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“But, if a necromancer has no access to bones or corpses, they are no more dangerous than a regular mage. Possibly less so, since they chose to specialize in necromancy and might lack skill in other types of combat magic. Without bones or corpses to animate, their arsenal of spells are severely limited.

“However, don’t expect to come across a necromancer that doesn\'t have access to corpses in some way.

“Necromancers are known to carry around an object known as a bone bag. It is similar to other spatial storage items, able to store many items in a small object, except it is purposely designed to hold only corpses, and a lot of them. The exact capacity of these bags is hard to determine. But to give an example of their capacity, a particularly dangerous rattle bone cultist I defeated had collected the bones of over a thousand people and stored them in a single bone bag.

“Bone bags are illegal to make due to the fact they are crafted specifically from the skin of a living human being. The type of corpse that can be stored in these containers is determined by the type of skin from which the bag was made. Consequently, human skin is the preferred material for crafting bone bags, as these bags were typically used to store human corpses. The process of creating a bone bag is both gruesome and barbaric, involving the skinning of a living person to ensure the bag\'s enchantment would hold.

“Anyone carrying around a bone bag is a clear indication they are a necromancer and most likely a Rattle Bone cultist.”

—“Hunting cultist” By Archmage and Witch Hunter Betty Vo

-Back at the Arcanium Archive-

Joe’s group remained in a private room at the archive, meticulously poring over the books Sorin had been researching. Sandra, the head librarian at the archive, was also present, assisting Joe’s team with her expertise. Each member of the group had their eyes glued to different books, their focus intense as they sifted through the pages. They were searching for any clues that might aid in their investigation, hoping to uncover any connections and secrets that may be hidden within the texts. The atmosphere in the room was one of quiet determination, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of pages being turned.

Alan was reading a black leather-bound book in his hands. He had been going through the collection of cult books that Sorin had checked out, trying to make sense of them. The book he held now was known as the "Rattle Scratching," a sort of holy book that details the practices and beliefs of the Rattle Bone cult, written by one of its own members. As he flipped through the pages, Alan found the content utterly baffling. The things described were bizarre and the beliefs incomprehensible, filled with cryptic phases and messy handwriting that was difficult to read and left him more confused with each passing page.

He had expected that a book belonging to a cult of necromancers would contain rituals and spells related to necromancy. However, as Alan flipped through the pages, he found almost none of that. Instead, the book seemed more like the ravings of a madman, filled with disjointed thoughts and chaotic phrases. There was little rational information he could extract from it. The author rambled incessantly about something called "The Rattle", but never provided a clear description of what it was. Alan\'s best guess was that it referred to some sort of strange sound, and that the members of the Rattle Bone cult were desperately trying to “hear” it by offering bones to this “Rattle”. The weird concept of the "Rattle" only added to the book\'s incomprehensibility, making it a maddening puzzle rather than a useful guide.

Alan: “What in the world I’m I looking at?”

Joe: “That\'s the Rattle Scratching for ya. I told ya to leave that for last. You won’t find anything useful in that book. It’s just nonsensical ramblings.” he said, while continuing to read the book in front of him.

Alan: “But, I thought there would be at least something in this. They’re a cult of necromancers, so there should be spells and rituals to create undead and stuff. But, there is barely any of that here. And, the few rituals I did find make no sense. Like, one of the rituals, I can\'t tell if they\'re telling me how to create an undead or bake a cake.”

Sandra put the book she was reading down and faced toward Alan.

Sandra: “Well, that copy of the Rattle Scratching was confiscated from a pastry chef that was discovered to be a Rattle Bone cultist. So, it probably is actually a cake recipe.”

Hearing that, Jafar couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jafar: “How do you mistake a cake recipe for a ritual to create undead?”

Alan

: “You read this bloody book and tell me it’s obviously a cake recipe. Cause I don’t know too many cake recipes where you put rat poison in it,” he said as he frustratingly placed the book he was reading onto the table in front of him. “And what’s the deal with putting a cake recipe in this?”

