As the Master rose from his chair, the air in the chamber seemed to grow heavier, the weight of unspoken knowledge pressing down on everyone present. Kaelen stood unwavering, his golden eyes locking with the Master’s, while Sigrid leaned casually against the edge of a table, her silver gaze sharp and unyielding.

Nessa, however, shifted uncomfortably. Though she held her composure, the sheer intensity of the place seemed to gnaw at her resolve. It wasn’t the school itself—it was the sense of expectation, of being out of her depth in the presence of hunters who had dedicated lifetimes to their craft.

The Master’s eyes flicked toward her, his tone as cold as the stone walls. “The young one. You’re not a hunter of this school, nor do you carry the scars of a seasoned predator. Why are you here?”

Nessa opened her mouth to reply, but Kaelen stepped in. “She’s here because she’s earned her place. But…” His words trailed off, and he cast a glance at her, his expression unreadable. “The next part of this journey isn’t for someone still finding their footing. We’ll need every ounce of skill, and there’s no room for uncertainty.”

Nessa’s brow furrowed, her hands curling into fists. “I’ve pulled my weight, Kaelen. More than once. Don’t treat me like a child.”

Kaelen’s voice softened, though his words carried a weight that couldn’t be ignored. “You have, Nessa. But this isn’t a slight—it’s survival. What’s coming isn’t just about skill or courage. It’s about facing things that don’t leave room for mistakes. And I’d rather see you alive than another name etched into a gravestone.”

Sigrid, to her surprise, added her voice. “He’s right. What we’re walking into isn’t something you can fight with just guts and a bow. You’ve got potential, but you’re not there yet.”

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Nessa looked between them, her jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed she might argue, but the resolve in their eyes silenced her. Finally, she exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But don’t expect me to sit on my hands forever. You need me, you know where to find me.”

Kaelen placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but not unkind. “We’ll meet again, Nessa. Count on it.”

The next morning, they stood at the gates of the school. Nessa had packed her belongings and readied her horse. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of disappointment and unspoken gratitude.

Kaelen handed her a small token—a raven insignia etched into a piece of obsidian. “Take this. If you ever need help, show it to a hunter. They’ll know you’re under our protection.”

Nessa took the token, her fingers closing around it tightly. She nodded, her voice low but resolute. “Don’t die out there. Either of you.”

Sigrid offered a faint smirk, her expression softening just slightly. “Don’t worry about us. Worry about yourself.”

With that, Nessa mounted her horse, casting one last glance at the two hunters. Then, without another word, she rode off into the distance, the mist swallowing her figure.

Back inside the school, the Master wasted no time. He led Kaelen and Sigrid down a spiraling staircase into the depths of the fortress. The air grew colder, and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls.

“You’re after knowledge,” the Master began, his voice echoing in the confined space. “But knowledge comes with a cost, as I said before. Are you prepared to risk everything for the answers you seek?”

Kaelen’s tone was unwavering. “We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.”

The Master paused at a large iron door, placing a hand on its surface. Runes flared to life beneath his touch, and the door groaned open, revealing a vast chamber filled with ancient tomes, weapons, and relics.

“This,” the Master said, gesturing to the room, “is the Archive. It holds the secrets of every hunt, every beast, and every mistake we’ve ever made. If there’s a way to defeat the beast you seek, you’ll find it here. But be warned: not all knowledge is meant to be found.”

Kaelen and Sigrid stepped into the chamber, their eyes scanning the endless rows of shelves and pedestals. The weight of history was palpable, and both hunters knew that whatever lay within would change the course of their journey—and perhaps their lives—forever.

The Master’s voice followed them as they moved deeper into the Archive. “You have until the hourglass runs dry. After that, the door seals itself until the next moon. Choose wisely what you seek, and tread carefully.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind them, leaving Kaelen and Sigrid alone in the vast chamber of secrets.