Chapter 169:

A blast of papers whipped Anton’s face as returned to the Graterious Royal Academy. Thankfully Mezot’s room remained clean and ordered…Mostly. A few new piles had emerged but overall Mezot had maintained her cleanliness.

It’s only been a few hours though…

“I hope she doesn’t need another healing,” Anton mumbled, stepping off the shimmering white portal. “Not that that’s a problem.”

Verona and Cetina stepped through with the Wyrm Heart secured tight in the metal reinforced wooden box. Anton hated the way it felt like it was still beating, Cetina doubly so. She kept it as far away from her chest as she reasonably could. Kal had returned to Atros, along with a myriad of new pieces of furniture and weapons for the people.

A pattering of feet came towards them. Mezot’s face, normally devoid of expression, held a small smile. It warmed his heart to see she could express some emotion, no matter how slight.

“Those stones pulsed with mana.” Mezot’s faint smile faded, back to her normal face. “No one has come by after you left…”

“Was it just one pulse or four?” Anton asked, turning to the shimmering portal. “I can’t feel anything from it.”

“Four,” Mezot said with some finality.

An awkward silence filled the air, one that she didn’t appear to understand.

Anton coughed lightly. “We have the Wyrm heart.”

Mezot’s eyes lit up. She hesitatingly approached the box, stepping on the few loose pieces of paper. Cetina opened the box to show the gigantic heart within.

“This is real.” Mezot’s fingers twitched, reaching for the box. “A real Wyrm Heart…How much did you pay for this?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton smiled. “Called in a few favours but nothing too severe.”

Mezot forced her fingers to stop. She turned and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Anton. Everyone.”

Mezot’s shoulders trembled. “No one would ever help me like this…Especially…”

Anton smiled as she stood upright. He was tempted to pat her head, her blonde hair looked very extremely fluffy and soft but he didn’t want to upset or startle her, especially if she had an…issue.

“How’s your head?” Anton asked.

Mezot silently took the chest, Cetina was more than happy to be free of it, and left the room without a word. Anton sighed, he appreciated, just a little, Axia’s struggles. She placed the crate on her table, the spilt ink from before had dried but would forever stain the wood black, and pushed the loose papers away. Her large staff lay against the far wall, at least it wasn’t allowed to be buried in the piles of papers and scrolls.

“With this…” Mezot took out the heart, inspecting it close with her eye. “This is a fantastic specimen.” Mezot’s generous hips began to sway. “I should have my thesis done by tomorrow at the latest with this.”

“All with a heart?” Verona asked.

Mezot smiled, though her attention focused on the Wyrm Heart. Her fingers dug deep into the soft flesh, the white cloth slowly dyed red.

“Yes…” Mezot’s smiled instantly faded. She fastened the lid tight. “My head is better. I can think a little more clearly. Words and thoughts are no longer…as muddled.”

“I don’t know your schedule.” Anton began. “But have you spoken with anyone other than Axia?”

“I have.” Mezot smiled. “I just had a class and the students waited until the end! That’s never happened before!”

“That’s great. And under a day too.” Anton chuckled.

Mezot’s hand reached out for Anton, her eyes flicked to the girls and she retracted it. Comparatively, she lacked many of their curves. Her eyes glanced down, she tried to hide her envy but it was as clear as day. Mezot took a deep breath to calm herself.

“I need some time to finish, I almost have everything done.” Mezot began to pick at her fingers. “But it’ll take some time before I can complete my thesis. I…I can’t leave until it’s done so…”

“Actually, there is something that you can help us with.” Anton began. “I’ve been told that there’s a library in the Royal Academy. And I don’t think we can access it.”

“There is.” Mezot’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “If you’re looking to buy books on Principle Magic there are sellers outside the Academy. At least…There were when I last left.”

Mezot coughed. “But they won’t let you take, let alone read them, without someone from the Academy with…you…”

“Exactly.” Anton smiled as Mezot began to understand. “But I’m also interested in history. Specifically the United Empire and its activities.”

“Ah.” Verona smiled. “Now I get it.”

