“Dammit!” shouted Mei, slamming her fist into a nearby boulder and shattering it into fragments.

“Go again.” Takt usually spoke in simple commands such as this, ensuring Mei could understand. Then he said something again, longer and more complicated. As soon as Mei missed the first few words, she tuned out the rest, turning to her side.

Nearby, Uki sat, watching Mei and Takt. Mei looked at her expectantly as Takt finished speaking.

“Repetition is key,” Uki said, summarizing Takt’s words. For some reason, Mei could always understand what Uki said. “It’s too early to grow discouraged.”

Mei ran a hand through her hair, pulling the shoulder-length locks back. How many times had Takt said some variation of that? Repetition is key. That may be true for muscle memory, but he could at least vary his advice.

“I took three years to learn!” came a nearby shout. It was Miki, the spearfighter, and he was looking over at Mei.

He was in the middle of sparring with a tall girl, and she took advantage of his distraction to deliver a solid whack to Miki’s head.

“Hey!” he shouted back.

Mei looked at the girl – her name was Kana. Miki, Jess, Yotti, Kana, Nano. Mei still had to consciously remind herself of the names of the five youths training under Takt alongside her, lest she forget – she didn’t normally spend this much time with people this weak.

And yet, they all had something she didn’t: a weapon art. Other than Uki, who never fought, Mei was the only person here who couldn’t even use the most basic form of this combat technique. It was a stain on her warrior’s pride.

"That shit brat Levin is picking up magic just fine! Why the hell can't I do this?" Mei thought to herself.

As she stewed, Miki broke away from Kana and trotted over to her. He ripped off the spear’s protective cover – meant for sparring – and held the exposed blade out towards Mei. The message was clear, delivered in the unspoken language Mei and Miki had developed with each other. He wanted to fight.

She smiled. Miki may be weak, but he made an excellent punching bag. No matter how many times she had slammed him into the dirt, he always came back for more. It reminded Mei of herself, when she was younger.

But before the two could start, a shout and wave of energy split the air.

“Descending Lost Star!”

It was Nano roaring out, releasing an arrow from his bow in a brilliant streak of energy that arced through the air and slammed into a rock formation about two hundred feet away, leaving behind a noticeable crater.

Yotti was standing behind Nano, and immediately erupted in an excited babble. “Nano – “ “– record –” “– twenty eight minutes!”

Mei couldn’t catch most of what he said, but it was enough to tell what happened. Nano had been trying to use his weapon art three times in under half an hour ever since Mei had joined them. It seemed he finally succeeded, and she felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn’t she make progress too?

Nano sat on the ground, his bow set to the side, gasping for breath. The other youths gathered around Nano, congratulating him and patting him on the back. He smiled, but said nothing back – the chant for his weapon art seemed to be the only time Mei ever heard him speak.

“How close is he now?” Miki asked, looking up at Takt.

Mei thought back to the explanation of weapon arts she had been painstakingly given through the language barrier. There were two levels to them, and Nano was currently striving for the second. Mei was hopelessly stuck on the first.

Takt had explained the first stage of a weapon art as a simple blast of energy. Unlocking it was supposed to be easy – drill one physical motion, such as the swing of a sword or thrust of a spear, over and over and over again. Eventually, the body’s full might or something would be added to the motion. Mei really wanted to see what that would look like for her. If a weapon art was enough to let these spindly brats crush boulders, then she would probably be able to take down a whole mountain with hers.

But that was only the first level of a weapon art. After reaching it, it was customary for the warrior to name their technique – Nano had chosen the name ‘Descending Lost Star.’ Takt had explained that the names had a purpose. By chanting one, a warrior could draw out their energy even without performing their trained motion. Levin had said this was similar to the chants mages used, but mages used the chant to sharpen their mind rather than body.

