I stood beneath the relatively narrow shelf labeled Unique Talent Records III.

This was the first Talent-related thing I had found in this part of the archive, so my entire reason for requesting this visit pretty much hinged on it. I would love to say that I had high hopes for it, but in my mind, I was just about ready to pack up the losses and head back to my dorm.

Most of the things stored here weren’t even labeled. Some weren’t books at all, just scrolls lying around or loose stacks of paper bundled together like someone dropped it in and forgot about it halfway through filling it.

My confidence was slipping away with each second.

I reached for the closest scroll and carefully loosened the thread holding it together before unrolling it before me. My eyes skimmed across the contents, reading its text, analyzing the diagrams, all that. 

When I found nothing of interest, I would immediately move on to the next, but every time I finished with something, I made sure to be extra careful when putting it back. 

I doubted the royal archives had some sort of fingerprint detection spell, but if anyone noticed the scrolls or books were even slightly out of place, I’d probably have some explaining to do. 

So every time I returned something, I paused for a second, adjusted the angle, tied the string another way, all to match the image of the shelf I had memorized before ransacking it.

A few minutes passed like that as I went through books after papers after scrolls.

Most of them contained diagrams of Talent Symbols, some of them crudely drawn, others copied with surprising precision. Alongside many of them were notes written in varying quality of handwriting, mostly in the “rough” range. Probably from scholars analyzing Talent symbols.

I did find a few noteworthy ones, mostly on records with symbols that had the notes Unique or Unrecognizable beside them. This was the Unique Talent Records section of the archive, after all… or at least one part of it.

The notes and analysis the scholars wrote on these records gave me some insight on how Talent recognition works. 

Through arguing.

No, seriously. In over half of these records, I had read way, waaaay, too many back-and-forth notes between scholars debating what a symbol meant, which one they should correlate the most to, and if the symbol really was a unique symbol or if someone was drunk when analyzing it the first time.

When I looked at those symbols myself, though… I could still get the general meaning behind them. It was all vibes, really. Another hint that Carine’s eyes weren’t normal.

I frowned slightly and moved on to the next record.

The thing was, most of the documents here were old. Like, old, old.

Some of the ink had faded to the point where entire sentences were missing, but I could still read them just fine if I held it up to any light source. In a few cases, though, the paper was missing half of its body.

Even with my eyes, as awesome or freaky as they were, I couldn’t read some of these documents.

It didn’t look like proper preservation had been done here in quite some time, or perhaps they had more updated copies somewhere else? Either way, this was a hindrance I couldn’t really do anything about for now.

Another thing started bothering me after a while.

Most of the names written in these records didn’t sound like they were from Setus. By that, I mean their family names didn’t end with some variation of “-eid.” 

These are Talent records of foreigners, aren’t they?

With each discovery, the less reliable this shelf seemed to be.

Scroll after scroll.

Book after book.

Each one carefully opened, skimmed, and then meticulously returned to its exact original position.

I would at times take a step back and admire my efforts. If someone, even me, would take a look at this shelf, they wouldn’t even notice anything was moved, aside from missing dust here and there, but no one would look that closely, would they?

…They wouldn’t, would they?

After tying and placing another bundle of papers back into its slot, I paused and glanced toward the railings again.

The prince was still sitting where I’d last seen him, in the exact same position as before, a book covering his face. Though this time, I could hear the slight sound of snoring, a really forced one.

It was either that he had a bad snoring habit, or he was selling it too much. With him, it could go either way.

…Alright then.

I turned back to the shelf and began my silent hunt again.

Records after records passed through my eyes. Some contained nothing but incomplete diagrams. Others were filled with long-winded debates between scholars who clearly wanted to join a debate club. A few were eaten away by time entirely.

Still, I kept going.

Then I found one that immediately felt… different.

It was near the bottom of a stack of paper records, wedged hard between the others. The paper didn’t have the color of aging as most of the others did, but being stored like this had definitely caused some damage, enough to feel like it might turn to dust if I fold it even slightly.

Like many of the other records, there wasn’t much to read… Literally. 

But once my eyes hit the surviving contents, I connected the dots… and I froze.

It was a record. A short, single-paged one.

There was one.

One person recorded to have been born with only two Talent Symbols.

