WL – Episode 6: "The City of Stone" (Part 2)

Then—it happened.

A light tug.

Barely noticeable—except Aurora had been waiting for it.

The hand brushed past her waist—aiming for the satchel looped over her shoulder.

Too slow.

Aurora snatched the wrist mid-motion, gripping it tight.

The figure yelped.

Finn blinked.

Then—grinned.

FINN (grinning, triumphant)

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Aurora, eyes sharp, turned her head slightly—finally seeing who had been following them.

And the pickpocket—a small, sharp-eyed wisp of a creature—froze in place.

---

The pickpocket froze mid-motion, his small frame tense under Aurora’s grip.

Wide, sharp eyes darted between them—weighing options, calculating chances.

Then—

PICKPOCKET (nervous but bold, hands raised)

"Alright, alright! No need for all that. Let’s just—let’s just take a breath here."

Aurora didn’t let go.

AURORA (calm, unimpressed)

"You were just reaching for my bag."

The pickpocket gasped, offended.

PICKPOCKET (mock scandalized)

"What? Me? I'm a simple, law-abiding citizen."

Finn crossed his arms, grinning.

FINN (mock serious, shaking his head)

"You hate to see such false accusations."

The pickpocket pointed dramatically at Finn.

PICKPOCKET (nodding quickly)

"Exactly! This guy gets it!"

Aurora tightened her grip slightly.

AURORA (deadpan, flat)

"Try again."

The pickpocket winced.

Then— he sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders.

PICKPOCKET (grumbling, defeated)

"Okay, maybe I was."

Finn finally grinned, crossing his arms.

FINN (grinning, pleased)

"There we go."

Aurora finally let go, but her stare stayed sharp.

The pickpocket rubbed his wrist dramatically.

PICKPOCKET (muttering, rubbing wrist)

"Stars above, you’ve got a grip."

Aurora folded her arms.

AURORA (calm, unreadable)

"Try harder next time."

The pickpocket chuckled, shaking his head.

---

Then—his expression shifted.

The playful charm dimmed slightly.

He glanced around—checking the street, the crowd, the eyes in the distance.

Then, voice lower, tone more serious—he muttered.

PICKPOCKET (quiet, warning)

"Not everyone here likes elves."

---

A pause.

Finn’s grin faded.

Aurora’s arms, still folded, tightened.

The air around them—lighter prior—felt subtly heavier.

Finn and Aurora exchanged a glance.

Then, Finn turned back to the pickpocket, tilting his head.

FINN (calm, curious)

"And what exactly does that mean?"

The pickpocket hesitated.

Enough to know he had an answer.

But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to give it.

His sharp eyes darted to the crowd again.

Then—he exhaled, shaking his head.

PICKPOCKET (muttering, glancing away)

"It’s nothing."

Aurora didn’t buy it.

AURORA (flat, unimpressed)

"You sure about that?"

The pickpocket grimaced.

And suddenly, he tensed.

---

Because somewhere in the distance—

A sharp, shrill whistle cut through the air.

His entire demeanor changed in an instant.

Gone was the smooth-talking thief.

Now—he was just someone who just wanted to disappear.

PICKPOCKET (quick, muttered)

"Look, just—watch where you walk, alright?"

he bolted.

Twisting, darting, slipping between the crowd like smoke through cracks.

Aurora made a move to follow.

Finn caught her arm.

She turned to him—a split second away from shaking him off.

But Finn was watching the crowd.

Not the pickpocket.

The crowd.

He had just realized—people were moving.

And not in a natural way.

A shift. A subtle, quiet shuffle.

Like some people had noticed that whistle, too.

Like some people knew exactly what it meant.

Aurora saw it now, too.

Her fingers twitched.

Then—slowly, she let it go.

The pickpocket was gone.

But the feeling he left behind wasn’t.

---

The pickpocket was gone.

But his words—and the way he vanished at the sound of that whistle— lingered.

Finn exhaled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he and Aurora resumed walking.

FINN (casual, but musing)

"Well. That was weird."

Aurora’s gaze swept the market, but nothing looked different.

No guards storming in. No one pointing at them.

Just… normal.

AURORA (calm, unreadable)

"A little bit."

They walked on.

---

Finn slowed.

His eyes flicked to the side, landing on a stall unlike the others.

A crooked wooden sign hung above it, carved with twisting letters neither of them could read.

And the stall itself?

Covered in miniature trees.

Tiny potted saplings with deep emerald leaves.

Delicate branches curling toward the air.

Roots bound in soil that seemed too dark, too rich for this city of stone.

And behind them—A merchant.

A tall, wiry figure wrapped in deep green cloth, their long fingers idly tracing a vine draped over their shoulder.

