“That is all for class. You are excused.”

It had only been two days since we had come back from the primordial fight, tired and bloody, and already Lasi had fully returned to the same gruff teacher persona that he was infamous for at this school. At least he’d shown some sign of the fight affecting him—he’d been recovering, and as such had not mandated us to spar today.

I’d only spent a day or two with him as of this class, but near-death situations had a habit of giving me a better understanding of the people I went through them with. Jasmine and Lasi had both benefited from that, in my eyes, and I felt that I understood them much better than a lot of my other fellow classmates. Now, the mask that Lasi maintained during classtime was almost painfully obvious to see, and I had to wonder if he was just having us on for a laugh or if he actively avoided building strong relationships with his students. After all, he had reacted somewhat poorly to a student of his dying, and something told me that wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with a situation like that.

I waved to him as I left, and he waved back with a nod, a hint of the jovial man underneath slipping through a crack in his facade.

Jasmine had asked me to go meet her inside the library rather than at its front, today. I’d only been inside once, when I had been picking up the required reading earlier this year, but even then it’d left an impression.

It was a truly massive building, five stories tall, and it gave a sense of regality in a way that no other campus building did. Even the entrance area was unnecessarily furnished, each corner of the square-shaped room featuring a different marble statue of the founders of the four primary magical schools of thought. The statues were tall. The reception room’s walls were stacked with books on mundane topics, ones that wouldn’t be missed if a non-student trespassed in here and stole them, and even then they were still seven or eight meters tall. Each statue nearly reached the ceiling of the room, and it granted them a sense of presence. I recognized the visage of Kai Cere in the back left corner, the bespectacled scholar staring down at the mortals beneath his feet. I wasn’t superstitious, but even I found it a little disquieting.

“May I see your identification?” The receptionist behind the solid-oak counter today was another student, a boy a little older than me with a mess of uncombed brown hair. He looked genuinely interested in his job, though, which was more than most people of this sort could say.

I held out my arm, hand facing outward. The student clasped me by the wrist, his hand cloaked in a thick leather glove. A spell pattern inscribed on its side started to glow faintly, and the glove grew warm. The runes ignited abruptly, and I winced as a bright flash of heat singed my wrist.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said.

I shook my arm out. The pain would go away soon, but it was still a rather irritating part of every verification.

The student intern looked down beneath the counter and took the glove off, pressing the Aedi oath-made device to another one. A few moments passed, red light illuminating his face. I walked closer to the counter and leaned over it, trying to get a peek at the machinery, but at the glance of the second device—an unassuming metal cube that was absolutely covered in spell patterns—I stepped back. I wouldn’t even pretend to understand how it worked.

“Lily Syashan,” the receptionist said. “First year, unknown oath. You’re clear to enter.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I pushed my way through a pair of thick wooden doors reinforced with iron.

The inside was, in a word, breathtaking. I’d heard in passing that the Yaguan Mage University had copies of every published manuscript in existence, and as I took it in for the second time I could see where they’d gotten that impression. The building was shaped like a long hallway, two hundred meters wide and at least four times that in length. There were five levels to the library, and each one of them had a ring of balconies, the individual balconies as wide around as an entire classroom. Each balcony was connected to the ones above and around it. A series of intricately carven bridges made a trail around and through the dens of books, and spiral stairways connected the five balconies in each column.

The columns of five, if I remembered correctly, each represented a genre or topic, while the individual balconies that composed the columns held subgenres and specific focuses. Jasmine had told me to meet her at the fourth floor of the history column, and it took me a while to find it. There were thirty or forty columns, and even though they were labelled, those labels were not large enough to be legible across a hundred meters of the ground floor, especially when that ground floor was packed full of its own obstacles. A dozen small coffee shops and eateries had made this place their home, endorsed by the university, and open lounges with sofas and tables aplenty had sprouted up over the years to seat their customers. The expansive ceiling of the library held a number of skylights, allowing sunshine into the ground floor. The library ground floor was a relatively popular place to study and meet, and even now the lounges were packed full of students gathering.

The sound of chatter and laughter didn’t make for the worst backdrop as I searched for the column, but it wasn’t something that I wanted to spend an extended period of time immersing myself in. People were fine in moderation, but too much of them and it could get tiring fast.

I eventually found the history column after nearly ten minutes of searching. It was all the way in the back of the building. The people had started to thin out, the majority of students not wanting to spend the time making their way all the way down here, but there was still a decent crowd.

The first floor “balcony” had an arch to mark the entrance. I walked through it, heading for the spiral staircase in its center, and as I passed the threshold the background noise decreased in intensity. A magical effect of some sort?

Even the staircase was elegant, polished wooden slabs extending out of a central pillar. I ran a hand along the railing as I walked, appreciating the fine craftsmanship and material with which it had been made. Emberwood, if I had my woods right.

