The Black Haus

Chapter 4: The Hall of Forgotten Names

The air beyond the doors was heavy and damp, clinging to their skin like a shroud. Renault tightened his grip on his sword, his steps echoing in the oppressive silence. Mara walked beside him, her eyes scanning the endless corridor of black stone that stretched ahead. The faint glow of her lantern barely cut through the gloom.

Edric strolled behind them, unhurried, his demeanor maddeningly calm. "You're quiet," he remarked. "Second thoughts already?"

Mara ignored him, her focus fixed on the carvings that lined the walls. Rows upon rows of names were etched into the stone, each one painstakingly precise. The further they walked, the older the names became, the letters shifting into unfamiliar scripts and forgotten tongues.

Renault ran a hand over one of the carvings. "What is this place?"

Edric's voice was almost cheerful. "The Hall of Forgotten Names. Every soul that has passed through the Haus is recorded here."

Renault frowned. "You mean everyone who died here."

Edric's smile didn't falter. "Is there a difference?"

The words hung in the air, but before Renault could respond, a faint sound broke the silence—a soft, rhythmic tapping, like footsteps echoing in the distance.

Mara stopped, her body tensing. "Do you hear that?"

Renault nodded, his grip on his sword tightening. The sound was growing louder, drawing closer, and with it came a sense of unease that crawled under their skin.

Edric stepped past them, his expression thoughtful. "Ah, I was wondering when it would notice us."

"What?" Mara hissed. "What's coming?"

Edric glanced over his shoulder. "The Archivist."

Before they could question him further, the tapping stopped. For a moment, the corridor was deathly silent. Then, from the shadows ahead, a figure emerged.

It was tall and gaunt, draped in tattered robes that trailed along the floor. Its face was obscured by a mask of bone, carved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly in the darkness. In its hands, it carried a long staff, its tip crowned with a dimly glowing crystal.

"The Archivist keeps the records," Edric said softly. "And ensures no one tampers with them."

Renault took a step back, his instincts screaming danger. "It doesn't look friendly."

"It isn't."

The Archivist raised its head, the runes on its mask flaring with sudden light. A voice echoed through the corridor, deep and resonant, though its mask did not move.

"Who dares disturb the Hall?"

Renault opened his mouth to respond, but Mara silenced him with a sharp gesture. "Let me handle this," she whispered.

She stepped forward, her voice steady. "We mean no harm. We're only passing through."

The Archivist tilted its head, the runes dimming slightly. "You carry the marks of the Haus. You are not mere trespassers."

Mara swallowed hard. "We were called here. We don't know why."

The Archivist was silent for a moment, its head tilting as though listening to something they couldn't hear. Finally, it spoke. "The Haus has its reasons, though it rarely shares them."

Its gaze—or what passed for it—shifted to Renault. "The exile carries the scent of betrayal."

Renault stiffened. "What does that mean?"

The Archivist ignored him, turning its attention to Mara. "The warden returns. But will you endure, as you once did, or falter beneath the weight of failure?"

Mara's jaw clenched, but she didn't respond.

Finally, the Archivist turned to Edric. "And you."

Edric's smile faltered for the first time. "What about me?"

The Archivist's voice was colder now. "The shadow in human skin. Do you still serve the Haus, or have you forgotten your purpose?"

Edric said nothing, his expression unreadable.

After a tense silence, the Archivist lowered its staff. "You may pass. But know this—your names may yet find their place upon these walls."

With that, it stepped aside, melting into the shadows as though it had never been there.

---

As they continued down the corridor, Renault glanced at Mara. "What did it mean, 'failure'?"

She didn't meet his gaze. "It doesn't matter."

Renault frowned but didn't press her. Instead, he turned his attention to Edric. "And what about you? What's your purpose here?"

Edric smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "That's a story for another time."

The corridor ended abruptly, opening into a vast chamber. At its center stood a massive door, its surface covered in sigils that glowed faintly in the dim light.

Renault approached it cautiously. "What's on the other side?"

Edric's smile returned, sharper than before. "Something you're not ready for."

The sigils flared brighter, and the door began to creak open.