When Afi woke the next morning, he found Sylvia still sleeping peacefully beside him. It was a small bed, but she insisted that he share it with her. He feared that she was pushing herself, but she had fallen asleep quickly at least. Now she lay curled together, palms and forehead resting against his skin. He made sure to lie perfectly still. Her slow breathing soothed his weary soul. Whatever she was dreaming, it was warm and gentle. The soft morning light slowly stretched across the floor. When it reached Sylvia’s face, her eyes opened.

Stretching, Sylvia pushed a hand against Afi’s body. She looked back at him and smiled. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Liege”, he responded.

Rolling out of bed, Sylvia got to her feet and tiptoed to the window. Standing there in only tunic, she peered through the curtains.

“Anything interesting out there?”, Afi teased.

“Plenty, but…”, Sylvia began. She hesitated and looked over her shoulder. “I was eager to come here, but just what are we supposed to do now that we are here?”

“You are Fri. What do you want to do?”, Afi returned the question

Sylvia looked down at the road again, at all the people walking by. They looked so elegant, well dressed and fed, but also stressed, hurrying by like they were all eternally late to something. It really was a very strange place.

“How about we go to the bathhouse?”

“That sounds like a good start”, Afi agreed. He sat up and pulled his trousers on before letting the blanket fall away entirely.

Once they were dressed and ready, they headed downstairs and found Even working behind the bar, along with a second man. Even’s hair was tried up in a neat ponytail while he worked, serving beers and bowls of porridge to a handful of customers. The other man leaned onto the bar and yawned. Spotting the new arrivals, he nodded in greeting. “Sylvia, I presume?”

Sylvia nodded. “That is right.”

“Have a seat. Eat”, the man encouraged.

Sylvia and Afi exchanged a look, shrugged, and settled down at a nearby table.

The man came to them a minute later, navigating around the many chairs while balancing two plates. “I am Kjell”, he introduced himself.

“Kjell”, Sylvia repeated.

She noticed he wore a golden ring, much like Even’s and Ritva’s. He wore no other jewellery, though, and his clothes were rather plain, more like Frida’s. His hair was as long as Even’s, but he did not bother tying it up. His beard was also sort of messy, at least compared to his colleague. He seemed less preoccupied, both with his looks and with the customers. The broad gold band seemed completely out of place on his finger.

Setting the plates down on the table, he jested, “A plate for our newcomer and a bowl for her pet.”

Sylvia repressed a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Anything for Fri”, Kjell responded flatly. “Want a beer with that?”

Sylvia shook her head. “Water would be good.”

“Right away.”

When Kjell had turned his back, Sylvia looked up at Afi. He did not appear to be bothered by the interaction. His eyes were focused on the food in front of him. He picked up the fork and frowned before pulling it through the beans, scooping up a few. Carefully balancing them, he brought the fork to his mouth.

“It is easier if you just stab them”, Sylvia offered, making a jabbing motion in the air.

“I fail to see the point of these”, Afi grumbled, holding the cutlery up. “Who stabs food? If you want to hold something, then just hold it. If you want to scoop something, then use a spoon. It is a useless utensil.”

“You really do not have forks in the north? I always thought that was just a rumour”, Sylvia chuckled.

A blush spread over Afi’s face. “We do have them, but it is not common.”

Sylvia reached across the table and placed a hand on his. “I am sorry. I did not mean to embarrass you. I was just surprised.”

“It is not that. Just bad memories”, Afi admitted quietly.

Kjell returned with two glasses of water and shot Afi an amused smirk. “Having trouble?”

“May I please have a spoon? I do not see the point of these”, Sylvia said, holding up her fork demonstratively.

Surprised, Kjell nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

“Make that two spoons”, Sylvia instructed.

