Zici looked through the glass floor and at the rolling streams below her feet. Silvery bubbles distinguished themselves from the vapours, playfully churning, before they gave way to the melodious sound of water hitting ornamental crystals.

Crystal bridges interwove throughout the fourth floor, swaying with the gentle blows of refreshing winds. Around it were floating tomes, whose appearances remained unchanged.

Her eyes sparkled whenever she delicately grabbed a tome, felt its rough cover, and read a few of its shifting lines. Their essence eluded her, yet she benefited much.

Against her animated heart, she returned the book. Her guests stood in pair, the dutiful maid beside her elegant mistress. Subtle majesty emanated from their glowing complexions, which their magical surroundings highlighted.

She shyly returned to their sides, where she hoped she belonged. Iris looked at her, donning a faint smile.

“Please forgive me,” Zici said. “I got distracted, again.”

“You look cuter when your eyes brighten.” Iris chuckled. “There’s no need to rush. Our first time should be used to enjoy the moment.”

“I can’t enjoy it alone.”

“We’re enjoying your company.”

Antina leaned close to her mistress, who pulled her even closer. “You may tour the floor as you wish. We’ve been enjoying this view.”

Zici perked up but then faltered. Her heart squeezed tight when she realised the expression Iris gave to her maid. A gaze that caressed the maid’s neat yet gorgeous uniform. An intimacy that never strayed from each other.

The tomes no longer appealed to her. Another thought took its place, but she brushed it off.

She ambled away from her desire. She picked a new book. Yet she couldn’t get rid of that foggy imagination, of Iris and her maid, isolated from the outside world, whispering words inconceivable.

Crisp footsteps startled her. She lost grip of the tome, fumbling forwards. Once she steadied her footing, she turned around to see the mysterious maid.

That pair of nightly eyes discomforted but also eased her.

“Is there something Lady Iris wishes?”

“There might be,” Antina said. “But it’s out of our capability.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Mistress would’ve told you if she wished for your services.”

“As her guide, I must fulfil her need.” Zici looked into Antina’s eyes, resisting the urge to retreat. “She shouldn’t have to order me for every little thing.”

“I can why she adores you.”

Antina closed in on Zici, who lost the chance to step away. Her legs rooted her on the spot, and she could faintly smell a cool perfume enveloping her senses.

It stroked her heart.

“Is . . . something the matter?”

Antina gently held Zici’s hands. “It’s cruel to suffocate your own heart. Before you know it, the chance will slip away.”

“Impossible. I would never.”

“Those words aren’t meant for me.”

“What . . . are you trying to do?” Zici peeped around. Lady Iris was nowhere. “Aren’t you her important?”

“Her heart is a palace, too big for one love to fill.” Antina leaned closer and blew a wisp of her warm, ticklish air. “Love is not a game of conquerors, but nurturers.”

“Love is never a game.”

“Then don’t treat it like logic puzzles.”

Zici stopped herself from arguing with Antina, who gave her an anticipant expression. She slipped out of Antina’s gentle caress and returned to Lady Iris. Her legs slowed, her heavy heart weighing down.

The churning water distracted her with annoying noises. Their bubbles rose to the bridge floor and burst as empty dreams. She tried her best not to pay them anything attention.

A figure of utmost elegance watched a glowing sphere hovering at the centre of a whirlpool. Leaning on the glass rail, Iris fixated on the jewel of everchanging colours, of everchanging complexity. She tapped her fingers and hummed inaudible songs as if directing an orchestra.

Formless chains bound Zici, restraining her heart. The lady she admired was unapproachable. Could she handle the consequence of her action?

A shout disrupted her thought, but it originated from herself, from her heart. It broke the chains, whose strong appearance crumbled like sands, and pushed her onward.

No turning back now.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

She nervously went to her lady’s side. The bubbling streams no longer irritated her. She quietly waited for when her attention was reciprocated.

Illusory clouds condensed around the artificial sun. Daylight dimmed as the twirling currents quietened their flow.

Iris returned Zici’s focus. She no longer donned that propriety smile, yet her expression remained warm, too warm for a shivering heart.

“Is it time?” Iris said.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Is now . . . appropriate?”

“Will there ever be an appropriate time?”

“Only you can know that.”

Zici clenched her fists. She looked up, at her lady’s bright, glimmering, mystical eyes. Sentences formed in her chest, waiting to reveal themselves.

Her body wouldn’t follow her irresolute, nervous plead.

“This won’t do.” Iris shook her head. “Our alone time has ended.”

Antina carefreely strolled to her mistress. While cleaning the cold vapours staining her mistress’s hands, she peeked at the flushing Zici.

Zici lowered her head, air fizzling inside her.

“We’ve experienced enough of this place,” Iris said. “Dear Zici, will you guide us to meet the Archive Overseer?”

Iris’s hopeful voice filled the hole inside Zici with warm, slimy liquid. She devotedly led her two guests through the fourth floor, through the memorised path, through the waterfall and hills, through columns of floating tomes.

They arrived at a series of moss-covered stone staircases. Thousands of steps, leading to a cloudy height, dwarfed the surrounding sea as a mountain that challenged heaven.

Feeling dizzy, Zici swallowed. She might be able to walk the distance, but how could she force her honourable guests to accompany her?

“My apology, Lady Iris,” she said. “If I knew we had to ascend through these steps, I would’ve prepared a transportation device.”

