by Isaac Winter
Lost Archive
Veilwalkers Book 1
Isaac Winter
Hero’s Journey Publishing
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Isaac’s Ramblings
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Isaac Winter
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For the LitRPG Society, who have been instrumental in helping this book get over the finish line.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/
For all my readers on RRL.
For Parker.
1
I was late to a party for a dead man. Well, not dead, exactly. And not really a party. One year ago today, Dr. Tobias Crane disappeared without a trace. Some said he was dead. Some said he simply got tired of academic life and ran off to begin a new life with a new identity. Me? I wasn't quite sure what to think.
The department decided to hold a sort of celebration in remembrance. I found this darkly funny, because no one really liked him when he was around. Always a weird sort of guy, spouting off these big ideas that no one took seriously. The weeks leading up to his departure were especially odd, if I remember. He kept blathering about runes and parallel dimensions and "levels", for some reason. We all said he'd cracked. Not to his face, of course. And then he was gone, without a trace. That's when the rumor mill really started.
I rushed across the corridors to the conference room, hoping my late arrival wouldn't be noticed.
Unfortunately, that hope was ill-placed.
"How nice of you to join us, Winston." The Director's reproachful voice boomed across the room and all eyes turned to look at me. "Thought maybe you'd disappeared on us as well."
Nervous laughter rang throughout the room. Poor taste, if you ask me. Making jokes about disappearing on the anniversary of a real disappearance was no laughing matter.
"We were just starting," The Director continued. "Please take your seat."
Smiling meekly, I sat down in the nearest chair. The sound of my chair echoed off the concrete walls, way too loud for my liking. I grimaced. Way to make an entrance. With a snap of the Director's fingers, the lights dimmed and the presentation began.
No one told me there was going to be a full-on lecture. It was billed as a party, dammit. Not some dreary memorial service. I shifted in my seat back and forth as the Director droned on, flipping through slide after slide about Dr. Crane's contributions to the Academy and his fateful disappearance just one year ago. I remembered that day all too well. It was a Tuesday, about as normal as any other Tuesday could be. Except for one thing: Dr. Crane hadn't shown up to work that morning, and the watchman in the library was found dead.
Some said Crane snapped and killed the watchman himself, fleeing the Academy as he did so. Some say he was kidnapped. Despite a lengthy police investigation, they never figured out the real culprit. There were too many strange factors, and too many things that didn't add up. The department had just come to accept that maybe they'd never know what really happened, but it still weighed heavily on everyone's mind. Or at least, it did on mine. After the incident, I made sure never to be in the library after dark, I can tell you that much.
"And that is why, on the one year anniversary of such a grievous occasion, we gather here not to mourn his death, but to celebrate his life and his contributions to our department. May we all remember him well."
With a click, the lights came back up and the projector screen retracted. I nearly jumped from my seat. Finally. My colleagues looked similarly bored, fidgeting with their collars or shuffling stacks of papers.
"Well, now that that's all over, what say you to a bit of celebration?" The Director asked, his mustache bristling as he broke a rare smile. "I've got a cake coming in from Lucene's Bakery, and--"
Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, the door flew open and our secretary Miss Rosamunde clambered in, her face white as a sheet. She doubled over, panting as she struggled to catch her breath. "Mr. Tanner, sir!" She coughed, clearing her throat. "I hate to interrupt, but it's an emergency!"
"What is it, Rosie?" The Director stood, closing the distance to her in a few long strides. "What's wrong?"
Miss Rosamunde straightened, wiping the stray tendrils of hair from her face. She caught her breath, but still looked terribly upset. I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good. "I was making my rounds, you know, just going around and collecting timesheets from everyone. I had all of them in hand except for Mabel’s, and bless her, she often forgets. I decided to go over to her office and remind her myself, but when I got there, I--" She stopped for a moment, eyes widening.
"What did you find?" Tanner pressed. "Out with it."
"She's gone!" Rosamunde wailed, burying her face in her hands. "I knocked on her door 'cause it was locked. I heard voices. I knew she was in there. I tried to call out to her. Then there was this flash of orange light, and the door flew open, and then...she was gone."
Pandemonium broke loose as everyone in the room started talking at once. Another disappearance? The chill set into my bones and didn't leave, no matter how much I shivered. This couldn't be happening. Mabel was so young, so nice. She wouldn't hurt a fly.
Not only was this disappearance sudden and unexpected, but on the anniversary of Crane's departure? No, this couldn't be a coincidence. Something weird was going on here. Rosie's account flashed through my head, a vision of fearful voices and orange light. She was gone.
Tanner frowned, taking her by the shoulder. "Take me to her office, now. The rest of you, stay here, don't move. We're putting the Academy on lockdown till we figure this one out. They won't get away this time." With a growl, he set off down the hall, Rosamunde in tow.
