The Naga archives were a labyrinth of twisting corridors and towering halls, their walls lined from floor to ceiling with countless scrolls, stone tablets, and serpent-bound tomes etched in ancient script. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged parchment, dust, and old incense — the accumulated breath of centuries. Every footstep echoed softly through the vast chambers, swallowed by the oppressive silence of forgotten history.
Veridian led Zym, Zola, and Ethel deeper into the archives, his movements slow but deliberate. His forked tongue flicked occasionally as his crimson eyes scanned the dim corridors ahead.
"These archives contain the memory of Oephidia itself," Veridian rasped, his voice carrying faintly through the hall. "Every war. Every ruler. Every prophecy. Every mistake our people survived long enough to regret."
Ethel glanced around impatiently. "Then somewhere in this mountain of dust there should be something useful." His feathers shifted irritably behind him. "Our kingdoms are balancing on the edge of war while we wander through a crypt."
Zym cast him a brief look. "And rushing blindly will only make us miss what matters."
Ethel exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing further.
Veridian eventually stopped before a towering obsidian slab carved with intricate depictions of ancient Naga deities — enormous serpentine beings coiled around stars and eclipsed moons. Strange runes glimmered faintly across the stone's surface.
"This section contains records sealed by the elder priesthood," Veridian explained quietly. "Knowledge considered too dangerous for common study."
Ethel raised a brow. "That usually means it is precisely where we should be looking."
Veridian ignored the remark. He pressed a clawed hand against the slab and began muttering an incantation in the ancient Naga tongue. The carvings pulsed with dim green light. A deep rumble followed as part of the wall slowly shifted inward, revealing a hidden chamber beyond.
Cold air spilled out immediately.
Zola felt the magic first.
The chamber practically vibrated with ancient energy, subtle but oppressive enough to raise the hairs along her arms. Glowing crystals embedded within the walls cast pale blue light over shelves overflowing with brittle scrolls and fractured stone records.
Even Zym's expression hardened slightly.
"These wards are still active," he murmured.
Veridian nodded once. "Some of the magic stored here predates modern Oephidia."
They stepped inside carefully.
Zola moved toward one of the shelves, her fingertips brushing lightly across faded inscriptions. "There are thousands of records here," she said quietly. "Searching all of them could take days."
"Which we do not have," Ethel muttered.
He began pacing between the shelves, agitation bleeding into his movements.
"Every moment we waste increases the chance of open conflict. My king already believes the Nagas are hiding something."
"And after tonight," Veridian said grimly, "your king may not be entirely wrong."
That earned a sharp look from Ethel.
Zym stepped between them before another argument could form. "Focus," he said calmly. "The Eye has likely been targeted before. We begin there."
Veridian gave a slow nod and began searching through the shelves with practiced familiarity. His clawed fingers moved carefully across ancient markings until he finally paused before a weathered scroll sealed with black wax.
His expression darkened slightly.
"I believe this is what we need."
He carefully removed the scroll and placed it upon a nearby stone table.
"The last major investigation concerning the Eye," Veridian explained. "Recorded nearly four centuries ago."
Zola unfurled the scroll delicately. The parchment crackled softly beneath her fingers.
Ancient serpentine script flowed across the page in faded silver ink.
Her eyes moved quickly across the opening passages before slowing.
"This is not merely an investigation record," she murmured. "It contains detailed accounts of prior theft attempts."
Ethel folded his arms. "And?"
Zola continued reading.
"Several groups attempted to steal the Eye over the centuries. Most failed before even reaching the sanctum." Her brow furrowed slightly. "But one entry stands apart."
Veridian nodded grimly. "The illusionist."
"The illusionist?" Zym repeated.
Zola scanned further down the scroll. "According to the archives, the last known perpetrator was an unidentified magic user capable of bypassing layered wards using advanced illusion techniques. The records describe him as possessing mastery over perception and concealment."
Ethel frowned immediately. "Illusion magic strong enough to fool Naga wards?"
"That is no ordinary mage," Zym said quietly.
"No," Veridian agreed. "Which is why suspicion eventually fell upon the Najas."
Ethel looked toward him sharply. "The faction you mentioned earlier."
Veridian inclined his head.
"The Najas are Nagas by blood, but culturally distinct. Many possess five-headed cobra forms and are known for specializing in illusionary arts, hypnosis, and deception magic."
"Convenient," Ethel muttered.
Veridian's eyes narrowed faintly. "You asked for possibilities. I am giving them."
Zola continued examining the scroll.
"The illusionist ultimately failed," she said. "The Eye resisted removal."
"That is the important part," Veridian said quietly.
Zym looked toward him. "Meaning?"
Veridian hesitated briefly before answering.
"The Eye of Naga is not merely a sacred jewel. It is bound to ancient protections — protections tied to the relic itself."
Zola's expression tightened as she continued reading.
"The records describe the Eye as a living conduit," she said softly. "A fragment of the First Serpent's sight."