Kjell shrugged and fetched the cutlery for them. “Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

When Kjell had left, Sylvia handed one of the spoons to Afi. Grateful, he took it. Scooping up more beans, he ate comfortably. Sylvia watched him for a moment, observing how he pushed food onto his spoon with the knife. She imitated him, pointedly leaving her fork unused. It did not go past her that Even and Kjell exchanged an amused glance.

After clearing their plates, Sylvia and Afi headed out. The bathhouse was easy enough to find. It stood out among the overall architecture of the city. The entire construction was made out of huge chunks of cut grey stone, and it was only one level high. The roof was nearly flat, and laid out with moss. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, they were met with a huff of warm air. The interior was dark and damp, but beautiful. Oil lamps hung from swirling metal hooks and offered a steady bright light. The walls, ceiling, and floors, were all sanded smooth. Unfamiliar patters had been carved into a row of stones at eye-level.

The first room was small, an entrance hall of sorts. It housed but a broad bench and a small bell, suspended from the ceiling. When the door fell shut behind them, it did so in near perfect silence. Enclosed by thick stone and heavy wood, the space suddenly became deathly quiet. A large door presented itself as the only path forward. Sylvia figured it would be rude to barge in. She rang the bell and took a seat on the bench. Afi stood at her side, his eyes darting around the claustrophobic room.

Within the minute, a young man came running. He slipped in through the door and bowed low. “Honoured Fri, how can I help you today?”

“We were told we could bathe here”, Sylvia said.

The man nodded repeatedly. “Certainly. You are Fri, right?”

“Yes. I am Sylvia Fri.”

“Sylvia. Please, follow me”, the man offered, holding the door open for them.

Sylvia and Afi followed him further into the building. The bathhouse was dominated by one large room. The ceiling was supported by many thick pillars arranged around a pool of clear water. The sound of running water alerted them to a funnel ruining along the floor, which was filling the pool up further. Along every wall, there were wooden seats, racks with towels, and baskets for clothes. Several braziers heated the space. Their soft light reflected in the water and cascaded over the ceiling in a rhythmic dance.

“You are welcome at any hour, but this basin is only available in the evenings”, the young man explained.

Several smaller doors led out of this room in every direction. Leading them through one of these, the man showed them a smaller room with a raised basin. It was a curious design, all stone and perfectly rectangular. It was about two metres broad, and equally wide. Below it, a fire place lay dormant.

“Eshein design?”, Afi wondered aloud.

“Yes, that is correct”, the young man nodded. “If you wish to bathe hot, you have to make a fire yourself, but there are plenty of woodchips here”, the man said. He pointed out the ample pile in a nearby box. Flint and steel lay ready on a tray right beside it. Stepping up onto the platform of the basin, he reached for a sheet of wood and tugged it to the side, revealing a stone funnel. Water began pouring into the basin. “Just close this gate again when the basin is filled. The drainage is on the opposite side.”

Sylvia nodded. “Thank you for the information.”

“Please enjoy, and leave any used towels in the basket by the entrance”, the young man said, before bowling low and exiting the room.

“Now this is a strange place”, Afi said.

“I have never seen anything like this”, Sylvia agreed. “How did you know this is from Eshein?”

“Just the raised basin. I have heard about them”, Afi shrugged.

Sylvia walked over to the funnel with running water and craned her neck to see where it came from. She could only see that the water fell from above within the wall. “Fascinating”, she mumbled.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“That explains the moss roof”, Afi commented.

“Does it?”

“I suppose the water comes down from the roof. Moss is a good filter”, Afi nodded.

Sylvia eyed the water. It was very clear. “How come?”, she wondered.

Afi shrugged. “It just is.”

Shrugging as well, Sylvia picked up the small shovel and threw some woodchips into the fireplace. Striking the flint, she lit it up. It took a while to fill the broad basin with water, and longer still for it to heat, but once the water was steaming, Sylvia took her clothes off and sunk into the bath with a pleased groan. “Worth it”, she determined.

Afi huffed a laugh.

“Come on”, Sylvia encouraged.

Afi tensed. “I can wait.”

