"They’ve delayed us again," Galley muttered, her boots crunching over the gravel. "Not tomorrow. It’s the day after."
They were already on their way to find out why the journey had been canceled. There had to be a reason."Guess we should go speak to Mela," Galley added. "She might know how."
"No, she won’t," Yamin said quickly, her voice firm. "She’s loyal to Jasmine. Maybe she doesn’t even know herself."
They walked quietly for a while, heading toward the chamber where Jasmine stayed. They were going to seek answers. Something felt off, and neither of them liked being left out.
Back at the cave
Skyler tied her hair back and crouched beside the fire pit. "Hand me the herbs," she said.
Elsie passed her a bunch of dried wild leaves Gabby had gathered earlier. Together, they worked on a simple meal: grilled root slices with dried meat and a spicy sauce made from crushed red seeds. A thick porridge bubbled gently in a clay pot.
The warm smell of food filled the cave. It brought some peace.
When it was done, Elsie scooped a portion into a wooden bowl and placed it on a tray.
"I’ll take this to Tony," she said, wiping her hands on her clothes.
She walked over to where Tony usually rested, but the spot was empty.
She stood still for a second, confused.
Then it hit her. "Maybe… Gabby’s place?" she whispered.
But she quickly doubted herself. "I don’t think he’d have the courage to be in her room..."
She stayed there, thinking.
"Then again… maybe time has changed him."
She turned toward the direction of Gabby’s space.
But halfway there, she slowed down. Something inside her hesitated.
I don’t want to interrupt them, she thought. Let them be free.
With a soft sigh, she turned around and walked back to the fire pit, still holding the tray.
Skyler spotted her at once.
"Why are you back with this? It’s for him. Take it," she said, raising an eyebrow.
Elsie set the tray on the table. "He’s not there. He’s in Gabby’s room."
Skyler blinked. "What did you say? In her room?"
Elsie nodded. "Yeah, but probably they’re just talking. That’s what I think."
"I don’t think it’s more either," Skyler said with a playful look. "But wow, I guess he’s healed enough to walk to her room."
Elsie laughed. "Looks like it."
They both chuckled softly. Then Skyler said, "Let’s just leave them. For now."
Back at Z12’s study
Z12 brushed his fingers over dusty scrolls and old books. The candlelight flickered as he turned another page.
Everything he found pointed to the same truth.
Everything seemed to lead to Gabby.
Earlier that day, he had gone to the Counselor and asked about the strange marks on Gabby’s upper back, just below her shoulders. He had asked if the Counselor had ever seen anything like them.
The Counselor had paused, then nodded.
"Yes," he said. "Those marks were used to track her. That’s how the Commander found her again. The person who tried to assassinate the King had those same marks. The King himself testified that he saw them."
Z12’s thoughts began to spin. Now everything was clear. If Gabby had those marks, there was a high chance she was the one.
"She is the bearer of the Great Oparsin," he thought to himself. "The last of the Majhi line. Those marks are royal. She is fit to be Queen."
It made sense now. Her strength, her will, her strange connection to powers long forbidden. Her destiny had been right in front of them all this time.And yet...
"She tried to kill the King," Z12 whispered. "Or... did she?"
He frowned.
He didn’t know anymore.
What if she didn’t?
He grabbed a clean scroll and dipped his quill in ink.If there was even a small chance that Gabby had been framed or tricked, he had to find the truth.
And this time, he would do it alone.
He planned to uncover the truth behind it all.
Back in Z12’s lab
The candle had burned low, its flame flickering with exhaustion, just like him. Z12 flipped through the brittle pages of a faded record, his brows furrowed and fingers smudged with ink.
His mind kept circling back to Gabby.
What if she was innocent?
What if the girl they had all suspected wasn’t the one?
The deeper he read, the more unsettled he became. Reports conflicted. One guard had claimed to see a figure fleeing the palace that night, but what if her height and build didn’t match Gabby’s at all?
Still, she had the marks. The symbols. The lineage.But what if she had been replaced? Switched with the real attacker at the last moment?
That thought jolted through his mind like a spark. He sat still, stunned by it, then shook his head.
No... it can’t be. It’s just...
He stopped himself mid-thought.
His instincts, sharpened through years of quiet observation and strategy, kicked in.
