“Aria, would you come here for a moment? There’s someone important for you to meet.” Sonia gestured to her daughter.

  Hopping off her chair, the six-year-old girl hurried to join her mother in the foyer. Sonia Corvo had wavy black hair and bright green eyes, just like her daughter. She wore a navy frilly dress with a patterned bodice. As Aria reached her mother, she noticed an older woman standing beside her. The woman had dark brown hair tied in a braided bun and wore a simple maid’s dress. “This is Valérie. She was your wet nurse when you were a baby.” Sonia smiled as Aria studied the older woman curiously.

  “Madame Corvo is correct, my lady. I have been with your family for many years.” Valérie gave a small curtsy. Aria looked at them with curiosity before noticing someone else hiding behind Valérie’s leg.

  “Her family has served ours for generations. Now, it’s time for you to meet someone very special,” Sonia explained. Both Sonia and Valérie gestured toward the girl peeking out from behind the older maid. Slowly, a timid girl around Aria’s age stepped forward. She wore a simple pink dress, and her deep brown hair matched her mother’s. Mary gave a small curtsy, nervously regarding Aria.

  “I’m Mary. It’s nice to meet you, Lady Aria.” She said shyly.

  Aria regarded the strange girl for a moment before smiling. “Nice to meet you too!” she beamed, unconcerned with formality; much to Mary’s surprise. “Mom, can I stop studying to play with Mary?”

  Sonia sighed, well aware of her daughter’s tendency to find any excuse to avoid her writing and language lessons. But since today was special, she decided to be lenient. “For a few hours... then it’s back to your studies, young lady.” She offered a soft smile as Aria ran off in excitement.

  “Oh! I know the perfect place! There’s a small river down the hill, I play there all the time!” Aria grabbed Mary’s wrist and tugged her along. “W-wait, Miss Aria!”

  Mary panted, struggling to keep up as they reached the riverside. The water was shallow, and a vast expanse of trees surrounded the area, casting dappled shadows on the ground. “This place is pretty, Lady Aria,” Mary said hesitantly. Aria skipped a rock across the water, grinning. “Just Aria or Ari is fine. We’re friends, after all, so ‘Miss’ feels weird.”

  She smiled before adding, “Mom said your family has been with ours for a long time. I’d rather you call me Ari like everyone else; since we’ll be friends for a long time too!”

  “Mary…” Aria woke up sore, her vision blurry from being in the darkness for so long. She had lost track of time, estimating it had been around four days since her natural sleep and food schedules were disrupted. The dungeon was unbearable. Vermin scurried across the cold stone floor, and the dim light outside her cell made rest nearly impossible.

  “Morning, Miss Corvo.” Damien Blackwell entered the cell with a guard, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Care to talk? I heard you’ve been refusing food again. Starving yourself isn’t wise, especially given Lord Ardna’s hospitality.”

  Aria’s gaze darkened. “If you actually cared about anyone, you wouldn’t keep people as slaves in your dungeon." She mumbled bitterly. "Where’s Mary?” Her voice was hoarse, her features weathered from exhaustion. She had crudely bandaged her open wounds with torn strips of her gown in a desperate attempt to prevent infection.

  “Oh right, your pet?” Damien smirked cruelly, trying to provoke her. “Hmm, if you agree to serve me then I’ll let you reunite with her. She misses you, you know? So much kindness in her, it's kind of dull breaking her."

  Aria didn’t let him finish. With a surge of willpower, she used her Aura Construction to form a small blade. In an instant, she lunged, aiming to slice Damien from the neck down. But just before her blade could reach him, Blackwell’s guard intercepted, striking from the side. The clash shattered Aria’s aura blade on impact.

  Aria’s aura output was far weaker than usual; her construct had been shattered effortlessly by a simple steel sword. Is it because of that ring? Her thoughts were swiftly ended as a Blackwell guard drove a knee into her stomach. She coughed out before her arm wrenched behind her back and pinned in place.

