It was odd to feel… small in a building no doubt made for humans. The archways in the entrances hung at least three stories high, and the banisters of the polished-stone staircases were measured in inches, rather than centimetres. Everything made sense in some way the moment she entered the Library of Reynor.

The antechamber needed to match the grandiosity of the real thing—it had to give its visitors a mere hint as to what awaited them inside. A brass and burgundy carpet rolled down the middle of the entire hall, marking the library’s primary loitering area. From there, bookcases made of the deepest maroon wood filed out in endless, organized rows, sorted into categories by holographic signs above. Fiction, literature, non-magical—genres of every kind hovered throughout the first floor, the transparent blue almost painful in a room tinted red by the candle-lit chandeliers overhead.

As their large group of eight wandered in, Val's neck craned upwards to mark the upper… floors? While the majority of books sat on the ground level, multiple stories of bookcases marked the walls overhead, with standing balconies protruding outwards. There remained at least five tiers of these standing areas, wrapping around the interior in a ring of architecture, as crimson pillars rose from the ground to steady them.

“Woah…” Anderson breathed, now permanently glued to Otis’ shoulder, transfixed by the massive power orb thrumming in the center of the main lane. Rings of power expanded with each pulse, contracting with each breath, seemingly powering this monstrosity of a building. As if it were nothing to note, people flitted about and readers tucked into spaces carved out on the far edges. Even so, Val spotted no attendants.

“Look here,” a soft voice called out. Val heeded Kylee’s words, moving her attention to one of the bookcases. On its side, an enchanter curved out the most weird-looking runes Val’s seen to date, and an IBR-based sign flickered above it.

Need Help? Press Here.

With a shrug, Val placed a palm and bided her time. All the possibilities waiting for her in these pages astounded her. Not only were there the best catalogues of spells, there was also the wellspring of knowledge on everything about alchemy, reagents, and ingredients.

She could make real headway on Life’s Hymn, perhaps the greatest yet since she’d come to know about its existence. Every fibre screamed at her to run off to the nearest alchemy-based section. Restraint cooled that urge with ease. She’d managed without the information this far, not like it’ll grow legs and fly away—

A yelp escaped Val as an eruption of red and blue feathers emerged out of the bookcase. Wind blasted her face and flapping wings bombarded her ears before a tropical bird landed on her shoulders and cocked its head. “Well, whaddiya need?”

Val blinked at the creature, locking gazes with dark orbs full of twinkling intelligence. “...the hell?”

It fluttered its wings. “I know I’m amazing, but I don’t got all day.”

Everyone burst out into laughter at her helpless expression. She inspected the now-dull rune, then glanced sidelong to find Kylee smirking. Sly, aren’t you? “I need help with finding—” she paused, keeping the two words to herself. Close call. “Finding any books that’ll help me become a better Striker.”

That wasn’t a lie. Her ultimate request was one for private ears, however. The bird cocked its head in thought, taking flight a second later. “General invocation spells are up this way. Offense-focused.”

“Great,” Val called after it, memorizing the bird’s colours. Many of his kind fluttered about, taking their attendant-based duties to heart. She couldn’t decide if they were summons or familiars of an enigmatic mastermind behind the scenes. That mattered little as they entered a sliver of an aisle; heavy textbooks were packed into the bookcases on either side.

The feathered attendant latched onto one with its talons, and Val swore she could see the strain on its features as it flew over and dropped it into her open, cupped hands. Everyone leaned in to take a look at the words lining the pages. Yup, Val confirmed privately, skimming over the spell info. Keeping Life’s Hymn a secret would be a nightmare with these guys around.

“Oh, that one’s not bad,” Jesal said, pointing to a particular spell. Val put her thoughts on the back burner and honed onto the spellsheet-like data on Chained Lances.

{Invocation} [General] Tier 1: Chained Lances

Type: Combative — Offensively-skewed, Utility

→ Launch an elemental lance at a directed target. The attached chains can be used to further impair the target once struck. This spell works best with concrete elements. Material used must be marked (that is, in some way, bound to the user).

Core Hex Criterion

Offence:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Defence:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Agility:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Malleability:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Health:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Special Effects:

❙❙❙❙❙❙

Minor Hex Criterion

Radius: Dependant on the mage.

Incantion Tempo: Dependant on the mage.

Energy Required: 25 AS (per lance)

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“This spell sucks ass,” Caro said after a mere moment. “It has way too many downsides. So much so that it trumps its offensive power completely. The fact that I have to carry these lances is definitely number one, not to talk about the energy required.”

“But the chains will—” Jesal began.

“You have to think like a Striker when buying spells for a Striker,” she cut him off. “We’ll leave chaining things down for Anchors like you, yeah?”

“I don’t know, I kinda want to check out the conjuration version,” Val mumbled. “Might come in handy.”

“I can lead you over, if necessary,” the attendant squawked, its high-pitched voice toeing the line between squeaky and grating. “Should it be to your satisfaction, I can also process it for you to keep. On borrowed time, of course.”

“I would love that.” Val waved to her company. “No need to tag along. I’d be better off doing this myself.”

Caro’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute—” Val gave her a slight shake of the head. “—or never mind. Holler if you need us.”

“I will.” She hoped her eyes portrayed the gratitude she held for Caro to go along with it, no questions asked. Restraint be damned, she couldn’t wait any longer when the information she sought could be within reach.

Backing away, she could’ve sworn Kenneth shot her the slightest of nods. Val never let on about what pushed her to take on the Tripartite Trial all the months ago, yet she held an inkling that he knew—or understood, at the very least. Many tend to underestimate what kids notice, and she would think herself no different.

