser, a thin man with spectacles and perpetually ink-stained fingers, visibly straightened as he opened the first presentation box.

  "Extraordinary clarity," he murmured, lifting one of the crystalline formations to the light. "And this resonance pattern... fascinating."

  Deirdre provided her prepared explanation about the Echoing Depths, watching as he made notes on his evaluation sheet. When he reached for the metal samples, his eyebrows rose even higher.

  "This composition is most unusual," he said, testing the metal's weight in his palm. "Where did you say this was found?"

  "The Crimson Shallows," Deirdre replied smoothly. "A newly discovered section. The extraction was particularly challenging due to the unstable conditions."

  The appraiser nodded slowly, his expression betraying professional excitement despite his attempt at neutrality. "These will generate significant interest," he said, affixing official Guild seals to the presentation boxes. "They'll be presented in the third segment of today's auction."

  Deirdre thanked him and moved to find a seat, positioning herself where she could observe both the auction block and the audience. From this vantage point, she could monitor reactions without being too conspicuous herself.

  The hall continued to fill, and Deirdre noted with concern how many senior Collectors and prominent Dungeon Keepers had chosen to attend. Word had clearly spread beyond casual interest. In the upper tier, she spotted two observers whose formal black attire marked them as Management representatives—not unusual for a major auction, but their presence still sent a flicker of unease through her.

  She also noted Milani and her team seated across the hall. Thea was leaning forward, her expression attentive as she studied the catalog of items to be presented. Kellan sat beside her, his scholarly demeanor betraying nothing while Vex lounged back, seemingly relaxed but missing nothing. Milani herself caught Deirdre's gaze briefly, offering a small nod of acknowledgment before returning her attention to the proceedings.

  The auction began with standard fare—quality specimens from recent expeditions, but nothing exceptional. Deirdre observed the patterns of bidding, noting which Collectors and Keepers were being most aggressive in their acquisitions. This information would be valuable for future planning.

  As the second segment concluded, anticipation in the hall grew noticeably. The auctioneer, a tall woman with a commanding presence and perfect diction, approached the podium for the third segment—the one containing Deirdre's specimens.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, her voice carrying effortlessly throughout the hall, "we now move to our premier offerings. First, a series of crystalline formations with exceptional resonance properties, recovered from the previously unexplored regions of the Echoing Depths."

  An assistant brought forward the first of Deirdre's crystal specimens, placing it on a rotating display platform that caught the light perfectly. A murmur spread through the audience as the crystal's inner light responded to the movement, sending patterns of color dancing across the walls of the auction hall.

  "We'll open the bidding at five hundred gold," the auctioneer stated.

  There was a moment of hesitation—a substantial opening bid for what appeared to be a decorative specimen—then a flurry of paddles rose around the room. Deirdre watched as the initial tepid response quickly transformed into a bidding war between a renowned artificer and a Dungeon Keeper known for his crystal-themed labyrinths.

  "One thousand," called the artificer. "Twelve hundred," countered the Dungeon Keeper. "Fifteen hundred," the artificer responded without hesitation.

  The bidding escalated rapidly, far exceeding Deirdre's most optimistic projections. When it finally settled at twenty-eight hundred imperials—nearly six times the opening bid—a ripple of amazement went through the crowd. The auctioneer seemed momentarily taken aback before regaining her professional composure.

  "Sold, to Master Artificer Thelian for twenty-eight hundred gold."

  The pattern repeated with each of Deirdre's specimens. The metal samples generated even more intense competition, with crafters and artificers driving the bidding to unprecedented levels. By the time her final item had been sold, for a sum that would have funded ten normal expeditions, the atmosphere in the hall had shifted from professional interest to barely contained excitement.

  From her careful observation point, Deirdre noted the Management representatives conferring quietly, their expressions unreadable but their attention clearly focused on the proceedings. They made notations in small black books, occasionally glancing toward the auction block with increased intensity.

  When the auction concluded, Deirdre made her way to the payment office to complete the transactions. The funds would be transferred to her Guild account—a substantial sum that would provide the resources they needed for their growing operation. As she finished the paperwork, she became aware of a presence at her elbow.

  "Quite an impressive collection," said a quiet voice.

  Deirdre turned to find herself facing Magister Everin, one of the Exchange's most senior Collectors and a member of the Guild's governing council. His silver hair and lined face spoke of decades of experience, while his keen eyes missed nothing.

  "Thank you, Magister," she replied, maintaining her composure despite the unexpected attention from such a high-ranking figure. "Fortune favored this expedition."

  "Indeed." His gaze was penetrating, his tone conversational but probing. "The Echoing Depths and Crimson Shallows have been documented for centuries, yet somehow these extraordinary specimens remained undiscovered until now."

  Deirdre met his gaze steadily. "Previously unexplored sections, Magister. The Domains are vast, and our maps are never complete."

  "True enough." He smiled slightly. "I would be interested in hearing more about these expeditions. Perhaps you would consider collaborating on future ventures? My resources are considerable, and your... instincts for discovery are clearly exceptional."

  The offer was both an opportunity and a danger. Everin's support could provide valuable protection, but closer association would mean greater scrutiny of her activities.

  "I'm honored by the suggestion, Magister," she said carefully. "My schedule is quite full at the moment, but I would certainly be open to discussing possibilities for the future."

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied with this diplomatic response. "My door is open when you're ready, Collector Deirdre. Results like today's suggest you have a promising future in the Guild."

  As he moved away, Deirdre noticed an Enforcer observing their conversation from several yards away. The figure made no attempt to approach but watched with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

  She gathered her documentation and made a strategic exit, moving confidently but not hurriedly toward the hall's main doors. Throughout the space, conversations buzzed with speculation about her discoveries and what they might mean for future expeditions. She caught fragments as she passed:

  "Never seen resonance patterns like that—" "The metal's conductivity properties could revolutionize artifact creation—" "How did she extract them without damaging the structure?"

  She maintained her professional demeanor until she was clear of the auction hall, then quickened her pace. The Noctari would be waiting for her report, and she had much to tell them—both about the successful sales and the unexpected attention they had generated.

  As she rounded a corner, she nearly collided with Milani, who appeared to have been waiting for her.

  "Impressive haul, Deirdre," Milani said, her usual smirk firmly in place. "You've got everyone talking. Even the management types seem interested."

  "Just a successful expedition," Deirdre replied with deliberate casualness.

  Milani's eyes narrowed slightly. "Must have been some expedition. Those specimens were... unusual."

  "Fortune favors the bold," Deirdre said with a small shrug.

  "Does it now?" Milani studied her for a moment longer, then stepped aside. "Well, congratulations. But be careful. Success like that draws attention—not all of it welcome."

  The warning seemed genuine, surprising Deirdre. Before she could respond, Milani continued on her way, leaving Deirdre to wonder if there had been more to the brief exchange than simple professional rivalry.

  She would need to consider Milani and her team carefully in the days ahead. They were observant and well-connected—potential allies, perhaps, but also potential complications if they began asking too many questions too soon.

  For now, though, the first stage of their plan had succeeded beyond expectations. They had the resources they needed to move forward.

  Horizon's End was eerily quiet after hours, the usually bustling tavern emptied of its regular patrons. The polished wooden tables gleamed in the low lamplight, and the faint scent of spices and ale lingered in the air. Omylia had closed early, turning away the few late customers with apologies about "inventory maintenance"—a transparent excuse, but effective enough.

  She waited at the far corner table, her silver hair catching the soft light as she looked up at Deirdre's arrival. Her expression was a mixture of concern and curiosity, clearly noting the changes in her friend that had only become more pronounced since their last meeting.

  "You're different," Omylia said without preamble as Deirdre slid into the seat across from her. "It's not just the success at the auction, or even the drake incident. Something has changed about you, Dee. Something fundamental."

  Deirdre had prepared for this conversation, rehearsing explanations that would convey the truth without overwhelming her friend. But faced with Omylia's direct perception, careful scripts felt inadequate.

  "You're right," she said simply, her voice low despite the empty tavern. "Something has changed. Something... profound."

  Omylia leaned forward, her intuitive empathy sharpening. "This isn't just about finding valuable specimens, is it? There's more."

  Deirdre took a deep breath, her fingers brushing the key that hung beneath her shirt. "What I'm about to tell you will sound impossible. It contradicts everything we've been taught about the Exchange and the Domains. But I need you to listen, to try to understand."

