[2]

Work site, outside library entrance.
Strong, capable men work tirelessly, lifting and shifting debris with measured care. The clatter of shifting stones mixes with strained grunts. Roark wipes the sweat from his brow and takes a moment to breathe, catching a subtle beckon from his mother-in-law. She stands with his wife, Ann, her expression unreadable but heavy with concern.
Roark
Roark
What is it, Ann?
Ann clutched her amulet so tightly her fingers turn white.
Ann
Ann
Just... promise me you’ll be safe in there.
Roark softly presses a kiss to her forehead. He wasn't going to make a promise he might not be able to keep.
Roark
Roark
We’ll try our best.
Ann's brows furrowed and she frowned, glaring up at him.
Ann
Ann
That’s not a promise.
Roark turns her carefully, his hand brushes her abdomen. He lingers for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Roark
Roark
You both need rest.
Ann hesitates, her gaze lingering on him before she nods. Roark watches her go, his jaw tightening as he fights the weight of his worry. A familiar voice pulls him back to the moment.
Granny
Granny
You've got that look, boy.
Roark side-eyes his Mother-in-law. Still mostly focused on Ann's distant figure.
Granny
Granny
The one that says you’re letting worry get the better of you.
Granny
Granny
Ann’s strong. Always has been. And that little one she carries? Roots down deep. You’ll see.
Roark swallows hard, his chest loosening just enough to draw a deep breath. Before he can respond, a shout cuts through the air.
Strong men
Strong men
We've got a way in!
Roark and Granny exchange a look, then stride toward the opening. Granny’s steps are slow but deliberate, her cane tapping in rhythm.
~•~
Inside Library.
The air is damp and thick with dust. Lanterns cast flickering shadows over the sandstone walls, their intricate carvings worn and broken with age. The faint scent of earth and decay fills the space.
Roark frowned at the state of the building.
Roark
Roark
Sandstone. Durable, but it makes me uneasy. Feels ready to crumble.
Granny
Granny
Not just sandstone. Magic runs deep here. Subtle, but it’s there.
Her cane pauses mid-tap as she kneels to examine faint lines etched into the floor.
Granny
Granny
Someone's been here.
Roark's hand twitches towards the sword he always carries.
Roark
Roark
Is it Gloom?
Granny shot him an amused glance.
Granny
Granny
I don't doubt it.
Granny
Granny
But we need to move cautiously. Gloom is careful, but not perfect.
Strong men
Strong men
Found something! A passageway over here!
Roark moves to inspect it. The gap is narrow and dark, partially obscured by rubble. Roark grimaced at the implications.
Roark
Roark
Single-file. No telling what’s on the other side.
Granny
Granny
That’s why I’m here. If there’s trouble, I’ll know before it bites.
Roark huffs at her words and confident smirk. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
Roark
Roark
Just don’t go charging too far ahead when you get to the other side.
Granny grins and taps her cane against the stone floor.
Granny
Granny
Oh, I’ll try to restrain myself.
She then steps into the passageway. The shadows swallowing her whole.
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