To Mei, these chants seemed quite useful for a swordsman, or a brawler like herself. A swordsman might train their weapon art on a downward swing, but what if they needed to thrust with their weapon art? Well, just shout the chant as you thrust. Mei’s plentiful combat experience told her the versatility provided by naming your technique was well worth the cost of looking like the type of idiot that names their technique. Though maybe it wasn’t fair to cling to the standards of her old world. It wasn’t like they would ever be going back, anyways.

But while a sword could be swung any which way, Nano wasn’t a swordsman. Firing an arrow from a bow was basically the same no matter where you aimed. Maybe he just liked the name. Maybe it helped him fire off three weapon arts in half an hour. With how difficult it was to explain things to Mei across the language barrier, they had only given her this basic understanding of weapon arts. Which was why she knew that Nano was trying to reach the second level of a weapon art, but had no idea what that meant. Apparently Takt could use it, but he never took their spars seriously.

“He has enough – “ Takt said in response to Miki, but Mei couldn’t understand what Nano had enough of.

She glanced at Uki. “He said Nano has enough Force for the second level,” the older woman said.

Takt continued speaking, in the same lecturing tone that Mei had begun to find very grating. The young Mage Hunters gathered around him, listening with rapt attention. Mei stood close to Uki, letting her ‘translate,’ though she spoke the same language as Takt.

“The first level is about physical mastery. The second level is about mental mastery. By mastering yourself, your weapon art will evolve, taking on special attributes based on who you are.”

“Ah, like that Tulimak,” Mei thought to herself, remembering the incredible self-regenerating abilities the Lightning Corp warrior had.

"So to unlock it, you must understand who you are. Nano, I want you now to spend a few hours each day in meditation. What do you want? Who do you wish to become? What do you believe is right, and what is wrong? Answering these questions will illuminate the path your weapon art will take.”

“But Takt, didn’t you reach the second level in combat?” Miki asked.

“That’s right. But that’s far too dangerous a method.”

Mei perked up. Compared to dry explanations of magic, war stories were much more up her alley.

“What happened?” she asked.

Takt began to explain, and Uki repeated after him.

“It was about twenty years ago, in a small town called Antigo. My hometown. At that time, the Lillwu Clan, one of Trurok’s Three Great Clans, managed something that hasn't been replicated before or since. They created two Chimeras at the early Smoke rank, and managed to tame them.”

“Chimera?” Mei said questioningly.

“A particular fusion of man and beast. You killed one at Triple Lily. The Lillwu Clan specializes in the research and creation of Chimeras, and uses them to maintain power. I’d guess the Chimera you killed was from the Lillwu Clan too, but I have no idea what it was doing at Triple Lily.”

The image of the rabid, scale-covered humanoid creature she had pummeled drifted back into Mei’s mind. “And that cave Levin and I found must have been a place to create these Chimeras,” she thought to herself. There had even been three corpses she now recognized as Chimeras.

“The Chimeras that the Lillwu Clan created then were made from dragon Source, making the creatures far stronger and intelligent than other Chimeras. I doubt they could have controlled two Smoke rank Chimeras if they weren’t partially intelligent. Then they sent them to Antigo, trying to destroy the place and take slaves. At the time, the city was under the control of the Chensu Clan, but the mages stationed to defend it were helpless against these Chimeras.”

“So you fought?”

“Yes. Myself and everyone I cared about were going to die or be enslaved. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to protect the people I cared for. As soon as I chose to stand my ground and fight to the death, the second level of my weapon art awakened. I won, and the Lillwu have struggled to maintain their status ever since.”

Mei nodded as Uki finished repeating Takt’s words in a way she could understand. She was dying to know what Takt’s ability was, and if it would make him as fun to fight as Tulimak had been. But frustratingly, he hadn’t been willing to show the technique to Mei yet.

If he waits too long, she would just have to beat it out of him.

***

Pilip held up a vial of bright orange ink, examining it closely in the midday light streaming through the window of his lab.

“Good, no more visible impurities,” he thought to himself.

Next, to check the potency. Pilip’s Source churned, filling his body with Force. He guided the Force into his hand, shaping and molding it with his mind. He visualized the Force slipping out of his hand, through the glass, and into the ink. And it did, with ease – Pilip was a practiced hand at his by now.

