Veil of the Forgotten: Chapter 03: Shadows Beneath the Stone

 After parting ways with the old man, Ashwat made his way to the city quarters, urgency driving every step. His mind was clouded with exhaustion, but the memory of what he had seen outside the mine left no room for rest. He headed straight for the artisan's quarter, knowing Uvaan often frequented the scribes and traders there. By chance—or fate—they crossed paths in a narrow street just beyond the square.

Uvaan was visibly surprised by Ashwat's sudden appearance. The two had not spoken in weeks, and it wasn't like Ashwat to travel without cause, much less show up unannounced. Without pressing him in public, Uvaan guided him toward a nearby inn.

They settled into a secluded booth, the air heavy with the scent of roasted meat and old parchment. Over a shared meal—the first proper one Ashwat had had in days—he finally began to speak. His voice was hushed, almost reverent, as he recounted the events outside the mine. He spoke of the monstrous rider, cloaked in flame, and the screams that had followed it. Uvaan listened without interruption, his brow furrowed, absorbing each word with the gravity it demanded.

Ashwat's tale was troubling, not only for its implications but for the clear distress it had left upon him. When the meal was done, Uvaan paid the innkeeper and quietly booked a room for his friend in the upper floor of the city's inn. Ashwat, despite his protests, was in desperate need of sleep. Uvaan promised to begin researching immediately and would return before dusk with whatever he could find.

While Ashwat rested, Uvaan made his way across the city to the Grand Library of Rhushan, a towering structure nestled at the edge of the central court. It was an ancient institution, built during the golden age of the Mahava dynasty, and still maintained under the rule of the Haznek. If there were answers to be found about the rider Ashwat had seen, they would be buried somewhere within the labyrinthine records housed there.

Hours passed as Uvaan scoured scrolls, pored through ledgers, and deciphered crumbling texts.. The archives on known raiders yielded no mention of a creature like the one Ashwat had described—no infernal horseman, no shadow-wrapped figure with eyes like molten iron. Frustrated but undeterred, Uvaan returned to the inn as night fell.

Ashwat was awake, seated by the window and staring out into the city streets with a haunted expression. He turned as Uvaan entered, hopeful, but his eyes fell as he read the truth in his friend's face.

"There's nothing," Uvaan admitted. "Not in the surface records, at least. I searched through everything I could access."

They spoke at length in the quiet of the inn room. The candlelight flickered as they traded thoughts, theories, and fragments of half-remembered lore. They discussed the absence of records and the eerie nature of the creature Ashwat had seen. Uvaan considered the possibility that it might not be from this world—or perhaps from a forgotten era buried too deep in history to be part of common knowledge.

Ashwat's concern deepened as their conversation progressed. The mine was not far from the town, and whatever that creature was, it posed a serious threat to the people living nearby. If it was part of a larger force, or even just the harbinger of something worse, lives were at risk. The men outside might already be dead, consumed by whatever darkness haunted that mine. But others—innocents—might follow if nothing was done.

Then, Uvaan hesitated, as though debating whether to speak further. "There's one more place," he said finally, his voice low. "A section beneath the library. It's sealed. Restricted."

Ashwat leaned forward. "Why?"

"It holds records from before the Mahava dynasty. Pre-empire knowledge. Forbidden for a reason. After the Haznek took power, access was sealed completely. Not even royal scribes are permitted down there anymore. Only a decree from the crown could open it—but we both know that's not an option now."

Ashwat considered this. The Haznek were a strange faction—effective rulers, perhaps, but shrouded in mystery. Since their rise, the quality of life in the city had improved for many, but the cost of that order was a veil of secrecy that hung over every decision they made. Few knew where they had come from, and fewer still knew what they truly wanted.

"Why is it forbidden?" Ashwat asked.

"No one really knows," Uvaan replied. "Some say it's because the knowledge down there is dangerous—old magic, war records, truths that could unravel what little peace remains. Others think it's just superstition. Either way, it's sealed. I've only seen the entrance once. Steelbound, locked with runes no one dares tamper with."

For a while, silence filled the room again, broken only by the wind brushing against the windowpane. But Ashwat's resolve had begun to harden.

"We don't have time to wait for permission," he said at last. "If there's even a chance that something in those records can explain what I saw, I need to find it. We can't afford another ambush. More people will die."

Uvaan frowned. "You're talking about breaking into the restricted vaults of the Grand Library. That's not just illegal—it's suicide."

Ashwat's gaze did not waver. "I've seen what waits out there. If even a fragment of it reaches this city, we'll wish we'd done more."

Despite his apprehension, Uvaan could see the truth in his friend's eyes. This wasn't recklessness. It was desperation—the kind born from knowing something no one else believed, and being powerless to stop it. And in that moment, Uvaan knew he would help him. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because it was the only thing they could do.

Together, they began to plan.