  “Damn bitch…” Damien spat, clutching his shoulder as blood dripped onto the cell floor. She had grazed him—but it wasn’t enough to kill him. Crimson stained his once-pristine robe.

  He exhaled sharply before smirking. “You should reevaluate your options. Is it that you still foolishly believe you can fight your way out of whatever situation you’re in?” Aria struggled against the guard’s grip, but the movement tore open the wounds on her legs. Fresh blood trickled onto the cold stone beneath her.

  “I would rather die than serve someone like you,” she spat defiantly. Damien merely shrugged, signaling for the guard to lift her. As Aria thrashed, he grabbed her arm and wrenched it outward.

  “I’m aware. You and your lot are prideful to a fault.” Damien kept a small smile as he pried open Aria’s hand. Her eyes widened in horror as he gripped her index finger. “Your steadfast belief that you can swing a weapon and solve all your problems led you to accomplish many feats during the war, Aria Corvo. But it’s time to wake up to reality, dear.” His grip tightened. Then, in an agonizingly slow motion, he began to press it back.

  “I suppose that since you prefer to live in your ideals instead of reality, I’ll have to bring you back down to earth.” His voice was mocking. “After all, I can’t have you swinging a weapon at me, can we?” Aria’s eyes flickered erratically as she struggled to free her hand from his grip. A sickening crunch echoed through the dungeon.

  “One down, nine more to go!” Damien Blackwell grinned, twisting her finger back with a sickening snap, the sound reverberating through the cell.

  SNAP

  Aria screamed as pain overwhelmed her. She jolted awake, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. The nightmare still clung to her mind, her body trembling from its lingering grasp. She took a shaky breath and looked around. The room was sparsely decorated. A black cloak with silver accents hung beside her dresser, and a plain metal sword leaned against it. As her surroundings came into focus, she realized she wasn’t in a dungeon.

  Right… I’m at the bookstore.

  Slowly, she clenched her hand into a fist, her fingers trembling from the residual fear. They weren’t broken. The nightmare lingered, but she reminded herself that she was safe at Roxy’s bookstore. Ever since the war, nightmares had haunted her, but lately, the memories of her torture had resurfaced more frequently. She closed her eyes, her breathing steadier now although still ragged. The memories that tortured her were just that. Memories.

  When she reopened her eyes, her heartbeat had finally slowed. Steeling herself, she pushed off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on her face, she lifted her gaze to the mirror. Staring back at her was an 18-year-old girl with emerald green eyes. Her shoulder-length navy-blue hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. “I look like a mess,” she muttered.

  Aria had been plagued by nightmares ever since the war. They came at random, sometimes lasting an entire week. The longest she had ever known peace was a single month. Once. But one thing was always certain: the nightmares would return. As she glanced around her unfamiliar surroundings, a bitter melancholy settled over her. She was in a strange land, far from the life she once knew. Her parents, her siblings, even her best friend. None of them were here anymore.

  Aria closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her thoughts before finally deciding to get up. Perhaps helping Roxy or Espoir would serve as a distraction from the relentless memories. All I can do is keep moving forward... as I always have.

  “Hey, Aria. Roxy.” Espoir bounced into the bookstore, his usual energy on full display. Aria sat at the counter, reading a book, while Roxy sorted through inventory.

  “Good both of you are here,” Roxy said, not-so-subtly dropping a box of old books off the balcony toward Espoir. “I’ve got news.” Espoir casually created a barrier around himself before catching the box. “Really?”

  “No, Espoir, I’m lying.” Roxy rolled her eyes as she made her way down to the first floor. Aria looked up as Roxy descended the winding staircase. The bookstore owner briefly smiled.

  “Anyway, I finally have an update on the investigation into Aria’s family,” Roxy's tone shifted slightly. “Although there are some complications.” Roxy's usual carefree energy vanished. She pulled out a small folder and sat at a nearby table, while Espoir silently flipped the sign to Closed.

