I knew that I had been acting a bit childish while going about making friends with Amber. My ridiculous, over the top demeanor wasn't an accident. Grogtilda's body was brought back from death by Eunice's necromagic and was still extremely addicted to Folding Seed sap.

Every time I had to take a sip of the filtered sap to push away the awful ache in my muscles, it messed with the chemical balance of my youthful, teenage body, derailed some of my mental processes and made me act very silly. Drinking the sap was an unavoidable, unsolvable issue that I had to wrestle with as long as I inhabited Grogtilda's almost-undead body.

Thus, I had accepted my drunk state, relaxed and cracked jokes. I let Juneberry take over the metaphorical wheel while the rest of my triple-processor soul [Junezia & Juni] examined, contemplated and evaluated our potential enemy. From what Still-Walker sight clearly showed me - Amber's soul was incredibly weak, that of a teenager with no advanced magical training. She was no archmage. She had no Vows, no defenses, no specialization, no skills and was somewhere around level five at most, maybe four.

“She seems… mad,” Voltara whispered, intently staring at the distraught Amber.

“Yeah,” I replied glancing at the maid, “She’s mad alright. How fast can you move?”

“Very fast if I focus on it and burn through my Vitality,” Voltara replied.

“If she tries to attack us, utters even a single word that doesn’t make sense - rip that locket from her neck,” I whispered.

“Got it,” Voltara replied. Her muscles tensed up. Her pose changed, became that of a coiled spring ready to leap forward.

I gripped Endy, pouring more mana into my eyes.

Voltara and I tracked the redhead girl as she marched back into the room, holding onto her terrifying necklace.

“Amber, I’d like to…” I started to apologize, but the redhead rushed to her bed and slapped the curtain and noise-cancelling hexagrams. I heard her wail from within just for a second before the curtains closed around her bed and the magic shield formed around it muting all sound between us.

“Welp, that could have gone better,” I sighed.

“You can’t make friends with everyone,” Voltara commented.

“Yeah, I was hoping that she would at least join Emerald’s side,” I said. “She seems like someone who really needs a friend and we are absolutely not helping. I really don’t understand what her problem is with me.”

“She is a Baroness… maybe she simply dislikes lowborns?” The maid contemplated.

“No, that’s not it,” I shook my head. “There’s something else there… something far deeper, something I don’t yet understand. The pastry didn’t even sway her to a neutral stance. If anything she’s gotten more hostile.”

“Yeah,” Voltara nodded.

“Well, I guess this is acceptable for now,” I sighed.

Captain jumped between us, rubbing a black, furry face into my hand. I dispensed the pets, relaxing the tiniest bit. Miss Snippy stayed in her bed, shielded from us by the barrier of cloth and noise-cancelling magic.

I became concerned that she was using the silence to activate her locket to murder the heck out of me while I wasn’t ready. I nervously peered through the cloth with my Still-Walker sight.

Nope, she was crying.

“Well, that’s that,” I rubbed my face tiredly.

[We could just call the Keeper back. Order Nora to be nicer to Amber and get her points restored. Then we could explain our situation and appeal to her morality,] Juneberry commented.

[It's a solid idea, but I doubt that a mere appeal to morality will work. The snack scenario failed catastrophically,] I thought back to the Searcher. [There’s far too much we do not know about Amber and she’s not sharing any information. We have no idea which side Miss Snippy is on. For all we know, all of this is just a performance, a ruse. If that locket of hers is a sentient, powerful concept like Eureka, it could be guiding all of her actions.]

[You’re just going to let her cry then?]

[Yes,] I thought back. [I’m going to let her cry. She tried to get us kicked out of Nemendias simply because she doesn’t like Captain. I’m done trying to befriend her, I have other things on my plate. Amber isn’t an active threat - she’s a mystery we can put on the back burner. I think it is best to let the Marsh Baroness relax and accept her roommate situation.]

I walked out of the room and pulled out the compass, examining it again. There was a drawing of Nemmy’s face beneath the ghost-tracking arrow that was now pointed in a specific direction.

Nemmy’s arms were crossed. She was staring directly at me.

“Hold up,” I squinted at the compass. “You were posed differently just a few minutes ago… is this a depictomancy crystallography portrait?”

The portrait of Nemendias nodded. She pointed at the arrow, urging me to chase the ghost again.

“No,” I told her.

