Chapter 952: How is she?
Strax’s sentence remained suspended in the archive hall for a few seconds.
"We will visit the Capital afterward."
No one there understood that as a diplomatic promise.
The floor was still covered in pale glass, formed from the contaminated sand that had been burned and frozen at the same time. The ancient archive shelves groaned beneath Mercedes’s thin layer of blue ice, and pieces of parchment fluttered in the cold air, pinned by small translucent spears before they could touch any shadow. Havel remained collapsed against the wall, unconscious, his fingers bloodied, his face cracked, and his chest rising and falling in short breaths.
Mercedes did not look at the scribe like someone seeing a traitorous subordinate.
Her gaze was worse.
She looked at him like someone who had not yet decided whether the betrayal was large enough to kill him or small enough to keep him alive and useful.
"He goes to a cell without shadows," she said.
Two Northern guards approached, but stopped when Frieren raised her hand.
"Do not touch him yet."
Mercedes turned her face to her.
"Why?"
"Because there are active threads inside his body. If you move him without isolating them, he may not wake up as Havel."
Daniela grimaced.
"That sentence was horrible."
"It was precise."
Strax walked to the scribe’s body and crouched. His aura was contained, but the air around him seemed to bend anyway. He examined Havel’s face, the closed eyes, the dry lips, the sand stuck in the corners of his nails. Then he looked at the crushed symbols on the floor.
"He did not know everything."
Frieren nodded.
"No. He was taught in fragments. Enough to execute, not enough to understand."
"That is convenient."
"For whoever used him, yes."
Mercedes closed her hand.
The ice around Havel thickened.
"He was responsible for the old matriarch’s archives for years. He had access to documents almost no one touched. If someone in the Capital knew that, they knew exactly which piece to move."
Cassandra carefully collected one of the partially preserved scrolls. The edges were burned by White Fire, but some lines were still legible, written in Havel’s trembling handwriting and interspersed with older symbols.
"He copied something from here, but not only from here."
She showed the page to Frieren.
"There is a second handwriting in the margins. Firmer. More educated."
Frieren brought the runic lens closer.
"It is not Havel’s."
Mercedes narrowed her eyes.
"Then someone sent notes."
"Or someone was here before," Cassandra said.
The silence grew heavy.
Strax looked at Mercedes.
"Who from the Capital visited your archives?"
"No one should have visited."
"That was not an answer."
Mercedes remained still for a few seconds. She seemed to run through years of visits, emissaries, formal meetings, inventories, and delegations. The North received little attention from the Empire, but little did not mean none. Sometimes inspectors came. Sometimes healers. Sometimes scholars sent under the pretext of cataloging relics, evaluating tributes, or confirming the stability of ancient seals.
Then her gaze changed.
"Three months ago," she said. "An imperial emissary came to review old treaties about frozen borders."
Samira raised an eyebrow.
"Old treaties?"
"That was what they claimed."
Frieren looked at her.
"Name?"
Mercedes was silent for a fraction of a second, not from doubt, but from caution. Then she corrected her own answer before even offering it.
"Title. Superior Archivist of the Wing of Forgotten Records. Lord Vaelis Oranth."
Ouroboros immediately closed her eyes.
Strax noticed.
"What is it?"
"That name weighs strangely."
Daniela let out a short, nervous laugh.
"Of course it weighs strangely. He works in the Wing of Forgotten Records. That is already suspicious by definition."
"It is not only that," Ouroboros said. "The thread I felt in the glass did not simply go to the Capital. It coiled around a place where memories are kept by obligation, not affection."
Frieren raised her face.
"Imperial archives."
Mercedes looked at Havel.
"Vaelis had access to the matriarch’s inventory. I authorized a supervised visit. He was not left alone."
"Who supervised him?" Strax asked.
"Havel."
The answer fell like a blade.
Strax stood.
"Then we have the first name."
Frieren looked at him immediately.
"Strax."
"I know. I will not keep repeating it."
"That is not it. If this man works with forgotten records and is involved with an entity that drinks names, perhaps the name he uses is not safe."
Mercedes frowned.
"Are you saying even his name may not be real?"
"I am saying it may be bait."
Daniela passed a hand over her face.
"I really hate this crisis."
Samira looked at Havel.
"Then we wake him and ask enough to confirm."
Mercedes raised her hand, and Havel’s body was wrapped in a rigid layer of blue ice, except for his face and chest. The ice did not hurt him, but it pinned every muscle, every finger, every shadow around him. Frieren approached, placed two talismans over the scribe’s closed eyes and a third over his tongue.
Havel woke screaming.
He had no time to move.
The ice did not allow it.
His eyes opened human first, then golden, then human again. His breath failed, and he tried to say something, but the talisman on his tongue lit up, preventing any ancient syllable from escaping.
Mercedes crouched before him.
"Havel."
The man trembled.
