Evening...
Ian made his way toward the Lunar Repository, the museum where Eryndor worked. The journey along the Elysian Line was smooth and efficient; by now, he had gotten used to it.
The museum stood apart from the rest of the city, its design older and more imposing than the surrounding buildings. Massive stone pillars framed the entrance, carved with ancient symbols that faintly glowed under the city lights. Through the large display windows, Ian caught glimpses of artifacts, glowing relics floating in containment fields, shifting holographic projections telling stories of the past, and mechanical constructs recovered from ruins lost to time.
Eryndor straightened the moment he saw Ian approaching. "Lord Ian, I..." He caught himself, clearing his throat. "I mean, Ian. Thanks for coming."
Ian gave a small wave. "Yeah, yeah. No need for all that." His gaze shifted toward the museum entrance. "Let's get this over with."
Eryndor nodded quickly and gestured for Ian to follow him inside. The museum's halls stretched around them, lined with carefully preserved relics, each piece whispering fragments of history. But Ian wasn't here for a tour. They moved straight to Eryndor's office, a space cluttered with notes, diagrams, and various analysis tools.
Ian retrieved a small artifact from his storage bracelet, a dark-metal relic, its engravings faintly pulsing with an inner glow. He had retrieved it from the ruins of Lylva, specifically from within the creature's remains. It had helped him inherit knowledge from the Cerok, the ancient inhabitants of this planet. Now that he had extracted everything useful from it, he had no problem lending it to Eryndor; temporarily, of course.
Eryndor's eyes widened the moment he saw it. "This… This is incredible." He didn't waste a second, grabbing his instruments and running scans. His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted the settings, analyzing the artifact's structure, composition, and energy signature.
Ian leaned back in his chair. "So? Will it work?"
Eryndor barely looked up, still focused on the readings. "Definitely. This is far beyond what I was supposed to present." He hesitated before glancing at Ian. "Are you sure you want to part with something like this? Even temporarily?"
Ian waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just lending it to you. Should be enough to solve your problem."
Eryndor exhaled, clearly relieved. "I'll prepare a temporary leasing agreement. You'll be compensated, of course. Actually…" He tapped his chin, thinking. "If I can get approval from my supervisor, I might be able to push for a better deal for you."
Ian shook his head. "You don't have to go out of your way for that. Just do your thing."
Eryndor felt a deep sense of gratitude. Honestly, he hadn't known what to expect when Ian placed that control mark on him. At the time, he had feared the worst, being worked to death, used as a disposable pawn, or turned into some experiment. It would be a lie to say he hadn't been bitter about it.
But months had passed, and nothing had really happened. Ian hadn't forced him to do anything beyond his usual work, hadn't burdened him with impossible demands, and now… he was even helping him.
It wasn't that Eryndor had stopped worrying about being under Ian's control; far from it. But at least now, he could see a glimpse of something better. He wasn't an ambitious man. He had no grand aspirations for power or influence. All he had ever wanted was to study archaeology, to uncover history without being dragged into anything beyond his control.
That obsession was what had led him down this path in the first place. His reckless pursuit of knowledge had landed him in the hands of the Quiet Testament. By the time he realized the price of their so-called "help," it had been too late to escape.
They talked a little more, going over the details of the agreement. Eryndor assured Ian that he would finalize the paperwork soon and try to negotiate better compensation on his behalf. Ian didn't particularly care about the money, but he let Eryndor do as he pleased.
After signing the preliminary leasing agreement, Ian left the artifact in Eryndor's care. With the control mark still in place, there was no need to worry about anything going wrong.
With that done and nothing else demanding his attention, Ian decided to wander around the museum for a bit. He passed through the dimly lit halls, glancing at various exhibits, artifacts from different eras, remnants of lost civilizations, fragments of history that had long since faded from memory.
Eventually, satisfied with his brief exploration, he made his way back to his apartment.
The next day, Eryndor reached out to Ian, mentioning that a senior figure from the Lunar Repository wanted to meet him and asking if he was available.
Ian considered it for a moment. Making connections could be useful, and there was always a chance something worthwhile might come from it. People involved in museums typically fell into two categories, either passionate enthusiasts like Eryndor or wealthy individuals who saw it as a prestigious hobby. The higher-ups were more likely to be the latter.
He agreed. "I've got some time this evening. I'll be there."
Eryndor sounded relieved. "Great. That works."
After finishing his usual studies and work at the Academy, Ian made his way back to the museum. Just like yesterday, Eryndor was waiting outside.
Eryndor greeted him with a quick nod. "Thanks for coming. The meeting is set up inside. The Director, is eager to speak with you."
Ian shrugged. "No problem."
Eryndor knocked the door.
A smooth, commanding voice came from inside. "Come in."
Eryndor pushed open the door, motioning Ian inside.
Inside, an elven woman sat behind a polished wooden desk, radiating effortless confidence. Her long, deep blue hair cascaded in a meticulously arranged style, a few loose strands accentuating her sharp, captivating features. A faint, intricate marking adorned her forehead, elegant yet enigmatic, its delicate curves hinting at something deeper than mere decoration. Her deep-blue attire hugged her figure with tailored precision, refined yet unapologetically enticing. A pair of slender, gem-inlaid earrings dangled just enough to catch the light, drawing subtle attention to the graceful curve of her neck.
