Stifling a yawn, I stretched languidly into the plush upholstery of my chair, turning my head away from the mostly blank parchment in front of me. My gaze drifted upwards to the towering bookshelves of Tulsworth Academy’s third library, their peaks obscured by darkness. The everlight lantern I had enchanted in my first year held the shadows at bay, at least in my immediate vicinity.
Midnight approached, but the library refused to settle. Quills scratched, noses sniffled, and pages turned – a constant stream of small irritations. Convenient, really. It meant I could blame my lack of progress on the noise, rather than admit I’d spent the last hour finding reasons not to start.
I sighed. History had never interested me, continental history even less so. The history of magic had been a struggle I barely managed to pass, even if my teachers had tutted at me over my essays focusing more on the magic than the history.
I just didn’t much care for what had happened hundreds of years ago. And the monotonous, droning voice and stale writing style of my teachers didn’t inspire much in the way of excitement. It was almost impressive, really, how they’d managed to make a war between the world’s greatest practitioners of magic a tedious lecture of numbers and places.
Shaking my head clear of wandering thoughts, I turned back to the parchment and my small tower of books. This was my last assessment before I was officially given the title of Academy Wizard, and I’d already been granted a half-dozen extensions – the tutors tolerated my indifference toward mundane studies, so long as I delivered with magic.
Leaning forward against the long wooden table of the breakout area, I suppressed my boredom and picked up my quill.
Naturally, that was when I was interrupted.
The sound of quickly shuffling feet on the soft carpet floors was all the warning I got before I felt hands settle on my shoulders, pulling me back into my chair.
“Elias is on vault duty tonight.”
Only one person in this Academy sounded that delighted by rule-breaking. Sebastian and I had been friends since our first year at Tulsworth, a shared period of detention being the perfect pot to brew a lasting friendship, and this friendship had only grown in the dozens of shared detentions that would follow.
Sebastian was as indifferent to decency as I was to history, with a knack for getting us into – and, usually, out of – trouble. Often in the same evening. It was remarkable he hadn’t yet been expelled, though sometimes it seemed like that was his goal – a spiteful rebellion against the parents who’d shipped him here to be raised by someone else.
My parents, of course, were dead. So I can’t say I related to where he was coming from in this regard, but his antics did lead to some interesting evenings.
“I thought Elias was barred from vault duty after last time?” I said, attention pulling from the essay once more. I still had hours to do it, so there’d be no harm in a few minutes of conversation.
“End of the year, brother,” Sebastian grinned. “The respectable lot are studying for finals, and the less respectable are celebrating getting one year closer to graduation.”
“Leaving us the reprobates,” I said.
“And degenerates! The opportunists willing to avert their gazes for the right price.”
Sebastian flopped into the chair beside me, his green eyes flicking over my study materials before dismissing them entirely.
“Elias comes cheap, too,” he continued. “We’ve got the coin, courtesy of the bank of Ma and Pa. If you agree to do a minor working for him, he’ll give us all the time we need.”
I knew he was right. We’d dealt with Elias before and his price for access to the Grand Vault of Tulsworth was hilariously rudimentary. The coin admittedly was more than I would be comfortable spending, but thankfully we had Sebastian’s family fronting that cost. Even after ostensibly cutting him off, they clearly had no idea what counted as a reasonable allowance. If history was any indication, apart from the money Elias would also ask for a working. Last time it was a fire-starting charm, a minor enchantment that took me a few hours and would have been easy when I first started schooling. If Elias was willing to do the work, he would likely be able to do it himself.
Then again, probably not. He was, alas, a talentless hack.
But for access to the vault? I’d sell my talents in spades.
I tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the half-finished sentence. Then, in a moment of profound academic clarity, I abandoned the essay entirely.
“Shall we go give our favorite scoundrel his payment, then?”
*****
Sebastian was frustrating to follow, his long legs and excitable nature set a pace my shorter frame struggled to match. The occasional backward glance and smug smile told me he knew it, too. Rolling my eyes and resisting the urge to trip him, I asked, “Are you really still chasing after that book? There’s no shortage of interesting and real things in the vault, you know.”