“Do you?” Cetina raised a black brow.

Verona huffed. “Now you’re sounding like Kal.”

“There are books there.” Mezot nervously scratched her shoulder. “They…They don’t like me going into the library, especially close to night time.”

“Because you would become lost in the words?”

Mezot nodded.

“And you might have missed some of your lessons before?”

Mezot’s ears quickly flushed red with embarrassment.

Anton smiled. “That won’t happen with us here. So, do you need to set something up first or can we go now?”

Mezot darted back to the desk. “Please wait outside for a few moments. I won’t be long. And then we can go.”

Mezot raised her head, Anton saw the faint smile on her lips. “I’m no longer so worried…”

Mezot trailed off as she roughly handled the Wyrm Heart and took it to another room. They followed her words and waited outside for Mezot to finish whatever she could possibly want with such a strange thing.

---[]---

Mezot led them through the Graterious Royal Academy. While at first Mezot appeared very apprehensive to leave her room now, with the afternoon sun raining down her face and the fresh air filling her lungs, she moved with a happier stride, for Mezot at least. Verona bumped his side and nodded at Mezot, a smirk on her lips. Anton knew exactly what she was thinking. Mezot was rather pretty and slim, clearly not even not in her thirties yet, but having her live in Atros might be a bit of an issue, even moreso that she wasn’t a child. Anton knew that he had to be a little patient with her peculiarities but others might not, they might think that she was being deliberately difficult and distant, especially when her daughter was anything but. He didn’t want to have her secluded in a room in Atros, even if it would be of her own volition.

Verona really has done a number on me.

Mezot slowed, her hands clutching each other nervously. Ahead a small group of students stood in the centre of the stone pathway, requiring the few passer-by’s to stumble through a small garden either side of the path. Though they wore student attire they appeared to be adults.

“All ages become students here?” Anton asked, stopping beside Mezot.

Mezot nodded, some of the nervousness left her. “Yes. But usually they’re children. It’s a lot easier to learn magic when you’re younger…They might be rural nobles. And they can only just afford to send them now.”

“That still puts them ahead of you on the social ladder, right?”

Mezot nodded.

“Even as a Lecturer?” Cetina raised a brow.

“This is why I don’t like going outside.” Mezot lowered her head but Anton motioned for them to maintain pace.

The small throng of students saw Mezot approach and turned to sneer and jeer. However, Anton shot them a look to back down. After dealing with The Shadow Isles and Qaiviel his tolerance for stupidity and arrogance was at an all-time low. Mezot attempted to walk around and into the garden but Anton reached out, held her shoulder and shook his head. Mezot stopped but looked confused.

“Gentlemen.” Anton began. “Ladies. Could you please move to the side and not take up the entire walkway?”

Anton refrained from adding snark, now was not the right time for antagonism, even though some would inadvertently slip through.

“Who are you?” One asked, the largest and seemingly the leader of the little throng. Several appeared to agree with him, but only when he gave them a look.

“Irrelevant,” Anton said calmly. “But right now you are taking up the entire path. No one has a problem with you being out here but you are blocking passage. And to a teacher, no less. So could you please move?”

He looked at Mezot, her presence shrunk underneath their stares. Her feet dragged on the stone ground as she backed away, using Anton as a partial shield. Eventually, the throng decided to move out of the way, at least partially. Anton smiled and led them past. He kept his eyes on them, Cetina manoeuvred herself closer. Though they probably could use some magic it was undoubtedly forbidden to attack someone unprovoked. And Cetina was clearly physically stronger than any of them.

Only when they were well clear did they breathe easy.

“Thank you,” Mezot said softly. “I thought that was going to end badly.”

Anton smiled. As he glanced back he saw one with a stone in his hand. Anton stopped and glared at the man, resting his hand on the hilt of his small dagger. Thanks to his cloak there wasn’t a way to see how big the blade really was. Realising he was about to start a fight, a fight with someone that would fight back, the man hid the stone and turned away.