The diagram had been drawn on a section of the paper that time had already claimed by the passage of time, and the ruthless sandwiching of papers. But pieces and corners of them were still visible, and one of them… looked familiar.

It had the same shape, the same curves, the same cut-off at the edge… 

My mysterious Talent Symbols…

I stared at that surviving corner of the page for a moment longer. 

My eyes quickly scanned the paper for any trace of the person this record belonged to. But all I found were notes, something along the lines of:

“Our request to ask for permission to research was denied.”

“Must seize fervent requests immediately.”

It didn’t reveal much about the identity. Then, I carefully held the paper to the light, hoping there was some remnants of the ink that would reveal more, at least a name I could follow. Unfortunately, there was no name to be read.

However, something else popped up. Numbers, or more specifically, a date of the record.

It was dated roughly twenty-two years ago.

I stood there in silence. 

I wasn’t alone in this world.

Someone out there, in Setus or not, had the same Talent Symbol as mine. 

Were they a transmigrator too?

Were they stuck in two bodies like me? 

Maybe even three?

I didn’t know anything at all, but knowing that someone with a similar Talent to the both of me was out there, it made me feel… less alone.

A large yawn suddenly echoed from the lower floor.

The sound carried easily through the open space of the archive.

I froze for half a second before slowly turning my head toward the railing.

Oh, right. The prince.

That was probably his way of signaling me that my free roam was over.

Assuming I wasn’t reading too deeply into it, that is.

I clicked my tongue and took the hint. 

I safely and securely returned the fragile paper to its original place, sandwiching it once more with the others. I nudged every single paper and book until absolutely everything looked exactly the same as before I came here.

I gave the shelf one final glance before I finally turned on my heels and quietly began making my way back.

Though I hadn’t found any real answers, I had found something else. A clue.

Whoever that person was, they existed. The record stated that their Talent had been examined twenty-two years ago. That alone narrowed things down.

If the person had been nobility, then their Talent evaluation would have likely taken place when they were a child. One to four years old, give or take. Add twenty-two years to that, and that meant the person would now be somewhere around twenty-three to twenty-six years old.

The record was found on a shelf full of foreign names, so it was probably safe to assume that, whoever this person was, they weren’t from Setus at all. 

And frankly…

One face came to mind.

I descended the steps as silently as I had climbed them. Before long, I managed to reach the ground floor again. I walked past the rows of shelves where old family history continued to lie unread, until the reading area came into view.

Almost on cue, the Third Prince shifted in his chair. The book that had been resting on his face slid down slightly as he stretched and let out a quiet groan, rubbing his eyes like someone who had just “woken up,”

“Oh, hey, Carine,” he said lazily, his voice still drowsy. “Found what you’re looking for?”

I gave a small nod. “Yes. It’s been a fruitful visit.”

“Glad to hear it…” he said faintly before forcing another yawn. Then, one of his eyes cracked open just a little. “You… made sure to put things back to where they belong, yes?”

The way he asked that…

I nodded again. “Down to the angles.”

For a brief moment, he continued staring at me, his expression still half-drowsy. Then, the act faded. His sleepy face slowly gave way to his usual smirk as he stretched his arms overhead and stood up from the chair.

“Well then,” he said lightly, brushing off his sleeves, “now that you’re satisfied, let’s head back!”

He didn’t even wait for my response before turning toward the exit.

I followed a moment later, matching his pace as we walked past the reading tables and toward the heavy doors leading out.

Honestly…

The whole situation felt a little strange the more I thought about it.

He had put in the effort to take me this deep into the Royal Archives. The knight who had escorted us earlier had been casually dismissed the moment we entered. And when I wandered off to the upper floors, he just went to “sleep.”

Either he was incredibly careless, or he was deliberately pretending not to notice. Neither explanation made any sense, really. But the end result was the same.

He had “allowed” me to search to my heart’s content without interference, which meant that, in a roundabout way, he had helped me. Even though he didn’t know the full story behind why I needed access to those records.

I glanced briefly at the back of his swaying blonde hair as he walked a few steps ahead of me.

Maybe I had been a little too harsh on him.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought.

We were almost at the door when he slowed down slightly. “Now that my side of the deal is done,” he began casually, glancing over his shoulder, “what say we make another deal—”

“—No, thank you.”

Okay. Judging someone too quickly is a sin. Noted.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep