Page 119 of The Alien in the Archive

She takes a slow breath, and I brace myself for what she’ll say next. Accusations. Questions. Demands.

But what she says takes me off guard.

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

I blink, unsure if I’ve heard her correctly. “You…honor me?”

She gives me a small smile. “Your mentor, Zerithek Nexorin—his works on ethics and dissent during the late Borean Republic were the foundation of my career. Seeing how the republic destroyed itself for the sake of crafting a myth of immortal power…it’s my life’s work.”

I can’t help the small, bitter smile that pulls at my mouth. I hadn’t even been able to recall Nexorin’s name until recently, but now the loss is keen again. “All that work…and look what it brought him.”

Davina’s brow furrows. “And yet, here you are. Proof that his work meant something.”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. To hear that someone,anyone, still remembers him…

“Come with me,” I say, my voice rough. “Page said you want to see the reading room. I intend to show you.”

She nods, and I’m surprised once again when she follows me without delay. There’s not a trace of fear in her mind…just intellectual exhilaration.

It gives me hope.

We begin the trek through the Obscuary, Davina beside me. Ashlan pads quietly ahead, weaving through the stacks, Davina’s light glowing in her hand. “I’ve never been this farback,” she says. “The archivists don’t go here; said it was dangerous, that it was too easy to get lost.”

“That was intentional,” I reply. “A safeguard. The Obscuary wasn’t just built for knowledge; it was built to protect it.”

“By whom?” she asks.

“By a collective. Scholars from three species: Borean, Merati, Skoll. It was a place of learning, of unity.” I glance over at her. “Before the Empire.”

She doesn’t respond, but I can sense her growing excitement.

For me, this is my last gasp at salvation.

For her, it’s a revelation.

We reach the reading room, its ancient door shut. Davina immediately approaches it, eyes darting over the figures engraved on the door. I give her a moment to examine it in the light. “Is this it?” she says. “The reading room?”

“Would you like to go inside?”

She nods vigorously. “Yes. Please.”

I open the door, and Davina steps through, her gaze sweeping the space in open wonder.

“This…” She trails off, stepping toward the ancient, untouched shelves. “This shouldn’t exist.”

“Few know it does,” I say, watching her as she moves deeper into the room. Her hands hover near the carefully arranged books and scrolls, reverent but careful not to touch. “The reading room was the heart of our work. Here, we debated, studied, created. For a brief time, the Obscuary held everything we dreamed could be possible.”

Davina turns back to me, expression unreadable. “And then?”

I shrug. “You know our history better than most anyone else still alive. You tell me.”

“The republic was overthrown and the Empire established. Histories of the republic were largely destroyed,” she replies. I can feel her sadness over it—that scholarly empathy I’ve seen in Page. “This place…it must have meant everything to you.”

“It did.”

“And now?”

“I found something more important.”

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