In the gap between two palaces, Aarin shoved Nirvan against a wall. The ghost inhaled sharply as Aarin caged his body with his arms.
"What do you know about the void ink?" Aarin asked, looking up at Nirvan.
The ghost lord let out a low whistle and smiled. "I never took you for the particularly dominant type, Master Aarin?"
After the assembly, Niryati had allowed the two to go to the Cloud-riding Archives, the largest library to have ever existed, only available to gods or guests. On the way there, Aarin had pulled Nirvan to the side wordlessly.
Aarin frowned. "Don't joke with me," he tried to hide the hurt in his face, "You- you know its origins. Why won't you tell me?"
Nirvan didn't respond, only gazing at the reaper. Aarin tried to search for anything in his eyes, but he found nothing, nothing he could discern anyway. He sighed and looked away.
"You don't trust me," Aarin concluded. Nirvan went to start, but Aarin raised his hand, stepping back.
"It's alright," he murmured. "I shouldn't have overstepped. If you can tell me some day in the future, I'll be grateful."
A month. A month.
Aarin needed something substantial in a month, otherwise- he didn't want to think of an otherwise. They were all already so agitated; he didn't want to know how much worse it could get. He'd heard tales of heavenly blood being spilled on the palace floor. Would it come to that if they failed to find anything?
He could barely hear Nirvan laughing softly over the sound of his own thoughts.
The ghost's hair was unruly, eyes closed as he inhaled, shoulders slightly tense. The sight was such a far cry from the Nirvan he'd seen in the assembly a moment ago; it was jarring. He knew Nirvan deep down; he knew this man as he knew himself, but he had doubts.
Was this the real Nirvan, or had time decayed his innocence and humanity as well?
"I'll tell you," the ghost sighed and dramatically pinched his nose-bridge. Aarin's eyes widened in surprise but also relief.
"You will? I-"
"Ah, ah, ah," Nirvan cut him off. "Let me finish. I'll tell you, if you beat me in a duel."
Aarin frowned, confusion clear on his face. A duel…? What was Nirvan playing at?
"Come on, it's a good deal!" Nirvan whined, holding Aarin's arm. The reaper felt his face grow warmer and averted his eyes. Alright, if a duel is what it took- so be it. Aarin nodded, a soft 'thank you' on his lips, as they began walking. The archives weren't that far from the main palace; the gates were already in view by the time a certain god found them.
"The dog and his ghost."
Aarin's entire body tensed. He turned slowly to find Riyan approaching.
"Lord Riyan," Aarin said, keeping his voice neutral. "We were just-"
"I know what you're doing. Seeking answers in the Archives," Riyan scoffed. "Do you truly believe you can solve this?"
"We're investigating on the council's orders," Aarin said evenly.
"Orders you're ill-equipped to follow." Riyan stopped in front of them, looking down with barely concealed disdain. "A mediocre reaper and some random ghost-lord. Quite the team."
"Are you questioning Aakash's judgement?" Nirvan asked coyly. "Perhaps you're suggesting he picked wrong when he chose us?"
Riyan's eyes narrowed, and his expression soured. "You're eager to be killed, aren't you?"
"Empty threats." Nirvan moved closer to the god, but Aarin grabbed his arm and shook his head furiously. The ghost-lord looked at him and didn't take another step forward.
"Yes, listen to him," Riyan sneered. "At least one of you has some sense-"
"Lord Riyan. Is there something wrong?"
A figure stood in the now-open doorway of the Archives. It was a man of average height with warm brown skin and short black hair. He wore deep indigo robes like a clear night sky, and his eyes were soft and kind. He met Aarin's gaze and smiled. It was Hita, the Heavenly Archivist.
"No," Riyan huffed and turned away. Clearly, causing a problem with spectators, especially one like Hita, was more trouble than it was worth to the god.
As the deity huffed away, Hita walked down the steps to greet Aarin, holding the reaper's hands.
"It's been quite some time since your last visit, Aarin," Hita hummed. "How have you been?"
"Busy with work," Aarin nodded, "but good otherwise. I hope the heavens have been treating you kindly as well."
He could feel Nirvan's gaze on him. When he looked over his shoulder to see, he realized Nirvan was watching their cordial handshake like it was a mildly offensive gesture.