The painted avatar tilted her head at me with a frown.

“I’m not doing this mission of yours until you explain something to me,” I shook my head.

A spherical, sound-blocking, barrier-shield manifested itself around me.

“What do you need to know exactly?” The drawing of Nemendias asked from the compass.

“How does time travel work?” I asked.

“It doesn’t,” Nemendias answered.

“It doesn’t?” I blinked.

“There have been many wizards over millennia that attempted to bend time to their will,” Nemendias looked off to the side as she spoke with a sombre tone. “The most basic time travel is easily attainable - rewinding yourself with Vitality magic. It does not actually move one backwards into the past or forward into the future though.”

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“Right,” I nodded. “I understand how Vitality threads work. Tell me what you know about time travel.”

“Numerous archmages tried to make time travel hexagrams based on Vitality magic. It should have been easy. It was not. Time travel is the most likely reason why many Illatius archmages vanish without a trace. Those that kept detailed records of experiments with time-travel magic reported seeing an angel made from black steel manifesting in their tower, telling them just one phrase - ‘do not mess with time’. If they stubbornly proceed with their research and ignored this warning, they simply… stopped existing.”

“That’s pretty messed up,” I gulped.

The portrait of Nemendias nodded.

“So, this ghost of yours,” I said. “You said she’s been bugging you for six thousand years since you were built? She hasn’t changed at all?”

Nemmy nodded.

“If I really kill the girl with the pocket watch and if she’s a genuine time traveler, would it create some kind of a paradox in which you and I never come to an agreement? Would it break the universe?” I asked. “Would it summon this spooky angel and make me stop existing?”

“I have not considered this,” Nemendias mulled. “I simply wish to be rid of a pesky parasite that’s been meddling with me.”

“What does she do exactly?” I asked.

“She appears at random, attacks my wards, books or tools and vanishes before I can manifest stronger shields in that section ,” Nemmy sighed. “I repair the damage, but then she attacks me in another place. It takes time for me to focus defense wards strong enough to stop her attack.”

"You cannot hurt her?"

"No, I cannot. She is listed as a student."

"Listed where?"

"Her soul-signature is imprinted in my Astral-records."

“She's a student?” I asked. “How did she get in to begin with? When did she become a student?”

“I have no idea,” the Arcanarium’s avatar sighed.

“What? How is she in your records without a date or name? Is your memory not perfect?” I asked.

“No,” Nemendias said. “There are large segments missing from my Astral memories and numerous physical books were damaged by her. Like I said - this ghost has been a nuisance. I lost a lot of things because of her.”

“Has she ever attacked a student?”

“I don’t know,” Nemmy said.

“What if you ignore her?” I asked.

“I cannot ignore her! She is trying to kill me,” the drawing on the compass stated firmly. “I believe that she is searching for a weakness so that she can end me permanently. The missing gaps in my memory are moments when she succeeded at disrupting enough of my hexagrams for my sense of self to come apart… thankfully she was unable to discover and destroy my heart. I simply re-manifest after the damage is done.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“No,” Nemendias shook her head. “You and your two companions are the only people I have revealed myself to in six thousand years."

“If she doesn’t know that you’re sentient, what’s her end goal?”

“Her goal is the destruction of the ward of Nemendias and an installation of one of her own design,” the avatar replied. “My only solace is that she is magically weak. The wards she sets up are less powerful than me. I can simply tear them into shreds wherever she places them.”

“How weak is she?” I asked.

“She is somewhere around the level of Agatha Amadea,” Nemendias said. “A very talented sixth year student.”

“Do multiples of her appear at the same time?”

“No,” the drawing said. “She is always alone. I am operating under the assumption that she is a project of a long dead archmage that inserted her into this Arcanarium as a student six thousand years ago... before I had manifested as a distinctive personality.”

“Why does she not age?”

“I do not know.”

“Why does she not grow in magical power?”

“I do not know. The best guess I can make is that she is a golem with the soul of a student, a necromage construct that can teleport around with the power of her unique Inarian artifact. I cannot hurt her physically because of the student’s soul within the phylactery construct.”

“But there are delays between each of her jumps, correct?”

“Yes. Sometimes there are centuries between her appearances,” Nemendias nodded.

“Hrmm,” I rubbed my chin. “I don’t think it would be wise for me to attack this golem of yours.”

“Why not?”

