Department Of Spirit Communion Studies.

Engraved with large golden letters atop a square arch that was guarding the entrance. Below it were two enormous iron doors with thousands of skulls sculpted into the material. I imagined they stood out as a warning to any intruders that might want to take a peek inside.

However, I wasn't an intruder. I came here for an interview with a sage.

I shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and pushed the doors forward. They opened with surprising ease, no sound and no resistance. It was like wading through a fair cloud. I gawked at the two erect iron plates like an idiot. Maybe the doors were magic.

In front of me a fantastic view opened up. Shiny marble tiles extended in all directions, reflecting the dancing chandelier lights. The chandeliers themselves were made out of hundreds of bones. Human and animal. Some candles were held in the mouths of dead beasts and some were inserted into the eye cavities of human skulls. The centrepiece was an enormous dragon-like skeleton suspended above the hall. Human skulls floated upside down, below the dragon skeleton, hanging by a thread. Inside of the skulls blazed neon green flames that casted eerie shadows onto the labyrinth of ebony bookshelves that littered the hall.

The books themselves were bound in exotic leather and often had bones affixed to their backs. Some were even composed entirely out of bones. This library, unlike the Mana Library, was built in squares that formed around tall stone obelisks. On those obelisks were etched foundational theses. The bookshelves that surround a specific obelisk are disputations that support it or findings that build upon it. DSCS (department of Spirit Communion Studies ) doesn't worship writers the way DMR (department of mana research) does. Here the entire library is constructed around practicality. Hundreds of books don't even have an author because of their controversial nature.

After an hourglass flip or so I realised the real reason the library was organised in this way. Lecter the Wise, coming from DMR, misrepresented the DSCS. In its early days the Theory Of Spirit Communion was extremely unpopular. That was because Nekros Of Akkad came across first empirical evidence for the existence of spirits while researching corpse possession.

Allegedly, he was attacked by a stray wizard who wielded an army of floating bone creatures. A wizard is a magic practitioner from a long lost empire that supposedly dominated the continent before the Millennial King arose to power. The hate for these practitioners of esoteric arts was culturally transmitted via stories and sayings but the actual historical evidence was erased through time.

For example everybody has heard of the saying: "How many wizards does it take to light a bonfire?"

The answer is usually: "None. The flaming ruins of Akkadian villages, they burned down, are warm enough."

So, after surviving the perilous attack, Nekros decided to find a way to defend himself against such vile trickery. He dug deep into Sumer's catacombs, where he found a set of stone tablets that described a process of turning a dragon corpse into an undead minion. He then inferred the Theory Of Spirit Communion and proved it with empirical studies later on.

After the theory was established it became widely criticised by the other schools of thought. The DMR hated the non-mechanistic nature of the theory and the clergy hated the desecration of corpses and the implications of such a theory. Early DSCS scholars often had to wage duels with their life on the line.

In such an environment it only makes sense that the library is oriented around teaching the apprentices about the most basic intellectual defences first.

I flipped the hourglass and sighed: "One more flip and my fate will be decided."

The candleholder that illuminated my table was toppled by a sudden gust of wind. The flame was extinguished and the hot wax flooded the dark ebony table.

I stood up, turned around and standing there was a relatively young sage. Next to him was a swaying golden skull, suspended midair by some unknown force. Its eye cavities shone with a dreary green. Chained to the skull was a blackstone tablet. The sage's tassel had a tiny golden square tied to its end. Something I wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't this close.

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"The candidate before you was done with the interview in record time so I came to get you."

"I hope I get accepted as well," I carefully prodded.

"He wasn't accepted. He was a spy so we turned him into a human candle."

Dread suddenly gripped my heart. What have I gotten myself into? I should have just stayed home in my castle!

"Well, that's reassuring," I snarkily replied.

When in a negotiation with an intelligent, highly conscientious person, sarcasm and jokes are a great way to lower his guard. You want to make him think the cards you hold are worthless. Convince him that he's in control, make him think you're working in his benefit, then when he turns his back you blow his head with a revolver that's been hiding in your ankle holster.

Not my first hostage negotiation.

"Don't worry, you managed to take on Grimar's challenge. You'll be fine."

Seems like he knows when to defuse the situation. He definitely wasn't joking about the human candle but he's not lying about this either. I guess I'll trust him for now.

I let go of the hidden blade and continued on as if nothing had happened.

"Do you have a good relationship with him?"

The sage lifted one of his eyebrows for a moment but continued as if he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

"Grimar is a bit of an idiot but he's not as stupid as he makes himself look."

So there was more beyond that empty glance of Grimar's. No, impossible. I never misjudge people. It must be someone behind him. Maybe one of his wives? The sage might be just trying to throw me off.

We finally arrived at the end of the corridor. The wooden door blocking our path opened by itself, revealing a spacious study room nicely lined with sky high bookshelves arranged around a square mahogany table.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I responded in confusion.

"Just like I predicted," the sage pointed at someone behind me.

I turned around and almost lost my balance as a horrible stench of alcohol hit me. Behind me appeared a short bearded old man. His long white beard was almost reaching his belt. He was wearing a crimson nightgown stained with alcohol and in his hand was an opened flask. The man was shorter than me. Almost a dwarf but definitely the height of a teenager.

He ran toward the table, stumbling as if he was heavily drunk. He smashed his flask onto the table, drenching the leatherbound encyclopaedia resting there.

"You can't do this to me! Remember, we are brothers! We went through so much together. It's not my fault things turned out this way…"

His snot flew all over the table as the old man flew to his knees and started crying. The younger sage pushed him off of the table and he fell to the ground, quietly sobbing.

"Don't mind him. He's the former grandsage that founded the department you just inherited."

"I inherited what?!"

The sage ignored me and kept scribbling onto the blackstone tablet.

I stood there petrified. Things were not supposed to go like this. Everything was moving too fast. I was just trying to find a department that I could join. I looked at the sage who was hard at work inscribing something onto the blackstone. A stone used exclusively for contracts. I dreaded the next words that would come out of his mouth.

"You were rejected by the clergical department right? They probably told you that they can't accept someone who has been severed from the infinite One."

"How did you know?"

"It's quite obvious. You'll realise it in time as well. You're not welcome in this city. You are of low status and this is the royal capital. As materialistic as the DMR is they'll never accept someone below the rank of high nobility. After all, they're competing with the clergy and those monks won't accept someone who doesn't hear the ravings. You're left with us. However, if you're deaf to the voices then you must be blind to the spirits as well."

"It's true that I don't hear the voices but blindness doesn't make any sense. Surely there's something I can do," I grasped at the last straws.

"That candle holder was knocked over by a ghost, entry doors are operated by spirit guardians, and the door to my office is possessed. The better your senses are the higher a candidate's chances of being accepted into my school. No amount of duels and trickery changes the fact that you have no talent."

"So, here's the deal. You're a smart man and so I will be direct with you," he continued unperturbed.

"I will give you this empty department that implodes in five years. You can register your workshop under it or you can sell off all the resources and run the damn thing into the ground."

He stopped scribbling and the blackstone tablet shone in a golden colour, displaying the newly composed contract.

I looked at him and then at the drunk sobbing old man on the ground. I weighed my choices and in the end my gaze ended up fixated on the golden words. I slowly extended my hand towards the pen…