Three weeks later...
Sakura finally saw Aurelis.
At first, she thought it was a mountain range.
A pale line stretched across the horizon, rising higher and higher as she followed the road north.
Only when she drew closer did she realize her mistake.
Walls.
Massive walls.
White stone walls.
They stretched so far in both directions that she couldn't see where they ended.
Sakura slowed her pace.
Then stopped entirely.
"...that's a city?"
The traveler beside her laughed.
"A first-timer, huh?"
She didn't answer.
Because she was too busy staring.
The road climbed a gentle hill.
And the entirety of Aurelis revealed itself.
Sakura's breath caught.
A narrow strait split the capital in two.
Countless ships moved through the water.
Merchant vessels.
Fishing boats.
Military ships.
The waterways looked more crowded than some towns she'd visited.
The western shore overflowed with warehouses, markets, and ports.
The eastern shore rose higher, filled with elegant buildings, government halls, and noble estates.
And between them—
stood Crown Isle.
The island fortress dominated everything.
White walls rose directly from the water.
Massive towers overlooked the strait.
Bridges connected the island to both shores like stone arteries.
At the center stood the Imperial Palace.
Even from this distance, it felt imposing.
Not because it was beautiful.
Though it was.
Not because it was large.
Though it certainly was.
But because it looked permanent.
Like something that had existed for centuries and intended to remain for centuries more.
For the first time since arriving in this world
Sakura understood why people spoke of Aurelis with such reverence.
Several hours later, she finally reached the gates.
The crowd was enormous.
Travelers.
Merchants.
Soldiers.
Scholars.
Nobles.
Thousands of people moved through the entrances every day.
The guards barely glanced at her documents before waving her through.
Sakura stepped into Aurelis.
And immediately got lost.
"..."
Five minutes.
It had taken five minutes.
A personal record.
The capital felt alive.
Street vendors shouted from every direction.
Performers entertained crowds.
Carriages rolled through wide avenues.
Bridges crossed canals.
The smell of food drifted through the air.
Everywhere she looked, something was happening.
The sheer amount of activity was exhausting.
Back on Earth, she usually avoided crowded places.
Now she was trapped inside the largest city she'd ever seen.
Fate had a cruel sense of humor.
Fortunately, asking questions was easier these days.
Years ago, she barely understood the language.
Now she could hold proper conversations.
Most of the time.
"The Archivist?"
An elderly shopkeeper frowned.
"You mean the Archivists?"
"No."
Sakura shook her head.
"The Archivist."
The singular title.
The shopkeeper's expression immediately changed.
Only slightly.
But she noticed.
"Try the Archive District."
"Near the Grand Archives."
---
"DUH,THANKS SHERLOCK"
Belial suddenly mumbled.
Even though Belial did not know why.
Haruto and Belial made eye contact.
Eventually..
Haruto decided to not mind it and continued drawing.
---
He pointed east.
The Grand Archives.
"The Veil Aster Archive"
That name appeared repeatedly throughout the day.
Booksellers mentioned it.
Scholars mentioned it.
Merchants recognized it.
Everyone seemed to know of it.
Not everyone knew the Archivist.
But everyone knew the archives.
By sunset—
Sakura finally reached the district.
And stopped.
Again.
The Grand Archives made every previous library she had ever visited seem insignificant.
The building resembled a palace.
Towering white columns supported vast stone roofs.
Massive windows reflected the golden light of evening.
Countless statues lined the entrances.
Scholars moved constantly between the buildings.
Carrying books.
Documents.
Records.
Entire histories.
The sight reminded Sakura of something.
An endless library.
A blank book.
A forgotten memory.
The feeling vanished as quickly as it arrived.
Yet the unease remained.
She climbed the steps.
Slowly.
One at a time.
Her heartbeat felt strangely loud.
Years.
She had spent years searching for answers.
Years wondering why she had arrived here.
Years wondering if Haruto was alive.
Years wondering whether anyone else understood.
And now—
she stood at the doorstep of the place most likely to provide those answers.
The realization was terrifying.
Inside, the archives were quieter.
Not silent.
Never silent.
Thousands of pages turning made their own kind of music.
Researchers sat at long tables.
Assistants carried stacks of books.
Ink scratched across parchment.
Knowledge lived here.
Breathing softly between endless shelves.
"Can I help you?"
The voice came from nearby.
A young woman stood behind a desk.
Dark hair.
Ink-stained fingers.
Tired eyes.
The unmistakable appearance of someone who spent too much time around books.
Sakura understood immediately.
She had found her people.
Maybe not found.
But close enough.
Sakura hesitated.
Then asked the question she had carried across half a continent.
"I'm looking for the Archivist."
The woman's smile disappeared.
Instantly.
Not dramatically.
Not fearfully.
Simply gone.
As though a mask had been removed.
"The Archivist?"
"Yes."
The scholar studied her carefully.
Far more carefully than before.
"Why?"
Sakura thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
"I was told to find them."
"By who?"
"...a book."
Silence.
A very long silence.
The scholar slowly set down her pen.
Closed her notebook.
Then stood.
"Come with me."
No explanation.
No questions.
No argument.
The woman simply turned and walked deeper into the archives.
Sakura followed.
Past shelves.
Past records.
Past rooms filled with books older than kingdoms.
The further they went, the fewer people remained.
Until eventually—
there were none.
Only silence.
And shelves.
And memories.
The scholar finally stopped before an ancient wooden door.
A single symbol was carved into its center.
A page.
Nothing more.
Just a page.
The woman knocked twice.
Then stepped aside.
Several moments passed.
Silence.
Then—
"Enter."
A calm voice echoed from within.
Old.
Steady.
Patient.
The scholar opened the door.
Sakura stepped forward.
And crossed the threshold.
For some reason—
the moment she entered the room, the blue stone her palm felt warm.