I ascended through balcony after balcony. They were built similarly, but there were enough differences for them to be clearly unique. The central designs of the balconies were all fundamentally the same. Three walls of shelves filled floor to ceiling with books, sorted by the first name of the author; a number of comfortable chairs, arranged a little differently with each level; a set of oathlights, illuminating the balconies even at night; and a display case, its contents items that I wasn’t terribly sure were directly related to the content of the balcony. The latter was interesting to look at, though—a rock that had supposedly fallen from the skies, a rusted sword from an ancient Tryorian king, and an inert magical stone, one of the oldest surviving oath-batteries, for the first three floors.

I only passed three people as I walked up, a single group playing cards on the second level. They waved to me as I continued up the stairs, and I acknowledged them with a nod but nothing more.

The fourth level was already occupied. Jasmine had gotten there before me, and she was already lying down in a loveseat, a paper bag at a coffee table by her side and a thick book in her hands, which she was holding above her face. I felt a little warmth in my heart, at that. She looked so carefree.

“A Treatise on the Naan’ti System, huh,” I said, peering at the cover. “Going for something a little more niche, today?”

“Lily!” Jasmine said, rising to her feet and setting the book down. “You can’t imagine how unimaginably dry this book is. Come on, take a seat.”

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She’d been lying down, but now she cleared a second spot on the couch. She patted it, looking at me expectantly.

“What did you call me here for?” I asked, taking the proffered seat. It was a little bit of a squeeze, my side pressed against hers, but I didn’t mind the contact. “A little change in our venue, today.”

“What, I can’t call my friend over to chat?” Jasmine said, pretending to take offense. “After all, we’ve already cleared ML 1 by a lot. We have time.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” I said.

“Here,” Jasmine said, grabbing the bag. “I got some pastries from the eateries below. Have something.”

She handed me a pastry. It didn’t look like anything special, but it was filled with a sweet cream and it was delicious. I ate it slowly, savoring it, and I saw Jasmine doing the same with hers.

“What’s happening?” I asked between bites. “You’re fully recovered, right?”

“Almost,” Jasmine said. “The healer said there’s a bit of residue in my shoulder that they can’t really do anything about. Nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so,” I said with a frown. “As long as it doesn’t impede your combat ability, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It probably won’t,” Jasmine said. “Hopefully.”

“Why the location?” I asked. “The Southern History section?”

“It’s quiet, private, and I had some reading to do,” Jasmine said. “I like this library. If you find a good nook, you can have plenty of space to yourself.”

“Quiet and private, huh…” I trailed off. There was something to be made out of that, but I ignored it for now.

“That aside, I do have some news,” Jasmine said.

She took her time finishing her pastry, and once she was finished, she took a napkin out of the bag, dabbing at her mouth slowly.

The silence started to stretch, and I wondered what news she had that would make her delay like this.

“Not about adventuring, I assume,” I said, prompting her to speak. “Otherwise, I would imagine we would meet somewhere else.”

“It’s a messy affair,” Jasmine grimaced. “An issue with the nobility.”

If she hadn’t had my attention before, she definitely did now. “The nobility? How major?”

“We’re... House Rayes has recalled all of its sons and daughters,” Jasmine said, hurrying through the words like they burned her tongue. “I have reason to believe that House Varga is committing to the same course of action, which means Alex and Lukas are likely returning as well.”

“What the hell? What would make that happen?” Recalling House members from their posts was rare, and multiple Houses doing it simultaneously was near unprecedented.

She reached forward to the coffee table, brushing against my arm as she did so. I was unnaturally cognizant of the contact, the hairs on my exposed skin bristling. I found myself staring at Jasmine. She was wearing the same silken red top with the House Rayes crest emblazoned on it that she always took to school, and she once again was wearing a pleated skirt—it was pink today. It wasn’t anything different from what she normally wore, and yet I found my face getting warm anyway. I glanced away, hoping she wouldn’t see it.

“Look at this,” Jasmine said.

I looked back at her, and I could feel myself getting warmer.

She passed a thick scroll of paper into my hands, heedless of the embarrassment that must’ve showed on my face.

No, not paper, I realized. This was proper parchment, a traditional writing material that only the most excessive people would use. Nobles, I thought, not for the last time.

I unfurled the scroll. It was an unnecessary amount of parchment for not all that much text.

My dearest daughter,

House Rayes formally requests your presence at the estate. Recent developments in the royal family demand the utmost attention from the Noble Houses of Tayan.

It is with great regret that I inform you that Kiri Tayan, the Crown Prince, was assassinated in his sleep last week. Ensuing events in the capital have forced us to recall our children from their positions across the kingdom.

I know this will come as a surprise to you, but the Crown seeks us. We must confer and examine our next steps.

Your loving mother,

- Carla Rayes

“The Crown Prince is dead,” I said, reading it. “Didn’t he just gain that title a few years back?”