"You've got to be kidding me," Daly said, making for the door. Always the hothead. "He can't just keep us in here! What if we all vanish too? I'm going home!"
"Daly, wait!" Clarissa called, grabbing his sleeve. "We don't know what's out there."
"And you want me to sit here and wait for it to get us too? I'm getting out of here." He jerked his arm away and stomped out of the room.
I held my breath, trying to hold on to a sliver of sanity amidst the chaos. Everyone was talking, moving, shouting. Daly may have been a bit rash in his actions, but he was right. I didn't want to stay stuck here any more than he did. Clarissa pouted in a corner, Ray was shouting, and Marvin tapped away on his phone furiously. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine I was back in my cozy living room at home. I was warm, safe, surrounded by a warm blanket and a crackling fire in the fireplace. No one was missing, and no one was shouting in my ear.
It didn't work very well.
I eyed the clock, noting the time. Half past two. I resolved I'd stay for half an hour, if necessary. Wait till it all got sorted out. Then I'd head home. I didn't have any desire to get mixed up in this c
razy business. To me, the best course of action was to simply stay out of it. That's how I would stay safe. Not by throwing myself at danger like Daly so often did. Made my hair stand up on end to imagine what could be out there. What did Tanner expect to find, anyway?
For the time being, I decided, I'd simply have to wait. I pulled out a folder from my bag, set my reading glasses on my nose, and started working through the backlog of translations. Laurie brought them in weeks ago, and I'd been so caught up with other obligations I'd completely neglected them. Much to her displeasure, of course. Now wasn't exactly the best time for brain-intensive work, but it wasn't like I had anything else to do.
To be honest, I needed an escape as much as the next guy. I used to play video games as a teen, but once I started grad school, all time for that went out the window. And as a full time professor? Even less likely. Some said it was a little overkill, but work had become that escape for me. Whenever the going got tough, I just put my head down and worked. It hadn't failed me yet, but I had more than a few sleepless nights and bleary-eyed mornings to show for it. I rationalized it wasn't the worst coping mechanism around. It wasn't like I was going around drinking myself into a stupor or something. I didn't smoke a pack a day like Eddie, and I wasn't a betting man like Rob. There were worse things than being a workaholic. That's what I told myself, anyway.
I pulled out my noise-canceling headphones, hunkered down over the desk, and got to work.
When the door opened again, the chatter had died down and those who hadn't left draped themselves over chairs or in corners, fiddling with their phones or else taking a quick nap. Clarissa startled as the door flew open, nearly falling out of her chair. The sound was enough to rouse me and the rest of the department. We looked to Mr. Tanner expectantly.
"Well?" Marvin asked, finally looking up from his phone. "Can we leave yet?"
Tanner glowered in his direction, then finally spoke. "Thank you all for waiting. We've got the police here now and they've secured the building, but haven't been able to find anything out of the ordinary. Investigation is continuing, of course, but at this time you may leave if you wish. Go home to your families. Stay safe. We'll be sending a bulletin with updates as we have them. Thank you." He turned on his heel and left, and the room erupted into chaos once more as the door clicked closed behind him.
I wasted no time. As soon as Tanner left, I high-tailed it for the door, sidestepping the crowd of feuding staff. I practically ran to my office after that, my footsteps clattering alone in the empty hallway. Good thing I was looking where I was going, or I would have tripped over the package laid at my doorstep. Skittering to a halt, I bent down to inspect it. It was rather large, about one foot square, and wrapped with brown kraft paper and twine. It felt like a book of some sort. No postage or return address adorned the envelope, but the words "To Winston Beckett" were printed in black ink. Hmm, I thought, sticking it under my arm as I unlocked the door. Probably one of the books I'd requested from the library. They tended to take their time delivering materials these days, and forever tried to talk me into picking them up myself. Not after that nasty business with Crane, I told them. I'd use the slower courier system, thank you very much.
I threw the package in my bag, filling it with a selection of paperwork and books. Working from home? Not a problem. I didn't like leaving the house that much anyway. Sounded like everyone was going to be home for a while, though, so I made sure I had everything I needed before leaving.
My bag bulged with my supplies, weighed down even more by the surprisingly heavy package. I would have opened it here at the office, but things were getting a little too crazy for my taste. I could wait it out at home just as easily. When Crane disappeared, the Academy fell into a similar uproar. It took time, as these things do, but things eventually went back to some semblance of normality. The door loomed tantalizingly close when I heard my name.
"Winston Beckett, is that you?"
Oh no, it was Laurie. I sped up my steps, praying I could make it outdoors before she sidelined me into another one of her speeches. Just pretend like you didn't hear her, I reminded myself.