“Oh, quite an improvement,” Pilip said aloud. “I can tell you’ve been practicing.”

He glanced down at Levin, and the boy nodded. Normally, he was quite a bit more energetic than today. He’d say, “Thank you, Master Pilip!” and give a bow with clasped hands. A very polite boy, and a far cry from the uncivilized peasant Pilip had stumbled upon originally. But today Levin was staring blankly, like his mind was somewhere else. It made Pilip a little worried.

But still, he had improved. This ink – Myriad Flame – was a very popular ink amongst Inuvik’s acolytes. As its name suggested, it was quite versatile, having applications in energy runes, runic artifacts, and standard attack runes, making it quite in demand. And this one was not just good enough to sell, it was good enough to fetch top dollar. Pilip wasn’t completely sure how he had managed to improve so quickly.

Perhaps Levin had figured something out himself. Runesmithing could be a deeply personal craft, after all, and Levin showed great promise. It wouldn’t surprise Pilip if Levin had found, even if by accident, some kind of shortcut or technique for this ink that greatly improved the success rate. Even the best runesmith would still fail basic recipes sometimes, so there was always room for improvement.

Regardless of the reason, Pilip was happy. Just a little more training, and this new assistant would become a continual source of effortless money. Skilled runesmiths were few and far between, and their products always in demand. Levin was clearly on the path to becoming one – and Pilip would be getting eighty percent of the profits, as Levin’s master. He licked his lips as he tucked the ink Levin brewed into his pocket.

Normally, a runesmith that showed Levin’s promise wouldn’t remain an assistant for long. But Levin had no Source. He had no Source! Pilip still couldn’t believe it sometimes. But it was fact, and it meant that Levin would be stuck as an assistant forever. Sure, the Academy was obviously going to commandeer him in the fight to reconquer Trurok once Silla leaves, but his runesmithing output should still be the property of Master Pilip.

There was still one small problem. The other mages weren’t willing to buy from him after he had killed two dozen promising acolytes with an experimental energy rune. Oops.

“Ah, Twisted Flame. What a blunder that was,” Pilip thought to himself. “At least my success with Levin seems to be bringing a few around already.”

Indeed, a few rumors that Pilip was back in the Smoke ranks’ good graces were spreading. Opening the Lethridge vault was a public matter in Inuvik Academy, so everyone knew Pilip had been given some quantity of resources for an experiment two months ago – and that he was being given more resources today.

Now, he just had to learn the recipe for Blade. It should be much easier this time, since most of the steps were the same as Wave. Bolt would be difficult, since the brewing process looked like a step up in difficulty, but the successes of the first two should be enough to fix his reputation. And no one could blame him if –

The door to his lab slammed open. Pilip and Levin both spun to face the intruder. Pilip tensed up as he saw who it was.

Inuvik Academy’s Chief of Security, the late-stage Wisp rank mage Amaq.

He strode in, eyes locked on Levin. Pilip glanced at the boy, noticing him frozen stiff, eyes wide. Did something happen between these two?

“Greetings, Magus Amaq. I would appreciate it if you knocked next time. What if I were in the middle of an experiment, and your abrupt entry made my hand jump?” Pilip said.

Amaq glanced up from Levin. “I’m here on Academy business. Security business.”

Pilip’s eyes narrowed. What was this about? He glanced over at Levin, and the boy stood there in a deep bow with fists clenched tight, an expression like murder on his face as he glared down at the ground. Pilip jumped in surprise again – he had never seen such an expression on his docile assistant’s face.

But Levin’s expression contorted as though he were fighting the muscles in his face, and he had managed just a regular frown by the time he rose from his bow. Amaq hadn't seen the violent countenance, but Pilip was a much shorter man and standing to Levin’s side.

“Where were you last night?” Amaq said.

Levin glanced at Pilip, and he nodded back. Levin took a breath before answering.

