An Illusion

Rhayne opened her eyes. She listened to the silence in her room for a few moments, letting her jumbled thoughts settle down. Lately, she had trouble sleeping. There was an air of uneasiness clustered around her, like an annoying bubble that wouldn’t dissapear, no matter how much she waved it away. She heaved her legs off the edge of the bed and sat up. Trailing her hands through her messy hair, she took a deep breath and cracked her neck, alleviating the built up strain that came from her not-so-soft pillow. One would think that being a Librarian Aspirant came with certain perks such as soft beds, but that was not always the case. She stood up, did a few stretches with her arms lifted above her head and headed for the bathroom.

Her room was cluttered with different scrolls and parchments of paper that had Ruhric Symbols scribbled all over them. She called it her “creative mess”, but in reality, she felt too lazy to tidy up her room and organize her documents. Her teachers would call that “irresponsible behaviour” and “childish”, but she couldn’t be bothered. She kicked a large bag that was standing in her way to the bathroom to the side, and went inside. Without wasting any time, she opened the tap and splashed ice-cold water on her face and down her neck. In seconds, she was wide-awake. As part of her waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-do-shady-shit routine, she stared at herself in the mirror for a few moments. Black bags under her eyes that had a tired look in them, a naughty strand of hair that jutted out, making her head look like an old, ragged broom, chapped lips and her almost-invisibly sunken cheeks. In short, she looked like she did not sleep for days. And she felt like it, even though she just got up from an eight-hour slumber.

“I hate this.” She muttered under her breath, as she took a brush and started brushing her wild hair in order. The second time she looked at herself, she resembled a half-decent human being and decided that that will do, for now. Taking off her sleeping gown, she stared at her pale skin that faintly reflected the silver moonlight that came through the small window in the bathroom. Scars covered her abdomen in an intricate network that she was sure not even the most talented tattooist could recreate. Her fingers traced across them, as flashing images of her rather pathetic childhood, she thought, raced through her mind. She shuddered as she averted her gaze from the scarred tissue onto something more interesting.

The Sigil. It glowed faintly, as it absorbed the Ruhric Energy that was present in the air around her. It was a circle that was made of interwoven Ruhric Symbols – with an impossible pattern to it. Lines that didn’t have an origin point, merging with other lines that had no endpoint, shapes meshing with one another in a seemingly smooth transition at first glance, but upon second glance, looking like a jagged net of random lines thrown together. She could swear that the Sigil, which was located under her right collar bone, moved as if it was alive. She felt a wave of calm washing over her, as the faint warmth originating from the Sigil spread through her aching body. It was a pleasant side effect of having Magical Tattoos etched in your body by a very powerful mage. She felt her connection to the Ruhric Ocean even when she was not actively using magic. And it made her feel confident in the task at hand.

Using a towel, she dried the excess water that was left on her skin from the intense water splashing, and got out. Quickly, she threw her outfit on. A grey undershirt, tucked into her dark-blue pants, and a dark-blue coat, that had a large symbol of the Librarian Order woven by golden thread onto its upper back. The rest of the coat was covered with golden overlays in patterns that she thought looked nice – although a bit too complicated for her taste. She liked her clothes as plain as possible, and walking around in gilded embroidery isn’t exactly her first choice. But, the Mages had a sense of flair and Librarian Uniforms were all intricately tailored, looking like something the nobles of Elderhearth would wear. They had to keep up appearances no matter what, or they would suddenly lose all of their credibility, or they just liked looking fancy. Whatever the reason was, she didn’t really like the overall aesthetic of the Librarians. She was still years away from getting her full Librarian Title, as she was still an Aspirant who needed her mentor’s recommendation for the full Title and her mentor was a stingy bastard who kept on yapping about the importance of studying until perfection was achieved. Which was in of itself, a paradox, since he always said that mages could never achieve true perfection.

