Should I ask her about Augmentation?

Kyro leaned back against the counter, trying to look casual while the customer browsed the shelves. His wound throbbed under his tunic as a result, but he kept his expression neutral.

One way or another, he'd have to return to Ruinstead. If that was the case, he wanted to be better prepared than he had been earlier today.

I barely know more about sorcery than the average normie. Most of his knowledge came from scraps of lore, rumors, and hearsay—hardly anything substantial. This was his chance to get real information.

“Excuse me, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... you’re an Augmenter, right?” he said.

The woman didn’t even turn to look at him. “I am. What of it?”

Is it possible to learn Augmentation from the remains of a dead sorcerer? Kyro desperately wanted to ask. But instead, he went with something… less crazy.

“Do you... like it?” he asked.

The woman’s hand paused mid-reach for a trinket on the top shelf. For a moment, Kyro wondered if he had asked something he wasn’t supposed to.

But after a long pause, she finally said, “It’s alright. I mean, it’s not as flashy as being a Manipulator or a Transformer. But I’m not the flashy type, so yes, I suppose I... like it.”

Was there a hint of amusement in her tone? Whatever it was, it vanished as she grabbed the trinket. She frowned, inspected it briefly, then muttered, “Cheap trash,” before discarding it and moving on.

Malthus dealt in enchanted artifacts—items inscribed with runes to grant specific effects or functions. It was a lucrative trade, though not without its challenges.

There were countless enchanted artifact shops in New Taranis, with even better ones in Haven. But occasionally, a sorcerer would come around to see what the normie side of town had to offer.

Malthus usually brought them to the upper floors. Most left satisfied.

I wonder if she’s important enough to make it to the third floor, Kyro thought, feeling a twinge of envy. He decided to get back on track.

“Do you know any spells that make a person hear voices in their head? Like, guiding them and telling them what to do?”

It was a risky question, but Kyro figured he’d have to take some risks eventually. I just hope I don’t sound too suspicious.

“You mean like Telepathy?” she asked, continuing before he could respond. “That’s not really an Augmentation thing. It’s a Divination skill. And before you ask me any more annoying questions, I’m not well-versed in that field. I’d like to get back to my quiet browsing, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, of course,” Kyro said with an awkward smile. Then, biting his lower lip, he added, “Just one more question? It’s the last one, I promise.”

“You’re persistent,” she said, not in a complimentary way. She sighed. “Alright, get it over with.”

“Okay. Uhm... if a friend of mine wanted to learn more about Divination, how would they go about it?” Kyro asked. He’d only just remembered, but one of the bulletins had mentioned something about Nia Soren being a class splicer with annexations in Manipulation and Divination.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Maybe the answers he was looking for were along those lines?

“Well, you can tell your friend that unless he has some powerful connections in the Sorcerers Bureau, or knows a Diviner personally, and I don’t mean any Diviner, but one actually willing to bend the rules, he can forget about it," she said.

"He won’t find anything in public archives either. Diviner information is heavily redacted.”

She scrutinized a black clay pot with red and brown wavy lines before clicking her tongue in disapproval.

“Of course, if he’s rich enough, he can buy access to a Nexus and try to scavenge what he can. You can find almost anything there if you know where to look, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Those searches can be traced, and you don’t want to get caught looking up something you shouldn’t. Especially now, with the Visionkeepers Sect sniffing around.”

“Wait, who?” Kyro asked.

She shot him a fierce glare. “That wasn’t part of the deal. You said one question, remember?”

“Right,” Kyro muttered. “Thanks anyway.” He had more questions, but he’d already gotten more than expected.

Besides, Malthus would probably be down any moment. The last thing Kyro needed was to be caught pestering a customer.

To his surprise, the woman spoke again. “Since you asked me something, how about answering something in return?”

“Uh, sure,” Kyro said, caught off guard. What could a sorcerer possibly want to know from him of all people?

“Do—”

“Ah, Lady Seraphine! I didn’t expect to see you today,” boomed a familiar voice.

Both Kyro and the woman glanced upward, where a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-fifties, with graying hair at the temples tied back into a neat ponytail, descended the stairs.

He walked with a slow, unhurried grace, the subtle but elegant silver patterns along the cuffs and hem of his black tunic glistening faintly.

The moment Malthus came into view, Seraphine’s eyes narrowed.

“Mr. Manasa,” she said, her lips curling into a small smile, though her eyes did not share the same warmth.

Lady Seraphine? Kyro blinked. Malthus clearly knew her, which meant she was someone important. But he was sure he’d never seen her before. A new client, perhaps?

“I hope my young protégé wasn’t bothering you,” Malthus said, resting a hand on Kyro’s shoulder in what appeared to be an innocent gesture. But the pressure sent a sharp pain through Kyro’s chest, making him flinch.

Kyro did his best to hide it, but Malthus noticed. Concern flashed briefly in the old man’s eyes before he turned back to Seraphine.

“Forgive his bluntness,” Malthus said smoothly. “The boy’s still learning. But rest assured, you wouldn’t have gotten any information out of him. I don’t disclose my suppliers to anyone—not even him.”

Wait, what’s happening?

Seraphine’s smile vanished. “I take it your answer hasn’t changed, then?”

“Unfortunately,” Malthus replied, his tone still friendly but firm. “Discretion is what keeps me in business, you see. And that particular supplier is very, well, particular, about their anonymity. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

“And that's your final answer? That's what you want me to report to my superiors?” Her eyes flickered dangerously between Malthus and Kyro.

Kyro swallowed hard, but Malthus didn’t miss a beat.

“I have nothing but respect for Lord Dalken and Great House Thorne, Lady Seraphine,” he said, his smile unwavering. But a touch of steel entered his voice when he said, “But I don’t break my oaths."

Wait. Great House Thorne? Kyro felt a chill race down his spine.

As in, that Great House Thorne?

Oh no, this is bad. Really bad.

The silence between them stretched like a taut bowstring. After what felt like an eternity, Seraphine exhaled sharply, her frustration evident. She spun on her heel, her cloak snapping behind her as she stormed toward the door.

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” she said coldly before disappearing outside. The doorbell jingled faintly as it closed, leaving an almost eerie stillness in the shop.

“Well... that was tense,” Kyro muttered, exhaling a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

Malthus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Was it really okay to turn her away? I mean, Great House Thorne—”

“I know who they are,” Malthus cut in, his voice low. “And you’re right—it wasn’t... ideal.”

He glanced at Kyro, his expression suddenly unreadable. “You and I need to talk,” he said, turning back toward the stairs.

“Right.” Kyro’s stomach sank.