“Right on time, Mr. Roth,” Professor Jules said.

The slight, white-haired professor was standing outside the registrar's office holding a bulging satchel.

“Morning, professor,” Alex said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, all things considered,” she said wearily. “Now, then, shall we proceed?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Alex said, frowning. “What’s the protocol for giving someone access to the ninth-floor, professor? For the other floors, all you need is a professor to sign off that you can cast that tier of spell, but—as far as I know—only Baelin’s powerful enough to cast ninth-tier spells, right? So, does that mean he’s the only one who can give permission?”

“It is a little more complicated than that,” the professor said. “The entire faculty has access to every single floor of the library, as do certain other staff members. However, we cannot give permission for a student to access any floor above seventh. Not on our own.”

“So, what happens in that case?” Alex asked.

“We would have to fill out a lot of paperwork—and I do mean a lot.” Professor Jules grimaced at her satchel. “And then take it to be approved by either the chancellor—or in the event of his absence—the registrar. If the registrar is absent as well, then every faculty member collectively must sign the permission documents for the matter to move forward, but since Registrar Hobb is here, that will not be necessary. He can approve your application…though he might require you to show that you're capable of ninth-tier spells.”

“I thought that might happen,” Alex said. “Um…how often is this procedure used?”

“Very rarely. Extremely rarely,” Professor Jules said. “Archwizards do not exactly grow on trees, Mr. Roth, and I imagine that you could probably count the number of times a student has become an archwizard—before their graduation—on a single hand, in spite of our long history. You are in a very exclusive club.”

“Wow,” Alex said. “I feel honoured—”

“Could you feel honoured inside the registrar’s office?” She raised an eyebrow. “I have been up most of the night, and I would dearly love to sit down. Besides, we have about two minutes until our appointment begins, and if you know Registrar Hobb, you’ll know that he would rather us be slightly early—preferably exactly on time—rather than late, even by a second.”

“Oh jeez, sorry, let's get in there then.”

Professor Jules knocked on the door, and Hobb’s familiar voice called, “Come iiiin.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound at all sinister,” Alex muttered as she opened the door.

Whenever Alex had met with Hobb, it had always been at the front desk near the main entrance of the castle. He had never been in the registrar’s office before.

It was small—almost uncomfortably so—and bare of decoration. Each piece of furniture was practical, and unadorned. The bookshelf to the right of the entrance was forged of solid iron and filled with leather bound tomes. In front of it were two chairs, and beyond them, stood Hobbs’s desk piled high with mounds of paperwork.

A large window allowed sunlight to stream into the room, falling on the devil’s back as he hunched over his desk.

He peered up owlishly, adjusting his monocle. “There you are. Almost precisely at nine in the morning. Please have a seat and I will be with you once our appointment officially begins.”

Professor Jules and Alex took their seats in front of his desk.

There was silence for a bit, only broken by Hobb’s scratching pen and the ticking of a timekeeper. Alex frowned, looking around.

He found no evidence of a timekeeper anywhere.

“Alright, then.” The registrar put down his pen, looking up at Alex. His eyebrows rose. “Your spirit has changed.”

The young wizard paused. “Wait, what now?”

The devil watched him closely. “You are still branded…but it’s different now. Like baggage has been lifted. My, my. So you did it, then. Congratulations!”

“Oh, can you sense…the Mark?” Alex asked.

“Now that I know what to look for, yes,” Hobb said smoothly. “It's all vague, but I can tell that your soul has changed. It does not take a genius to figure out what that would mean, considering your goals. Well done, young man.”

He looked at Professor Jules next. “So, Professor Vernia Jules, Department Head of Alchemy, your emergency communication stated that we are to give Mr. Roth access to the highest levels of the library.” He paused, then grinned. “Or should I say the lowest, considering how our library is oriented.”

“That's right,” the professor said, handing over the paperwork.

“And for what tier?” Hobb asked.

“Ninth.”

Hobb paused, his attention returning to Alex. “Do you recall our very first conversation?”

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

“You did leave an impression,” Alex admitted.

“I tend to.” Hobb said. “I once told you that one day you might set up your own tower and bend the forces of the cosmos to your unbreakable will.”

“Yeah, you did say that.” Alex leaned back. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Maybe a lifetime by the reckoning of mice,” the devil said. “But, in a mouse’s lifetime, you have gotten to the point where you could bend the forces of the cosmos to your unbreakable will. If what your professor is saying hasn’t been exaggerated, that is. You are not lying to her, are you? There are some who try to fake skill in order to gain access to our rarest magical tomes.”

“No,” Alex shook his head quickly. “I really can cast ninth-tier spells.”

“Hmmmm, I see. I see.” Hobb took in all of Professor Jules's paperwork in a few glances.

The alchemist scoffed. “If only those documents were as quick for me to fill out as they are for you to read.”

“Not all things can be hurried,” Hobb said, finishing the stack of paperwork. “Well, that's all in order. I'll have to ask you to demonstrate a ninth-tier spell for me, Mr. Roth.”

“Alright…but uh…in here's a little cramped,” Alex pointed out.”

Hobb jerked his finger to the right. “Over there should do nicely.”

The young wizard frowned, confused. “You mean the bookshe…” His words trailed off. “…I should know better than to be surprised anymore.”

Where the bookshelf had been only a moment before, there was now a hallway leading to a vast room beyond it. It resembled one of the Cells, but was double that size, with a complex summoning circle in the middle of the floor.

The room hadn’t been there a heartbeat earlier.