"Your Majesty..."
"You placed a threat inside my daughter’s room."
He began to cry.
"I did not... I did not mean to... I thought it was only a purification rite. They said the ancient cold was imprisoning the North. They said the little one was a stolen crown, that the kingdom would never be free while she existed without returning what she carried."
Strax took a step.
Havel shrank inside the ice.
Mercedes raised her hand, stopping Strax from advancing. Not out of pity for the scribe. Out of usefulness.
"Who said that?"
Havel closed his eyes.
The talisman on his forehead glowed.
"I do not remember the face."
"Then remember the voice."
His body shook.
"Calm. Polite. Imperial. He spoke like someone who already knew how the sentence would end before I began."
Mercedes looked at Strax.
"Vaelis."
Havel cried harder.
"He said he recorded what the world was too cowardly to remember. Said the old matriarch stole one of the cold crowns and hid it in her own blood. Said that if I helped, the North would be saved from eternal freezing."
Frieren leaned in.
"And in exchange?"
Havel opened his eyes.
"There was... a promise."
"What promise?"
"That my name would not be forgotten when the cold ended."
Ouroboros closed her fingers around the yellow glass.
"He offered memory."
Cassandra became serious.
"For a scribe, that would be tempting."
"Not just tempting," Frieren said. "Perfect."
Havel tried to breathe, but his chest seemed too heavy.
"Then I began to dream of sand. I would wake up writing. I knew something was wrong, but when I tried to stop, I remembered things I had never lived. Cities of glass. People marching. A faceless throne. And a voice saying I had already promised."
Mercedes spoke without emotion:
"You could have come to me."
"I forgot I could."
The sentence was so simple that, for a moment, even Daniela lost her sarcasm.
Frieren touched the talisman on his forehead and grew serious.
"That is not an excuse. But it is a symptom."
Strax looked at her.
"Can he lie?"
"He can. But these answers came from different layers. The guilt is his. The manipulation is also real."
Mercedes stood.
"Take him to the chamber without shadows. Alive. Gagged. With talismans on his tongue, eyes, and hands. If he starts writing with anything, break his fingers."
The guards nodded.
Havel began to sob, but no one there had patience to console him. Two ice mages lifted the block carefully, securing him on a runic stretcher. When they passed Strax, Havel tried to look at him.
"I did not know she would cry."
Strax only turned his eyes.
"But you knew she would be used."
Havel did not answer.
He did not need to.
When the scribe was taken away, Mercedes remained motionless for a few seconds. Her fury was not loud. It did not need to be. The entire castle seemed to feel it, because the ice on the walls grew thicker, the windows turned opaque, and even the blue torches burned lower.
Strax looked at her.
"How is she?"
Mercedes closed her eyes for an instant.
"Frightened. Awake. Safe for now."
"I want to see her before I leave."
"You are leaving now?"
"I am."
"To the Capital."
"Yes."
Mercedes turned to him.
"Then I am going too."
Strax did not answer immediately.
Samira, Daniela, and Cassandra exchanged looks. Frieren pretended to examine a shard of glass, but was clearly paying attention. Ouroboros remained still, as if she already knew that discussion would happen.
"You need to stay with her," Strax said.
Mercedes narrowed her eyes.
"Do not use my daughter as a reason to leave me out of this."
"She was just almost taken."
"Exactly."
"Then she needs you."
"And she also needs the person who opened the way for that thing to be torn out of the world."
Strax held her gaze.
Mercedes took a step forward.
"My castle was invaded. My archives were used. A subordinate of mine was manipulated. My daughter was touched inside my own territory. This is not only your affair."
"I know."
"Then do not speak as if it is."
The room grew cold enough to form mist before their breaths.
Strax looked toward the corridor through which Havel had been taken.
Then to Mercedes.
"If you come, who protects her?"
Mercedes did not hesitate.
"The heart chamber. Ingrid. My personal guards. The matriarch’s inner seal. And, if necessary, I will leave half my mana bound around her."
"Half your mana will not be enough if he tries again."
"He will not try while we are going after the one who gave him the path."
Frieren raised her hand.
"Actually, there is a chance he will try precisely because we are going after the one who gave him the path."
Mercedes looked at her.
Frieren lowered her hand.
"I only said there is a chance."
Strax let out a sigh.
"You stay."
Mercedes opened her mouth.
"For now," he completed.
She stopped.
"I go first. I confirm Vaelis, find out whether the Emperor knows or is being used. If it is something that requires your presence, I will call."
Mercedes smiled without humor.
"You expect me to trust that promise?"
"No."
"Good."
"But I expect you to trust that I will not let this thing keep pulling the little one through dreams."
Her expression changed slightly.
Strax continued, lower:
"I need her to have someone here when she asks whether the sand will come back."
Mercedes fell silent.
That struck where no political argument would.
