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the other was smiling. His robe was also separated, one side black and one side white.

She recognized the regalia and knew the man. Claiming they were friends was a step too far, but she doubted he was planning to kill her anytime soon.

Lyssa bowed her head. “I, Lyssa Corti, bearer of the Night Goddess, greet you, Takeo Takeshi, bearer of the Unbalanced Twins, and request entry to the Vault of Dreams to inspect the Northern Trickster. I have been granted permission by the Tribunal in this matter.”

“Your request is granted.” He set off down another hallway and motioned for her to follow. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Lyssa. I only wish you had returned under more pleasant circumstances.”

Lyssa jogged until she was beside Takeo. He was far older than her but not formally an Elder. More importantly, he wasn’t overly concerned about protocol. That would make her little inspection a lot less painful.

“It’s not like most people visit the Vault of Dreams all that often,” she said.

“That’s true,” he replied. “If it weren’t for the other vault tenders, I might go entire days without speaking to anyone.” He let out a quiet laugh. “I must admit I find that not unappealing. It’s peaceful here.”

“Yeah, my job involves a lot more talking and loud noises,” Lyssa replied. “And a lot more cursing.”

“You don’t have to be a Torch for the rest of your days.”

“No, but I like it. It’ll be a long time before I decide to hang up my guns. I guess we all end up where we need to be.”

Takeo nodded. “That’s a good attitude to have.”

They continued in silence for a few minutes before he stopped in front of a blue wall and pulled a crystalline key out of his pocket. After some whispered Lemurian, the key began to glow.

The wall pulled apart with a rumble to reveal another hallway, and they continued walking. They’d entered the Vault proper.

Masked Shadows in gray and black uniforms stood in the new corridor, swords or halberds in hand. Their uniforms and their weapons radiated sorcery. They stood rigidly, not looking at or acknowledging the advance of the two Illuminated in their midst.

With their extensive training and shard weapons, they might have a chance if they surprised an invader, but everyone accepted they were there more to alert the vault tenders than to stop anyone who dared violate the closest thing the Illuminated Society had to a holy site.

Takeo opened another hidden passage. The number of guards decreased in the new section. Highly stylized glowing Lemurian words were spaced evenly near the tops of the walls.

Lyssa took note of the words. Terrible Flower, Unstoppable Gladiator, Sky Queen, Protector of Children, Angry Wolf. Different regalia.

She passed more names as they continued into another passage. There were dozens of regalia in each.

From what Lyssa knew, the vault tenders memorized the layout of the Vault of Dreams, a tedious and lengthy process considering there were over ten thousand regalia inside. Never before had a situation cried out so loudly for a good spreadsheet, even if the vault tenders used special shards to help. One long-time tender had a memory essence, but it could only do so much to help the others.

What had it been like in the past? Rumors and legends stated there used to be hundreds of thousands of regalia, most perishing with the fall of Lemuria. All the power and potential in the Vault of Dreams represented a fraction of their lost glory.

The secrets of regalia manufacture had also been lost with Lemuria. Thousands of years of research had produced nothing useful other than confirming that the regalia were the result of a complex tapestry of different types of sorcery.

Regalia lay at the heart of the Illuminated Society. Without their amplifying power, sorcery would be a gimmick, not a powerful tool wielded by a chosen few.

The hard limit on available regalia raised another concern. The current Illuminated population was roughly one-fifth of the available number of regalia, which meant there was a guarantee of at least one regalia for every Sorcerer or Sorceress who came of age.

What would happen in the future when their supply ran out? They hadn’t figured out how to make new regalia in ten thousand years, and although most survived the deaths of their bearers, that wasn’t always the case. Given recent trends, continued Illuminated population growth could run up against the limit in decades or centuries rather than millennia.

That might be pessimistic. Lyssa suspected her people would do what the Shadows had done: wait until necessity forced them to learn how to do something they should have done a long time ago. She wasn’t going to worry about it. It wasn’t something she could help with.

“May I ask you a question, Takeo?” she asked.

“You may, and I’ll do my best to answer it,” he replied.

“Are you sure the Northern Trickster is real?” Lyssa asked. “Were you there when it came back? Someone could have planted it.”

Takeo replied, “I don’t need to see it appear there with my own eyes. It was detected in the inspection of all currently bound regalia, and it’s extremely unlikely someone could plant a fake regalia in the Vault of Dreams, given our protections and defenses.”

“Extremely unlikely isn’t the same thing as impossible.”

“A meteor could come out of the sky and strike the Heart of Remnant.” Takeo turned her way. “It’s extremely unlikely to the point that we have no defenses against it.”

Lyssa sighed. She understood where he was coming from, but she’d traveled a long way. Even before the attack on Lee, she’d wanted to make the trip. She needed to make sure it was worth it, even if she discomforted people along the way.

“And you don’t think it’s strange that it took so long?” she asked. All she needed was one small irregularity to keep hope alive. Takeo was her best bet.

“Of course, it’s strange,” he replied. “But I don’t think it’s impossible. Although there haven’t been any

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