  Aria’s closed her book as she walked to the sitting area, her expression unreadable. “You’ve finally learned something about my family?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with nervous hope.

  Roxy sighed as she poured some tea. “Being completely honest, whatever happened to them is beyond my reach.” A heavy silence settled over the room as she opened the folder. Inside were redacted military files detailing the war in Easennia, people of interest, and intelligence reports on Easennian noble families.

  “Normally, I’d be able to find something. There’s always a paper trail or at least rumors for people as famous as you. Hell, I can track the royal family's exact movements up until the minute of their execution,” Roxy said with a rueful laugh, spreading the documents across the table. “But this case is weird, for the Corvo family there's nothing. No records. No traces. They just vanished after the last time you saw them.”

  Aria stiffened, the weight of those words pressing down on her. “In other words; you think they were tampered with by Albion, or maybe someone else?”

  Roxy nodded in agreement. “More than likely." She leaned forward, her tone darkening. “I have channels for these sort of things. People who gather intel for me and keep me up to date on any particular interests of mine. Some of them are in other nations, others are have ties to the military. But anyone I sent to investigate your family’s movements after your father’s death? They all wound up dead. Pretty gruesome deaths, too,” Aria’s breath caught in her throat as Roxy continued.

  “Whoever’s behind this doesn’t just want your family’s history erased, they’re making sure no one dares to uncover it.”

  “Likely the military,” Espoir mused. “They have both the means and the motive to suppress any information about an Easennian family like the Corvos gaining traction.”

  It made sense that Albion wouldn’t want any famed figures from Easennia’s past to spark political movements in their name. While Easennia’s current government remained submissive to the nation. ever since the war, that region was a powder keg with conflict. Aria, meanwhile, sat in complete silence. Her hood concealing her expression. The news weighed on her, pressing down like an unseen force.

  Roxy gave the former soldier a sympathetic look. “I might be able to dig a little deeper, but I don’t know if it’s worth the risk. Not if it means exposing ourselves or getting more people killed for what little we’ve found.” Roxy's voice trailed off as the gravity of the situation fully settled in. “Sorry, Aria.”

  A silence filled the room before Aria finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “No, I understand. Thank you for all you've done, Roxy.” Without another word, she stood and walked out of the store. As the door clicked shut behind her, Espoir let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “She’ll be fine. Probably…” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else.

  Roxy exhaled softly, watching the door swing closed. “Poor girl…” she murmured. Roxy truly felt for Aria, but what more could she do? Roxy’s mind raced, searching for something, anything, that might help Aria.

  Later, on a park bench, Aria stared blankly as the citizens of Arkham moved past, their lives continuing as if nothing had changed. Her mind churned with memories of her past, the uncertain future, and the crushing weight of everything she had lost. “So this is how it ends,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the city. A silent sob wracked her body as the full weight of it all finally set in. She was truly alone.

  Her family was gone. Either they were dead or so far beyond her reach that they might as well be. Her best friend violently butchered because of her. The comrades she had fought beside, the people she had come to trust vanished like ashes in the wind. Now, she lived in the heart of her enemy’s homeland, a ghost among strangers, with no path forward.

  As Aria returned to the shop, the sun was beginning to set. Roxy glanced at her, and a wide grin spread across her face. “I think I found a solution.”

  “About my family's whereabouts?” Aria asked, stepping up to the counter.

  “Yup!” Roxy replied enthusiastically, pulling out a map. It detailed the layout of Albion’s military capital: The Citadel. “My sources are scattered across the nation, but there’s one place that might hold classified information related to you and your people. The Military Archives store most of the top military intelligence. Unfortunately, only state mages and above are allowed access…” Aria’s eyes widened slightly at what Roxy was suggesting.