“Why would you wait? This basin is huge. We could fit five of us in here with ease.”

“I, er, okay”, Afi agreed. He pulled his tunic off and set it aside in the provided basket. Reaching for his trousers next, he paused. “Would you mind closing your eyes?”

Surprised, Sylvia nodded and closed her eyes. Afi hastily undressed and folded his clothes up. Taking a small towel, he draped it around his waist before sinking into the water at the other end of the basin.

“Can I look now?”, Sylvia asked when the water settled again.

Making sure the towel covered his genitals entirely, Afi nodded, “Yea.”

Opening her eyes, Sylvia realised that Afi had covered up. “So that part is true then.”

“What part?”

“That northerners hide from each other”, Sylvia said. Her amusement was evident in her voice.

“It is not really hiding, is it?”, Afi protested. “Just some modesty.”

Draping an arm over the edge of the basin, Sylvia laughed. “Is it modest to think your body is so interesting that you have to hide it?”

“You hid from me”, Afi retorted.

“Because I thought you would…”, Sylvia said, but she did not bother finishing the sentence. “That is different”, she said instead.

“Yea, I suppose it is”, Afi agreed. He relaxed a little. He leaned back against the warm stones. “This is nice”, he finally said.

Sylvia hummed in agreement.

Squeaky clean and refreshed, Sylvia and Afi returned to the inn.

Even nodded at them when they entered, and then called for Yri. In the other end of the hall, Yri looked up. She got to her feet, swung back what was left in her mug, and strode over to them.

“Good morning. I hope your rooms are to your liking, Honoured Fri”, she jested.

Sylvia pushed her chin out and strained her voice into a high pitch. “Excellent. Great service as well. Truly remarkable. Worthy of a Fri.”

Yri laughed heartedly and draped an arm over her shoulders. “Good to see that you have settled in.”

“The bathhouse was truly something”, Sylvia said sincerely.

Yri’s grin became broader. “Right? I had it built in the image of bathhouses in Eshein.”

“You have been to Eshein?”, Sylvia asked astounded.

“Once”, Yri nodded. “Beautiful country. Shimmering with crystal.” Letting go of Sylvia, she added, “That is not why I am here, though. I came to give you guidance. Come with me.”

Following Yri out of the Harbour Inn, they walked down the central road, all the way back to the army stables. Yri entered a slender wooden house which had been squeezed into an alley by the square. Reading the sign, Sylvia’s face lit up. Entering the library, she feasted her eyes on the scenery. Beyond the front desk, shelves upon shelves were stuffed with books. More still lay in heaps on the floor. Sylvia only barely resisted the urge to jump up and down in joy.

Resting an arm on the counter, Yri shouted, “Dana!”

There was a shuffle somewhere in the back and a slender white man emerged from between the bookshelves. He squinted at them and then smiled. “Yri, what an honour. How can I help you?”

Yri took a hold of Sylvia’s shoulder, urging her forward. “There is someone I would like to introduce to you. This is Sylvia Fri. She is a scribe from Nyberg, by Surtearv.”

Rounding the counter, the man bowed his head. “Sylvia. It is a pleasure. I am Dana Balders.”

“Dana”, Sylvia repeated.

She eyed Dana from head to toe. He was not very old, but his hair was all grey already. He was dressed in simple but richly coloured garments, fitting for a scholar with a lucrative business.

“I take it you are the local scribe?”, she asked.

“I am afraid so”, Dana jested. “You both read and write, then?”, he returned the question.

“Yes. My father taught me”, Sylvia nodded.

“I could use a hand around the library. Not many can write. A few of my students read, but…” Dana made a vague hand gesture. “I am afraid I am not a very good teacher for beginners. I used to instruct students at a higher level.”

“What kind of work would this be?”, Sylvia asked, already beaming at the offer.

“People come here mostly to have letters read, or for information, but also for letter writing, and to make changes in the ledgers. The rest of the time, you are free to peruse the library. What do you say? Will you work with me?”

