The air in the Instrument Vault crackled with sudden, volatile energy. Recognition slammed into Evan – the thin frame, the surprisingly delicate hands, the brief contact during the "assistance" that masked the theft. Fury, cold and sharp, warred with the profound relief of holding the Nine Heavens Jade Pendant again.
"You!" Evan's voice was tight, the Heart Core vibrating with righteous anger. "You stole it! You stole all of them! My Spatial Ring!"
The girl pushed off the shelf, her movements fluid and confident. "Stole is such a harsh word," she countered, her voice still light but with an underlying edge. "I... redistributed assets from someone clearly incapable of safeguarding them. Thirty gold pieces for a sob story? Honestly." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "You practically begged to be robbed."
Sharon stepped forward, her expression shifting from surprise to stern authority. "Luna! Explain yourself. Now. Is what Evan Young says true? Did you steal his instrument?"
The girl – Luna – shrugged, the gesture deliberately nonchalant, though her bright eyes never left Evan's face. "He gave me the gold willingly enough. The ring was just... opportunistic compensation for enduring his clumsy attempt at chivalry." She gestured towards the Nine Heavens Jade Pendant in Evan's hands. "And that thing? It was gathering dust in a pawnbroker's back room in Polis. I recognized its latent resonance. Seemed a shame to leave it there. The Institute's vault is a far more suitable home for such an artifact, don't you think?" Her gaze flickered to Sharon. "I submitted it through standard artifact acquisition channels, Senior Sister. Properly documented. Well, mostly."
"Mostly?" Sharon's voice was icy. "Acquisition channels require proof of legitimate ownership or clear provenance of abandonment. You falsified records."
Luna waved a dismissive hand. "Semantics. The point is, it's here now. Safeguarded. And clearly," she nodded towards Evan, "it found its way back to its... original owner. How touching." Her smirk returned. "Though I'd argue my intervention saved it from ending up melted down for scrap silver by some ignorant merchant."
Evan clutched the Nine Heavens Jade Pendant tighter, the familiar wood a grounding presence against the storm of emotions. "Where are the others? The Cry of the Phoenix? The Withered Wood Dragon's Chant? The Sage's Legacy Tone? The Spring Thunder?" Each name was a dagger of loss.
Luna's expression hardened slightly, the mockery fading. "Gone. Sold. Dispersed. A Spatial Ring full of unique, high-value magical artifacts attracts attention. I needed funds. Quickly. Travel isn't cheap, and tuition here is exorbitant." She met Evan's furious gaze without flinching. "Be glad you got this one back. Consider it a down payment on the lesson you so desperately needed: trust no one."
Zander took a single, silent step forward. The air around him grew dense, charged with a terrifying, primal pressure. His amethyst eyes, fixed on Luna, held no anger, only the cold, assessing promise of inevitable consequence. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The vault itself seemed to hold its breath.
Luna's confident posture faltered for a split second under that gaze. The faint green aura around her fist flared defensively. She forced her smirk back, though it looked strained. "Easy there, big fellow. Institute grounds. No violence allowed. Besides," she turned her attention back to Evan, her voice regaining its sharp edge, "you got what you wanted, didn't you? Entry to the Institute. Cassio's writ. Headmaster's attention. Even your precious zither back. All thanks to me setting things in motion." She spread her hands. "You're welcome."
The audacity took Evan's breath away. "Thanks to you? You robbed me! Left me stranded!"
"Stranded?" Luna laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Stranded builds character! Look at you now! Fought your way through bandits, impressed a Dragonrider, triggered ancient Founder magic! You'd still be strumming lullabies under your trees if I hadn't given you a push!" Her eyes narrowed, the playful facade cracking to reveal a glimpse of something harder, fiercer beneath. "The world isn't a gentle melody, Evan Young. It's a discordant symphony, and only the sharpest survive. I did you a favor."
Sharon stepped between them, her own aura flaring – a complex weave of intellectual power and disciplined control. "Enough! Luna, your actions are a gross violation of Institute conduct and possibly Imperial law. Falsifying acquisition records, theft... You will answer to the Disciplinary Council."
Luna rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me the lecture, Sharon. You know as well as I do the Council is toothless for someone with actual talent. And let's be honest," she gestured around the vault, "my 'acquisitions' have benefited the Institute's collections more than any dusty old donation drive." She turned back to Evan, her gaze locking onto his with surprising intensity. "But fine. Since you have your zither back, and you're clearly the Institute's new golden goose..." She paused, her voice dropping, losing its mocking edge, becoming almost serious. "I'll make you a deal, Evan Young."
Evan stared at her, wary. "What deal?"
"Help me," Luna said, the words simple, stark, and utterly unexpected. "Help me reclaim what was stolen from me. What was stolen from my family." Her large, bright eyes, usually filled with sharp amusement, now held a depth of raw pain and burning determination that was startlingly genuine. "Help me confront the man who destroyed everything... the man you know as your grandfather, Yale Leaf."
The words hit Evan like a physical blow. "Grandfather? Yale Leaf? What are you talking about?" Disbelief warred with a sudden, chilling dread. Yale Leaf? The gruff but fiercely protective Bamboo Sect Elder? A destroyer?
Luna met his shocked gaze, her own filled with a complex mixture of hatred, bitterness, and a desperate plea. "Yale Leaf," she repeated, the name dripping with venom. "The Butcher of the Verdant Vale. The man who murdered my father. Your help for the truth. That's the deal." She took a step closer, ignoring Zander's intensified glare. "Well, Evan Young? Do you want to know who your precious grandfather really is?"
The vault, filled with the echoes of countless instruments and ancient power, felt suddenly suffocating. Evan stood clutching the reclaimed Sovereign, the foundation of his world trembling under the weight of Luna's accusation. The path to mastering the Sovereign of Strings had just plunged into treacherous, shadowed territory.