“Little bastards should learn some respect,” Anton said, Mezot and Verona looked oddly at him. “Teaching the future generations is incredibly important, perhaps one of the most important things we can do. And that they wouldn’t move for a teacher…And one that can use powerful Ice and Water magic at that.”

Mezot hid her excitement of praise well, though it wasn’t intentional. Verona gave a curt nod while Cetina kept her eye towards the throng.

“I take it they wouldn’t do that to someone a Master.” Verona leant forward, a slight frown on her face.

Mezot glumly nodded.

After passing several more groups of students, these weren’t as rude as the first, they arrived at the Library, a tall rectangular building adorned with many crystal lights.

“Mezot?” Anton had to tap her on the shoulder to stop her. “Those lights. How are those powered?”

Mezot frowned lightly as she followed his hand. “Light Crystals? I…I’m not sure. They’re expensive, but the Academy has all the money it could possibly need. They can afford to pay me…But not enough.”

Mezot took a deep breath as she approached the large wooden doors. Four heavily armed Graterian guards, just like those at the entrance to the Academy, stood guard. She stopped when a guard lowered a halberd to bar their way.

“The library will be closing soon.” He spoke smoothly, without any emotion. “Students will have to leave very soon, so there’s very little point in entering today.”

Anton looked to Mezot. Again she shied away but he bumped her back, giving her the courage to speak.

“I am a teacher. A lecturer.” Mezot’s voice wavered, the guards remained unmoved or concerned. “So I am allowed to enter whenever I wish. And they…Are not students.”

A pair of eyes, hidden by their encompassing helm, darted between them.

“We have a writ from Lord Cassius that we are allowed into the Royal Academy.” Anton produced the paper. “I can assure you that we will follow all of the rules for the library. I don’t particularly want to meet the end of your weapons.”

The guard raised his weapon and inspected the writ. “You may enter. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

The man’s eyes fell on Mezot. “You’ll be held responsible for any losses. Understood?”

Mezot nodded. The guard lightly sighed and opened the door. Inside lay the most fantastical library Anton had seen, far larger than anything from Earth even. They did not enter on the ground floor, rather somewhere near the top as the library extended far underground, dozens of floors containing thousands upon thousands of bookcases, each bristling with neatly organised books and scrolls.

Flights of stairs, at both sides of the building, allowed the few people inside to traverse the multiple layers, large ladders occupied every level so people could reach the books at the top of the bookshelves. To Anton’s delight, they appeared to have wheels on the bottom, though they would almost be certainly thrown out if they were to play with them.

“We need to speak with the Librarians.” Mezot pointed to a small alcove to the side of the entrance. “They know the location of every book in the entire building. I’m sure they will know... Whatever it is you are looking for.”

Three old women, their faces covered and etched with deep wrinkles, sat hunched behind a small wooden desk. None gave much attention to the few people walking past, especially not them. Anton smiled as they approached though the feeling wasn’t returned.

“Yes?” One asked. “The library is closing soon, Mezot. You can’t stay here all night like you normally do.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The faintest hint of a flush crept over Mezot’s ears. Easily being lost within words in a building containing thousands upon thousands of books was not the ideal combination. Had someone tried to track Mezot down only to find her surrounded by piles of discarded books?

“I understand,” Mezot said softly. “My mind is more clear today.”

Mezot smiled at Anton. The elderly woman raised a brow, the others consumed by their work, but said nothing.

“Do you have any books on Glyph Magic?” Anton asked.

The old woman glanced again at Mezot. “We do. But none of you have the authority to reach them. Only the Headmaster could allow someone access to those tomes.” The old woman chuckled. “I thought you would have known that, Mezot.”

“Would a writ from Lord Cassius change your mind?” Anton reached into his pocket.

"No." The old woman leant back into her chair. “I only answer to the Headmaster. And, though we look old, we know a lot of Principle Magic.”

“I see…”

Well, Cassius isn’t exactly well liked here, with that civil war and all that, but maybe there is something else we can do here.

“Do you have any books about the rise and fall of the United Empire? It is something that's garnered our curiosity. I'd-"

“Level seven." A bony set of fingers pointed deeper into the library. "Bookcase eight.”