She realized she was standing in the middle of her room, staring at a random corner of the ceiling and thinking about clothes. “Damn it.” She scowled and started hurriedly putting on her leather bracers – the left one was a plain leather-brown bracer, while the right had the Librarian Symbol painted on, in a bright red colour, which signified her status. Despite everything, she was excited about the day she could finally put on the White Bracer of the Librarian Order, and proudly walk the streets as a full-fledged Mage of the Order.

She pulled out two crystallum daggers from underneath her bed. Two thin, long blades that were able to penetrate any magical barrier due to their magical properties that were interlocked with the alloy they were crafted with. She was going to use them tonight. That thought made her smile. But then she realized she was excited about murder so she quickly wiped her smile away. “That’s nothing to be proud of, Rhayne. You’re doing a job. This isn’t supposed to be enjoyable.” But the elation she felt at the prospect of sliding the thin blades through the bodies of some less-than-savoury characters told her otherwise. She stuffed them inside her coat, in the hidden blade sheaths she made herself and looked at herself in the mirror, making sure that the handles weren’t sticking out through the fabric.

Marching over to her clothes cabinet, she took a deep breath. Quickly, she moved all the hanging clothes to the side, revealing the cabinet’s back made out of solid wood. Her fingers found the hidden latch and a loud click was heard as the fake back squealed open. “I’ll need to get the hinges oiled, otherwise half the Librarian Tower’s going to hear me.” She muttered to herself. “Don’t talk to yourself, people will think you’re crazy.” She whispered. Rhayne rolled her eyes in disappointment. You don’t have to think out loud. She reminded herself, as she pried open the fake back.

The lifeless eyes of a decapitated head that belonged to one of the high ranking Librarians met her gaze.

“Yuckh” she sounded disgusted. “It looks just like the real thing.” She stopped for a second and said “It would suck if you tried to pull off an illusion without having any real-life reference, now would it, Rhayne?” Quickly, she opened herself to the invisible Ocean of Magic around her and pulled the flows of Essence, Body and Air into herself, letting the energies course through her body for a few seconds before establishing a steady, unbroken flow. I am a catalyst. I let the flows pass through me, as I guide them and shape them. I do not bend under the strain, and I do not break under the pressure. I am one with Ruhanaan, as it flows through me. She recited the Librarian Mantra in her head, finding her calm.

With a few quick finger motions, the decapitated head started to shimmer. She was opening a hole in the invisible network of Command Words that were hovering around the head. “Reveal!” she said quietly, directing the interwoven flows of Essence, Body and Air through the opening she’d made. In a second, the illusion broke apart, revealing a sack of rice that was roughly the size of a human head. She wrapped her fingers around the flows of energy that made up the “Reveal” Command Word, and yanked them upwards – breaking them, as the illusion of a decapitated head settled back in. Satisfied with the fact that her illusion survived an entire week without her supervision, she directed some extra energy into the Command Words that made up mirage, and grabbed the fake head by its hair. Before she would stow it away, she weaved a few more Command Words around the illusion, masking it completely. Nothing short of a very strong Reveal spell would dispel the trick. This part was especially important, because if someone realized there was magic involved and decided to poke around the fake head, they would soon discover that it wasn’t in fact, a human head, but a sack of rice and that was sure to spell trouble for her. Especially tonight.

She grabbed a bag and stuffed the head inside, throwing the strap over her shoulder. Under her other arm, she jammed her boots and quietly sneaked out of her room. In long, silent strides she made her way across the Aspirant Hallway. The coldness of stone felt pleasing to her bare feet. In a few moments, she reached the entrance to the staircase. Using the elevator was out of the question because their motion was carefully monitored. And it was three hours after midnight – a time when no Aspirant is supposed to be awake. This whole “sneaking in the dead of night” thing would be much harder if the Ruhric Detectors could register the fact that she was actively using Ruhanaan. No mage could do so without her will, thanks to the Sigil that was comfortably heating her skin. It was a gift from her master – a complicated network of Command Words that hid her magical presence away from other mages and other things that could detect magic – which allowed her to use magic without anyone around her being aware of the fact.

