Over the next three days Exill poured himself into work, trying to raise even one extra Denar to fund the long trip ahead. A chasm had formed in his relationship with Tsarra since the incident. It had only grown further when he informed her that he was taking the Brieshire posting and was taking Envy with him.

“But you said it was dangerous!” The worry was evident in her eyes.

“I took a reading again and it said it would be fine if I take Envy. Diviners deal in probabilities remember, futures change.” He ignored the disapproving look from the Vampire.

Envy dragged Exill to the side once Tsarra left to run some errands.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” She fumed, “Are you really going to deceive her with the Brieshire posting then pull the rug out from under her when we don’t return in two weeks?” The barely concealed anger was evident from her grip strength.

“I don’t want her coming after us. I’ve made arrangements to let her know once we are far enough away.” Shrugging off her grip, Exill hastened off to do the hundred and one tasks that still needed doing.

Keeping Tsarra in the dark had two desired effects. It ensured she remained here, and there would be no information for her to share with the Inquisition. It would buy valuable time to put distance between him and Deroch.

Tsarra had been insistent on following him to Virigo, and he was afraid she would flee with him given the opportunity. There was no doubt she would argue along the lines of, “I’m the only one who can heal you if you get hurt.” The more terrifying thought was that he would eventually agree.

‘But if she were to get hurt while we were fleeing…’ Exill abruptly shook the thought away, reminded of the arrow protruding from her shoulder.

Events related to his apprentice had been taken care of to an exacting degree. A request had been posted at the Guild to deliver a letter to Tsarra in a weeks’ time to bid her farewell, hoping it would provide some closure.

A letter was also written to Luna, set to be delivered around the same time. It took him an hour to write, but in the end, it only told her he was sorry, and asked her to look out for Tsarra.

‘Was that an appropriate request to make?’ he wondered, for he didn’t understand the hearts of women to know any better. The market bell rang twice, indicating it was close to the time for his appointment.

“I’m heading out and will be back in three hours.” He called out to the fuming Vampire as he left.

Outside in the sunny market square, the blue and yellow striped banners representing the Kingdom of Fayth still hung from up high. The festival was over but the decorations had yet to be taken down. For the third time in as many days, Exill tried to imprint this lively scenery into his mind. Ark had become his home, and this was exactly the way he wanted to remember it by.

He weaved through the Inner City towards the Arena, ignoring all the announcements of the duels underway. While crossing the plaza towards the Royal Library, something made him freeze when he recognised a familiar name on the betmakers billboard: Mattan vs Trey (5:4).

“It can’t be…” he scoffed, intrigued by the matchup.

As much as he wanted to investigate, time was running short. The hour of his appointment was drawing near, and it was something he had waited over two weeks to be processed and approved. Reluctantly, he turned away and walked briskly towards the ostentatious three storey building in the distance.

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He hurried up the stairs to the large entryway of the Royal Library, protected by stone gryphons on either side. Slightly out of breath, he greeted the matronly woman behind the counter.

“I have an appointment at half past two for access to the ‘Spirit Guide’.” He breathed.

“Witchdoctor Exill,” she examined his Card then continued on. “I’m sure you have been told this already, but the Spirit Guide is a national treasure. It is a great privilege to view the Tome and I hope you treat it with the utmost respect. The person who will accompany you to the room arrived a few minutes ago, he should be in front of Annex I.” Her face was stern while lecturing him.

Exill thanked the Librarian and walked through the French double doors separating the lobby from the Library. A quiet hush fell on him upon crossing the barrier of silence.

As he strode towards Annex I, there was a slight chill in the air. His heart dropped further upon spotting the red robed sleeve idly playing with an hourglass behind a large pillar.

‘Oh please no…’ he thought, while rounding the corner.

Inquisitor Deroch was leaning casually against the ivory pillar, a patient smile adorning his lined face. His frosty callous eyes pierced him and appeared to revel in his surprise.

“It is good to see you again Witchdoctor. Imagine my surprise when word reached me that a blessed individual wanted access to the Spirit Guide… I simply had to insist on this placement.” Deroch unlocked the door to Annex I.

Exill stood frozen at the doorway, unwilling to enter an enclosed space with the man devoted to hunting him down. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor traversed the small room, lighting an oil lantern at each corner.

Deroch withdrew another key from his sleeve and opened a rune inscribed adamantite safe embedded in the wall, carefully pulling out an aged tome that was placed on the lectern.

‘What is he doing here? I thought a member of the Royal Guard was supposed to enter the room with me!’ Exill was perplexed by the sudden development.

Cautiously, he stepped inside. It was small and sparsely furnished, the only furniture being a lectern at the centre of the room upon which was placed a blue and yellow striped leather-bound tome. He had expected the Spirit Guide to be more impressive, but it was the size of a standard book and about 300 pages long. Upon careful inspection, there were signs it had been bound several times as the discolouration of the parchment was irregular.

“I won’t ask what you seek to find within the tome. I wish you luck, the hour starts now.” The Inquisitor turned the hourglass and placed it on a special shelf built into the lectern. He then stood aside, those chilling eyes darting back and forth between Exill’s face and the page he was currently examining.

Sweat poured down Exill’s back while flipping through the tome with shaking fingers, unsettled by the Inquisitor’s piercing gaze. He quickly realised how futile it was, as there was no table of contents, the pages weren’t numbered, and no rhyme or reason to how the jobs were ordered.

‘They must have added fresh pages and rebound the book as new jobs were discovered…’ he thought bitterly.

Turning the pages deeper into the tome, the parchment grew increasingly yellow and brittle. To his surprise, a table of contents was found a quarter of the way in. ‘This must be the original tome!’ his excitement must have shown as the Inquisitor leaned in to take a closer look, nodding in understanding.

Exill ignored Deroch and scanned through the list, noting worthwhile jobs. He was already five minutes into the hour-long session, and he moved quickly to skim read and archive the jobs that caught his eye.

Exill snorted in frustration as some of the more useful entries, such as Bishop, asked the reader to request access to a separate job acquisition guide in the Royal Collection. Time passed in a frantic daze.

“Your hour is over.” The Inquisitor eventually said, reaching over to close the page Exill had been desperately scanning. Deroch didn’t try to show it, but he was perplexed by Exill’s actions. The young man had spent most of his time turning through pages of common jobs with an avid look of interest. It was difficult to say if he even read the pages because he flipped through them so fast. The Inquisitor carefully locked up the tome in the safe and extinguished all the lamps.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Deroch asked upon leaving the room, his face impassive as stone.

“No, I will have to try again next time.” Exill replied, displaying the appropriate amount of disappointment and humility.

It was a partial success; the hour-long session had answered a lot of the questions Exill had harboured about the job system. Yet, he had managed to scan only 55 pages of the 300-page tome, having overestimated his reading speed.

The Inquisitor merely nodded at this answer and approached the Librarian to turn over the keys. Exill took this opportunity to leave and slipped into the crowds outside. He had planned to stay at the library for another hour, but not with the Inquisitor breathing down his back.

There were more preparations to make.