Sebastian pivoted, walking backward as he shot me another of those infuriating smiles. “Ah, but none as cool as an actual copy of Tulsworth’s spellbook, yes?”
Sebastian had heard a rumor months ago. Deep in the Grand Vault, beyond the sections guarded by nothing more than an inattentive teenager, lay true relics. Pre-War artifacts. Among them, supposedly, was Tulsworth’s spellbook.
It was nonsense, of course. A wizard’s spellbook wasn’t just a list of spells – it contained their entire thought process, their breakthroughs, the path they walked to power. If Tulsworth’s spellbook still existed, it wouldn’t be rotting in some vault. It would be in the hands of the academy’s professors, studied meticulously in the hopes of reclaiming the magic that had been lost with his disappearance.
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Or at least, I hoped so. Tulsworth’s vanishing had marked the end of an era. The ninth and tenth circles of magic had become myths. It had been decades since anyone had even advanced to the fifth. One of my professors was only a third-circle wizard – he wouldn’t even have graduated his apprenticeship in the old days.
But I digress. Even if the spellbook existed, and even if it was hidden in a vault guarded by the likes of Elias, and even if Sebastian somehow found the spellbook without being vaporized, getting it out would be impossible. Something that valuable would be absolutely smothered in enchantments. He’d have better luck convincing a lich to teach him necromancy.
“If you say so, brother. I look forward to watching you spend an outrageous amount of money to leave with nothing. Again,” I said, breathing slightly heavier than I’d like to admit. The last few years had been devoted almost entirely to my arcane studies. Perhaps it was time to incorporate more physical training into my routine.
Sebastian chuckled, running a hand through his tousled blond hair before spinning on his heel, his long coat flaring behind him as he quickened his pace down the long stone corridors toward the heart of the Academy. The halls were empty at this hour, our footsteps echoing off the walls. Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to spot a wandering prefect or professor.
I shook it off. We weren’t first-years, bound to our dorms by curfew. Technically, we weren’t even breaking any rules.
For the next few minutes, at least.
The late-night chill deepened as we walked, the lack of warmth from the everlight lanterns growing more apparent. I shivered, earning a chuckle from Sebastian.
“Nervous? Relax, we’re expected,” he said, not even bothering to hide the laughter in his eyes.
“I’m cold, you arse. And besides, a little nervousness would do you some good. You get caught too often to be this confident,” I muttered.
At the corridor’s end, a pair of heavy wooden doors stood slightly ajar, a faint orange glow spilling from within. Firelight, distinctly different from the pale blue of my own enchanted torch.
“Getting caught matters less when you look like you belong,” Sebastian shot back. “Confidence, Silas, is everything.”
A familiar voice drifted out from inside. “If you two are done flirting out there, maybe we can get down to business?”
Sebastian jerked his head toward the door, and we stepped inside.
The antechamber was blessedly warm, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across walls lined with old, dust-laden tapestries. A thick woollen carpet muffled our footsteps, a welcome contrast to the cold stone halls we’d left behind. The only trace of cold came from the massive stone door at the far end, its surface pulsing faintly with ancient magic, as if it held secrets far older than the walls around it. It seemed to watch us, a silent sentinel to whatever lay beyond. Elias lounged in one of the three plush armchairs in front of the fire, rather than his mandated spot behind the counter.
“Took your damn time. I was starting to think you weren’t taking this seriously,” he grumbled. With a sigh, he tossed the book he’d been flicking through onto the tea table, where it landed beside a half-eaten meal.
“I have never once been accused of taking you seriously, my dear,” Sebastian said, dropping into the chair across from Elias. Without hesitation, he plucked up the fork and speared a bite from the abandoned plate.
“Cute.” Elias’ eyes flicked to me, glinting with the kind of greed only slightly restrained by politeness. “Ah, the little prodigy. Come to join the fun, I assume?”
“You assume correctly,” I said, closing the door behind me and stretching my hands toward the fire. “What’s the price?”