Silence filled the air. A pair of students emerged from the stairs below, chatting merrily, saw them and felt the oppressive silence. They whispered a stifled giggle and hurried out.

“And anything about Beast-kin?” Anton received a raised wrinkled brow. “During our travels, I have seen several but there is remarkably little they can tell me. I cannot travel to Seocuria just to ask.”

“What do those creatures have that could possibly interest you?”

Anton shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Well…Same Level. Bookcase three.”

“Thank you.” Anton bowed his head. “We will be sure to respect this libraries’ rules.”

The faintest smile crept over the old woman’s mouth, though it faded in an instant. Anton hurried them away and down the stairs. Every level held a few dozen students and several teachers, all pouring over books and ancient tomes. Standing at the end of each level were two heavily armoured soldiers, just in case someone decided to take a tome unauthorised. They received a few odd looks but were mostly ignored. The seventh level contained a single Graterian guard and one student, who was using it as a place to sleep rather than anything important. Even the guard looked old and tired; clearly no one came to this level. As the girls, and Mezot, began looking for the bookcases, Anton looked further below. The next three levels were almost abandoned as well. Beyond that a series of large chains, covered in dusty tassels of paper, barred anyone from descending further. There was no way they would be allowed to enter, doubly so without being caught. Anton’s skills with Glyph magic were still severely lacking.

“So what are we looking for?” Verona asked. “No magic, I get that.”

“And we can’t take any of the books with us,” Cetina mumbled. “So we can’t get any of the rare Principle Magic books.”

“I want to know how the United Empire fell.” Anton stopped in front of the bookcase. “Just in case there are any parallels to what we’re doing. Not that I expect it to happen during my lifetime but something we should still be aware of.”

Mezot had already drifted away to a book left open on a table. Anton's light cough brought her back.

“Any of these looks like a history book? One that gives us a brief summary.”

Mezot’s eyes scanned the lines of books. Out of the four present only two could read, but Verona and Cetina were trying their hardest to catch up.

“There.” Mezot pointed to a book near the top. “That should be what you’re looking for.”

Anton clambered up the slightly rickety ladder, the temptation to ride it was drowned out by every groan, and retrieved the large, dusty book.

“When was the last time this was used?” Anton slowly descended the ladder. “I suppose this is ancient history now. Four hundred odd years at least before the last fragments finally gave up the pretence…And if a generation is about twenty years that’s still twenty odd generations. No wonder they’d forgotten.”

Anton placed the book onto the table, flicking through the pages. “How long did it take for Britain to revert back to misaligned mud huts from straight stone buildings after the Romans left?”

Verona raised a brow as Anton scanned through the pages. Mezot moved very close, her eyes furiously scanning the pages as Anton flicked through. Verona chuckled as Mezot pushed Anton away, unconcerned with touching or offending him, so engrossed in the words.

“Is she okay?” Cetina asked, a faint chuckle escaped her lips.

Anton waved his hands around Mezot’s head, even once in front of her eyes. Only then did she start to react.

“Sorry…” Mezot held her head low. “You…You can see why…”

“Does it say anything?” Anton asked, not wanting to dwell, mainly for Mezot’s sake. Verona and Cetina took a nearby chair.

Mezot’s eyes slowly grew back into focus. “You wanted to know about the fall of the United Empire?”

Mezot tapped the page, the title did indeed say ‘Decline of the United Empire’. She scanned the pages silently.

“The book says that they tried to expand to the Laena Thalor, ruled by the Vunyth Dynasty.”

Again Mezot fell silent as she stared into the paper.

“And they are…”

Mezot blinked hard once. “I…Sorry. They are the largest Wood Elf Kingdom in the world.”

“So it was because of those haughty twats.” Verona scoffed. “Wait…What’s the one beneath…I mean, beneath the old Kar Kingdom?”

“I believe that’s a satellite kingdom.” Mezot glanced at the book as she wandered away. “The Oranthas Dynasty…”

Anton sighed and shook his head. “Where’s she going now?”

