Abimelech pressed his gloved fingers against the cold stone wall of the Shadow-Temple. The carved ravens stared back at him, their beaks open in silent screams. He had spent three years searching for answers about Tsar Fidelio's strange portraits—the ones where a raven's head replaced the ruler's face. The temple held secrets the church wanted buried. Tonight, he would find the truth. He moved deeper into the archives, his boots scraping against dust-covered floors. The air smelled of old paper and wax. A large tome sat on a wooden stand near the back wall. He lifted the heavy cover and squinted at the pages inside. Every known portrait of Tsar Fidelio filled the yellowed sheets. Some showed a man. Others showed a raven where the head should be. He traced his finger across one image, feeling the dried ink beneath his glove. Abimelech needed more than pictures. He pulled a brass telescope from his pack and set it on the windowsill. The ornate eye carved into its side caught the moonlight. Real ravens would help him understand the connection. He positioned the scope toward the courtyard below, where black birds gathered at dawn. If he watched them long enough, patterns might emerge. Outside the temple gates, a tall horn stood in the square—a Celtic carnyx with a boar's head. People used it to share news and whispers. Abimelech would need those whispers. Tomorrow, he would listen to what others said about the Tsar. Someone in this city knew why the church hid those raven portraits. He closed the tome and tucked it under his arm. The search had just begun, but now he had tools and a place to work. The forbidden history would reveal itself, one clue at a time.