Zach knocked twice on the wooden door of the library room. It only took a moment before a voice called from the other side.

“Come in.”

He pushed the door open, stepping into the candle-lit study. Melijuia sat at a desk, a thick book opened in front of her, her long, dark hair tied up lazily. The smell of old parchment and ink filled the air. She glanced up at him, one eyebrow raised.

“How was training?”

“Insane.” Zach let out a breath as he leaned against the doorframe. “I thought I was going to die at least ten times.”

Melijuia’s gaze swept over him, her lips twitching in amusement. “You don’t look that hurt.”

“Oh, trust me.” He straightened, rolling his shoulders. “Blunt damage. It’s worse than it looks.”

She didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press further.

“Actually,” Zach continued, “I wanted to ask for the empty storage room. I don't have the spare money for it though.”

“And what would I get in return?”

“I’d owe you one.”

She scoffed. “Not good enough. Six silver coins.”

Zach blinked. “Six? That’s double what Abram thought.”

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “This is part of the estate. That room holds value.”

Zach hesitated, his sense of money still fuzzy. “Okay, wait. How much does a plate of food cost?”

“For a basic meal at a common restaurant? Around five bronze coins.”

Zach frowned. “So, the average person makes what… a single silver coin?”

“In the Third City, silver and fifty bronze.” She tapped a finger against her book. “Mapill makes a silver.”

Zach nodded slowly, trying to piece it together.

“You’ve never had a job before?” she asked.

“I swear I already told you,” he said. “Lost my memories, remember?”

She blinked. “Oh. Right.” She shrugged. “Guess I forgot.”

Zach sighed and pulled out a chair, sitting across from her. “By the way, is it okay if I call you Mel?”

Melijuia blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Only my parents called me that when I was a kid. I’m twenty-three. Why would I allow that?”

Zach scratched his head. “Honestly? Every time I think of your name, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m saying it wrong.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Mel is a no.”

“Guess I’ll have to try my best to remember, then.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Melijuia rolled her eyes but didn’t seem too annoyed.

He leaned back. “Anyway, sorry for bothering you while you were studying.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mind. I appreciate talking to you.”

Zach smirked. “Because I’m handsome?”

She laughed.

“No,” she said, amusement in her tone. “Because you say what you think. It’s fun.”

“So, in other words,” he said, “I’m different from other guys.”

She thought for a second before shrugging. “Sure.”

Zach frowned. _That joke doesn’t really work if that book trope doesn’t exist in this world… Guess that’s on me._

Melijuia closed her book with a soft thud and stood. “Do you want to play a game of Fess?”

Zach raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Without answering, she leapt into the air, easily reaching one of the highest shelves. She grabbed a board and landed gracefully, placing it on the table. The board resembled checkers, except the pieces were shaped like small pillars—red and blue.

“Have you ever played?” she asked.

“Nope.”

She motioned for him to pick a color. He grabbed red.

Melijuia slid the board between them, the polished wooden surface smooth under her fingertips. The board itself was a checkerboard pattern, but instead of flat pieces, there were small pillars—twelve red, twelve blue—carved with tiny intricate symbols. She gestured at them as she spoke.

“The goal is to get rid of all your opponent’s pillars,” she explained.

Zach studied the pieces, picking one up. It was heavier than he expected. “So… that’s done by making contact with the squares on the board?”

She gave a small nod. “Pretty much. But you can only move diagonally, and every third turn, you can shift one of your own pillars to an adjacent space. Pillars that are stacked take priority over solo ones. And if you manage to surround an opponent’s piece on three sides, it’s removed from play.”

Zach absorbed the rules quickly, rolling his shoulders. “Might as well name is checkers.” He smirked. “Ima whoop you.”

Melijuia raised an eyebrows.“Checkers?”

He met her gaze confidently. “Ignore that. Anyway, let's start..”

He grabbed a red pillar and twirled it between his fingers. “Go first, I'm feeling gentlemanly.”

Zach’s confidence lasted precisely six moves before he realized something was very, _very_ wrong.

Melijuia played fast—too fast. She wasn’t just reacting to his moves; she was predicting them, shifting her pieces before he even realized why. Every time he thought he had a decent attack lined up, she dismantled it effortlessly.

“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath as she removed another one of his pillars with a calculated move.

Her expression remained neutral, but there was a glint of amusement in her violet eyes. “You talk a lot for someone who’s losing.”

“I’m just letting you build up false confidence,” he said, feigning indifference.

She stacked one of her blue pillars onto another, solidifying control over a section of the board. “Oh? And when does your comeback start?”

“Any second now.”

“Mm.”

Another move. Another piece lost.

Zach groaned, rubbing his face. “This game is rigged.”

“Sure.”

“No, I’m serious. You knew exactly how I was gonna play.”

She shrugged, picking up another piece. “I just read patterns quickly. You’re impulsive, which means you play aggressively. But you don’t defend well, and you don’t consider how to control space.” She placed her pillar down with a quiet tap. “That’s why you lost.”

Zach squinted at her. “I hate how reasonable you make that sound.”

She let out a quiet laugh. “Want to go again?”

He stared at the board. His competitive side wanted to say yes, to try again, to prove he could adapt. But exhaustion was catching up to him, settling into his muscles. His thoughts were starting to blur.

“Nah,” he admitted, stretching in his chair. “I’ll beat you next time.”

Melijuia didn’t argue, only giving him a small, knowing smile as she stood and gathered the board.

---

Zach woke up with a start.

The library was quiet. Dim.

Blinking groggily, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

The board was gone.

Melijuia was gone.

For a second, he just stared at the empty table, mind sluggish. Then, reality came crashing down.

“Crap.”

He was supposed to spend the night training in inner manipulation.

Zach ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He’d gotten distracted, wasted time.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to focus. He needed to sense _something_—even the faintest trace of energy within himself.

Minutes passed. Then hours.

Still nothing.

His fingers curled into fists.

“This has to be one of those things that’s a biological trait…” he muttered under his breath.

And if that was true… then no amount of practice was going to change that.

The thought made his stomach sink.