Mezot disappeared behind a bookcase and began to rifle through something.

“This might be a little difficult.” Verona sighed, slumping her head onto the table. “Might get exhausting after a while.”

“Maybe when she’s working it’s not so bad.” Anton smiled, patting her head.

“You’re not worried about Mezot being…” Cetina trailed off.

“No.” Anton chuckled. “Regardless, I don’t think we have much of a choice, not if we want to get a Principle Mage anytime soon.” Mezot returned with a large roll of paper. “So long as we can get her to focus. The first students might have a rough time of things.”

Mezot placed the scroll on the table, a map of the world albeit old and dusty. Verona leant over while Cetina peered over their backs.

Mezot’s finger trailed over the continents to the Graterious Empire, except it wasn’t labelled as such. Their continent was simply labelled as being part of the United Empire. All of it, even the current Wood Elf kingdom to the south.

“Here.” Mezot tapped the centre of the Oranthas Kingdom. “There isn’t a Heart of the Wild there anymore.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.” Anton frowned lightly. He leant close, Mezot shuffled away but bumped into Verona who flashed a smile. “You seem to know a lot about the Wood Elves.”

Mezot looked up, her eyes twitching between the bookcases. “I like it here. It’s peaceful. But I can get lost in the books and their stories.”

“I imagine you might know more about them than those librarians.” Anton smiled.

Mezot didn’t quite know how to take it but took it as a compliment. “They’re very interesting…To be so long-lived.”

“It might get a little boring.” Verona flashed Anton a beaming smile. “Not that I would with you…But maybe a few hundred thousand winters might drag on a little.”

Anton gently nodded. “So these Heart of the Wild?”

“A giant tree situated at the centre of the forest.” Mezot hurried away and returned with a current updated map of the world. She pointed to the heart of the Oranthas Kingdom. “Somewhere in the middle, here, is a tree so tall that it brushes against the clouds. Most of their cities exist around it, they have smaller outposts and forts throughout the forest but most live near the great trees.”

“So to defeat them we’d just need to take down the tree.” Verona coughed lightly. “Not that we’d be fighting them, of course.”

“That would be…difficult.” Mezot frowned. “I’ve seen their mages, they come to Graterious every twenty winters, and they are extremely strong and fast. You couldn’t beat them. I know I couldn't beat them.”

Verona sniggered. “You don’t know what I can do.”

“Back on track,” Anton said softly. “The United Empire took on the Wood Elven Kingdom and lost?”

Mezot tapped the book. “In one battle they lost four hundred thousand soldiers.”

“No wonder they had problems.” Anton shook his head. “To try and rebuild after those sorts of losses...Not just in manpower but experience and equipment."

“The Wood Elves lost many of their warriors too. But they also had many creatures of the forest to support them; Kobolds, Trolls, Ent’s and Fairies.”

Guess Fliodher spoke the truth.

“But those can be replaced far easier than the Wood Elves,” Anton mumbled. “I can already imagine the tactics they used. So the United Empire crumbled because it couldn’t field its armies and to rebuild it simply cost too much for the empire to bare…I imagine the Dark Elves were glad to throw them off. The loss of the Blood Hammer Dwarves certainly didn't help the quality of their soldiers. I imagine there were many attenpts to rebuild the empire but each time it became smaller and smaller unitl it slowly collapsed into nothing.”

“That’s…That’s what it says in the book.” Mezot almost smiled. “More or less. No mention of Dwarves but..."

Mezot flicked between two pages near the front and back, both illustrating a standard United Empire soldier. At first, they were heavily equipped, metal and gambeson armour with large shields and spears and swords. Clearly the inspiration for the Graterious Heavy Infantry. According to the inscription every soldier carried a crossbow and was a decent shot. At the back, however, lay a more tragic example. Gone was the full suit of metal, now just a flew patched on the most vital locations. The weapons suffered immensely too, now only metal tipped spears with a large and somewhat crude wooden shield reinforced with an iron band. Gone too were the crossbows, even the gambeson looked to be of a much lower quality.

"Wow." Anton murmured. "They really fell a long way."

