Their walk to the baths is a quiet one, though Celica does take a moment to check in on Inigo as they arrive, Eldigan already setting off to examine the drains. âAre you alright?â She prods, softly. Gently. âThat wasnât exactly your best showing yesterday. If youâd ever like some magic practice, I would be happy toââ
âSeems weâve found our enemyâs escape route. The attacks must surely fan out from here.â
   Eldiganâs words bring the queen back to full alert, her focus returning to the task at hand. There would always be time to chat later, but for nowâŚÂ âThe drain? But itâs soâŚâ Small. Enough to fit a rat, she remembers the knight on patrol saying.Â
   Confused as to how it could correlate to the culprit, Celica approaches the drain herself, kneeling for a closer look. The frost around it holds traces of magic, albeit faint. Thereâs nothing particularly out of the ordinary about the way it feels, but it is clearly related to the ice encasing the students. She glances up, eyes scanning the roomâbut that begs the question: where was it coming from?
   Celica gets to her feet and follows Eldiganâs example, giving the room another sweep. Thoughts travel back to her travels across Valentia, her numerous forays in caves with secret pathways, in dungeons with traps. Ewanâs words also come to mind (âIf it is anything like here, I bet theyâll have plenty of secret passages!â), and so she searches for a passage. Her hands run over walls, touching mirrors and showerheads; anything that seemed like it could be concealing a tunnel, or a switch to activate one.
   On the far wall, something clunks, and before she can process the noise, a door suddenly swings open from the wall, causing her to stumble back in shock. It was exactly what she was looking for: a secret passage, leading to a stairwell going up. Celica exchanges glances with Inigo and Eldigan, and then steps forward to lead the way. The stairwell is tall and spiraling, and the walk is long. After a while, they pass a windowâtheyâre up quite high, and in the distance, the black and white towers can be seen. Her brows furrow. Were they in the gray one, then?
   Eventually, their ascent reaches an end. At the top of the stairs sits a large, wooden door. Itâs bare, but there is still a foreboding air about it, enough to discourage one from entry. She takes a breath and looks to her companions, ââŚShall we?â
An overly bright smile blooms across his face. For Celica, heâll make the effort appear unbothered, even though he knows she sees right through him.Â
âHah, olâ Inigo is fine!â But his smile wilts at the corners. ââŚyou mages make magic look so easy. I wouldnât mindââ some more help, Inigo means to say, but Eldiganâs observation cuts the conversation short. Tossing Celica another grateful smile, he shifts his attention to the shower drains.Â
He doesnât need a fancy degree in magic to recognize that the ice is not normal. Something about it seems off to him. Idly, he wonders what would happen if brushed a fingertip against it. Nothing good, he assumes.Â
A clunk pulls Inigo from acting reckless. Celica stands before an open doorâa secret passage! Dancer stands, unsheathing his sword as he approaches. âHaving fun yet?â He teases as he follows his companions up the stairs. He peeks out the window, staring at the wide blue sky stretching on forever, only broken by the spires of the black and white towers.Â
He manages to tear his gaze away. Fortunate thing, too, because their journey comes to a brief halt at a simple wooden door. Inigo twirls his sword in his hand. âUsually Iâd say ladies first, but allow me to investigate, eh?â The wink he gives Celica is utterly borne of habit; an attempt to keep everyoneâs mood light as they brave the unknown.Â
A few more light steps and heâs pushing on the knobless door. It remains stubbornly closed. Frowning, Inigo looks at the surrounding wall. The passegewayâs opening was hidden by some kind of mechanism, right? Fingers skim along the stone, until they catch on a cleverly hidden switch. Thereâs a soft click, then the door swings open on silent hinges.Â
Unconsciously, he shifts into a loose fighting. âEnter on the count of three?âÂ
Mechanisms activate, and Eldigan turns on his heel at the sound of the hidden passage opening. His eyes widen at the discovery, but after a glance exchanged with the other two, they all cautiously begin up the secret stairwell. The climb up into the skies of this claustrophobic tower seems to last an eternity, until they finally pass a window. It giving some context and respite in their exploration.
The path finally ends with a foreboding door, acting as the last guardian to whatever lies beyond. Inigo finds the second hidden switch and prepares a fighting stance before Eldigan places a hand on his shoulder.
This room was behind two hidden entrances and a spire into the skies. Whatever was here, may have been meant to stay hidden. âLord Inigo, please, allow me.â Eldigan draws Mystletainn and blocks his wards behind him before finally pushing the door open.
The room is quiet, save for the gentle whistle of a breeze traversing a creaking, open window. Moonlight filters into the room, revealing a small, cozy study. There's a simple desk, and on it are inkwells and quills and charcoal sat atop parchment. Books litter the desk itself, and a few are set on the ground beside it. There's a plush cushion to sit on, too. Otherwise, the room is fairly spartan. There's a small cot, not near enough to be comfortable for extended periods of time but mayhap enough to provide a short respite. A few herbs are strung to the wall opposite the window. An unlit torch sits in a bracket by the door.
The knight blinks. Just a small study..?
Yet something still does not feel right... be it the nightâs quiet breeze, or the unassuming decor. Mystletainn still steels at the ready, and Eldigan carefully enters. An eagle eye watching for any trip wires or trap runes, before making his way over to the desk.
There's a book on Faerghus children's nursery rhymes. Another that appears to be about knights. A chivalrous tale... Another about Sreng folktales. One that looks to be a journal of some sort...? Another that's just some hefty tome on botany. Another on reason magics, another on faith magics. One on contemporary art in modern times in Fodlan. One on Flora and Fauna of Fodlan
The book on Sreng folktales catches the manâs eye. It may shed more light upon the âNevermeltice,â but Eldigan investigates the journal first to see whoâs study this is. He flips through the pages before reading a few entries in the middle.
1179, Harpstring Moon, xx
I stress again, dear journal, how glad I am to have found this little refuge. This is so far removed from my home, I can hardly hear myself think among the throngs of other students. I think I'll bring a few small things up to make it a little more home-y.
1180, Great Tree Moon, xx
Making friends is difficult. I'm glad I found these funny little creatures to keep me company. I don't know why, but I feel an odd kinship with them. I'm going to try and find out more about them.
1180, Garland Moon, xx
They've begun to act strangely, they have. Don't get me wrong, dear journal, they're still sweet as can be, but I sense something amiss. I wish I could speak with them...