  “We were told the Citadel was impossible to break into,” she said, recalling what she knew about Albion’s military capital. It was home to the nation’s top magic users, nobles, and even the Council of Albion. The fact that it floated in the sky made it nearly impossible to invade. Easenna's top military advisors had developed various plans for a potential siege.

  “Simply put, the information I gathered may not be accurate but the archives may have what we’ve been looking for.” Roxy pointed to the large library complex on the map. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this since it’s dangerous.”

  Aria stared at the complex diagram as she digested this information. To go to the Citadel, and specifically the military archives, was dangerous, to say the least. It was the most fortified region in Albion and swarming with active soldiers. Aria steeled her resolve as she nodded. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to learn what happened to my family.” Her voice was thick with conviction.

  Her features softened as she acknowledged Roxy’s efforts, aware of how much she was doing for someone she barely knew. “I… appreciate you thinking of me, Roxy, but this is something I must pursue on my own.” While Aria understood why Roxy wouldn’t suggest they try sneaking into The Citadel, she also knew she would never find peace until she uncovered the truth.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Roxy sighed and began rolling up the map for Aria. "I figured you'd say that," A small smile appeared on the information broker’s face as she dug under the counter. "I went ahead and got you a staff uniform for the archives. With it, you should be able to slip in by posing as a member of the night crew. Albion usually assigns guard duty to first-year academy students or low-ranking military personnel, so they likely won't pay much attention to you. But if they do, well… you can handle them." Roxy had a confident smile as Aria looked at the disguise. A mixture of emotions crossed Aria's face as she thought of the words to say. She went to speak but couldn't find the words.

  “Don’t mention it!” Roxy beamed, knowing Aria was surprised by all of her help, Roxy assumed it probably overwhelmed the girl in a way. “You can thank me for being amazing when you get back. Now hurry!”

  Thanks to Roxy’s careful planning, Aria managed to sneak aboard a ship heading to the Citadel. The massive floating city towered in the clouds, with Arkham’s tallest buildings situated below the city's floating airships. Aria wore a white dress shirt beneath a black uniform jacket. Her navy hair was tied back in a bun and covered by a black-rimmed cap that obscured her features. She also had on black uniform slacks and matching dress shoes. As the airship landed, Aria quickly leaped onto the dock before being noticed.

  The streets of the Citadel were brightly lit, showcasing breathtaking architecture, the city was a a testament to the immense wealth poured into the nation’s military. As Aria walked through the bustling avenues, she observed families strolling leisurely, their laughter mingling with the city’s lively atmosphere. Boutiques, restaurants, and various shops lined the streets, brimming with activity. The grand scale and decadence of it all reminded her of Easenna’s capital.

  As Aria followed her map, she soon arrived at the administrative district of The Citadel. Every step she took heightened her awareness; she was in the heart of enemy territory, surrounded by the very people who had sworn an oath to destroy her and her nation. Tension coiled in her chest, but she forced herself to remain composed as she passed groups of active soldiers mingling in the streets. Keep calm, Aria, no one knows who you are here.

  Eventually, Aria reached the archives. A massive stone and marble library loomed before her, its grand architecture a testament to Albion’s wealth and power. Seven towering pillars supported the outward roof, while a series of eight pediment sculptures lined the arch above the entrance. She paused, staring up at the structure. It was oddly familiar. After a moment, the realization dawned on her. It’s just like Easenna’s…

  Memories of Easenna’s capital, Selenia, resurfaced in her mind. A similar building stood there. Unlike her homelands, however, this structure contained several intricate sculptures, each depicting a different founder of the great nations. At the center was a male figure with long hair, draped in a decorated robe so finely carved that even the texture of the fabric was etched into the stone. He held a book with a sun emblazoned on its cover and golden accents on the otherwise marble statue. It was a book Aria immediately recognized. The Golden Grimoire.