"They couldn't produce and maintain the armour." Mezot began. "It was a sudden shift but had clearly been happening for a while. At least that's what it says here. I wasn't there so..."

"The loss of the Blood Hammers really did hurt them," Cetina said, flicking the page to the first soldier. "After hearing stories of those soldiers, imagine being equipped like he was. You'd be pretty depressed. At best some kind of fodder."

“Anything about the Beast-kin?” Verona asked. She leant close, her brows furrowing in concern. “From what I’ve heard they weren’t present for the conquest of The Shadow Isles but were afterwards. Any clues to that in these books?”

“It mentions several Generals and Admirals as Beastkin." Mezot flocked through the book again. "But not what type or why they reached those positions."

"That's good," Verona said. "I suppose. They treated them like humans. No need to get all weird and cuddly with them just to show they weren't bad people. Just straight up they were a General."

Mezot continued to flick through the book, far slower this time.

If Mezot hates Beastkin we're in a serious uphill battle.

"Have you ever seen a Beastkin before?" Anton gently stopped her skimming. "Outside of the books?”

Verona groaned lightly.

"I have. Some were brought as part of a demonstration."

"What kind?"

Mezot refused to answer, her face spoke of her disgust.

Anton glumly nodded. "So what did you think of them?"

Mezot shrugged. "Strange."

That'll have to do.

"Nothing else really in this book but there should be…”

Mezot, once again, abandoned the books and maps and moved to the other designated bookcase. Her eyes scanned the books until she pointed at one, evidently she wasn’t going to attempt the climb herself, not that this ladder looked particularly dangerous and rickety.

“Um…Is this right?” Anton held the dusty book in his hands. “This says The Anatomy of The Beast-kin.”

“Yes.” Mezot’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

“I’m not really concerned about how their internals work.” Anton bounced the book in his free hand. The surrounding books covered topics such as their uses as well as some theological texts, regarding their status as sins, thrown in for good measure. Those books were far newer though no less dusty. "But I’m sure we’re about to find out something very interesting."

The book was even older and disused than the previous; the prejudice of the Beast-kin ran deep and for a very long time. Only the Seocurians would have interest in such things now. Instead of enslavement the Beastkin outside of Seocuria were utterly slaughtered.

Still no reason why that happened. Unless the United Empire blamed them for their military failures, and that flowed through to the people. Shouldn't have resulted in something so apocalyptic.

Mezot flicked through the pages. Quickly drawings emerged, ones that made Anton’s stomach turn slightly. Anton stopped Mezot’s idle flicking. An Arachnid illustration, like Ulyaa, covered both pages, an immaculately detailed drawing showing every unique feature; their eight legs, the small claws at the end to manipulate their thread, their spinneret and where their human upper half joined their spider body. The Arachnid shown was a male, their genitals had been detailed as well, capable of completely withdrawing into their body, presumably for protection. Mezot was un-phased by an extremely detailed drawing of a penis.

The next page stopped Anton dead. The Arachnid had been completely dissected, again with intricate details. The following four pages showed every part of the Arachnid; how their spider body functioned and how the organs and tissue changed when moving from one part to another.

“Poor thing,” Verona mumbled. “Oh no. And they even cut that apart. Who does that sort of thing?”

“Do you think he was still alive?” Cetina asked worryingly.

“Let’s hope not.”

Mezot shook her head, flicking back to the first page. She pointed at a small note at the bottom.

“It says that the specimen had committed suicide prior to dissection.”

“Well…” Verona rolled her hand. “That’s better. I suppose.”

“What about the others?”

As they flipped through more and more Beast-kin Anton grew increasingly concerned, something at the back of his head was throwing up alarm bells. Every Beast-kin had committed suicide before dissection.

“All at once?” Anton asked aloud. The last Beast-kin, a Lamia, extinct now in Seocuria, had a note that she had committed suicide too.

“Do you think the United Empire covered something up?” Verona asked. “But…But why say they all committed suicide?”

“Just say nothing,” Cetina mumbled. “No one would question it.”

