Vale pushed himself upright, boots grinding softly against the jagged scales beneath his feet. The surface of the Azure Leviathan was uneven and sharp, like a mountain of living stone, yet it barely reacted to his movement. Instead, the massive creature released a deep, rumbling sigh, one that resonated through its entire body and traveled up Vale's legs like distant thunder.
Drago glanced down at the beast, one brow raised.
"Oh, don't overreact," he said dryly, reaching down to poke the Leviathan between two overlapping plates. "You need exercise once in a while." A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "You've grown quite fat in my absence, you know. You're lucky Ivor allows you to eat more than I do."
The Leviathan responded by rolling a colossal eye, its iris shifting lazily before the lid slid shut again, as though it had decided the conversation was beneath it. Its breathing slowed, deep and steady, the sound more like waves breaking against cliffs than the breath of a living creature.
Vale stared at the exchange, stunned. After a moment, he cautiously raised a hand.
"Uh… sorry," he said, glancing between Drago and the Leviathan, "but is it really useful to potentially anger something that big?"
Drago turned toward him calmly as the Leviathan settled further, clearly unbothered.
"You do know I'm Levi's rider, right?" Drago said evenly.
Vale froze.
His eyes drifted downward to the gargantuan creature, then snapped back up to Drago.
'He has this thing as his tamed beast?'
The realization hit him almost like a physical blow. Vale had assumed the Leviathan was a powerful guardian, or perhaps an ancient creature granting them passage out of some inscrutable whim. The idea that it was bound, that someone could command something so vast, made his chest tighten.
Vale didn't know much about tamed beasts. In truth, this was the first he had ever seen. But even without experience, he understood one thing clearly: controlling a creature like this was not merely rare, it was borderline mythical.
Slowly, he exhaled and rested a hand on his waist. "I did not…" He hesitated, then added with a strained attempt at humor, "So what, does that mean the First Monarch is also your tamed beast now?"
Drago stared at him.
The silence stretched just a moment too long.
Vale's eyes widened. "The First Monarch isn't, right?" he asked quickly, a nervous edge creeping into his voice.
Drago let out a deep, weary sigh. "No," he replied. "Not anymore, at least."
Vale's eyes widened further, his mind already racing, but before he could form another question, the water around them shifted unnaturally.
The waves rolled inward, then stilled, as if something massive was moving beneath the surface.
Vale turned sharply just as a stone road began to rise from the sea. Dark gray slabs, ancient, worn, and soaked, emerged slowly, water cascading off their sides as they locked into place. The path stretched forward, broad and solid, leading away from the Leviathan and toward the cavern entrance beneath the tower.
Vale clenched his teeth and turned back toward Drago, ready to speak, but Drago had already raised a hand, palm outward, halting him mid-thought.
"No more questions," Drago said firmly. "First, we handle your stay."
Vale hesitated. Every instinct urged him to keep pressing, to unravel the truths piling up faster than he could process them. But slowly, against his will, he forced his curiosity down. He released a quiet sigh, crossing his arms, and glanced toward Eskar.
The crimson-haired boy still held the egg tightly against his chest, his posture protective, almost reverent.
"Aren't you curious?" Vale asked softly.
Eskar opened his eyes and stood, the faint heat radiating from his arms fading as his power receded. He walked past Vale with a small, calm smile.
"Not really," he replied lightly. "Curiosity did kill the cat, after all."
Vale rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
Together, they stepped off the Leviathan's back and onto the slick stone path. Water pooled around their boots, reflecting the dim light spilling from the cavern ahead.
Vale paused, then turned back.
He crouched and gently placed a hand against the Leviathan's scales. "Thanks for escorting us," he said, offering an awkward smile.
One massive eye cracked open, regarding him silently. The eye alone was nearly as large as Vale's entire body, its gaze unsettling in its stillness. After a long moment, the creature closed it again and released a soft breath that ruffled Vale's hair.
Vale straightened and turned away, following Drago and Eskar forward.
As they walked, his gaze drifted downward.
'My blade…'
Eskar still carried Vale's onyx weapon.
Vale glanced at his empty sheath and sighed, closing his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, Eskar had stopped.
One arm was extended toward him.
In his hand rested the onyx blade.
"Here," Eskar said calmly. "I don't need it anymore."
