Sharon led Evan and Zander away from the profound stillness of the Starry Dome, back through the ancient corridors. The air still hummed with the residual energy of the awakened sigils and the Headmaster's decree. Evan felt the weight of expectation settle upon him, heavier than before, yet intertwined with a thrilling sense of purpose. The search for a worthy instrument began now.
The Instrument Vaults were not located in the main academic wings, but deep within the fortified foundations of the oldest part of the Institute. Sharon navigated a series of descending passages guarded by increasingly complex magical wards and stoic, armored sentinels whose eyes glowed faintly with enchanted sight. Finally, they reached a pair of colossal doors crafted from dark, iridescent metal – Starsteel, Sharon named it – etched with intricate patterns depicting musical instruments from across Aerion's history. The air here was cool, dry, and thick with the scent of aged wood, rare resins, and potent enchantments.
Sharon placed her palm on a central sigil. The doors resonated with a deep, musical chime and swung inwards silently, revealing a cavernous space that stole Evan's breath.
The Milan Institute's Instrument Vault was a cathedral dedicated to sound. Row upon row of towering shelves, crafted from polished, magically preserved woods, stretched into the dimly lit distance. Each shelf held instruments of breathtaking beauty and staggering power. Evan saw harps carved from luminous moonwood, their strings humming with captured starlight; drums fashioned from the hides of legendary beasts, their surfaces pulsing with contained thunder; flutes made of crystal that seemed to hold frozen melodies within; and lutes inlaid with precious stones that shimmered with elemental energy.
But his gaze was drawn inevitably to the zithers. An entire section was dedicated to them. Guqins of every conceivable size and style rested on velvet-lined stands: instruments made from ancient, resonant woods like Phoenix Perch or Thunderstruck Oak; zithers inlaid with mother-of-pearl depicting celestial scenes; others bound with silver filigree humming with frost magic, or strung with strings spun from Mithril or even, legendarily, Dragon tendon.
Sharon gestured expansively. "The collected heritage of musical mastery, Evan. Instruments crafted by Grandmasters, enchanted by Archmages, wielded by heroes and sages. Each possesses unique resonance, unique power. Test them. Seek the one that harmonizes with your Heart Core." Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. "The wards will allow you to handle them safely. Play a few notes. Feel their song."
Evan stepped forward, his Innocent Heart Core humming softly in anticipation. He approached the first guqin, a beautiful instrument made of dark, swirling Zitan wood. He ran his fingers lightly over the strings. A rich, warm tone emanated, deep and grounding. He played a simple scale. The sound was powerful, resonant with earth magic, but it felt... solid, unyielding. It didn't sing with the purity he sought. He moved on.
Next was a smaller guqin crafted from pale, almost translucent Jade Bamboo. Its notes were crisp, clear, and incredibly fast, carrying a sharp, cutting edge like wind through reeds. Agile, precise, but lacking the depth for the profound resonance he needed. He tried others: a fiery guqin bound in red metal whose notes sparked with contained lightning; a serene instrument carved from blue coral that evoked ocean depths; a complex zither with extra strings that produced haunting harmonic overtones.
Each was magnificent. Each was a masterpiece. Yet, as he played a few notes on each, he felt a disconnect. Their power was undeniable, but their inherent songs, while beautiful, didn't resonate with the fundamental, pure frequency of the Innocent Heart Core. They felt like specialized tools, not extensions of his own spirit.
A flicker of disappointment began to creep in. Had the Sovereigns truly been irreplaceable? Was there nothing here that could match their profound connection to his cultivation?
He wandered deeper into the vault, Zander a silent shadow behind him, his amethyst eyes scanning the surroundings with watchful intensity. Evan reached a slightly less crowded section, perhaps housing instruments considered more experimental or historically significant but less immediately powerful. His gaze swept over a zither made of petrified wood, another strung with iridescent spider silk... and then stopped.
Tucked away on a lower shelf, partially obscured by a larger, more ornate harp, was a guqin. It wasn't the most visually stunning. Its wood was a deep, rich brown, polished to a soft sheen, but unadorned by intricate carvings or precious stones. Its shape was classic, elegant in its simplicity. But it was the feel of it that arrested Evan. Even from a few feet away, he felt a subtle pull, a quiet hum that resonated deep within his core. It felt... familiar. Terribly, heartbreakingly familiar.
He stepped closer, his breath catching. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly, and brushed the wood. It was warm. Not from magic, but from an innate, living resonance. He knew this grain. He knew the exact curve of the headstock. He knew the faint, almost imperceptible swirl in the lacquer near the seventh string position – a flaw Quentin had always said gave it character.
Impossible. Utterly impossible.
With reverent, disbelieving hands, he lifted it from the shelf. It was lighter than he remembered, yet the balance was perfect. He turned it over. And there, etched near the dragon's pool cavity in Quentin's distinctive, flowing script, were the characters: 九霄玉佩 - Nine Heavens Jade Pendant.
The Nine Heavens Jade Pendant Zither. One of the five lost Sovereigns. It was here. In the vault of the Milan Institute.
Shock, disbelief, and a surge of fierce, protective joy warred within him. "It... it can't be..." he whispered, clutching the instrument to his chest. The connection was instantaneous, profound. The Heart Core sang, recognizing its lost voice. The zither seemed to hum in response, a soft, welcoming vibration.
Sharon, noticing his intense focus, approached. "You found one that calls to you? That one? It's an interesting piece, acquired years ago from a... troubled source. Its resonance is unique, very pure, but considered somewhat limited in elemental affinity compared to others. Are you certain?"
Evan barely heard her. His mind raced. How? How did it get here? The beggar boy in Roll City... the theft... it ended up here? He looked up at Sharon, his eyes blazing with a mixture of elation and fierce determination. "This is mine," he stated, his voice thick with emotion. "It was stolen from me in Roll City. This is one of the Sovereigns – the Nine Heavens Jade Pendant Zither."
Sharon's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Stolen? And ended up in our vault? That is... highly irregular." Her sharp mind was already working, connecting possibilities. "The acquisition logs will need to be checked. This raises serious questions about provenance and security..." She trailed off, her gaze fixed on Evan's face, seeing the absolute certainty there. "But... if it resonates with you so powerfully..."
Before she could finish, a voice, light, melodious, and laced with a hint of mocking amusement, spoke from the shadows near the vault entrance.
"Troubled source? That's putting it mildly, Senior Sister Sharon. More like 'liberated from a naive little songbird who thought handing gold to street urchins was a good idea.'"
Evan and Sharon whirled. Zander had already shifted, his body coiling with sudden, predatory tension, his gaze locked onto the newcomer.
Leaning casually against a shelf of crystal flutes was a figure Evan recognized instantly, despite the cleaner clothes and the absence of grime. The delicate features, the large, bright eyes that now held not desperation but sharp intelligence and a challenging gleam, the surprisingly slender frame – it was the beggar boy from Roll City. But now, clad in well-tailored, dark grey apprentice robes bearing the Institute's crest, with her silver-streaked dark hair neatly tied back, her true nature was unmistakable. She wasn't a boy at all. She was a girl, perhaps Evan's age, radiating an aura of sharp wit and latent, tightly controlled power. A faint green aura, subtle but potent, flickered around her clenched fist.
"Hello again, little thief," she said, her lips curving in a smirk directed straight at Evan. "Missed your precious toy?"