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“After Master Pilip and I met with the Lords Magi, I went to the library for a few hours. Then I ate dinner at the servant’s cafeteria, and afterwards I went back to my room for the night,” Levin said.

“Why the library? You don’t have access to any books. Did Magus Pilip submit a request?” Amaq said, glancing between the two of them.

“I did not, Magus Amaq,” Pilip said. His indignation at Amaq’s abrupt entrance was diminished, mostly replaced by curiosity.

“I meet with Kirima there every day. One of your students, Magus Amaq. She pulls the books and lets me read them.”

“Then you met with her yesterday?”

“No,” Levin said. “She didn’t come to the library. I didn’t see her at all yesterday, so I’ve been a little worried. Did something happen?”

Amaq looked into his eyes, holding the stare. Levin stared back, unflinching. It struck Pilip that something seemed off about him – Levin was never this bold with him. He always fidgeted when Pilip locked a fierce stare at him.

After a long moment of silent examination, Amaq pinched a piece of his robe, holding it up.

“This robe looks brand new. Did something happen to your old one?” he asked.

“Yes, Magus Amaq. My old robes were actually destroyed by Lord Eliya just yesterday,” he replied, calmer than before.

“Oh?” replied Amaq in surprise, looking to Pilip as he let go of Levin.

“That’s correct. You recall the Chaos experimentation I received approval for, yes? You examined Levin's Source yourself then. Well, you see, yesterday Lord Eliya was testing my work. Levin’s robe was an unfortunate casualty, though the experiment was overall a success,” Pilip explained.

“I see. Have you given him any money?”

“A few gold coins yesterday, for a new robe. That’s it.”

Amaq frowned. “Any inks? Rather, have you given him anything of a magical nature at all?”

“No inks. I have given him ingredients, but we use them all here in the lab. The only magical implement I’ve given him is an identity token.”

“Have you had anything go missing?”

Pilip glanced at Levin. What was this about? “No.”

Amaq’s frown turned to a scowl, and he crossed his arms. He tapped his foot on the floor, staring at Levin. Levin didn’t shrink from his gaze.

“Why give him ingredients? To help with your runesmithing?” Amaq said.

“No. I’m teaching him runesmithing.”

At that, Amaq raised an eyebrow. “I thought that to be impossible. He has no Source.”

“We have substituted it with a rune capable of Force analysis.” Pilip gestured to the white rune on the ground, and Levin presented the control rune on his hand.

“Hmm. I see. Could he make Myriad Flame ink?” Amaq asked.

Levin stiffened, and Pilip was so startled to hear the name of the ink in his pocket that he nearly took it out and handed it to Amaq immediately. His fingers were already wrapped around the high-quality ink. But then he paused.

Levin had only been here two months, had only started learning runesmithing six weeks ago, and was hampered by a complete lack of Source. No runesmith would think it possible for Levin to have reached such a high level in such a short time. If Pilip truthfully answered, Amaq would probably realize that Levin is a runesmithing genius. Even if he didn't, word would eventually spread around campus, especially if Levin had actually gotten caught up in something.

He couldn’t let the other mages find out about Levin’s runesmithing ability. They would certainly try to poach him, and would be able to offer Levin far more than Pilip could. Only a fool would turn down the opportunity for better instruction, more resources, and higher pay and status – which every other Wisp rank runesmith at the Academy could offer.

As long as Levin was just a guinea pig, no one else would take an interest in him. But Pilip wouldn’t be able to pass Levin’s brewing work off as his own, or the other mages would wonder why he was wasting his time making acolyte-level inks. A plan formed in Pilip’s mind.

He wouldn’t be able to sell Levin’s inks right now anyway, not without any buyers. So he would hold on to them and sell them in several months, making it look like Levin had needed all that time just to grasp the basics of runesmithing. The other runesmiths certainly wouldn’t bother with him then, and Pilip’s source of money and status would be safe.

All he had to do was hide Levin’s ability for now.

“No, Magus Amaq,” Pilip said. “He is most certainly nowhere near the level of brewing Myriad Flame. I suspect he might not ever reach that level. He lacks any Source, after all.”