“I heard your last haul was quite the success.” Elias leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming. “An Amulet of Tongues –”
“Absolutely not.”
Elias barely paused. “ – is, of course, far too much to ask. But perhaps something lesser? Something within your abilities to make?”
I frowned. The amulet I had picked up in my last foray into the vault was likely my most valuable possession – giving me the ability to understand and speak any language I heard. The magic making up the enchantment was third circle, beyond my abilities to reproduce, and even if I could it would only be for short bursts of time. But a lesser enchantment I could do.
“I have a Ring of Comprehend Languages. Give me three days? I need it at present, but once I’m finished, I’d happily…” I trailed off, seeing him shake his head.
“Then you can come back in three days. No promises on who’ll be guarding the vault then, but I do wish you luck convincing them.”
“You were fine waiting last time!” I hissed, fixing him with my gaze for the first time since entering the room. He was dressed as sloppily as ever, his cravat barely making an effort to stay tied, the buttons of his waistcoat mismatched, and a single cuff undone – perhaps as some sort of quiet rebellion against the concept of looking presentable.
“That’s before I was put on probation. If I might be booted from the Academy for this, I want something other than words to show for it.”
I really did need this ring. The Amulet of Tongues was powerful, but useless for reading, and my essay demanded more than just spoken word. Without the ring, I’d be stuck parsing half-translated gibberish for days. But I could make another. Eventually. And considering the absurd number of extensions they’d already granted me, what was a little longer?
“Fine.” I said, deliberately removing the ring from my finger and placing it on the table, next to the now completed meal.
“Heartwarming, truly.” Sebastian wiped his mouth on the tablecloth with all the grace of a spoiled noble. “Now, since I’ve spent an obscene amount of money on this little adventure, let’s get moving before I start demanding refunds.”
Elias snatched up the ring and pocketed it before making his way to the counter, where he leaned over and rummaged through the clutter with all the precision of a man who considered organization someone else’s problem. After a brief, haphazard search, he retrieved the ritual dagger stored there. It was ancient, which was the only impressive thing about it.
The enchantment holding for this long was certainly unusual, but that was helped by its base nature – there were no layers of intricate magic at play, just a single rune carved along its face. Sharpness. It would hold its edge forever, which, I supposed, was incredibly impressive if you’d never seen a grindstone.
Dagger in hand, he led us toward the door.
The vault entrance loomed before us, a monolith of carved stone twice my height and nearly as wide. Every inch was covered in layered enchantments, the air humming faintly with trapped power. The Grand Vault of Tulsworth was likely the oldest part of the school, with it being where the Archmage Tulsworth stored his various valuables when he was still slinging lightning and rewriting reality as an adventurer.
Ever since his disappearance, the place had only grown in mystery, with students over the years claiming that he either haunted the vault as a ghost or in truth. The unfortunate reality was that the greatest treasures had long since been looted by professors with either academic curiosity or an eye for resale. What remained was a hoarder’s trove of magical mediocrity: thousands of spellbooks penned by second-rate wizards and baubles enchanted by third-rate sorcerers, gathering dust under the pretense of legacy.
A swift motion, a sharp hiss of pain, and Elias pressed his bloody hand to the door’s rune-carved surface. The stone drank greedily, wards and safeguards flickering to life, then fading as they were deactivated, satisfied with the guardian’s willing sacrifice. My ears popped as the dormant magic surged, shifting from a low hum to something crushingly tangible. My limbs locked under the weight of it – I might have collapsed had I been able to move. After a moment that stretched into eternity, the magic released its grip. The vault groaned, gears grinding as its massive locks disengaged, and the doors slowly parted before us.
“Fuck’s sake,” Sebastian gasped. At some point, he’d hit the floor, and now he hauled himself upright with a shaky breath. “Never going to get used to that.”
“You have an hour. Any longer, and I might run dry – I can’t keep this open forever.” Elias made his way back to the warmth of the fireplace, already losing interest. “Happy hunting, lads.”
Sebastian and I exchanged a look, a nod, and stepped forward into the waiting dark of the Vault.