  There’s no carving of the Silver Grimoire. Aria thought to herself, she wasn’t surprised given the myth behind the two books. To the Golden Grimoires side stood a woman clad in intricately armor, a metal headpiece adorning her head. In her hands was a great sword, someone Aria immediately knew at a glance. Easenna’s founder and patron saint; Selene. Surrounding them were various figures, each representing the legendary founders of their respective nations.

  A quiet sadness settled over her. Both Albion and Easenna revered their past, honoring those who had shaped their respective nations. Yet, they had become bitter enemies. Shaking off her thoughts, Aria took a deep breath. She had a mission to complete.

  4 Years Ago…

  “Lady Aria.” Mary smiled as she approached, dressed in a medic gown overtop her military uniform. Aria returned the smile, her features were tired. "Hey Mary."

  Mary’s expression quickly shifted to one of concern. It was obvious Aria hadn’t been sleeping again. “You should rest more. It’s unhealthy,” Mary scolded gently, crossing her arms. She knew Aria was overextending herself, juggling her training, management, as well as overseeing the soldiers. At just fourteen, she had already risen to the rank of sergeant, but the responsibility was taking its toll on her.

  Aria chuckled softly. “I wish you’d call me Ari…” Years had passed, yet Mary still insisted on formality. “I-It’s fine. I sleep when I can.” Aria laughed softly, though the exhaustion in her voice was evident. “Honestly, I think most of the soldiers don’t like taking orders from me…” She knew people talked about her behind her back. She had grown used to it at the academy, but that didn’t make it any less tiring.

  “I think they’ll come around,” Mary said with a reassuring smile as they walked. The aftermath of their recent victory over an Albion encampment was still unfolding—soldiers were busy sifting through documents, supplies, and the belongings of captured enemies. “The war has been hard on everyone, so try not to take it personally.” Aria sighed. She knew Mary was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  As they walked, an older boy with blonde hair and glasses waved at them. “Hey, Serge. Miss Silva,” Marco greeted them with a grin.

  “Marco,” Aria acknowledged. “Any news from the raid?”

  Marco hummed in thought. “Well, a lot of the intel is pretty useless you know? It’ll be tough to map out Albion’s exact movements. Victor is interrogating one of their commanders now.” Aria nodded in acknowledgement. “Very well, I’ll go see what I can help with.”

  Marco’s eyes widened with concern. “Ah wait! That’s really not a good idea ma'am.” Aria raised an eyebrow as she walked toward Victor’s tent. Marco closed his eyes in frustration and urged Mary not to follow.

  “Now then, The supply lines, where are they moving to now?”

  Victor was a well-built twenty-year-old man with bright orange hair styled in parted bangs and a small ponytail. He had forgotten his uniform and was wearing a fitted sleeveless shirt that highlighted his physique. Covering his hands were a pair of bloody leather gloves.

  “P-please let me go… I don’t know!” Aria’s eyes widened in horror as she entered the tent. Blood covered the floor and tent lining. A man was strapped to a wooden chair, his face bloody and disfigured. A stream of blood ran down his lips as a pile of teeth formed on the floor. “W-what is this?!” Aria shouted. Her body shook at the gruesome display as Victor wiped some blood off his face and turned to face his commanding officer.

  “Ah if it isn’t our fearless leader. I was in the middle of getting information so try to make it quick boss.” Victor met Aria’s wide-eyed gaze with a calm, almost casual expression, wiping the blood from his hands onto a cloth. The scene before them was nightmarish. The enemy soldier looked unrecognizable; his face a mask of bruises and cuts, his lips torn and stained with blood. A pile of broken and brutally ripped out teeth lined the tent floor.

  “This is what happens when people refuse to talk,” Victor said, his tone cold but matter-of-fact. “We need information, Aria. We’ve got a war to win.”

  Aria’s stomach churned. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest tightening. She knew what war did to people, but this… this was different. This wasn’t just survival. It was brutality for the sake of brutality. “Stop...” Aria said through gritted teeth, her voice shaking. “Information? You’re torturing him!”