Levin looked at Pilip, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. But beyond the surprise, Pilip thought he saw… gratitude?

On the other hand, Amaq's response was what Pilip expected. Amaq nodded, wholly unsurprised. “Magus Pilip, do you know why I’m here?”

“Something happened, presumably. I’m sure Levin had no part in it,” he said. “Actually, if it involved Myriad Flame ink, it couldn’t have been Levin. I’ve taken all of the Myriad Flame he’s produced, and he can’t do any runesmithing outside of my lab. Not without the analysis rune,” Pilip thought to himself.

“Indeed, something happened. Our Academy’s mine was raided last night. I stopped it before anything of value was lost, fortunately. But they did kill one of the acolytes on guard.”

“A raid!?” Pilip exclaimed. “By who!?”

“My very own acolyte, I’m ashamed to say. The Chensu girl that Levin is apparently quite close with.”

“You think the Chensu Clan is making a move already?” Pilip said with a growl.

“No. These were the actions of a misguided youth, I believe. Two, actually.”

“Who was the second?”

“That’s what I was hoping to find out in coming here,” Amaq said, looking pointedly at Levin. “They attacked me with a Phoenix Flame rune. Based on the power, I believe it was powered by a Myriad Flame ink. They also had a Tailwind rune, though I’m unsure of the ink. The magical beast both runes were engraved upon was quite fast in the air even without Tailwind.”

“A magical beast? What kind?” Pilip said.

“A metal-element bird of some kind. Not a native creature. Now, Magus Pilip, if there is anything you know about this attack, I demand your cooperation. For the good of our Academy.”

“Of course, Magus Amaq. If I happen upon anything, I will be sure to inform you.” “No way it was Levin behind that, though.”

“Thank you. Now, I must be going,” Amaq said, turning to leave.

As the door closed behind the Academy’s Chief of Security, Pilip heard Levin let out a long breath. Well, it was only natural Levin would have been tense under a round of interrogation. Pilip got stressed out just by the idea of an ordinary conversation with that man.

“Well, we need to be off as well, Levin. It won’t do any good to keep the good folks down at Lethridge waiting.”

***

Levin sat in a horse-drawn carriage rumbling down the slopes of Mount Inuvik, Master Pilip sitting across from him. Pilip was gazing idly out the window, and Levin had a hand under the fold of his robe, where a silver medallion was hanging around his neck. Kirima’s medallion.

“Why did Master Pilip lie?” Levin thought. But he didn’t want to bring the topic up – too risky.

Who knew what Amaq would have done if Master Pilip had told the truth. But now, there was nothing linking him to the Myriad Flame ink engraved on Cho. Master Pilip had made Levin out to be a talentless, penniless servant of no note, exactly what Levin wanted.

Amaq might still suspect his involvement, but Levin had managed to get back to his room undetected last night on Cho’s back. Fortunately, he had the ingredients for another healing ink on hand.

Even if Levin was still a suspect, Amaq seemed mostly interested in the runesmith that enabled the attack, a role Levin had just been ruled out from. All thanks to Master Pilip. Even though Kirima was gone, at least he still had one person in his corner at the Academy.

“Too bad Inuvik Academy has made an enemy of me,” Levin thought, anger bubbling to the surface now that the shock of the confrontation was over. “I’ll be sure to tell the Mage Hunters to spare him, though. Master Pilip is one of the good mages, so they should listen.”

“Say, Master Pilip,” Levin said.

Pilip grunted, continuing to stare out the window.

“Last time we made this trip, you said Lethridge has better security than Inuvik Academy. Why is that? As in, what is different from Inuvik Academy’s rune array?” Levin asked.

“Well, size, for one. The Academy’s rune array covers the entire mountain, but Lethridge is just one tower. It’s a lot cheaper to put very strong security on a tower than a mountain,” Pilip said. “And they have different uses, too. Do you know of the shields you can summon with the central rune array?”