Sandra: “Cultists from Rattle Bone reproduce the Rattle Scratching by hand, and when they do, they change things and add their own little flair to it. Every version of the Rattle Scratching is slightly different. With each member adding something to their reproduction of the text. They then scatter those texts all over the place for others to find. I think we have a little under a thousand copies of the Rattle Scratching here at the Archive. And, they\'re all different from one another.”

Alan: “Ah, OK. So it\'s a weird game of telephone with this book.”

Dan: “Hang on a second. If they\'re constantly reproducing and changing it, how do you know which copy is the original? If each version they copy is slightly different from the last, then some of these books must be completely different from each other. It would turn into a completely different text if they did this for long enough,” he said while putting the book he was reading down and joining in the conversation.

Sandra: “It is as you say. Some of the copies are completely different from each other. There are versions of the Rattle Scratching that have a lot more forbidden knowledge related to necromancy in them, and others a lot less.”

Alan: “Then the version I have must be the one that has hardly any information about necromancy in it. Why am I even looking at this version then?”

Sandra: “Because that’s the version of the Rattle Scratching Sorin took out. Although, there are versions with more details about how to conduct necromancy in them. I have no clue why he wanted this version.”

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Rell: “I think I know why. There is a project at the Grayscale College they’re working on that specifically relates to the Rattle Scratching. It has something to do with pattern recognition in those texts. They ended up finding some secret messages in a handful of versions of the Rattle Scratching. I think he made some small contribution to that project.”

Joe: “Do you know how involved with that project he was?”

Rell: “I don’t believe that much. Like I said, he only made a small contribution. And, the enforcers already talked to the person in charge of that project about his connection to Sorin. She didn’t know anything.”

Joe: “I would still like to talk to that guy if possible.”

Rell: “I’ll put in a request, but I think someone else from the Slight-Hawks might already be talking to Professor Snaila. Oh, and it’s a \'she\', not a \'he\'.“

Joe: “If someone else is already talking to her, don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on these books we got to go through. Because after we’re done with this batch, if we don’t find anything useful, we have to go through the rest of the books he took out. Based on what we’ve been told about professors taking books out, I’m sure it’s a lot.” he said while looking toward Sandra.

Sandra: “Yes, It is quite a lot,” she said, confirming Joe’s comment.

Dan, Alan, and Jaffar all sighed.

They had already spent several hours working on this, but their progress had been painfully slow, with little to show for their efforts. Despite their best attempts, they hadn’t even managed to get through a tenth of the books that had been brought to them. Many of the volumes Sorin and Jixi had taken out were incredibly dense and difficult to decipher. Some passages were so packed with complex and convoluted ideas that they required multiple readings just to grasp the meaning, further dragging out the time it took to make any headway.

The task was so tedious that it took considerable willpower to stay awake while wading through the heavy, sleep-inducing texts. Half the group was already starting to feel a little mentally drained, and yet there was still so much to do.

Alan forced himself to pick up the Rattle Scratching once more, his fingers tightening around the worn cover as he braced himself to dive back into the nearly incomprehensible ramblings of a madman.

Tap…tap…tap.

Alan froze, hearing a distant, ominous tapping sound echoing from somewhere behind him. It sounded like something hard striking against stone, sharp and poignant. His heart pounded as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, expecting to see the source of the noise. But there was nothing there—only a wooden wall, its surface mostly bare. The tapping sound stopped the second he started to turn his head.

Joe glanced up from the book he was reading, catching sight of Alan glancing over his shoulder with a nervous, unsettled expression. Alan\'s eyes darted around the room, his posture tense as if something had spooked him.

Joe: “Something wrong?”

Alan: “Oh, um. I thought I heard a weird tapping sound. Did anyone else hear that?” he said while turning back to the group.

Joe: “Hmm, no. I didn’t hear anything.“

Everyone else present, except for Alan, also nodded in agreement with Joe.

Joe: “I must be losing it.”

Jafar: “You’re probably just tired. It\'s late, and you and I were just training with Mitra earlier today. So it might be a bit expected.”

Rell: “You two trained with… Mitra…” he said, sounding surprised.

Jafar: “Yeah. Didn\'t you know?”

Rell: “No. I’m very sorry to hear that about you two,” he said with a look of sympathy.