  “So?”

  The casual tone hung heavily in the tent. Victor narrowed his eyes at his superior. He wiped his hands on his shirt, the bloody gloves discarded on the ground. “You think we have time to play nice?” he snapped. “You think Albion is going to spare you, or anyone else? People like him don’t care about who we are. They only care about winning! If you want to survive, you play by their rules, Aria.”

  “So torturing and killing him is going to save us?!” Aria’s heart hammered in her chest, but she took a step forward, her hands trembling but determined. “Not like this. There has to be another way.” Aria was taught to uphold a certain level of honor with combat. Her family ingrained the necessity of mercy in the face of an enemy. To Aria, what Victor was doing was no worse then what Albion does to their countrymen.

  Kills should be swift and painless, those who don’t maintain a level of chivalry will lose what makes them human.

  “You think this bastard would blink twice if it was us who got captured?” Victor snapped as he turned back to his prisoner. “Grow the fuck up, Aria! They don’t care about us, so why should we have honor with these bastards? If becoming a monster is what it takes to save even one Easennian, I’ll gladly get my hands dirty.” The Albion soldier groaned in pain. His face was disfigured and swollen, with streams of blood covering his broken mouth. His hands were unnaturally twisted, and an eerie purple and black hue coated his skin.

  Aria walked over and took a look at him. “He's dying…”

  “So, the princess is going to use our medics and limited supplies to save someone like him? We both know he won’t even survive at this rate.” Victor scoffed.

  “You’re right, he isn’t going to survive…” In a fluid and mechanical motion, Aria slit the man's throat with her blade, the slice was swift and clean making sure it killed him in an instant. In a burst of anger, Victor grabbed Aria by the lapels of her coat as the other soldiers watched in shock.

  “What the fuck did you do?!"

  Aria’s bangs covered her face as the older soldier tightened his grip on her coat. A crowd of soldiers began to enter the tent at the commotion. Despite being a soldier herself, Aria couldn’t stand the idea of torturing someone like that. It disgusted her.

  That day was the first time Aria had killed another human. The unknown Albion soldier's face and pain were etched into her mind. Unknown to anyone else, at that moment Aria’s eyes, hidden beneath her bangs, were wide and horrified. Later that evening, Aria threw up as the memory of her first kill was seared into her. Forever.

  Aria had managed to enter the archives. As several military officers mingled and researched, she did her best to not draw attention to herself. “Wait!”

  One of the guards yelled. Aria froze as panic set in. A stout guard walked over and eyed her curiously. “We didn’t see your badge. State your name and identification.” Putting on a brave front, Aria reached into her pocket. “Mary Silva,” she said, with as much confidence as she could muster.

  “ID?” The man eyed Aria incredulously. Aria debated whether she should try to fight now or flee. Aria remained motionless as the guards eyed her suspiciously.

  “She’s with me.” An older man wearing a black three-piece suit under a beige long coat walked over. He had short, graying dark hair. The guard glanced at eachother before nodding and walking off.

  “First day?” The man asked, offering a kind smile as he walked with his cane. “Y-yeah,” Aria replied, figuring she could convince him. The old man smiled as he walked beside her.

  “I’m Benjamin. I’ve been at the Citadel for a long time. A bit overwhelming, ain't it?” Aria reluctantly nodded. Benjamin kept a slight distance as the two walked through the massive hall. Countless shelves lined the various floors of the building. It would be easy to get lost in this place.

  “So, what section were you most interested in, Miss Silva?”

  “Interested?” Aria asked, fearing he saw through her intentions.

  “Hmm, most young people don’t venture into the archives unless they’re assigned. Those who come this time of year typically do it out of love for knowledge. I can tell you're here because you have a topic on your mind, right?” The older gentleman had a small smile, easily seeing through Aria’s reasons.