"Have a seat," she said smoothly, gesturing toward the chair across from her.
"You must be Ian," she said, her voice smooth yet commanding. "I am Thessalia Qinkalyn, the director of this museum."
Ian met her gaze evenly, offering a small nod. "Nice to meet you."
She shifted her attention briefly. "Eryndor, you can also sit, you know."
Eryndor shook his head, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm comfortable standing, Director." His tone was polite, but the underlying formality made it clear, this was a matter of respect.
Thessalia didn't mind, turning back to Ian with a curious glint in her eyes.
Thessalia's lips curved slightly as she studied Ian. "First, let me thank you for providing such remarkable artifact for the exhibit. It's an extraordinary piece… " She tapped her fingers lightly against the desk, her gaze lingering on him. "Still, I must admit, I wasn't expecting you to be human."
Ian just looked at her silently.
Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought before she spoke again. "Tell me, how are you related to Domnall Crovan?"
Ian blinked. "Domnall Crovan…?" The name seemed familiar.
Thessalia tilted her head, watching his reaction carefully. Then, with a soft chuckle, she leaned back. "Ah, my apologies. I made an assumption." She gestured toward the side table. "Please, have some tea. I assure you, it's the finest selection we have."
A faint hum of curiosity remained in her expression as a servant poured the tea, the rich aroma filling the space. "You must understand, your presence here is… unusual. I couldn't help but wonder."
Ian took a measured sip of the tea, letting the warmth settle. He was used to the curiosity by now so it didn't bother him.
Thessalia took a slow sip of her tea before setting the cup down with a quiet clink. Her gaze lingered on Ian, thoughtful but not intrusive. "If you don't mind," she said smoothly, "could you tell me a little more about yourself?"
Ian didn't hesitate. "I'm from Lylva," he said, placing his cup back onto the saucer. "Currently studying Arcane Engineering at Rulmose."
Thessalia's expression shifted, a flicker of interest crossing her face. "Ah, Rulmose. A fine institution. My nephew is studying there as well, Psionics, though I sometimes wonder if he chose it for the challenge or the prestige." A hint of amusement laced her voice.
Ian raised a brow. "Psionics?"
She nodded, swirling her tea absently. "It requires a certain kind of mind. He's talented, but I suspect he enjoys proving himself more than the discipline itself." She exhaled, then gestured toward Ian. "Arcane Engineering, though… Now that is a field with tangible impact. You create things, build foundations for the future."
Ian smirked. "I just like to build things."
Thessalia let out a soft chuckle, her nails tapping against the fine porcelain of her cup. "A simple answer, but I doubt you're a simple man." She studied him for a moment, then took another sip. "There's a certain beauty in creation, wouldn't you say? But even more so in what history leaves behind. Tell me, Ian, do you have an interest in antiquities, or was this just a fortunate accident?"
Ian shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm a historian, but I do have an interest in lost knowledge. There's value in understanding what came before."
Thessalia's lips curled into an approving smile. "A wise mindset. The past has a habit of repeating itself, after all."
She placed her cup down with a delicate clink, her demeanor shifting ever so slightly. "Now, returning to the topic at hand..." Her voice remained smooth, but there was something heavier beneath it. "Once again, I am extremely grateful for your generosity. However, I must ask, would you be willing to part with it permanently?" She tilted her head slightly, her piercing gaze locking onto his. "Name your price.
The air in the room seemed to tighten, a subtle but undeniable pressure settling over them. Eryndor stiffened, his forehead glistening with sweat, but Ian remained unfazed. He met Thessalia's gaze directly, his tone calm yet firm. "I appreciate the offer," he said evenly, "but I'm not looking to sell."
For a brief moment, the pressure intensified, but then, as if it had never been there, it vanished. Thessalia's expression didn't falter. Instead, she smiled sweetly, as if thoroughly entertained. "That's unfortunate," she mused, resting her chin against her fingers. "You see, I've been to those ruins myself. Fascinating place, truly. But I wasn't able to retrieve anything of real significance. What you've provided is quite the treasure." She sighed, shaking her head lightly. "Perhaps I'm being greedy."
She leaned back, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup. "If you ever change your mind, you're always welcome to reach out. Someone at the museum will ensure the offer remains open."
Ian gave a slight nod. "I'll keep that in mind."
Thessalia's eyes glimmered with something unreadable before she reached into a drawer and retrieved a finely crafted card, sliding it across the desk toward him. "Regardless, your contribution deserves proper recognition. As a token of appreciation, I'd like to extend an invitation, VIP access to our upcoming exhibition. It's a rather exclusive event, and I imagine you'll find it… interesting."
Ian picked up the card, glancing at it before slipping it into his pocket. "Appreciate it."
Thessalia's smile lingered. "Of course. Consider it an acknowledgment of your generosity."
A bit more conversation followed, mostly pleasantries, before Ian eventually rose to take his leave.