"Winston! I see you running away!" Her voice was stern, and had a mocking tone to it. I sighed, slumping. I suppose I'd have to answer to her eventually. She was the one I'd been putting off doing the translations for, anyway.
I turned around, plastering a fake smile across my face. "Hi, Laurie," I said wearily.
"Awful what happened to Mabel, isn't it?" She said.
"I don't know quite what happened to her, but I'm sure it will all get figured out in time," I said noncommittally. It was practically impossible for anyone to not know by this point, the amount of ruckus they were making about it. I tried to sidle toward the door, but she caught me with a glance.
"I can see you're on your way, but I just wanted to ask about those translations...?" Her voice trailed off. Clearly, she was trying to sound innocent. It wasn't working.
"Yes, Laurie. I have them with me. I'll do them at home and get them back to you just as soon as I can."
"You said that days ago," Laurie frowned, crossing her arms. "I need them for my talk I'm giving at the Wright Symposium next week!"
"And you'll have them," I assured her. "I just had other obligations come up, okay? But you're next on the list, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that, Beckett," She nodded, a sparkle in her eye. Laurie pushed me toward the door. "Oh, go on then! I know you're trying to get out of here!"
I cleared my throat and gave her a polite nod, then breezed out the doors into the brisk autumn air. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Tossing my bag in the car, I turned and looked back at the looming halls of Overture Academy. I didn't get into this line of work to deal with disappearances. But apparently, that's what I got anyway.
I made a mental note to work on Laurie's translations before she literally grew another head and started biting me with it. The idea of her as a reptilian monster amused me all the way home, and for the rest of the night, I barely thought about the mysterious package still waiting in my bag.
2
Home had never looked so inviting. I dropped off my bag at the door, shrugging out of my coat as I slumped into the wingback chair in the living room. What a day. I became a professor at the Academy to do research, maybe teach a few budding students here and there. Not to deal with paranormal activity and disappearances. The strain of the day weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I slumped forward, putting my face in my hands. Who knew when the Academy would be deemed safe to return. Guess I'd just have to make do here.
Not that I minded.
I'd always been what you might call 'introverted'. I preferred alone time, really, and being around people too much drained me quicker than a popped balloon. That's why I had to fight with the department to get a lock on my office door. I'd never get anything done if I let people barge in all the time. But now, here in the comfort of my own home? I was finally at peace.
I took a moment to regroup, breathing deeply and staring at the star charts plastered across the ceiling. Okay, so it was a little geeky, but they'd been there for years and reminded me of my childhood. I'd always dreamt about what it must be like, up there among the cosmos. 'Course, I never had the chance to actually go. But staring up at the stars on my ceiling almost made me feel like I was in another world, one without the cares and stresses of this one.
All right. Time to get to work.
Some said an orderly workspace reflected an orderly mind. I found that to be bullshit. Stacks of books and papers piled across the surface and onto the floor. Several abandoned coffee mugs sat gathering dust and one of them had been converted to a pen holder. Clearing a space on the desk, I sat down.
I fished through my bag for the translations Laurie'd asked for, piling them on my already overflowing desk. The brown paper package caught my eye as I did so, rustling softly as I shuffled the contents around. Not now, I reminded myself. I had a job to do. The hour was late already, b
ut I wanted to get a head start while I was still thinking about it. I turned on the desk lamp and started working.
It wasn't long before all the letters ran together in my vision and I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. Perhaps the stress of Mabel's disappearance took more out of me than I thought. I pushed away from the desk, shaking my head. I'd get back to this tomorrow.
The bed awaited me like a lover. I stripped down to my underwear and climbed into her warm, blankety embrace, trying not to think about what the next day would bring. Sure, the disappearances were weird, but they didn't affect me directly. I knew better than to stick my nose where it didn't belong. I'd just have to stay out of it, and things would blow over in time.
That's what I thought, anyway.
No matter what I tried, I couldn't get to sleep that night. My mind raced with ideas, and even the soothing drone of the fan near my bed couldn't block it out. When I finally fell into a troubled slumber, my dreams were hauntingly realistic.
Ravens flew overhead, cawing at me in alarm. Was I supposed to understand them? I stood in a meadow, nothing around me but grass and clouds. Then it all went to hell. Flames licked at the edges of the field, surrounding me in a blaze of heat. They came closer, destroying the meadow and leaving me no escape. I looked around, panicked, but flames closed in from all sides. I was trapped. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the end. When I opened them again, the fire was gone, replaced with shining orange runes. How odd... I stepped forward to touch one, my feet all but gliding across the plane.
When I touched it, I yanked my hand away in pain. That hurt! Were the runes made of fire too? Then even they started encroaching. Not good. I took a few steps back, and felt the searing heat on my backside. I yelped, jerking in the opposite direction. Too late. They were too close. They were all around me, consuming me...