“You’ve got some neat tricks,” Alex remarked.

“As do you,” Hobb rose from his chair. “The energy from your growing demigoddess seems capable of things that would make Chancellor Baelin jealous, eventually. And I hope that you manage to make him irritated. He sometimes gets entirely too smug for his own good.”

“Doesn't he, though?” Professor Jules agreed, rising from her chair and stepping into the testing room. “Smug old goat.”

“That he is,” Hobb said.

“Uh…” Alex paused. “I actually really like him, and I kind of think he deserves to be a little smug, to be fair. I mean, I can be a little smug sometimes. Even you two can be a little smug sometimes…and we're all powerful. So just a little smugness goes with that, you know? Just a little, as a treat.”

“Alright, you’ve made your point, Mr. Roth,” Professor Jules said in a chilly tone.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave it alone.” He held up his hands in surrender then turned to Hobb as they neared the middle of the testing chamber. “So I'm going to cast a summoning spell, but I won't need the protective circle.”

“I should hope not, if you're truly an archwizard,” Hobb said. “What will you be summoning?”

“So the most powerful thing I can summon is busy at the moment…killing things. Probably a lot of things, for the next few days. So what I'll summon instead is an astral engel—” He paused, looking at Hobb questioningly, “—wait, that's okay, right? I mean, considering…”

Hobb’s laugh was a deep, eerie sound, running through the room. “That I'm a devil?” he chuckled. “Why, yes. I am a devil. And a simple engeli would not be enough to curdle my essence with offence.”

“Alright, just wanted to be polite,” Alex said, turning to the centre of the room.

Raising a hand, he chanted the incantation for the ninth-tier spell: Summon Astral Engeli.

It flowed from him with ease, and he felt holy power filling the area as a familiar presence came down from the celestial planes.

A flash of light announced the beautiful engeli entering the room, holding his flaming sword.

“Archwizard,” the engeli lowered his head. “I am here to serve. What evil shall we conquer next?”

“No evil to conquer today,” Alex said. “I just wanted to use your presence for a little demonstration.”

The young wizard gestured to Hobb.

With a sidelong glance—followed by a double take—the engeli recoiled from the devil.

Hobb gave the celestial a little wave. “Hello.”

“Ugh,” the engeli made a sound. “An offensive presence.”

“I am not too fond of you either, one beneath the wheel of burning eyes.” Hobb glanced at the engeli’s halo.

The celestial looked like he was going to respond, when Alex interrupted.

“I think, uh, we can leave it at that, right?” the young wizard asked. “I mean, that should be enough for the demonstration?”

“More than enough…” The devil looked at Alex with interest and a raised pair of eyebrows. He actually looked impressed.

“Perfect,” Alex said, looking at the engeli. “I'll summon you again when it's more pleasant for you.”

“Thank you, archwizard.” The engeli bowed as Alex dismissed him.

When the celestial faded, loud applause reverberated through the room. Registrar Hobb was all smiles—one so broad that it almost split his face in two and showed far too many teeth—while he clapped enthusiastically.

“Well done! Well done!” the registrar’s voice thundered through the chamber. “You are the third student—in all of Generasi’s history—to become an archwizard before graduation! Magnificent! You should call great armies to you! Raise the curtain of magic and drive the dead from their graves! Tame a dragon and fly upon its back, devastating the world with your—”

“Registar Hobb!” Professor Jules cut-in. “Will you stop trying to influence the students in worthlessness! The time of necromancer-warlords—pettily squabbling over petty fiefs—is long gone. Try not to ruin Mr. Roth: the old goat is a bad enough influence as it is!”

“I am simply trying to…” A look crossed Hobb’s face, one that said more than his words. “Oh, never mind. Either way, congratulations, Mr. Roth. Please give me your student card.”

Alex fished it out, giving the card to the devil.

In a tongue of devils—a very old tongue—Hobb waved a hand over it. “Let this one know the full knowledge of our institution. Let its full power be at his beck and call.”

The identification card flashed once.

When the light faded, it had turned to sparkling crystal.

“It’s not too often that I’ve had the opportunity to issue one of these,” Hobb said, handing the card back.

“Let me guess, only the third time ever, right?” Alex asked.

“Why, yes,” Hobb chuckled. “Either way, welcome to the ranks of those with grand, cosmic power. You might think that this is the end of your journey, but understand that it will be a beginning. It will be different—probably much slower—but Baelin has never stopped his ascension to higher tiers of understanding. Will you?”

“No way…” Alex paused, again struck by questions about his future. “Say…and you'll have to forgive me, Professor Jules, but I'm curious. What were you trying to teach me earlier, Hobb?”

Professor Jules rolled her eyes. “You are simply obsessed with the worst influences.”

Hobb chuckled. “He has made his choice, Professor Jules. ” He looked at Alex, all humour fading. “What I was trying to teach you—from one powerful being to another—is pride.”

“Pride?” Alex repeated.

“Oh, this sounds wholesome,” Professor Jules nodded.

“It is not,” Hobb said. “Which is the point. My young archwizard, how do you feel?”

“Good?” Alex asked.

“I mean, compared to how you felt when you first entered the university. Not in an emotional sense, but in a sense of your essence. Of who you are? How do you feel? Who are you?”

“Alex Roth,” the young wizard said. “And I feel the same as I always have.”

“And that, my friend, will get you into trouble with creatures like myself,” Hobb smiled. “If you do not heed my words carefully, I doubt you will survive your next trial.”