Sylvia nodded. “I would be honoured! I did help in a small library at the temple in Nyberg.”

“A temple at Nyberg? Why, that is curious”, Dana chuckled. “If you have worked in a library before, I will assume you know the basics, how to sort books, read letters and write them, to properly seal them, and how to preserve a scroll, these sorts of things?”

“Yes”, Sylvia confirmed. “I have never seen a library with several rooms, though”, she added, eyeing the shelves winding their way through a door and into the back.

“Would you like a tour?”, Dana offered.

“Please. Yes!”

Making a sweeping gesture, Dana invited, “After you, Fri”, and led her into the back.

Afi made to follow his liege, but Yri grabbed his wrist. “Outside.”

Apprehensive, Afi followed Yri into the street. Whatever she wanted with him, he doubted it was good-natured. While she had conceded that he was evidently loyal to Sylvia, she had made it abundantly clear that she did not trust nor like him.

Yri turned to Afi with hard eyes. “You keep her safe, you hear me?”

“Always. I will do whatever it takes”, Afi responded at once.

Yri’s lips curved into a dangerous smirk. “Indeed? Then you will not mind practising with the other sworn in the evenings. Just be careful. No one is going to go easy on a Wolf. If you do not watch out, someone might just slip and skewer you during training.”

“Good. Then I will not loose my edge. I thank you for including me in the practice”, Afi said. He bowed his head lightly for emphasis.

“Bold claims from a little rat”, Yri said. She lay a hand on the haft of her axe and pinned him with a withering glare. “I do not trust you as far as I could throw you. I will keep an eye on you.”

“I have noticed. May I ask why, besides the obvious?”

“I know that you are a liar”, Yri stated.

Afi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Sylvia fainted after seeing something horrible? Do you expect me to believe that?”, Yri scoffed.

“Why would it be so hard to believe that?”, Afi asked in bewilderment.

Yri took a step toward him. Afi tensed but held his ground. The bright honey eyes glared at him with fiery intensity. His soul wavered. Still, he did not back up.

“I have seen Sylvia gut a man like a pig and sleep peacefully after. She is not squeamish”, Yri stated.

Afi’s frown deepened. He had no idea what to say to that.

Yri pressed a finger into his chest. “I warn you once. You hurt her, in any way, or disobey her even once, and I will exterminate you, you filthy pest.” With that, she turned on her heel and stomped away.

Afi inhaled deeply. Rubbing over his chest, he tried to chase away the feeling of Yri’s finger, and worse, of her stare. Shaking his head, he headed back inside. Walking around the counter, he found Sylvia among the labyrinth of books. Dana was motioning in the air between them, making elaborate gestures.

“…I say, I do have a couple of books on the subject, yes. If you wish, you could give them a read. I am fascinated by the idea, I do admit. Who even knows what is possible?”

Sylvia was smiling over both ears. “I would love to. It is fascinating! I actually have a book on magic myself, if you want to have a look”, she offered.

“I would love to!”, Dana exclaimed. Clapping his hands together, he shifted from foot to foot. “I have a feeling we will get along splendidly!”

Noticing that Afi had joined them, he stopped himself and bowed his head lightly. “I believe we have not been introduced. I am Dana Balders.”

“Dana. I am Afi Sylvias”, Afi responded politely.

“Oh, another sworn!”, Dana smiled. “I take it we will see a lot more of each other then. Your liege just took my offer to work here. Can you read?”

“No.”

“I will teach you”, Sylvia said.

Afi perked up at that. “Really?”

“Just where were you?”, Sylvia asked.

“Yri wanted a word.”

Sylvia sighed. “I see.”

Dana looked between the two of them, but elected not to ask. “Shall I show you the workspace?”, he asked instead.

“Please”, Sylvia nodded.

At the back of the library, three writing desks stood. One was nice and clean, but an inkwell and a feather pen atop it. The other two were covered in stacks of books and papers.