  Aria debated her next move. How would he respond if she revealed that she had come for information on Easenna? Would he accept that, or would he immediately alert the military? This place is massive, and I’ll draw attention to myself if I reveal too much. Despite her reservations, Aria had to work quickly. “I was actually interested in learning more about the war in Easenna…”

  Benjamin stopped walking for a moment. Aria clenched her fist, bracing herself for a fight. But to her shock, the old man let out a hearty laugh. “Ha! It’s been a while since a young mind expressed interest in that tragedy. Good on you for wanting to expand your horizons, especially at your age!”

  Are all the mages in this land insane? Aria thought, unsure if he was toying with her or genuinely accepting her request.

  Benjamin wiped away a tear with a handkerchief and sighed, calming himself. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll get far with your current clearance.” He gave her a kind, knowing smile. “You see, a high level of clearance is needed to access the private records. There’s the truth of war, and then there’s the hidden truth, known only to a select few.”

  “Hidden?” Aria repeated, confusion and suspicion flickering across her face.

  “Well,” Benjamin’s voice lowered. “A lot of information is kept secret. But if you’re looking for something specific, the reason you won’t find it in the regular archives is simple: it’s locked away in the vault with the treasure.”

  Aria halted in her tracks at the mention of treasure. “What do you mean by ‘treasure’?”

  Benjamin hummed thoughtfully, his eyes glinting. “Like all conflicts, the victors claim the spoils. Many Easennians were displaced in the aftermath, and our nation... well, we got to keep some of those spoils. As to be expected.” Aria’s expression darkened as she looked at the elderly man from beneath her cap. Her aura flared briefly, and she could feel the beat of her heart quicken.

  “Explain,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. Benjamin kept a kind smile as he glanced at Aria.

  “Oh, it’s nothing crazy. Inside is a bunch of gold, silver, and Chroma deposits. Moreover, many immigrants lost their personal information, which is why they tend to stay in their enclaves, in places like Arkham, and never leave. Nasty business.” The older man noted Aria’s reaction, a small smirk crossing his face. “Not to mention, many of those who came here had their jewelry, heirlooms, and even their tooth fillings were taken as spoils. Of course, there’s also some private military intel we keep, but that’s not very interesting.”

  Aria’s fist whitened as she gripped it tightly. A chilling rage bubbled beneath her. Benjamin glanced at Aria, then shrugged. “You’ll find it deeper in the archives. A word of advice: if you plan to use this information, consider grabbing a woman’s uniform from the office to draw less attention to yourself.” He smiled knowingly before leaving. Aria was left on the archive floors motionless. Her mind reeling from this revelation. A nearby guard noticied that she was in a restricted area and began to approach.

  “Hey! This area is restricted to sanctioned mages!”

  Just as the nearby guard approached her, Aria slammed him face-first into the marble tile beneath them. As the floor tiles shattered, Aria’s eyes began to glow faintly. Her aura flared for a brief moment. Aria felt a rage she hadn’t experienced since the war. Her anger wasn’t directed at a particular individual, but at the nation that had robbed her and her people of so much. An anger pulsed through her very being like a drum.

  “The Easennian war vault,” Aria began, her voice low and downright murderous. She grabbed the fallen man by the roof of his mouth, her grip tightening as the man’s eyes bulged in fear. It felt like she was going to rip his teeth out if he didn’t answer. As if Aria would torture him for the information she needed.

  “Where is it?”

  Hard to believe she ended up at the Citadel of all places. Benjamin Watts let out a small laugh as he saw his chauffeur parked in front of the archives. “Never thought I’d get to see another Corvo swordsman in my lifetime. Much less Nicolas’ daughter in a place like this. I do wonder if she’ll be able to survive them... Well I suppose we’ll find out if your little girl has the same light that you did, old friend.”

  Chapter Preview:

  With her only lead on her family's fate locked behind a war vault. Aria begins her fight against Albion's military.

  Next Time:

  Chapter 17: A Hidden Truth part 2