Even Ethel's impatience faded slightly at that.
"What exactly does it do?" he asked.
Zola looked back toward the text.
"It grants heightened perception," she explained. "The wielder can see through illusions, shape-shifting, glamour magic, and concealment spells."
Zym's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"That alone would make it priceless."
"There is more," Zola added.
The chamber grew quieter.
"The Eye can perceive possible futures."
Ethel blinked once. "Possible futures?"
"Fragments," Zola clarified. "Not certainties. The records repeatedly warn that prolonged exposure drove several wielders into paranoia. They became obsessed with preventing futures that never occurred."
Veridian lowered his gaze slightly. "Some ancient rulers lost themselves completely."
Ethel let out a low whistle. "So the artifact is half prophecy stone and half curse."
"It is sacred," Veridian corrected sharply.
"And dangerous," Zym added calmly.
No one argued with that.
Zola continued reading further.
"The Eye also amplifies certain forms of magic," she said slowly. "Primarily perception-based magic… illusion magic… and mental influence."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
"The Najas," Zym murmured.
Veridian nodded grimly. "A sufficiently powerful Naja wielding the Eye could manipulate perception on a terrifying scale."
Ethel's expression darkened immediately. "Enough to frame the Garudas."
"Enough to deceive entire armies," Zola added quietly.
The implications settled heavily over all of them.
A relic capable of concealing truth itself.
A planted feather.
No magical traces.
Untouched wards.
Suddenly the theft no longer seemed impossible.
It seemed engineered.
Zym folded his arms thoughtfully. "What became of the illusionist?"
Veridian's expression shifted uneasily.
"The records become incomplete after the failed attempt," he admitted. "Sections regarding the investigation were later removed from the archives."
Ethel stared at him incredulously. "Removed?"
"Yes."
"By whom?"
"We never discovered that."
Zym's jaw tightened slightly.
Someone had interfered with the records centuries ago.
Someone with enough authority to access restricted archives.
Before anyone could speak further, Ethel suddenly stiffened.
A sharp inhale escaped him.
Then he staggered violently backward.
Zola turned instantly. "Ethel?"
His hand clutched at his throat.
For a split second confusion flashed across his face — then pain overtook it completely.
He collapsed against one of the shelves, sending brittle scrolls scattering across the floor.
"Ethel!" Zym lunged forward.
The Garuda envoy hit the ground hard, gasping for air as dark veins rapidly spread beneath the skin near his shoulder.
Zola dropped beside him immediately, golden healing light already forming around her hands.
"He's been poisoned," she said sharply.
A metallic scent lingered faintly in the air.
Naga venom.
Zym's head snapped upward instantly.
Movement flickered at the far end of the chamber.
A shadow slipping between the shelves.
Clawed fingers.
A scaled tail disappearing into darkness.
"There!" Zym barked.
Zola surged after the figure immediately, blue light flaring around her as she raced through the narrow aisles.
But the assassin was fast.
Too fast.
By the time she reached the corridor beyond, the figure had vanished completely into the maze-like depths of the archives.
Only the faint rasp of scales against stone echoed briefly in the darkness before disappearing altogether.
Zola stopped, breathing hard, frustration tightening her expression.
No face.
No identifiable markings.
Nothing except the lingering scent of venom.
She returned quickly to the chamber.
Ethel's breathing had worsened.
Dark venom spread aggressively through the veins around his neck and shoulder while Zym attempted to stabilize him with healing magic.
"This dose is lethal," Zola said grimly after examining the wound. "Far beyond what would normally be required."
Veridian looked genuinely shaken now. "Impossible… No Naga would dare attack someone inside the sacred archives."
"The evidence says otherwise," Zym replied coldly.
Veridian stepped back uneasily. "Perhaps a guard panicked—"
"A panicked guard does not administer enough venom to kill a Garuda envoy," Zym snapped. "Especially one under diplomatic protection."
Ethel grimaced in pain, struggling to remain conscious.
"If King Eothis hears about this…" he rasped weakly.
"There will be war," Zola finished quietly.
Silence followed.
The reality of it settled heavily over the chamber.
Someone had not only stolen the Eye.
They had now attempted to murder a Garuda envoy inside the heart of Oephidia itself.
Veridian swallowed hard, his forked tongue flicking anxiously as his gaze darted between Ethel's worsening condition and the dark corridor where the assassin had vanished.
"We need the antidote," Zola said sharply. "Immediately."
"Yes… yes, of course." Veridian straightened quickly, though unease still clouded his expression. "The remedies are kept deeper within the restricted archives."
Ethel let out a strained laugh through gritted teeth. "Restricted," he muttered weakly. "Of course they are."
Zym slid one arm beneath Ethel's shoulder, helping him remain upright as the venom continued creeping through his veins. The Garuda's skin had already grown unnaturally pale beneath his golden markings.
"Can you walk?" Zym asked.
"I can stand," Ethel hissed. "That is enough."
"It will have to be."