Though what she might—or might not—find in the walls could very well change the trajectory of the Efron family, she kept her hopes low. The depth of this library’s catalogue should provide some information, but there was no telling how helpful it’d be. It could be nothing.

It could be everything.

I need to find out, Val thought, so she could cross it out and move on to the next thing. Exiting out the hall, she peered at the red-blue creature trailing her in the air. “So, friend.” A smile stretched wide across her face. “How many books can I check out?”

----------------------------------------

First Halo of Ciazel,

Reynor City,

Solace of the Soul

-Two hours later-

Ignoring the strain of the nine back-breaking books hanging off her shoulders in her bag, she pushed open the wooden door of the small cafe. A doorbell chimed overhead, and the nearby tables glanced at her in passing before returning to their business. That act alone meant the world to Val.

No curious inspections at a low ASC, no sneers at the borderline-typic—nothing at all. She was as extraordinarily ordinary as the person next over, and the fact hardly settled in back in Atera. People there witnessed her journey, from the beginning to now. These folks glimpsed solely the results and, safe to say, determined her normal.

What she would give to tell her old self just a year ago…

“Be right with you!” a voice called from somewhere out in the dark. At best, the surrounding five meters were visible thanks to the “spirits”. Everything else was simply the sounds of clinking dishes and the scent of cinnamon-spiced latte in complete, utter darkness. Val caught sight of a cluster of orbs here and there, and the scurrying of a purplish feline.

It zipped over to her legs to plop right in front of her, and she crouched to give its head a little rub. “Hey buddy,” she said under her breath. “Glad you’re here to give me company.”

“Hi! Sorry for the delay.” Val looked up to find a young Kidraan man towering over her. “You need a table for…?”

“One,” she filled in, rising to her full height, cat in arms.

“Does two work? That’s our smallest option.”

“Yup.”

“Right this way.”

Before she knew it—and without any stumbles in the dark—Val was seated at a spacious table, hidden away in the corner. Perfect. “Could I get whatever drink is smelling so good?”

“I know just the thing,” the waiter responded, disappearing into the shadows. In the meantime, Val swiped up on the table for extra light, and proceeded to dump the nine tome-heavy books onto one side of the glass table. One half for complete, one half for unread. Once the IBR-based cat snuggled closer for a nap on her lap, and her drink arrived a few minutes after, Val dug in deep and got to work.

…

In a matter of hours that Val couldn’t bother counting, a stack of eight books lay on the table. One remained cracked open at a page she’d lingered on for breath after breath. She sat frozen, her eyes unable to leave the last few lines on the bottom of the paper. It had taken visiting the largest library in the country to find more information, and it was far from desirable. The other eight books retained bits and pieces she refused to believe. The ninth laid it out in plain, undeniable words.

No place in the Upper Lip of Toreth had a high enough energy level for aether fruit to grow.

Aether fruit required aether to thrive—she acquired that much in her first weeks in the First Halo, courtesy of Caro’s shenanigans. The question remained: how much? Nowhere on her half of the continent met the standard necessary for aether fruit production. Meaning, the only place you could find it was in the Lower Lip.

The continent was split into two halves—two lips—as it was bisected by the Divide, a place of myths and legends. According to history class, it was a strip of land filled with the gnarliest of aether creatures and environments. No one who went there came back, and those who did were far in between, tellers of morbid tales. You’d have to be a minimum of a high-ranked Magus, and even that was risking it. If she wasn’t suicidal, Magister was the rank to be if she thought of travelling there. As such, the continent diverged into two separate regions with different cultures and, clearly, different aether levels.

Outside the walls.

Val buried her head in her arms. Mom’s cure is outside the walls. Outside the damn Upper Lip. Past the Divide. It couldn’t get any worse than that. No wonder Doc hid this information. His words always reverberated in her mind, sometimes softly when she glimpsed hope, often loudly during times of doubt. At this specific moment, she could almost see him sitting on the other side, repeating his exact words.

It’s a wild drake chase that’ll have you journey across the whole continent to end up with what? With nothing.

“The whole continent indeed, Doc,” she muttered. He had told her from the start.

No sane person would willingly attempt the journey, regardless of what she’d pay them; if, by the mercy of the saints, they managed to grab the thing, they’d keep it to themselves and reap its many benefits. It was up to her to cross the Divide, and that possibility didn’t look… well—possible. Reaching the Magus rank took a decade for geniuses, and Val wasn’t too sure she’d be up to speed.

That left all her eggs in the Jin Clan’s auction, yet who was to say they had it either? Lowell ensured her the Major Clan used the decade between each grand auction to curate the best items. Did that include what the Lower Lip had to offer? At that point, why go that far?

Every scenario pushed toward one end: she had to become stronger, and quickly. I can only grow so fast as a silver though…

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there. It’s occupied.”

Val started, blinking rapidly with her head down. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the commotion outside until it was right at the border of what she could and couldn’t see. The Kidraan waiter sounded distressed, his voice a harsh, cracking whisper.

“Do you see any other open seats?” a woman responded, her enunciation smooth.

“In fact, I do. There are plenty—”

“Perhaps I phrased my question incorrectly. Do you see any seats at this table?”

“Yes, however, it’s booked for one regardless."

“Too bad I hardly care.”

Val wagered a peak through her elbows at the form striding into the booth and almost chuckled at the absurdity of it all. It was none other than an Archon sitting opposite her, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach her dark eyes. Val managed one thought before the depth of the Archon's power wiped away any sense of reality.

Can't believe you were right, Lowe.