Page 62 of Her Orc Protector

"Councilor Thenholt is aware of our procedures," she replied, unmoved. "If he wished to grant you special access, he would have provided the appropriate documentation."

I was about to respond when a voice spoke from behind me.

"Miss Fairbairn. What a pleasant surprise."

I turned to find Councilor Thenholt standing there, tall and dignified in his formal robes. His silver hair was neatly combed, and his expression was one of mild curiosity.

"Councilor," I said, inclining my head in greeting. "I was just—"

"Attempting to access the vault, I hear." He glanced at the token on the counter. "Ah, I see you've brought my token. Excellent."

The clerk's expression faltered slightly. "Councilor, with all due respect, a recognition token doesn't—"

"Let her in, Madame Virrel," he said calmly.

"Sir, the regulations clearly state—"

"Let her in," he repeated, his tone still pleasant but leaving no room for argument. "Miss Fairbairn is an archivist who has proven herself more capable than most of our own researchers."

The clerk's mouth thinned, but she nodded stiffly. "As you wish, Councilor." She turned to a cabinet behind her and withdrew a small golden key. "I'll need to note this in the access log."

"Of course," Thenholt said smoothly. "Record it under my authorization."

As Madame Virrel busied herself with the logbook, the councilor turned to me, speaking low enough that only I could hear. "I assume you have a good reason to be here."

I met his gaze steadily. "Yes, sir."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded slightly. "The Archives are fortunate to have someone of your caliber. Use your time wisely."

With that, he inclined his head in farewell and departed, leaving me at the counter as Madame Virrel finished her notation.

"You'll need to be escorted," she said, her tone making it clear that she still didn't approve. She rang a small bell on her desk, and a moment later, a young man in the formal gray robes of a civic scribe appeared from a side door.

"Terran, please escort this... archivist... to Vault Section C." She handed him the golden key. "Authorization by Councilor Thenholt, restricted access protocol."

The young man accepted the key with a bow. "Yes, Madame Virrel." He turned to me with a polite smile. "If you'll follow me, please."

I was led through the side door and down another flight of stairs. The air grew noticeably cooler here, with a faint mineral scent that reminded me of cave stone. The walls were lined with rune-inscribed panels that emanated a subtle magical hum—preservation spells, I guessed, to protect the contents within.

"We're entering the main vault now," Terran explained as we reached a massive iron door. "Section C houses records fromthe Shadowfall War and its immediate aftermath. Most sensitive or dangerous materials were removed to Section D, but that requires special clearance beyond what Councilor Thenholt has authorized."

He inserted the golden key into an ornate lock and turned it. The door swung open silently, revealing a vast chamber beyond. Stone shelving stretched from floor to ceiling, arranged in neat rows that extended deep into the space. Enchanted lanterns floated at regular intervals, casting a soft, blue-tinged light that didn't flicker or waver.

"You may transcribe materials here," Terran said, leading me to a small work table against one wall. "But nothing may be removed from the vault."

He presented me with a folio containing a single sheet of enchanted parchment and a charcoal sketching stick.

“Standard for researchers,” he said. “The parchment’s spelled to generate exact replicas—text, diagrams, even marginalia—but only as they appear. No alterations, no forgeries. Once it’s sealed, the record locks and any tampering shows up as distortion. It’s admissible before the Civic Council as a verified copy.”

"Thank you," I said, accepting the materials.

"I must also inform you," he continued, his tone formal, "that the vault records your time and any magical activity. The standard limit is two hours. I'll remain present throughout your visit."

I nodded my understanding. "I'm looking for records regarding specific artifacts recovered during the war. Particularly sealing sigils or objects that manipulate perception."

"War artifacts would be in the eastern section, catalog marks beginning with AD-7 through AD-12. Follow me."

He led me through the rows of shelving, past countless scrolls, bound volumes, and sealed cases. The organization was meticulous—every item and shelf were labeled with precise catalog designations.

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