“You might have to clean up a little before you can do any work”, Dana said. He cleared his throat. “See it as your first task.”

“Not a problem”, Sylvia smiled. “I quite like rummaging around among books.”

“You will have a lot of fun, then. This place could really do with some straightening up”, Dana teased.

“How much are you intending to pay Sylvia?”, Afi inquired.

Sylvia gave him a meaning look, but Dana nodded and pulled a purse from his trousers. “Let me see…does two copper a day seem fair? If you do good work, I will pay five.”

Sylvia's eyes went wide. “Yes. That will…that is generous. Thank you.”

Counting out two copper coins in halves, Dana handed them over. “For today. Start by cleaning a workplace for yourself. Then, I would love to see that book of yours.”

Pocketing the money, Sylvia nodded and turned to the piles of books. Pushing up her sleeves, she instructed, “Afi. Help me carry.”

It took all afternoon, but by the end, they had freed not just one, but both of the tables. They even found an extra chair behind a stack of history ledgers for Afi to lounge in.

After fetching The Basis of Magic from the inn, Sylvia sat down with Dana. She followed along when he read the slender book, reliving the boredom that oozed from the pages once more. Reaching the last page, Dana closed the book and put his glasses aside. He leaned back in his chair and hummed.

“What do you think?”, Sylvia asked.

“It is a rather academic take on the subject. Most unusual”, Dana commented.

“What do you think they mean by magical affinity?”, Sylvia prodded. “It says something about acquired affinity, like you can become a mage.”

“Yes. That is curious. Most material speaks of mages as being born, not taught or acquired. I am afraid I cannot say much after one quick reading, but it is definitely a unique idea.” Dana eyed the book for a long moment. “It is a curious text”, he mumbled.

“Kind of boring, is it not?”, Sylvia asked.

Dana raised an eyebrow at that. “Boring?”, he questioned. “The opposite, I dare say. It is fascinating!”

“You do not think it is kinda…” Sylvia motioned at the book vaguely. “Dead?”

Dana blinked at her. “Dead?”, he repeated.

Feeling silly, Sylvia shrugged. “Maybe I have just stared at it for too long.”

“Maybe.” Dana eyed her for a moment before humming again. “Are you trying to figure this out in order to become a mage?”

Taken aback, it took Sylvia a moment to find an answer. “Not specifically. I would like to know how it works. But I guess…I will not deny that it is tempting.”

“Tread carefully, then. From what I have read, the process is gruelling. Most texts, which are not solely fable, speak of magic with apprehension. They speak of an incredible strain on the soul. There are mentions of students shattering.”

Sylvia swallowed hard. “I see.”

Afi straightened his back when Sylvia’s worry clawed at his sleeves.

Pushing himself out of his chair, Dana stretched. “Either way, we will not get further with our research today. We had better rest and start this investigation with fresh minds tomorrow.”

“Agreed.”

Dana reached into his pocket and pulled out his keyring. Loosening one key from the bundle, he handed it to Sylvia. “You work here now, so you should have a key.”

“You mean I can come here on my own?”, Sylvia asked. Excitement shone in her eyes.

“Naturally”, Dana nodded. Stretching his fingers, he cracked his knuckles, and sighed. “Come and go whenever you wish. Just make sure you lock up. I will be retreating for the night. See you tomorrow. Sylvia.” Turning to Afi, he smiled. “Afi.”

Afi nodded. “Dana.”

Dana opened a door in the back and waved a hand. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight”, Sylvia smiled. “And thank you again.”

“No. Thank you”, Dana smiled back. He closed the door and retreated up a set of stairs.

Turning to Afi, Sylvia held the key up and grinned.

“Congratulations”, Afi offered.

“I guess you will be working here as a guard, then”, Sylvia jested.

“Beats cleaning the streets.”

“I think I could be happy here”, Sylvia smiled.

Afi smiled back at her. “To a new beginning, then.”