“Yes,” Levin said. He was painfully aware of them after last night.

“It’s a common feature in rune arrays. Lethridge’s rune array can also make them. But at Lethridge, they appear automatically – the rune array will respond to any attacks aimed at the guards there. At the Academy, they have to be summoned manually.”

“Why?” Levin asked.

“Because the mages and acolytes spar with each other a lot on campus. So it would be a hindrance if the central rune array were constantly interfering. That’s what I mean by the two having different uses,” Pilip said. “Ah, but don’t misunderstand. Both rune arrays will automatically block all attacks from someone without an identity token. So you won’t need to worry about your safety on Mount Inuvik.”

“It’s the mages that need to worry about their safety,” Levin thought to himself. Then he took a deep breath, trying to keep calm in front of Pilip.

“If it’s so well defended, do the Lords Magi keep any of the Academy’s Smoke-tier ingredients there?”

Pilip shot him a strange look in response.

“Now why would you care about that? Even if there were, it’s not like we would be allowed access to them,” he answered.

“I was just curious,” Levin said with a shrug.

“Hmph. Well, if you must know, there aren’t. The Lords Magi aren’t so bold as to keep resources valuable to them personally outside of the Academy like some kind of dangling fruit, great security or not. Those would be in the Academy’s treasure room, within the Lords Magi’s tower. If they even have any left at this point,” Pilip said.

“Because Silla’s taken them all?”

“Because Silla has taken all the valuable production sites in Trurok. Our Lords Magi are quite eager for him to leave so they can reclaim those mines and farms. Although, Azaadi will likely prove troublesome…”

“And what if Azaadi were to be taken out of the picture?”

“What, Silla taking Azaadi with him out of Trurok? Silla claims that once he reaches the Cloud rank he'll be able to fly out of Trurok, and if that's true I doubt he'll be able to take anyone. Being able to fly beneath the Dew rank is very rare, after all."

“I meant his death. What if someone kills him? Would the Lightning Corp have anyone important left?”

“Just Wisp ranks. But death? Don’t be absurd. Who could kill Azaadi? He’s the only mid Smoke rank in Trurok besides our Lord Panai. Takt himself is the only other who could maybe win, but no one’s seen him since the Battle of Antigo, and that was twenty years ago. Beyond that you would need an Awakened to appear, and that’s asking for lightning in a bottle,” Pilip said as he chuckled lightly.

Levin smiled, chuckling along with Master Pilip. It seemed what the Mage Hunters had told him about Takt’s identity was true.

“Ah, we’re here. These carriage rides go much faster with someone to talk to. Good lad,” Pilip said, smiling at Levin.

The two disembarked, heading through the lush garden and into the stately tower of Lethridge. Inside, they found Lieutenant Aiyame there to greet them once again.

“Greetings, Magus Pilip. I hear the experiment has gone quite well,” she said.

“It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant. They have gone well indeed. Levin, would you mind showing the good Lieutenant my handicraft?” Pilip said.

“Yes, Master Pilip.” Levin blushed a little as he turned around and dropped his robe from his shoulders. He then removed his undershirt and exposed his bare back to Aiyame, giving her a complete view of the Chaos rune Wave.

“Very nice. Most who had that rune engraved upon them for this long would look like a withered corpse by now from the Chaos Sickness, if they were even still alive. It’s no small feat to make progress in a field that’s been considered dead for over a thousand years,” she said, admiring the intricate rune.

“I am undeserving of such praise, Lieutenant. I found Levin by chance, is all,” Pilip said, but Levin could hear the satisfaction dripping from his voice.

“Well, let’s go then,” she said, heading off to the stairs in the back.

Unsurprisingly, the place was exactly the same as their previous visit. Rows of doors locked by glowing runic lines filled every floor, and the trio swept through, dumping ingredients into a knapsack. At least Master Pilip was carrying the knapsack this time, and humming a little tune as he did. Apparently he was so pleased by Aiyame’s comments he had completely forgotten Levin was there to do that.

