A few days later, Kael sat in the tower of the northern part of the city, his nose buried deep in an old tome. Page after page, he flipped frantically, searching for any scrap of information on plagues, diseases, or anything tied to the history of the city of Crest. His frustration mounted with every passing minute.

Finally, he ripped off his enchanted monocle and slammed his hands on the table, his face twisted with fury.

“Fuck this book, fuck the plague, and fuck me!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the vast, quiet library.

Heads turned. A few of the scattered souls in the library shot him bewildered or scornful looks. Kael, now red-faced with embarrassment, awkwardly waved at them and smiled. He quickly slouched back down, flipping through the books he had checked out, his fingers a little less frantic but his mind still racing.

He needed answers. His party had already gathered some rudimentary knowledge about the plague and a few potential suspects, but they were still chasing shadows. No solid leads, no clear resolution in sight. And knowledge was Kael’s domain—his responsibility. He was supposed to be the one to bring clarity to the chaos.

But what if he failed?

The thought of letting the group down gnawed at him. The possibility of leading them into a trap or a dead-end made his stomach churn. It wasn’t that he needed much. Just a connection—something that made sense, a single thread to tie it all together.

Hours passed, and Kael’s eyes burned from the strain. He leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze drift to the towering shelves and ornate chandeliers that lined the ceiling. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to zone out, the library's quiet hum lulling him close to sleep.

That was until a soft voice broke through his daze.

“That’s quite the collection you’ve got there.”

Kael jolted upright, blinking rapidly as he turned to see a woman with large glasses, her face dotted with freckles, sitting beside him. She giggled softly, hiding her smile behind her sleeve.

“Oh, uh... yes. It is,” Kael stammered, still half-asleep.

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Her giggle only deepened. “Why are you in this place of many books?” she teased, her tone light but curious.

Kael blinked at her, still adjusting. “Research. Plagues,” he answered, almost mechanically. Then he cocked his head. “And you?”

She smiled wider, brushing her hand lightly against his. “Oddly enough, I’m researching a similar topic.”

Kael’s curiosity piqued, though he felt a strange undercurrent of discomfort. He watched as she produced a dark green and black book, the cover worn and strange. She licked her finger and began flipping through its pages, showing him as she went along.

“There are many forms of damage,” she began, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Most people think of plagues as natural, but a plague is simply something that distresses, that lingers and spreads. Almost any type of energy can act as a plague… yet,” she flipped through a few more pages and tapped the book, “the most common are radiance, necrosis, and poison.”

Kael furrowed his brow, leaning forward. “You’re right,” he muttered. “It’s likely necrotic energy. But...”

“But there’s still the question of the source,” she finished for him, her voice dropping into a near-whisper. “Is it a who or a what? That’s the big question.”

Kael rubbed his temples, exasperation creeping back in. “Exactly. That’s the question I’ve been trying to answer since we got here. I thought it would be obvious, but... nothing.”

She gave him another wide, slightly goofy grin, and suddenly produced a menacing black book from her robes. Kael’s stomach churned again as she flicked through its pages. It was clear this tome didn’t belong to any legitimate library, and definitely not to Crest’s.

“I believe the Sect of Blall may be behind it,” she said, her voice carrying an unsettling certainty.

“Sect? More like a cult,” Kael grumbled, narrowing his eyes. “Who are you, anyway?”

The woman hesitated, her hand hovering over a page. “I am the young lady—”

Kael didn’t wait for her to finish. With a snap of his fingers, her illusion shattered. The image of the freckled, bespectacled girl wavered and dissolved, revealing an old woman, her features twisted and unnatural.

“Sorry,” Kael said flatly, standing up and pushing his chair back against the wall. “Not interested in an old woman dabbling in... estranged things.”

As he turned to leave, her voice cut through the air, low and sharp.

“I know who you are.”

Kael didn’t break stride. “You don’t know shit,” he shot back over his shoulder.

“No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet dripping with malice. “I know what you are.”

Kael stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back toward her with a wicked look and took a seat at the table.

“Now then, let’s have a more transparent conversation,” she said with a smile.