Veridian moved quickly now, leading them through another series of narrow corridors hidden behind the archive chamber. The deeper they travelled, the colder the air became. Ancient wards glowed faintly along the walls, reacting to their presence with dull pulses of green light.
Zym remained alert the entire time.
His eyes constantly scanned the shadows ahead.
The assassin had escaped too cleanly.
No hesitation.
No panic.
Whoever attacked Ethel had known the archives well enough to navigate them blind.
That thought bothered him more than the attack itself.
"This section," Veridian said quietly as they descended a spiraling staircase, "is accessible only to the elder archivists and members of the royal bloodline."
Ethel coughed harshly. "Which narrows your list of suspects considerably."
Veridian did not answer.
They finally entered a circular chamber lined with shelves of crystal vials, preserved herbs, and ancient medicinal texts. The scent here was sharper — bitter roots, oils, and venom compounds carefully stored behind enchantments.
Zola immediately began scanning the shelves.
"What venom was used?" she asked without looking back.
Veridian hesitated.
"That… I do not know."
Zym looked toward him sharply. "You cannot identify venom from your own people?"
"There are hundreds of venom strains," Veridian replied quickly. "Some natural. Some altered through alchemy or ritual magic."
Zola knelt beside Ethel again, examining the wound more carefully. The puncture marks near his shoulder had blackened noticeably.
"No," she murmured. "This was refined."
Her golden light intensified around the wound as she focused.
"The venom was modified to bypass Garuda resistance."
That made even Veridian visibly recoil.
"Modified?" he repeated.
Zola nodded grimly. "Someone engineered this specifically for Garudas."
Ethel's expression darkened despite the pain twisting across his face. "Then this was never random."
"No," Zym agreed quietly. "It was planned."
The room fell silent again.
Veridian moved toward one of the locked cabinets near the far wall and pressed his palm against the seal. Ancient runes flickered briefly before fading.
Inside rested several crystal vials containing liquids of different colors.
He reached carefully for a silver vial filled with shimmering pale blue fluid.
"This should neutralize most high-grade venoms," he said.
"Should?" Ethel growled weakly.
"It is the strongest antidote we possess."
Zola took the vial from him immediately and inspected the contents carefully. Ancient healing sigils shimmered faintly within the liquid itself.
"This is genuine," she confirmed.
Without wasting another second, she uncorked the vial.
Zym steadied Ethel as Zola carefully tilted the antidote against his lips.
"Drink."
Ethel swallowed reluctantly, nearly choking midway through before forcing the rest down.
For several long seconds, nothing happened.
Then suddenly his body tensed violently.
Dark veins pulsed sharply beneath his skin before beginning — slowly — to recede.
Ethel doubled over coughing hard, one hand pressed against the floor as his breathing gradually stabilized.
Zola exhaled softly in relief.
"The venom is breaking down."
Zym finally released a breath of tension he had been holding since the attack.
But the relief did not last long.
Ethel slowly lifted his head, fury burning behind his eyes now stronger than the poison itself.
"I was poisoned," he said hoarsely, staring directly at Veridian. "Inside your sacred archives."
Veridian lowered his gaze. "I know."
"No," Ethel snapped. "I do not think you do."
The Garuda envoy forced himself upright despite obvious pain.
"You told us the archives were protected. Restricted. Secure." His voice hardened with every word. "Yet someone slipped through your halls, attacked a diplomatic envoy, and vanished without resistance."
Zym watched Veridian carefully.
For the first time since entering the archives, the old Naga genuinely seemed shaken.
"This should not have happened," Veridian admitted quietly.
"But it did," Ethel replied coldly.
Zola rose slowly to her feet. "The assassin knew exactly where we would be."
Nobody answered immediately.
Because they all understood what that implied.
"This was not coincidence," Zym said at last. "Someone anticipated our investigation."
Veridian's expression tightened.
"You believe someone within the palace informed them?"
"I believe," Zym replied carefully, "that whoever stole the Eye has influence far deeper than we assumed."
Ethel wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
"The feather," he muttered. "The theft. The poisoned venom specifically designed for Garudas." His jaw tightened. "Every part of this points toward provoking war."
"And whoever is orchestrating it," Zola added quietly, "understands both Naga and Garuda politics intimately."
A heavy silence settled over the chamber once more.
Then Zym's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The records," he said suddenly.
Veridian frowned faintly. "What about them?"
"The missing sections concerning the illusionist." Zym's voice sharpened. "Who removed them?"
"We never discovered that."
"But someone had authority to access restricted archive material centuries ago," Zym pressed. "Which means this conspiracy may not be recent at all."
Realization slowly crept across Zola's face.
"You think the current theft is connected to the older attempt."
"I think," Zym said grimly, "someone may have been working toward this for generations."
Even Ethel went silent at that.
The possibility chilled the room more than the ancient wards ever could.
Because if Zym was right…
Then the theft of the Eye was not simply an isolated act.
It was the final stage of a plan centuries in the making.