Any sorcerers of draconic bloodlines slowly went mad after passing the mountains, corrupted by the captured Avatar's power. This was the beginning of the schism.

-Tallen Elmheart, On Mages

—

Kole woke, briefly confused to where he was. The room was pitch black, and he smelled the distinct odor of books—musty paper with a hint of leather.

Slowly, his memories of the previous night returned along with the realization he was supposed to meet Amara at the commencement. He rose quickly and fumbled around in the dark in search of the light orb he’d been given. Just as he was about to give up on finding it and spend all his Will for the day on a Light cantrip, he found the smooth object and flooded it with his Will.

The light was momentarily blinding as he overloaded it until his eyes adjusted, and he looked over the ground to gather the books he’d been studying.

They were gone. Panic took hold of him briefly, as he wondered why someone would have stolen them, but he then noticed that the shelves around him were completely full once again.

Did the librarian shelve these around my sleeping body?

He thought back to his interactions with the librarian, and he realized he’d never seen her or any others shelve a book. Books had been piled up on the ends of tables, and they had paid them no heed.

He put the mystery aside and ran out of the hall. When he saw the light of the newer section ahead, he turned off his own light and turned invisible. He didn’t know the rules about spending the night in the library and decided to learn those before he risked exposure.

With practiced ease, he navigated around the sparsely populated library, slipping out the wooden gate as quietly as possible. The inattentive attendants didn’t even glance up at the quiet rattle of the gate. Once out of the tower, Kole found a secluded bush and became visible once more. He placed the device Amara had made for him from his pocket and began to follow its lead. The campus was full of students and adults milling about, and by the sun’s position, he’d certainly missed the morning’s events.

He picked up the pace, not sure how Amara would react to being stood up. He suspected she would understand, but he didn’t know her well enough to be sure. The device led Kole towards the crafting quarter of the campus, to a large white tent set up just outside the front entrance. Kole moved to enter when a waiter stepped in his way.

“I’m sorry, this area is invite-only,” the man said apologetically.

“I’m looking for my friend. She’s inside, could you tell her I’m here? She’s a new apprentice to Professor... Dopple—no. She’s part elven, has a rat familiar. She’s hard to miss.”

The waiter's eyes lit with recognition of the description, and he left to deliver the message.

Dongledoor! Kole thought, proud to have remembered the name.

Amara came out shortly after.

“I’m sorry!” Kole said before she could speak. “I fell asleep in the library and lost track of time.

Amara’s expression had been reserved, waiting to decide if she was mad or not, and at his words, it settled on ’not.’

“That’s alright. I sat with Professor Donglefore’s other students. It was fun, we talked about runes. You look hungry, do you need to eat?”

Donglefore...

“Um, yeah. But I can’t come in.”

“That's aright, I can come out,” Amara said.

She went back inside and returned shortly with a plate of food, the small hors d'oeuvres that one would serve at a party on trays before a meal.

They found a tree, and they sat, Gus climbing out of his hiding spot on Amara’s back to inspect Kole’s meal. He handed the rat a piece of sausage wrapped in bacon and got comfortable.

“You missed quite the event,” Amara began. “They set up this wonderful tent on the green, suspended by runes! It floated and covered enough area to seat all the new students. There were hundreds! Humans, elves, half-elves, halflings, dwarves and seafolk! I even thought I saw a few demonkin and a voidling—I think. The heads of each college stood on a stage and talked, but there was an empty chair for the Chancellor in the center. Apparently, they are some ancient adventurer who rarely makes an appearance. The speeches were actually a little dull—except for Professor Donglefore’s of course, but it got a little exciting at the end. The head of the martial college is a giant from the Iron Vein tribe named Tigereye, covered in tattoos! He spoke about how academics are a form of Contest, and how he was in charge of academic integrity, and spoke at length about the punishments for cheating—I don’t recommend it.”

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“That doesn’t sound exciting,” Kole said, giving more food to Gus.