“The title of Crown Prince is a blessing and a curse,” Jasmine said. “With great power comes a great number of people who want what’s yours. I knew Kiri when he was younger… it’s a tragedy.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “So you’re heading back to the estate, then? How far will you be?”

“The Rayes city is thirty kilometers from here,” Jasmine said. “We’re situated quite close to the capital.”

Dakheng, the seat of the Crown. Yaguan was a larger city and generally regarded the capital in practice, but there was no denying the importance of the true capital of Tayan. It also was a place that was rarely frequented by anyone other than traders if there wasn’t a crisis.

“This is big, huh?” I asked.

“Quite so,” Jasmine said. “Kiri was different from the last Crown Prince in that he was genuinely a good candidate for the throne.”

“So what’s the issue?” I asked. “Why the fuss? Last I checked, succession should just go to the next oldest child.”

“Kiri was found stabbed to death in his bed,” Jasmine said, any trace of light-heartedness from earlier gone. “The royal castle is more protected than anything else in the entire kingdom.”

“It was someone from the inside,” I grasped. “Then shouldn’t they just assemble everyone that was in the castle that day?”

“There are two—no, three more issues,” Jasmine sighed. “The first is that there was a massive party the day before he died, which means a lot of nobility were gathered in one place. The second is that records from the last month have been irreversibly altered or destroyed.”

“That would warrant a deeper search,” I said. “But a full recall?”

Jasmine grimaced. “The third issue is that the commoners in the capital have caught wind of the news.”

“Rumor travels fast among us,” I agreed. “Is that an issue?”

“Some of them… some of them are crying out for more,” Jasmine said. “There’s a messaging device in my house that links back to the estate. Car—my mother contacted me while I was getting ready for school today, and she told me that there’s rioting in the streets. They say it could be rebellion.”

“It’s not just against the Crown,” I realized. “Otherwise there’d be no need to go this far.”

“They want to end nobility,” Jasmine said. “And while I can’t say their arguments are baseless, bloodshed will go nowhere.”

“A murder mystery inside the circle of the nobility and a crisis outside,” I summarized. “I could see where that would be a problem.”

“It’s nothing that we haven’t dealt with before,” Jasmine said. “I should be back within a week. Alex and Lukas were probably going to go back anyway, since the latter needs a new arm.”

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone,” I joked, nudging her shoulder. “Hope you all figure it out alright.”

Truth be told, I had half a mind to go and join the commoners in the Dakheng streets. Rationally, though, I knew that their cause was likely doomed. Villager revolutions were a dime a dozen, and I’d seen a couple of them fail when I was a child. When the convention of nobility inevitably decided to “get those ungrateful peasants out of our way,” the streets would run red with the blood of those who dared defy their noble overlords. There was just no way that untrained civilians, most of whom would not be oathholders, could stand against the massed fury of the royal military.

It was unfortunate, but that was life. I’d make my play when I was actually positioned to do something.

“I’ll be fine,” Jasmine said, waving a hand. “I’ll likely be made to attend a party, help support my House’s image, and then the others will figure something out and I’ll be back.”

“Don’t kill too many villagers,” I said, half-joking. “I’ll be angry.”

She took my statement at face value, and she turned to me, her face set. “I will do my utmost to prevent excess loss of life.”

I blinked, then nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a noble with better morals.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jasmine smiled. “Anyway, I’ll be leaving tonight. You can have the house to yourself for the next week. Don’t party too hard.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Take care of yourself.”

Jasmine made to get up, but she only made it partway out of the seat before collapsing back into it. She sighed softly. “I don’t want to go just yet.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “When do you need to be there by?”

“Tomorrow morning. It’s only fifteen kilometers or so. Less of a matter of me getting ready on time and more about my getting to the train on time.”

“Then we can stay here a while,” I said. “Anything good to read?”

“Yes, actually,” Jasmine said. “There’s some crossover between columns. Southern history includes quite a bit about the Naan’ti school of magic, which might be an interesting read.”

“Didn’t you say the book you were reading earlier was dry?” I asked, poking her shoulder.

“Yes, but that wasn’t the only one there was,” she said. “Here.”

She stood up and walked over to another table, where there were a veritable mountain of thick books stacked neatly in columns.

“I read these the last few times I was here,” Jasmine said. “This one might be of use to you.”

Jasmine returned to the loveseat, sitting down with a little less poise than she usually maintained. She looked tired, and even though she’d not said much about it, I could tell this issue was affecting her.

“Unstructured Magic in the Naan’ti School,” I read. “I was planning to read this at some point, actually.”

“Good taste,” Jasmine said.

We each cracked open our respective books and started reading, comfortable in our closeness. After a while, I felt her head rest on my shoulder, her long blonde hair tickling my arm.

“Can we stay like this a little longer?” she asked.

“Take all the time you need,” I told her.