“Such a thing would be unnecessary.” Iris covered her smile. “Shall we enjoy the scenery?”

“As Mistress wishes.” Antina eyed Zici and pointed at her own heart.

“If . . . that’s your wish.” Zici nodded.

The three slowly scaled the mountain. Bushes and flowers along the path perfumed the air with their complementary scents. The continuous churning of the sea muffled under the rustling of the leaves and the wafting of the winds, with the crisp sounds of wooden lanterns swinging breaking the rhythm.

Despite what felt like an hour, Zici couldn’t feel tired. Her energetic heart worried about what could’ve been, yet she remained lively, livelier than ever.

An aura of rejuvenation enveloped her. She glanced behind her, behind her guests, but she couldn’t see the sea anymore. A thick misty membrane reclaimed the land she once traversed.

She then observed her guests. Lady Iris remained always unreadable. Antina occasionally gave her a teasing look before focusing on the interplay of energy flows.

By ascending the mountain, Zici experienced mystical phenomena. Her sight sharpened, her mind cleared, and her body revitalised. The shifting flow of Elements surrounded her every movement, instilling a sense of wholeness into her every gesture.

Iris slowed. Her maid and her guide followed. They reached a plateau, their path now a dirt road with occasional stone lamps providing soft illumination. An impressive ruin, of broken pillars and collapsed stone buildings, encircled the land with the sprawling nature covering the sky.

At the centre hall of the ruin, an old man in a light blue robe stood waiting. Countless tiny symbols flickered all around, connecting the ruin with his shadow.

A strong gush blew past him. His robe waved, but his silhouette remained unmovable. His wise eyes landed on Zici, who involuntarily escaped his gaze, then Antina, who stayed herself like the deep ocean, and finally Iris.

Iris maintained her slight smile. The gush went past her, unable to move even her flowing hair. She stepped forth, yet her footsteps never echoed. Her presence never registered upon the land she walked.

Disconnected from the world.

Her otherworldly motion shifted her from the edge of the plateau to the three-step stair leading to the monumental hall. She lifted her head.

The Archive Overseer lowered his.

“Greetings, Iris. My name is Veridius Symbrone,” Veridius said. “I’ve heard of your achievement.”

“And I’ve heard of yours.” Iris curtseyed. “An honour to meet the best Mage of the Symbrone Family.”

“It would be embarrassing if I achieve nothing despite living for this long.”

“You’re too modest.”

Veridius offered to take Iris to the guest room. Iris accepted, and her two followers caught up to her. Zici snuck a peek at the Archive Overseer but said nothing, using only her eyes to express her wonder.

The guest chamber was the most intact room in the hall. Although mild sunlight and vines had invaded the interior, it still retained its structure. Iris sat in the middle of the sofa before forcing her maid and her guide to sit intimately close to her.

“Antina, could you bring us some tea?” Iris said.

Zici didn’t dare to deliberate for too long and copied Iris’s order. Antina returned with freshly served tea she obtained elsewhere.

“The Fifth Princess’s already guaranteed your reliability.” Veridius sipped the black tea. “I hope this formality won’t waste too much of your time.”

“Time spent learning from you is never wasted.”

Veridius laughed. “It’s not yet clear who will be teaching who.”

“Boring you with ancient history would be my disgrace.”

Silence claimed the room. Iris and Veridius appeared unbothered, but Zici shifted in her seat, discomforted by her thoughts. Every movement of hers touched her lady, tingling everywhere.

Veridius rhythmically tapped the tea table. The marble surface vibrated, waving. The sound produced lingered in the room, echoed in the ears, and repeated in the heart.

Drowsiness blanketed Zici. Her eyes blurred as her head drooped. Her face touched something soft. She jerked back up and snapped open her eyes.

Iris lightly touched her own chest while showing a smirk.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to do that!” Zici’s breathing unravelled. “My heart wouldn’t let me do anything indecent to you. You’re too precious, too noble, too fairylike for someone like me. I can only love you from afar.”

Zici turned crimson as words flooded out of her soul. She couldn’t even believe them. Why did she say those words? Why did those thoughts cross her?

She stuttered, stuttered to apologise, stuttered to excuse herself. Her lips pursed together, sealing whatever words that might leak out.

“I’ve received your feeling, Dear Zici.” Iris embraced her terrified guide, stroking her hair. “Suppressing your emotions will only cause outbursts like this.”

Veridius stopped tapping the table. The airy atmosphere vanished. “That exceeds my expectation.”

“No one can predict everything.”

“That means you are beyond my mean.”

Veridius looked at the ever-aloof lady and her maid, whose emotions he couldn’t read or influence. He nodded at the confused Zici, assuring her of compensation, before he returned his undivided attention to Iris.

“Allow me to recompense you,” he said. “I got curious about your motive, but instead I made a mistake.”

“You only tried to ascertain my ability.”

“I’ve made a fool out of myself. Will you let me fix this mishap?”

Veridius placed a deck of cards on the table. Their dark green covers contrasted against the white marble surface.

Sensing the mystique of the cards, Zici almost jumped out of Iris’s touch. She wouldn’t have thought she would see these cards, the cards that had cleared many enduring doubts and puzzles. She turned to her guest with expectant eyes.

“Will we be wagering anything?” Iris said. “It might be too dull otherwise.”

“One truth. The winner will get to ask a question.”

“Let’s keep the question a secret. Nothing is more exciting than ambiguity.”

“Then, shall we begin?”