Their face was mostly hidden beneath the shade of a wide-brimmed hat—but when they turned, their smile was visible.

Slow. Amused. Knowing.

Then—they sang.

---

MERCHANT (playful, melodic)

"Ohhh, little elves, so far from their trees!"

Finn blinked.

Aurora paused.

And the merchant’s smile widened.

---

Finn rested an arm on the stall’s wooden frame, grinning.

FINN (casual, friendly)

"Nice setup you’ve got here."

The merchant—still absently toying with the vine over their shoulder—tilted their head slightly.

TREE MERCHANT (smooth, amused)

"And here I thought the elves had no interest outside their trees."

Aurora eyed them carefully.

Finn, however, laughed.

FINN (grinning, playing along)

"Well, y’know, gotta check in on the locals. Make sure everything’s up to code."

Aurora sighed dramatically, crossing her arms.

AURORA (mock serious, nodding)

"Mhm. Lotta suspicious activity in these parts."

The merchant’s eyes gleamed with humor.

TREE MERCHANT (soft chuckle)

"Oh, indeed. The stone streets are full of whispers."

Finn leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

FINN (grinning, conspiratorial)

"Any tree-related crimes we should know about?"

Aurora tapped her chin, pretending to consider.

AURORA (calm, mock stern)

"Illegal sapling smuggling? Leaf trafficking?"

The merchant let out a slow, quiet laugh.

Then—they leaned forward slightly, their voice light, but edged with something else.

TREE MERCHANT (playful, knowing)

"Oh, the only crime here is knowing more than you should."

A beat of silence.

Then—the merchant tilted their head, studying them.

Their fingers traced the curve of one of their small potted trees, voice dropping to something almost… thoughtful.

MERCHANT (calm, amused)

"But perhaps you two understand that already."

Finn, not one to let a mood linger too long, clapped his hands once.

FINN (grinning, smooth)

"Alright, alright. Enough mystery talk. What’s actually for sale here?"

The merchant grinned.

And then—

they leaned in slightly.

---

MERCHANT (soft, knowing smile)

"A secret."

A pause.

Then—they lifted a finger, waggling it slightly.

MERCHANT (gently playful, amused)

"For a secret."

---

Finn exchanged a glance with Aurora.

Aurora raised an eyebrow.

Finn tilted his head slightly, considering.

This just got interesting.

.

.

.

---

The corridors were quieter here.

Not the same controlled silence of the worker district.

Not the casual hum of the market.

This was a different kind of quiet.

A stillness that pressed against the air.

Like the walls themselves were listening.

Harry walked at an easy pace, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning his surroundings.

With him, his escort.

A tall, stone-faced gentleman —who guided him to this part of the city. Where "The Grand Library" of Vash’Kael is located.

The governor had personally requested harry, to take the gentleman with him as a guide.

Even though, he insisted he could somehow get to it by himself. Something like,

"I wear these glasses for a reason you know."

--

At last, they reached a set of doors.

Not wooden. Not metal.

But stone—smooth, polished, carved with delicate symbols that faintly glowed.

The attendant moved to push them open but—paused.

Then, slowly, he turned to Harry.

ATTENDANT (calm, measured)

"The archives are restricted to select visitors. You are permitted to enter… but I request you to be mindful."

Harry tilted his head.

HARRY (calm, genuine)

"Mindful?"

The attendant didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, his gaze lingered on the door.

Then, simply—he pushed it open.

A rush of cool, thick air swept out from within.

Harry took a step forward—then stopped.

For a brief second, he hesitated.

Then—he turned back.

And in a moment that didn’t feel forced, that didn’t feel like a habit—

He gave a small nod.

HARRY (soft, genuine)

"Thanks. I appreciate the help."

simple words.

Said with sincerity.

And it landed.

The attendant blinked—almost imperceptibly.

Like he weren’t used to being thanked.

Like he hadn’t expected it.

Harry didn’t stay to see his reaction.

Didn’t wait for a response.

He had already stepped inside.

And the doors, without anyone touching them—

Closed behind him.

---

(Inside the Archives – A Place That Breathes Secrets)

The room was massive.

Not like the grand halls of the governor’s estate.

Not like the towering courtyards of the city.

This was different.

A vast, sprawling space lined with bookshelves that stretched high into shadow.

Scrolls drifted lazily through the air, caught in unseen currents.

Candles flickered without melting.

The ceiling, if there was one, was lost in a haze of soft, golden light.

And above it all—the quiet hum.

Not loud.

Not constant.

But there.

Like the sound of a page being turned—infinitely slow, endlessly deep.

---

Harry exhaled slowly.

There was no dust here.

No musty smell of old parchment.

Only the faint scent of ink and something… ancient.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

Because something about this place called to him.

Not in a loud way.