"We apologize for the disturbance," Nirvan muttered and gently hooked his arm with Aarin's. He stared at the ghost lord in surprise. That's strange…
Hita looked between the two of them and quickly let go of Aarin's hand, laughing awkwardly.
"It's alright, it's alright, the corruption has everyone on edge." The archivist waved Nirvan's cold apology off. "Enough talk. Come, come, I'm sure you have much to do."
The space inside the Cloud-riding Archives was impossibly vast. Shelves stretched up so high the ladders would take minutes to climb. Corridors branched off in every direction, and the air was thick with the scent of old wood and leaves that the pages were made of.
"Yes, it is bigger on the inside than outside," Hita told Nirvan proudly. The archivist always had a habit of rambling, Aarin remembered fondly. The ghost lord, however, didn't look nearly as endeared, and held Aarin a bit closer to himself instead.
"Fascinating." Nirvan didn't sound all that fascinated.
"It's all thanks to Kavya." Hita didn't notice Nirvan's obvious mood. "He built this place when he was just a new god. I'm sure you've heard all about it though. Sorry, haha, I get too excited over new visitors. You barely see fresh faces here, just the gods and their closest companions… not that I'm complaining! Ah, ignore me, feel free to look around! I'll be at my desk if you need help."
A lotus pond, golden palace, marble road… Aarin tried to remember the visions he'd seen after cleansing Yethra. That was the only way forward. Even if not to fix the corruption, he owed this much to the priestess, her soul having spent so long lost and broken, waiting for peace.
"How do you even find anything here?" Nirvan grumbled as they sifted through random books.
Aarin shrugged. "You pray. I guess it'd be good to start with the geography section."
"Whatever you say," Nirvan hummed and walked over, standing closer than normal. Is he… jealous?
Aarin couldn't help the amused little smile on his face. Ah, you immature brat.
They searched through through book after book until a sizeable pile had collected on the table beside them, but nothing fit right.
"I guess I'll have to bother Hita once again," Aarin sighed softly. At the mention of the Archivist's name, Nirvan looked up comically fast.
"We can do this on our own," he insisted. "And besides, I don't like him."
Aarin raised an eyebrow and leaned forward."Why? Is it because we're old friends."
"Why would I care about that?" Nirvan did not move away. "I just don't think he's trustworthy. Something about those eyes… they're familiar."
"You only feel like you know him because you must've been amazing friends in a past life." Aarin grabbed Nirvan's arm and walked over to where the Archivist was at a big table at the very end of the hallway.
"Hita," Aarin called, shooting Nirvan a glance. "What does a lotus pond, gold palace, and marble road remind you of?"
"Huh? Oh, hm." Hita tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Of exuberance, luxury, beauty-"
"He means a specific location," Nirvan cut the Archivist off rather rudely. Hita didn't seem to mind, only a little sheepish at misunderstanding the question.
"Ah, well, it's obvious isn't it? Only the city of Soryan has a palace of gold as far as I know. Aside from the ones here, of course," Hita added. Aarin and Nirvan looked at each other.
He was slowly connecting the dots. The priestess had been a worshipper of Aakash. And Aakash was the patron god of Soryan.
"Has there been any news of abnormal spiritual activity near Soryan?" Aarin asked, leaning on the table curiously. Hita hummed, looking through some pages on the desk, and held one up.
"Ivara!" he exclaimed. "It's a village nearby, desolate and rather creepy if you ask me. It's been abandoned for a few years. We don't know what the cause was, though… I guess the Bookkeeper would know more-" He cut himself off after mentioning her name, face turning a deep shade of red.
Aarin nodded and continued for the sake of not embarrassing the poor, flustered man, bowing respectfully. It was old news that Hita fancied the Bookkeeper. Unfortunate, really, he didn't believe the soft-hearted, good-natured Archivist would stand a chance against that mischievous devil of a woman.
"Thank you for your help, Hita."
The Archivist laughed nervously, "It's alright, we must take care of each other! In times like this, a little help can go a long way."
Nirvan muttered a quiet thank you as well as they both waved goodbye and left the Cloud-riding Archives.