  "Dee," Omylia said, reaching across to take her hand, "we've known each other for years. Whatever it is, I'm listening."

  Slowly, methodically, Deirdre began to explain. She spoke of the ancient archive beneath the Guild Hall, the mysterious door, the Source world that lay beyond. She described the dying Guardian and the truth about the Domains—not separate worlds, but fragments of a shattered whole. She explained the Exchange itself as a Domain, one that had been stabilized early after the Fracturing to serve as sanctuary.

  As she spoke, Omylia's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to a dawning wonder. When Deirdre described the Source itself—its beauty and terror, its crystalline spires and void fractures—Omylia's eyes widened, her breath catching.

  "My grandmother used to tell stories," she whispered. "Tales of a time before the Exchange, when reality was fluid and creation flowed from thought. I always thought they were just bedtime fantasies, meant to help children dream of magical worlds."

  Deirdre nodded. "Many cultures have fragments of the truth embedded in their oldest stories. Management has worked for centuries to suppress this knowledge, to maintain the illusion that the Exchange stands apart from the Domains rather than being one among them."

  "Management?" Omylia repeated, her voice catching.

  "Yes," Deirdre confirmed. "Controlling the Enforcers, shaping the Guild's policies, maintaining the separation between Domains to preserve its own power."

  Omylia was silent for a long moment, processing this revelation. Then her gaze sharpened, focusing on Deirdre with new understanding. "And you... what's happened to you, Dee? There's something you're not saying yet."

  Deirdre hesitated, then decided that half-truths would serve no purpose with someone as perceptive as Omylia. "The Guardian was dying," she said quietly. "The being that had maintained what remains of the Source since the Fracturing. With its last strength, it passed its knowledge, its purpose... its essence... to me."

  She met Omylia's stunned gaze steadily. "I'm changing, Omy. Becoming something more than I was. I can feel the Domains now, sense their connections and fractures. I can create portals without gate stones, access resources from any Domain directly through the Source."

  "By the stars," Omylia breathed. "You're becoming the new Guardian."

  "I don't know exactly what I'm becoming," Deirdre admitted. "But I know what I must do. The Domains are drifting further apart. If they aren't reconnected to the Source, they'll eventually collapse entirely. Including the Exchange."

  Understanding dawned in Omylia's eyes. "The auction. Those specimens weren't from expeditions at all, were they? They came directly from the Source."

  Deirdre nodded. "We needed resources to begin our work. The reconnection process will be difficult, dangerous. And Management will oppose us once they realize what we're doing."

  "'We'?" Omylia asked.

  "The Noctari have joined me," Deirdre explained. "They've preserved knowledge about the Source for generations, waiting for a chance to restore the truth. Lugh and others are helping coordinate our efforts from within the Exchange."

  Omylia was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the worn tabletop. When she looked up, her expression had solidified into calm resolve. "What do you need from me?"

  Relief flooded through Deirdre. She had hoped for understanding, perhaps even support, but the immediate offer of assistance moved her deeply. "For now, information and a safe meeting place. Horizon's End is neutral ground, popular enough that gatherings here won't attract attention. We need eyes and ears throughout the Exchange, ways to gauge reactions and monitor Management's moves."

  Omylia nodded. "I can do that. People talk freely here, especially after a few drinks. I hear things—whispers, rumors, observations. And no one pays much attention to the person pouring their ale."

  "It could become dangerous," Deirdre warned. "If Management realizes you're helping us..."

  "I'm not afraid," Omylia said firmly. "If what you're saying is true—and I believe it is—then everything is at stake. Not just the Exchange, but all the Domains. I won't stand by while the world crumbles, Dee."

  They established code phrases and signals—subtle ways to indicate when information needed to be shared or when danger threatened. Omylia suggested using certain drink orders and menu items as ways to convey messages without raising suspicion.

  "A request for Mistleaf tea with honey means you need to speak privately," Omylia explained. "The Spring Valley special means danger is close. And if I mention that the Fireberry wine is particularly good this season, it means Management's representatives have been asking questions."

  Their planning continued late into the night, cementing a system of communication that would allow them to exchange critical information even under observation. When they finally parted, Deirdre felt the weight of her burden lightened slightly by the knowledge that she had one more trusted ally in the Exchange.