Never say impossible, he reminded himself. That word had killed more truths than lies ever did.
Z12 leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. His mind raced, connecting names, events, people. The healer who vanished. The broken seal in the royal prison. The soldier who died before testifying.
It was all too clean. Too fast. Too staged.
What if Gabby wasn’t the one they were supposed to catch?
But something still tugged at Z12’s mind, and this time, it would not let go.
He needed more than theory. He needed facts. Records buried deep beneath layers of red tape and time. And there was only one place that held the kind of archives he needed access to.
With purpose in his stride, he made his way through the inner corridors of the palace, ascending the steps that led to Jasmine’s private quarters.
When the guards at her door saw him, they straightened instantly and stepped aside without question. Z12's reputation carried weight. He was no ordinary advisor. He was respected. Trusted. Feared, even, by those who truly understood his mind.
Inside, Jasmine sat by the window, reading a velvet-bound scroll. She glanced up at him, surprised but calm.
"You rarely come here unannounced, Acarias," she said, setting the scroll aside. "What do you need?"
He gave a polite nod, his voice clear and direct. "I need your permission to investigate something further. It involves access to the restricted records."
Jasmine arched a brow but did not press. "I trust your judgment. Whatever it is, take what you need."
She gestured toward her desk, where a golden seal sat in wait.
He bowed slightly. "Thank you."
With the seal in hand, he descended to the records vault beneath the palace. It was a sealed place, quiet and untouched, where only a few had the authority to enter. When he arrived, the keepers of the room hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing the seal, they unlocked the heavy iron doors.
As they swung open, a rush of cool air escaped, carrying with it the scent of dust, ink, and old parchment. Shelves lined the chamber walls, filled with ancient scrolls, bound ledgers, and forgotten accounts.
Z12 stepped inside, his eyes narrowing with focus.
He searched shelf after shelf, running his fingers along faded spines and reading names carved in old languages. His hands moved over ledgers bound in hardened leather and scrolls tied with silken thread.
He was not looking for common criminal reports.
He was looking for assassin records. Silent killers. The ones trained to vanish. The ones who left no trace.
Then he saw it.
A narrow black journal marked with a sigil no longer in use. Its cover was worn, the leather cracked with age. When he opened it, the handwriting inside was sharp and precise. It listed names, targets, and detailed tactics. And on the third page, a note made his pulse quicken.
He gathered that book and three others containing similar information and left the vault without hesitation.
Back in the lab
The books arrived at his desk soon after. He cleared the space, lit the main lamp, and opened the journal again, laying it beside .Gabby’s arrest records.
Z12 studied both closely. The candle beside him hissed in the silence, casting long shadows across the parchment.
His eyes returned to the page he couldn’t ignore. He frowned, then turned to the next sheet—a weathered scroll attached to the journal. It contained a description of the assassin from an anonymous royal guard's account.
Blonde hair. Dim silver eyes. Tall frame. A faint scar near the collarbone. Beautiful, yes, but in a colder, distant kind of way.
Z12 blinked.
That wasn’t Gabby.
Gabby had black hair. Her eyes were bright, golden-brown, not dim or silver. She wasn’t particularly tall. He was sure of that. He had seen her in the healing quarters with her back exposed after the forest ambush.
The only thing she shared with the description was her beauty and the mark below her shoulder bone. But that mark meant something.
He turned back to Gabby’s file. The mark. That was the entire foundation of the accusation. A symbol once known to belong to the ancient Majhi bloodline.
Z12 leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, his mind racing.
This was no mistake.
Someone wanted the real assassin to disappear and needed a believable face to take the fall.
Gabby had just enough resemblance to make it seem possible, but the differences were too clear to ignore once you looked close enough.
She had been set up. Chosen. Used.
He sat forward again, gripping the table as a cold realization settled over him.
This wasn’t just about Gabby anymore.
This was about whoever had orchestrated the deception. Someone powerful. Someone who knew how to bend the truth until it broke.
Z12 reached for a fresh scroll.
He had work to do.
And this time, he would dig until every lie was burned down to the root.
Of course! Here's a brief, refined version that smoothly links back to the story:
He returned to the other journals he had brought from the vault. As he flipped it open, something caught his eye.....This was what he found inside.......