Not in a way that demanded attention.

But in a way that whispered silently.

A place where questions weren’t just answered.

A place where questions led to more questions.

And, he liked that.

---

A soft, gliding sound echoed from deeper inside.

Harry’s eyes flicked up—and there, emerging from the shadows, 

the librarian.

They weren’t just a figure of light.

They had form. Presence.

As they came closer he saw a woman—older, her spectral glow lined with soft wrinkles, her expression carrying the weight of countless years.

Her hair—**long, silver, flowing like mist—**moved gently with no wind.

Her robes, deep and layered, shifted like flowing ink, edges blurring as she stepped forward.

And her eyes—gentle, patient, knowing.

Like she had seen a thousand students stand where he stood now.

And when she spoke, her voice was warm.

Not eerie. Not booming.

Just calm. Assured.

Like a teacher who already knew the answers—

But wanted the student to find them on their own.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (soft, welcoming)

"You seem troubled, young one."

Harry turned to face her, hands still in his pockets.

And with a small, casual smirk—

HARRY (calm, amused)

"Troubled? Not really. "

He tilted his head, glancing toward the vast shelves.

HARRY (thoughtful, with a small shrug)

"But curious? Always."

The librarian chuckled.

A sound that echoed gently, like a ripple through water.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (amused, nodding)

"Then we are alike."

---

Harry wandered deeper into the archives.

There was no urgency.

No set path.

Just bookshelves stretching endlessly, scrolls tucked away in carved stone compartments, loose parchments laid out on heavy wooden desks.

The air here wasn’t just thick with knowledge.

It was thick with secrets.

Harry’s fingers brushed over a row of book spines, trailing along worn leather and faded lettering.

No dust. No neglect.

Everything here was maintained. Preserved.

Like nothing was ever meant to be lost. Or at least it seemed that way.

---

He pulled a book free at random.

Nothing special. Nothing that stood out.

Just an old tome, its cover worn but sturdy.

He opened it, turning pages absentmindedly.

Handwritten notes.

Diagrams of structures.

Strange symbols he didn’t recognize.

Then, he found a map.

Just a single page, tucked in among records of old roads and city layouts.

And yet—something was off.

Because half of it was blank.

Not unfinished.

Not worn away.

Just… missing. Like someone or something had erased it from existence.

---

A soft hum filled the space.

Not from the room.

From behind him.

The Spectral Librarian, watching, her hands folded gently before her.

Her expression was calm. Knowing.

And when she spoke, it wasn’t a question of curiosity.

It was a question of understanding.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (gentle, but pointed)

"Is it incomplete…?"

Her soft, aged features tilted slightly.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (quiet, smiling faintly)

"Or is it hidden?"

Harry’s fingers hovered over the blank space.

His mind spun.

Because this wasn’t worn. This wasn’t erased.

This was deliberately concealed.

His lips curled slightly.

HARRY (soft, amused)

"You like making people work for answers, huh?"

The librarian chuckled.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (calm, warm)

"The best questions… are the ones that lead to more questions."

Harry tapped his fingers against the book’s spine.

He liked that. Cause more questions means more reading.

And harry doesn't mind.

---

The map sat still beneath his hands.

Yet—the air around it wasn’t.

Something shifted.

Like the very space around him had changed.

Harry’s fingers hovered over the blank half of the map.

Missing? 

No. Hidden.

The thought barely settled in his mind 

when—

The runes flickered.

A low, soft hum echoed through the room.

And from somewhere beyond the shelves—

A book slid free.

It fell, like it had been moved by a gust of wind.

Then it flopped on the ground beside harry and the librarian.

Harry glanced at the her.

She hadn’t moved.

Hadn’t reacted.

She only watched, her soft, wise gaze filled with quiet amusement.

SPECTRAL LIBRARIAN (gentle, knowing)

"Some things reveal themselves to those who ask the right questions."

Harry’s lips curled slightly.

Because that?

That was a challenge.

He stepped forward.

And reached for the book.

---

(The City Watches, The Game Begins)

Across Vash’Kael, the city stirred.

Unknowingly, the group was moving the pieces.

Finn & Aurora stood before the Wooden Merchant.

His voice sang with riddles, his smile playful—but layered with meaning.

Sally, Jake, and King walked through the labor district.

Their presence was a disruption.

The guards had seen them.

The workers had felt them.

And Harry?

He was touching something hidden.

Something that had waited. Something that was waiting no longer.

And above it all—

In a chamber high above the city, 

The Governor watched.

A man of power. A man who saw everything.

And as the day deepened, as the city hummed under its own weight—

He leaned back in his chair.

And smiled.

GOVERNOR (softly, to himself, amused)

"Fascinating children."

---

[TO BE CONTINUED IN EPISODE 7]