Vale blinked, surprised. He took the weapon slowly, staring at Eskar. "Are you sure?"
Eskar shrugged, uncertain. "I think so. It's your weapon. And we're out of the desert now. I doubt I'll need it when there are probably other weapons around."
Vale exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging slightly. "You know you could've just given it back once we're on Earth again, right?"
Eskar was silent.
They entered a stone hallway that curved upward into a circular staircase. The walls were ancient and rough, cold beneath the faint torchlight that flickered along the ascent.
After a moment, Eskar glanced sideways. "What if we never return?"
Vale stopped.
His eyes widened, then slowly narrowed.
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
Eskar turned back toward the stairs and continued climbing. "Never mind."
Vale watched him for a long moment, then chose not to push further. He let out a low sigh, trailing his fingers along the rough stone wall as they ascended.
'Why would he think we might never return?'
The thought lingered, heavy and unresolved, as the staircase spiraled ever upward.
The stairs continued upward, spiraling endlessly as torchlight guided their way. Rows of iron sconces lined the walls, their flames burning a steady orange, casting long, wavering shadows across the enclosed stone hall. The light flickered against the rock, revealing grooves and scars carved by time itself.
Vale ran his fingers along the wall as they walked.
The stone was rough beneath his touch, uneven, cold, but strangely comforting. After nearly two months trapped in the merciless desert, the solid presence of stone felt grounding, almost reassuring. No shifting sand. No endless horizon. Just something real beneath his hands.
He let out a low sigh as they continued upward. Minutes passed, maybe more. Time had grown difficult to measure lately, and his legs were beginning to ache from the constant climb. Each step felt heavier than the last, his muscles protesting in dull, persistent pulses.
Finally, the staircase ended.
The spiraling steps gave way to a short, straight path. It wasn't wide, nor particularly long, but it felt deliberate, like a corridor meant to prepare those who walked it.
At its end stood a massive door.
It towered over them, easily five meters tall and three meters wide, carved from the same dark stone as the ocean platform and the staircase below. The surface was smooth in places, jagged in others, etched with faint markings that looked less like decoration and more like something functional, runes or sigils worn down by centuries of use.
Vale tilted his head, studying it.
"It doesn't look very… welcoming," he muttered.
Drago approached the door, his steps unhurried. But after a few paces, he suddenly stopped.
As if remembering something important, he turned back toward Vale and Eskar. For a moment, he rummaged through the folds of his dark cloak, fingers searching with practiced familiarity. Finally, he withdrew two small objects and tossed one toward each of them.
Both caught their badges easily, though Vale had to reach a little higher than Eskar.
Vale looked down at the object resting in his palm.
It was a badge, metallic, cool to the touch, engraved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift slightly when the torchlight hit them. At its center was an unfamiliar emblem, sharp and deliberate.
"What are these?" Vale asked.
Drago sighed, already turning back toward the door. "Keep them on you at all times," he said. "They're proof that you belong to the Royal Library. Think of them as a passport, or more accurately, the insignia of an exceptionally important organization."
Vale raised an eyebrow. "The Royal Library is that important?" He glanced back at the door. "Isn't it just a library?"
Drago paused.
For a moment, he seemed almost amused.
"Well," he said slowly, "I suppose the name is deceiving."
He faced the door once more. "I'll explain everything after we've entered. After that, you can ask Ivor any questions you like. I'll be busy."
Before Vale could respond, the stone door began to move.
There was no sound of gears or grinding stone. No visible mechanism. The door simply parted, as if responding to Drago's presence alone.
Light poured out.
Not the harsh glare of sunlight, but something brighter, purer. A warm, luminous glow flooded the corridor, forcing Vale to squint as he raised an arm instinctively to shield his eyes.
Slowly, he lowered it.
His breath caught.
Beyond the doorway stretched an enormous, circular chamber, vast beyond comprehension. Towering shelves rose endlessly upward, curving along the walls like the inside of a colossal spire. Countless books filled them, their spines glowing faintly with enchantments. Between the shelves floated artifacts suspended in midair, encased in translucent barriers, humming softly with contained power.
Walkways spiraled through the space, bridges connecting different levels, while soft, ambient light emanated from no visible source at all. The air itself seemed alive with knowledge.
Vale stared, speechless.
"…Damn," he finally breathed. "Talk about a library."