At last, she turned her face toward the frozen window.
"You have a few hours."
"Mercedes."
"A few hours, Strax. If I receive no news, I will go to the Capital and freeze the entire path to the Emperor’s hall."
Samira smiled.
"I would pay to see that."
Daniela looked at her.
"So would I."
Cassandra sighed.
"You two are terrible at reducing tension."
Strax nodded to Mercedes.
"Fair."
Frieren then lifted one of the recovered scrolls.
"I am going with you."
"Yes," Strax said.
She blinked.
"You are not even arguing?"
"I need someone to stop me from killing the wrong person before I discover enough."
"That is an extremely sensible and disturbing reason."
"Ouroboros is coming too."
Ouroboros nodded.
"Yes."
Samira rested the greatsword on her shoulder.
"Me too."
"Yes."
Daniela raised her hand.
"Before you say my name, I just want to register that I hate the Capital."
"You are coming."
"I knew it."
Cassandra stored the scrolls in a protected bag.
"I should go as well. If there are archives and symbols, we will need to compare handwriting, seals, and records."
Strax nodded.
"You go."
Mercedes looked at the group.
"You are taking half of Asgard’s strength to the Capital."
"No. I am taking a small team."
"Small for dragons."
"Yes."
A beat of wings echoed outside. Tiamat appeared at the tower’s broken window, still in human form, crouched on a platform of ice as if that were perfectly normal.
"I heard Capital. Can I go?"
Strax looked at her.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I need someone dangerous to stay in Asgard in case the next wave comes from the desert."
Tiamat made a face.
"That is irritatingly reasonable."
"I try sometimes."
"Rare."
"Yes."
She leapt out again, clearly dissatisfied, but without arguing further. That showed just how serious the situation was.
A short while later, Mercedes took Strax to the heart chamber.
The path was deeper than he expected. They descended blue ice stairs, crossed doors without visible locks, and corridors where there was not a single shadow. The light came from all sides at once, reflected by crystals buried in the walls. At the center of the chamber, the little girl sat on a low bed covered with white blankets, surrounded by guards and ancient runes.
She looked at Strax as soon as he entered.
"Are you going away?"
The question came far too small.
Strax knelt before her.
"I am going to resolve something."
"In the Capital?"
He looked at Mercedes.
Mercedes shrugged, as if saying she would not hide it.
"Yes," Strax said.
The little girl held a cup of warm milk with both hands.
"Was it someone from there?"
"Maybe."
"Are you going to hurt him?"
Strax was silent for a second.
Mercedes watched.
Frieren, at the entrance, pretended not to hear.
Strax spoke carefully:
"I am going to stop him from doing it again."
The little girl looked at him as if she knew that was not a complete answer, but accepted it anyway because she was too tired to demand another.
"Can I sleep when you come back?"
Strax’s throat tightened.
"Yes."
"And will you stay close?"
"I will."
She nodded.
"Then go quickly."
Strax extended his hand. She held his fingers again, squeezing with what little strength she had.
"Do not say my name near the sand."
"I will not."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She slowly released his hand.
Strax stood.
Mercedes walked with him to the chamber’s exit, but before he passed through the door, she held his arm.
"Strax."
He looked at her.
"Bring me the name of who did this."
His smile was brief.
"You will not like what I do afterward."
Mercedes released his arm.
"I did not ask to like it."
When Strax returned to the castle courtyard, the team was already gathered. Frieren carried the scrolls and the pale glass. Ouroboros was wrapped in a dark cloak. Samira, Daniela, and Cassandra waited in silence. A communication crystal floated beside Frieren, connected to Monica in Asgard.
Monica’s voice came from it before Strax could speak.
"I have already received the partial report."
"Of course you have."
"Yennifer is on her way to the Capital through shadows. Rogue reinforced routes. Tiamat is complaining in the courtyard. Albedo and Lithara are hunting internal distortions. No new large movement in the southeast so far."
"Good."
"Do not cause open war before confirming whether the Emperor is involved."
Strax was silent.
"Strax."
"I heard."
"That is not agreement."
"It is what you have."
Monica sighed.
"I hate when you travel to diplomatic places."
"So do I."
"That does not help."
"I know."
The crystal went dark.
Samira transformed first, followed by Cassandra and Daniela. Strax assumed his draconic form soon after, larger, darker, with White Fire shining in the cracks between his scales like light trapped beneath stone. Frieren and Ouroboros climbed up quickly, and within minutes the group left the Northern castle behind.
Mercedes remained in the courtyard, watching the sky until the draconic forms disappeared into the horizon.
Then she turned toward the heart chamber.
Her expression softened for only an instant.
Then grew cold again.
"Prepare my armies," she said to the captain beside her.
"Your Majesty?"
"Not to march."
Yet.
She looked south, toward the distant direction of the Heavenly Capital.
"In case I decide a few hours was too generous."