  Lugh and five Noctari waited for Deirdre in a secluded chamber of their hidden community. The auction proceeds had been transferred securely, and they gathered now to discuss the distribution of these crucial resources.

  "The sale exceeded our most optimistic projections," Lugh said, his large eyes bright with excitement. "These funds will sustain our operation for months, perhaps longer if we're careful."

  The oldest Noctari, Sora, nodded in agreement. "We must allocate wisely. Some for securing our immediate needs, some for establishing communication networks, and a significant portion reserved for emergency contingencies."

  They spent the next hour dividing the resources according to immediate priorities: secure storage facilities throughout the Exchange, communication devices that operated outside Management's surveillance networks, supplies for the reconnection missions, and stipends for those who would need to abandon their regular duties to support their cause.

  "And our watchers report that Management has indeed taken notice," a younger Noctari named Tarik reported. "Enforcers have been instructed to document all unusual specimens appearing at auctions, with particular attention to crystalline formations and resonant metals."

  "As expected," Deirdre said with a nod. "They'll be looking for patterns—similarities between specimens, recurring properties that might indicate a common source."

  "Which is why we must be more cautious with future sales," Lugh concluded. "Spacing them out, using different auction houses, varying the types of specimens we present."

  "And we should establish a secure storage location for the most valuable items," Sora added. "Particularly the runic essence and other materials that cannot be explained as coming from known Domains."

  The discussion turned to financial matters. With the auction proceeds securely managed, they now had the means to expand their operation beyond the immediate circle of Noctari. Trusted individuals could be approached, carefully vetted, and brought into their confidence when appropriate.

  "Omylia has joined our cause," Deirdre informed them. "Horizon's End will serve as a safe meeting location and a valuable source of information. People speak freely there, and she hears much that might help us."

  The Noctari received this news with approval. "A wise choice," Sora said. "Her establishment is well-placed, and she herself has shown loyalty to you for many years."

  As their meeting continued, Tarik produced several small devices from a leather case. "Our artificers have completed the first set of communication tools," he explained, distributing the objects to those present.

  The devices were masterfully disguised as ordinary items—a brooch, a stylus, a pocket watch, each containing hidden mechanisms that could transmit messages through channels unmonitored by Management.

  "These operate on principles similar to the resonance patterns of the Source itself," Tarik explained. "Management's surveillance focuses on conventional magical frequencies—these exist outside that spectrum. We can communicate instantly and securely, so long as no one discovers the true nature of the devices."

  Deirdre examined the brooch she had been given, admiring the craftsmanship that concealed its true purpose. "These will be invaluable as our operation expands," she said. "How many can your artificers produce?"

  "A dozen more within the week," Tarik replied. "More after that, though the materials for each must be carefully sourced to avoid detection."

  They established codes and protocols for these communications—who would have priority access, what information warranted immediate alerts, how to verify the identity of the sender. The system was elegantly simple but highly secure, balancing the need for caution with the necessity of rapid information exchange.

  "And what of Horizon's End as our safe haven?" Lugh asked. "How will we utilize it without drawing attention?"

  "Omylia has suggested a system of code phrases," Deirdre explained, outlining the arrangement she had made with her friend. "And she's offered the private room in the back for more sensitive meetings. It has a separate entrance that can be used discreetly."

  Their planning continued, establishing fallback points, emergency protocols, and contingency plans for various scenarios. If Management discovered their operation, if the Enforcers increased their surveillance, if the Guild implemented new restrictions on Collector activities—each possibility was considered and prepared for.

  By the time they concluded, their operation had taken on a new level of organization and purpose. The resources from the auction had transformed their small group of idealists into a structured network with the means to act on a larger scale.

  "Now," Deirdre said as they prepared to disperse, "let's discuss our first reconnaissance mission. Based on your records, which Domain shows the most critical instability?"

  The Noctari archives contained records of Domain stability dating back centuries—observations meticulously documented despite Management's attempts to suppress such knowledge. Sora spread the charts across a large table, their fading ink still legible in the soft light of the hidden chamber.

  "Here," she said, pointing to a section marked with fading red symbols. "The Whispering Heath. Our observations show accelerating instability over the past decade. The patterns suggest it's reaching a critical point."