“Because magically I am nowhere close to Agatha,” I confessed. “I’m actually a level seven weakling. My concept-killing knife can end anything, but it takes me time to destroy something with it. If this golem is as smart as you describe it, it could magically bind me to its will and make me dismantle you. Right now you’re at a stalemate. Bringing me into the equation without preparation might swing the pendulum towards the wrong side.”

“You called yourself an archmage in front of Prince Licor,” Nemendias raised an eyebrow.

“I call myself a lot of things,” I said. “My power isn’t simply killing things. I’m also an Intelligence operator. I specialize in understanding things.”

“Uh-huh,” Nemmy tilted her head. “What do you suggest we do, Miss Intelligence?”

“I need to understand your immortal pocket-watch ghost,” I said. “Once I understand her sufficiently, I can attack her in a roundabout way without exposing myself to her. I won't do it alone either - you will assist me.”

“How?” Nemendias asked.

“How small can you make those gates of yours?” I asked.

“About the size of a pea,” Nemendias replied.

“And how quickly can they be made?”

“Smaller ones can be formed quicker, but what purpose would a smaller gate serve?" Nemendias asked.

"Oh you'll see," I said. "But first, I believe it's time I gave you a job."

"A job?" Nemendias tilted her head.

"It's about time you started working full-time round here," I declared with a grin. "You've been slacking off for six thousand years!"

. . .

The Keeper of Keys, Nora Frid Antienni, was sitting in her office and tiredly rubbing her face with her hand. She looked distraught. It had been her job to keep law and order in Nemendias, but I was an enormous headache for her, a massive disruptor of the said order.

“Khrm, khrm,” I cleared my throat.

“Wha…” Nora lifted her hazel eyes up. Her face fell when she saw me standing in front of her with Agatha and Emerald at my side.

“Greetings Nora,” I said sweetly. “Did you miss me?”

“H-how did you get in here?” Nora stared at the locked door behind us.

“I’m an archmage,” I smirked. “I can teleport wherever I want to.”

“But the Arcanarium’s w-wards…” She stuttered. “Not even the teachers can…”

“I own Nemendias,” I replied with a casual tone. “The wards answer to me.”

“I… see,” the Keeper uttered. “How may I be of assistance, my Lady?”

“Well,” I yawned. “I’ve been reviewing your overall performance and I’m afraid that I’m going to have to fire you.”

“What?!” Nora gasped.

“You’re just not cutting it as the Keeper of Keys,” I said.

“But… but… how can I possibly assist you per orders of Baroness Amadea if I’m fired?” The Keeper stood up.

“You aren’t going far, don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll be working as a salesgirl in my shop in Diamondias. Diamondias is owned by Nemendias so you'll still be under my wings and helping me out... just not in this lovely office."

“But… you can’t just… fire me, the Dean, teachers and students will…”

“They won’t even notice a thing,” I smirked at the fretting woman. “I’ll be posing as you from this point onward.”

“But…” Nora’s hands were shaking. “There can’t be two of me.”

“Indeed. Your new name will be… Enirii Frishreich, a girl from Lomb township.” I said. “You will wear a wig and magitek glasses made by my artificer that will change the color of your eyes. I’ll let you pick whichever colors you prefer for your new look.”

“A-alright,” Nora mumbled. “Are you certain that you can do my job here, pretend to be me well enough to convince everyone that…”

“You will teach me everything,” I said. “But I will have to erase your memories from this point forward… got it?”

Nora nodded.

“Repeat after me,” I said. “I, Nora Frid Antienni, the Keeper of Keys of Nemendias hereby surrender my job to...."

Nora repeated the words with a confused look.

I grabbed the Keeper by the shoulders and turned her around. Another Nora was standing there.

"...to Nemendias granting her the use of my voice, image and all of my rights and privileges as the Keeper of Nemendias," I finished.

Nora repeated my words, her eyes wide as she stared at her perfect duplicate.

“What?” She asked. “What is happening? Why am I giving my job to…”

She turned her head to discover that Agatha’s armacus was pointed at her. The mind-erasing and knockout spell struck the Keeper's temple and she fell into the arms of the second Nora.

“Congratulations on the promotion, you’re now your own Keeper of Keys,” I winked at Nemmy.

The Avatar of Nemendias shaped like Nora stared at me for a moment and then her mouth spread open in a wide, happy smile.