“That wasn’t it. The exciting part was when the head of the art college, a small human woman, pushed the giant man aside and interrupted his speech. I think she was intoxicated and told everyone that they should all make sure to have fun this year. She also made a lot of comments about Professor Tigereye’s physique. She went on and on until Professor Donglefore canceled the runes that were amplifying her voice. Then while we ate, they projected a hardball match in the air above for us to watch. Two alumni adventuring teams competed out in some desert. I’d never seen anything like it!”

As she described the events of the match, Kole had to admit a little regret at missing out. Not on the speeches of course, but the hardball match had sounded exciting. He’d heard it was a popular activity amongst adventuring teams as a form of training and relatively safe source of income, but his parents had never been involved in the orc tradition turned sport.

They talked for a while longer, Kole telling her about his luck in the library, and Amara gushing about all the exciting projects Donglefore had in store for her—none of which sounded the slightest bit exciting to Kole.

It’s fine. I’m sure my library story was dull to her. He reflected.

They parted when Amara’s mentor left the gathering and ushered for her to follow. Kole told Amara he’d head back to the library, and they made plans to meet up once they’d gotten settled. She promised to have an updated version of the locater device the next time they met, one that could send a simple signal.

Before heading back to the library, Kole had a few errands to run.

* * *

A few hours later saw Kole back at the library a few silver poorer with an extra bag bulging with supplies. The same bored attendant from before let him through with a reminder to go by the office of student affairs to get his library card before tomorrow. Conveniently, no one seemed to notice the large bag Kole carried over his shoulder. While he was not a trained primal by any stretch of the imagination, there was one small primal ability he did have. The first ability any Illusion primal developed was the ability to make others ignore something. While normal primals learned the ability upon gaining access to their Font, Kole had struggled for years to figure it out. He hadn’t dedicated a lot of time to learning the skill, but he’d tried in an attempt to see if his knowledge of wizardry could aid him in using his Font, and vice versa. When he’d finally learned the most basic skill, he’d had to admit that the skills had no overlap.

The skill was very limited in its nascent state, and Kole had never had the intuition or instincts other primals did to improve it. Without that improvement, it wouldn’t work on anybody who knew of the ability’s existence, Illandrios being the home of the Primordial of Illusions, everyone knew of the ability, and so Kole never had the opportunity to use it.

Here, however, it could serve quite useful. Before entering the library he’d focused on his bag and drawn upon the power of his Font, Willing others to disregard the object. As he passed people, they would double-take, looking back at him, and then seeming confused before walking on. The skill didn’t make the bag invisible, but it made people not notice it. Each time someone’s focus was drawn to the bag, Kole would feel a drain on his Will. If he spotted the observer in time, he could focus on them, using his Will to make them see past the object of their focus.

He made it back to his corner of the library without challenge and dropped his bag. Unpacking, he set up a small bedroll he’d purchased, along with a change of clothes, some travel rations, and additional writing supplies. Next, he went back towards the center of the library in search of some furnishings. Each lit ring of the library had regular study areas spaced throughout. The furniture within ranged from large tables that could seat eight, to single study desks and upholstered armchairs. It didn’t take Kole long to find an empty area, and he found a small desk that he figured he could carry.

The desk was heavier than he expected, but no one bothered him as he moved it deeper into the library. As with sleeping in the library, he wasn’t sure that moving furniture was against the rules, but it seemed better to avoid the issue altogether.

Talking to Amara, he’d learned the secret to his self-shelfing books. The library of the Dahn had a powerful enchantment woven throughout it—well, it had a lot of powerful enchantments woven throughout it but specifically one that re-shelved books. Every night at midnight invisible servants combed the library, returning any unattended book to its shelf. Reassured that no one had found him in his sleep, he’d settled on his plan to move into the library.

It wasn’t his best idea, but it was far from his worst. His uncle had complained endlessly that he’d practically lived in the library back home, so when thinking of ways to save money, it seemed a natural solution.

After getting his secret corner of the library set up, he returned to his studies. He was hopeful that the oldest of the ten spells would be a large improvement on his current barely-castable Magic Missile, but repairing and learning the spell would take him weeks—assuming his class work didn’t take too much of his time and Will. He studied late into the night and fell asleep into a book, an unfortunately familiar occurrence.