Alan felt uneasy under the sympathetic gaze Rell directed at him. He was accustomed to Rell being a stern, reserved figure, much like Mitra. Seeing any emotion from Rell, especially sympathy for Alan, was unsettling and felt completely out of character.

Dan: “What are you sorry about?”

Rell: “I’ll tell you and Joe later.”

Dan: “Why not now?”

In response to the question, Rell pointed silently at Jafar. Dan turned his head to see Jafar with a thousand-yard stare. His eyes seemed empty and devoid of life as he recalled the training he\'d gone through with Mitra. It was clear that Jafar wasn\'t fully present at the moment. His mind had drifted back to the grueling training sessions he had endured with Mitra. The intensity of those experiences echoed in his vacant stare, as if he were reliving the trials that had shaped him, leaving him momentarily disconnected from the reality in front of him.

Dan didn’t know the cause for such a stare, but he recognized that hollow expression all too well. It was the kind of look that spoke of exhaustion, frustration, and the weariness that comes from being trapped in an endless cycle of burdensome tasks. Dan had experienced something similar himself during his own ordeal with the relentless paperwork that had nearly driven him to the brink.

A deep sense of sympathy swelled within Dan, reflecting the same emotion Rell had shown earlier. Dan unexpectedly found himself empathizing with Jafar, and the weight of whatever burden was haunting him. He couldn\'t shake the feeling that if Rell elaborated on what he was alluding to, it might only push Jafar further into that state.

Dan: “Ah, later will be fine then.”

Joe: “If you two are tired, I can take you home. The rest of us can keep working at it.”

Alan: “That\'s ok. I can keep going for a little bit more.”

Joe: “Don’t push yourself. You two are still students. Rell here is a full-time enforcer, and the rest of us are full-time officers. We don’t have to attend class after this like you.”

Jafar: “Hmm. Maybe we should head home. Joe is right, I have some classes early tomorrow morning.”

Alan: “OK, just let me finish this book first. Then we can head home.”

Alan was about to pour himself back into the Rattle Scratching when a sharp beeping sound cut through the air, emanating from Joe. The sudden noise snapped everyone’s attention to the officer.

Joe calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box with a tiny flickering screen—it was a pager, a device used to receive text and voice messages. The group watched intently as Joe’s expression shifted, the message on the screen unfolding before him. Whatever information was being transmitted, it clearly demanded immediate attention.

Dan: “Who’s messaging you? Is it Mike?”

Joe: “No, it’s Tony from the forensics team. He wants to see me right away.”

Dan: “What for?”

Joe: “Don’t know. Just says it\'s important. In that case, here’s the plan. I’ll take you two with me,” he said while pointing at Alan and Jafar. ”Head towards where Tony is asking to meet, quickly help him out, then take you two home.”

Jafar: “Actually, Alan and I don’t live that far from the Archive. We can just walk home ourselves from here.”

Alan: “All the same, I still would like to go with you and help out.”

Joe paused for a moment. He was about to tell Alan that he didn’t need any help. But then, he stopped himself. Instead of immediately saying anything, Joe crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, studying Alan with a look of intense contemplation

Joe: “Sure. Are the rest of you OK staying here and working through these documents?”

Rell: “No problems here.”

Jafar: “I’ll keep working on it for a little more before heading home.”

Dan: “OK, how long will you be? And, are you coming back?”

Joe: “Don’t know, and yes. I’ll help you two out after I finish helping Tony and drop Alan off at home,” he said before turning toward Sandra. “How long are you willing to stay here?”

Sandra: “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be here till midnight.”

Joe: “Ok, then. Let’s get going.”

Joe rose from his seat, and Alan quickly followed suit. Without exchanging another word, the two of them exited the private room, leaving the others behind in silence. The air in the room seemed to shift as they departed, the door closing softly behind them.

Once outside, they began walking side by side down the expansive hallway that led toward the entrance of the Archive. The corridor was dimly lit, its high ceilings echoing their footsteps as they moved in unison. Arcane candles floated above their heads, lighting the path before them.

As they walked along, Alan couldn’t help but stare back at the door to the private room they were just in. Wondering what that tapping sound was, and why hearing it made him feel so nervous.