  Deirdre studied the charts, recognizing the precision and care that had gone into their creation. "You've been monitoring this for generations," she said, not bothering to hide her admiration.

  "It was our sacred duty," Lugh explained. "Even after Management banished us from our position as archive custodians, we continued our work in secret. The knowledge could not be allowed to disappear."

  The charts showed patterns of energy fluctuation throughout dozens of Domains, with particular attention to those showing signs of instability. The Whispering Heath stood out clearly—its pattern of deterioration had accelerated dramatically in recent years.

  "It's a small Domain," Sora explained. "Not particularly resource-rich, which is why few Collectors visit it regularly. Mostly grasslands with scattered forests, inhabited by wind spirits and lesser elemental entities."

  "Its size makes it an ideal first target," Lugh added. "The reconnection process should be more manageable than with a larger, more complex Domain."

  Deirdre nodded in agreement. "And its Domain Lord? What do we know of them?"

  "An entity known as the Wind Sovereign," Tarik replied, consulting an ancient text. "Neither hostile nor particularly friendly to Collectors. Primarily concerned with maintaining the atmospheric conditions of the Heath."

  "If the Domain is truly approaching collapse, the Sovereign should be receptive to alternatives," Deirdre reasoned. "Their very existence is tied to the Domain's stability."

  They continued poring over the charts and records, developing a comprehensive understanding of the Whispering Heath—its geography, its magical properties, the behavior of its Domain Lord. This knowledge would be crucial for the approach Deirdre planned to make.

  "We should assemble a small team," she decided. "Myself, Lugh, and perhaps two more of your most experienced observers. A larger group might alarm the Wind Sovereign."

  "I volunteer," Tarik said immediately, his feathers ruffling with determination.

  "And I will join you as well," Sora added. "My experience with the older records may prove valuable if we encounter unexpected patterns."

  The team established, they turned to practical preparations—supplies they would need, equipment for documenting the reconnection process, and contingency plans if things went awry. The Whispering Heath was not inherently dangerous, but any Domain approaching collapse presented unpredictable risks.

  "When do we depart?" Lugh asked, excitement evident beneath his scholarly demeanor.

  Deirdre considered briefly. "Three days. That gives us time to prepare properly and ensure our operation here remains secure in our absence."

  As the meeting concluded, Deirdre felt a growing sense of purpose. The theoretical planning was giving way to concrete action. Soon, they would attempt the first reconnection—the first step toward healing the fractured Source and preventing the collapse that threatened all Domains.

  "We should rest," she said, noting the fatigue evident in her companions' postures. "The days ahead will demand all our strength and focus."

  With that, they dispersed to their various quarters, the excitement of impending action tempered by the weight of responsibility they all shared.

  Three days later, they gathered in the ancient archive chamber, the small team assembled before the doorway to the Source. Each member carried only essential supplies—documentation tools, emergency provisions, and communication devices disguised as ordinary accessories. Lugh and Tarik wore the traditional blue robes of Noctari scholars, while Sora had opted for more practical attire suitable for the Heath's open terrain.

  Deirdre checked their preparations one final time, her movements methodical but charged with purpose. Her own pack was light, containing only what couldn't be accessed directly through her connection to the Source. Orsafi perched on her shoulder, the carbuncle's gem pulsing with eager anticipation.

  "Once we're through," Deirdre explained, "I'll create a direct portal to the Whispering Heath. We won't need to pass through the Hall of Doors, which means Management won't have records of our entry into this Domain."

  "An advantage," Lugh noted, "but also a risk. If something goes wrong, no one will know where to find us."

  "That's why the communication devices are essential," Deirdre replied. "If we don't check in at the appointed times, our allies here will know something has happened."

  She looked at each member of the team, seeing determination and resolve in their expressions. They had committed themselves to this cause knowing the risks, understanding that they were challenging the foundations of the Exchange itself.

  "Are we ready?" she asked, her hand moving to the key at her throat.

  Three nods answered her question. With practiced movements, she unlocked the ancient door, revealing the swirling energy of the Source beyond.

  "The first step," she said quietly as they prepared to cross the threshold. "Toward reconnection. Toward healing the shattered worlds."

  Together, they stepped through the portal into the Source, embarking on a mission that would change the course of the Exchange forever.