After getting all the supplemental resources, they arrived on the second highest floor. Here was where the primary Chaos ingredient was, sitting inside the lidded bin that filled this floorspace.

“Finally,” Levin thought, his heartbeat quickening. He felt the medallion hidden beneath his robes – Kirima taught him he shouldn’t be playing it safe anymore.

Aiyame unlocked the bin and removed the lid, and Pilip began shoveling Chaos buds into his bag. Levin hung back. This was his chance.

He had been to every floor except the one above. And as far as he could tell, there was no basement. Which meant the top floor could only contain one thing.

Pilip was happily pulling out Chaos buds by the fistful, his bag slowly filling up. Aiyama was watching him, stifling a yawn as she did. Levin slipped up the stairs.

He was right. At the top of the tower lay Lethridge’s rune array. Several runes joined together, in a mish-mash of blues and blacks of all shades. It was larger than the one at the slave tower, but seemed much smaller compared to the central rune array, though Levin had only seen the outer edge of that one.

The design was immediately seared into Levin’s memory by way of his Y-Link. However, that was only half the battle. Next, he kneeled beside the edge of the rune array, engaging his sensors and mini analysis rune, targeting the ink in the floor.

The data was read in an instant. But this was a rune array, made up of multiple runes and inks. Levin moved quickly, staying low to the floor, training his toolbelt on the next rune. He circled the rune array, grabbing as much data as he could.

“Levin!” called out Pilip from below.

Levin grimaced. He wasn’t done. And now there were two sets of footsteps stomping up the stairs behind him.

He dashed across the rune array on his hands and knees, scanning the runes in the middle as fast as possible. There were over a dozen runes in this array, and he needed to be sure to get all of them. If he missed scanning the rune that created the shields, all his ideas would come crumbling down.

Pilip and Aiyame crested the stairs, to see Levin not kneeling but standing at the back of the room, staring at the rune, doing his best to look absolutely enthralled.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” growled Aiyame, fixing a murderous glare on him.

Levin spun around, feigning surprise. “I’m terribly sorry, Lieutenant Magus!” he said, bowing down deeply and holding it.

Levin knew Pilip would not be pleased by this stunt, but he was hoping his master favored him enough to put up with him. So Levin was very pleased to hear Pilip ask “Why did you come up here?”

“Master Pilip, I’ve never seen a rune array before in person. My curiosity got the best of me. It won’t happen again,” he said with as much respect as he could muster.

“Hmm,” Pilip hummed in response, looking over to Aiyame.

Aiyame walked forward and carefully scrutinized the rune array. Levin hadn’t tampered with the runes in any way, so there was nothing for her to find – she soon turned away, towards Levin. She examined his face, and Levin did his best to look guilty and remorseful.

“How disrespectful, to leave your master’s side without permission. Magus Pilip, I expect you to teach your servant a lesson after you return,” she said.

Levin breathed a sigh of relief. It seems she bought his innocently curious act.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Pilip answered.

The three began to head back downstairs, with Levin hanging his head in faux shame. But there was no shame in his mind, just a rush of adrenaline. He engaged his Y-Link, setting it to work processing the new data. Soon, he would likely have a deeper understanding of the rune than the runesmith who had created it.

They were soon on their way after Pilip said his farewells and reaffirmed the promise to discipline Levin. The coachman was ready for them, diligent as always, so Levin and Pilip were soon rumbling down the streets of Inuvik City and out towards the mountain path up to Inuvik Academy.

Pilip was excited as he looked over the abundant resources contained in his knapsack, like a schoolchild who had gotten a new toy. He began to talk energetically, even without Levin’s prompting.

“I should have the next set of inks ready within the week! The next one is called ‘Blade,’ and it looks like a fantastic spell. Much more efficient than Wave, and more powerful as well. A perfect tool for a young, fit boy like yourself. Even Lord Eliya will be hard-pressed to harm you through Blade! Fantastic! After this, I’ll certainly be considered one of the top researchers at Inuvik!”