“This book was written by someone in the United Empire.” Mezot lifted the book and pointed to a small symbol on the spine. A simple sword resting over a shield. Simple, but powerful.

“That’s still very…” Anton rubbed his chin. “The United Empire made special effort to ensure that anyone who read this knew they had committed suicide and not just died...Ugh. We're definitely missing something. Do we have a date when this was made?”

Mezot checked the back and front. She made a noise, something Anton didn’t expect, when she read the front. “Every Beast-kin autopsy was taken from suicide victims of the Burning Light.”

Mezot turned to Anton, her eyes vacant yet also questioning.

“Alright. Let’s find out what that is.”

As they had no idea where to even begin to look they returned to the three librarian women. Most of the students and teachers were already leaving. The three watched those leaving with some elation, elation that evaporated upon witnessing them approaching.

“Yes?”

“We’re looking for something, for an event called the Burning Light.” Anton took a shallow breath. “Do you have any idea what that is?”

“It was a disaster.” The elderly woman at the back spoke softly. “During the early days of the United Empire. Their second largest city, a place we now call Eldfjall Trelleborg, was destroyed, destroyed in a single night.”

“So…Did it create anything?”

The old woman frowned. “I don’t know. There is more information about the United Empire, but that information is restricted. For a reason.” She pointed a bony finger at Anton. “And that writ of yours won’t get you into those.”

“I see.” Anton glanced to the girls. “I think that’s all we’re going to get done today. We’re kind of limited in what we can get here anyway.”

“You wanted books on magic?” The first asked. Anton wasn’t about to correct her. “You cannot take anything from the Library. But you can buy them from outside the Academy.”

She pointed to a young student emerging from the stairwell. Her fingers were stained lightly with ink, ink that refused to shift despite her vigorous rubbing.

“Students can make a decent amount of coin by copying books and diagrams. You should go to those to buy books on Principle Magic, rather than just look at them here.”

“Do you know how extensive those collections are?”

“They have copies of just about every book available to the students and lecturers. Though there are some here that are too dangerous for just anyone to have.”

“Any abilities to summon volcanoes?” Anton asked jokingly.

“Exactly why they are forbidden.” The woman frowned. “Some foolish student would try.”

“I…I see.” Anton smiled. “Thank you for your time.”

The woman imperceptibly nodded as Anton ushered them outside. Though he was all but certain their little foray was rather brief, dusk had almost fallen over the Academy. Outside the white walls small trails of smoke rose into the sky, stoves and heaters preparing for the night. Graterious had yet to have any snow but it was only a matter of time.

"Will Axia be finished with her lessons?" Anton asked. "What sort of lessons would a student have here anyway?"

Mezot looked to the dimming sun. "She should be finished soon. Normally I'm...It will be nice to see her finish rather than her arrive home."

"I'm sure Axia will appreciate it." Verona smiled.

"Was it alright to leave so easily?" Mezot asked, her hands held close to her chest in concern. "You've come all this way only to stop so soon."

Anton shrugged lightly. "We have access to the library essentially whenever we want, and the librarians don't hate us so that'll work in our favour. Besides, you need to work on your thesis before you can help us."

"And how does a Wyrm Heart help?" Cetina asked.

"It's difficult to explain if you don't already understand Principle Magic," Mezot said flatly.

"Okay..."

"But it'll be a few days before I deliver my thesis, even if it works." Mezot frowned lightly. "Until then I won't be able to help with anything."

"You?" Verona raised a brow. "Telling a whole room of people what you've managed to create? And you'll be doing that on your own?"

"That's right." Mezot’s expression remained flat.

Anton truly wondered if Mezot would handle the pressure of scrutinized public speaking, one which would determine her future at the Academy. He doubted he would do well in a similar position but he was certain that Mezot would fumble, if not becoming terrified by being at the centre of attention she wouldn’t be able to convey her thesis well. However her enthusiasm for magic might just carry her through. Maybe. Verona and Cetina shared some of his concerns. Nevertheless, they had to see this through. They had no choice if they wanted a Principle Mage for Atros.