She had to make her way to the northern part of the Halls of Arcana, which was located almost twenty floors under the Aspirant Quarters, and on the opposite side of her in the Librarian Citadel. I hate stairs so much. She thought to herself as she snuck inside the staircase, slipped on her boots and started to descend. At first it was slow and careful, as she was paying attention to potential threats in the form of suddenly being discovered by someone else. That quickly bored her, so she formed a Mirror illusion around herself – a spell that reflected the space behind her, removing her from sight. She was still there, but only those with Ruhric Sight could tell that she was behind a fairly simple net of Command Words. Then she started jumping over three or four steps at a time. She streaked down the staircase, traversing the distance of twenty floors in a few short minutes. When she finally arrived to the entrance into the hallway that led into the Halls of Arcana, she leaned against the wall that was opposite of the entrance – her chest heaving with breathlessness. She took a series of deep breath-ins and breath-outs, as her heart rate and breathing calmed once again. She could feel multiple beads of sweat racing down the small of her back. Dissolving the Mirror around her, she quickly glanced inside her bag – the head was still there, the illusion unbroken. She knew she had to operate very carefully, because the extent of her illusions was three at a time – with every illusion being weaker than the last. At the moment, the head inside of the bag was a very strong illusion, taking up a lot of her energy. Lucky for her, she practiced the routine she has planned for tonight at least a dozen times, so she was fairly confident in her own abilities. Even if things go sideways, she always can resort to brutal knife combat that she had learned during her time as an active gang member in one of Elderhearth’s notorious gangs. But that life was behind her. She had to focus at the task at hand – and that involved meeting some very shady characters who roped her in on a particularly nasty scheme. Or so they thought. She smirked and stepped through the archway into the hallway that led to the Halls of Arcana.

The stonework was very intricate here. She could see the intricate Command Word patterns that were engraved in the massive stone blocks all around her. They were mostly the handiwork of Earth mages who diligently worked in order to strengthen the stone foundations of the Librarian Citadel. She knew that if this particular part of the Citadel she was in was hit by heavy cannon fire, it would do little to no damage – thanks to the strengthening wards in the stone. Lanterns that were lit up using a very intricate system of Fire Crystals illuminated the way. There were no windows in the Halls of Arcana. It was because, here, most of the magic-related accidents where Librarians end up blown to smithereens, happen. Librarian mages use the Halls of Arcana as their workshop. New spells, magic items and other uses of magic technology are tested here. Which is an excellent choice of location for a secret meeting of mages who were up to no good, due to high levels of residual and active Ruhric energy that has congregated in the Halls of Arcana over numerous decades. Magic detection down here is outright useless – unless you’re Jack Waylander, the Archmage, of course. Word is, he could detect a piece of cloth in the middle of a gargantuan Ruhric Storm on the other side of the World. In most cases, this would just be an overblown rumour, but if you know who Jack Waylander is, you know that any rumour about him is probably an understatement. Rhayne’s thoughts raced all over the place. She found comfort in chaos. If she focused on the potential outcomes of her mission, she would probably kick herself into a very dark, depressing place where there’s nothing but failure, which would in turn cause her to become very paranoid and panic, and potentially ruin everything because of her nervousness. “And you wouldn’t want that, would you Rey?” she whispered the question to herself – which jerked her wandering mind back into focus.

She was in front of the massive door that was the entrance into the Halls of Arcana. They were engraved with magic, since she could feel her Sigil pulsating. It was a similar magic to what was etched into her skin. However, the Command Words that created the complex network of spells were cleverly hidden in the engraved patterns on the door, so there was no way that she could even begin to comprehend what kind of spells are on the door. She just knew that the moving images of Librarian mages locked in battle with what seemed like unnatural beasts that resembled the pictures from her textbooks on Aberrations, looked quite spectacular and pleasing to the eye. She has seen her fair share of the Librarian Citadel, but no matter how many times she saw certain things, they don’t fail to awe her whenever next she does. The door to the Hall of Arcana is one of those things.

She threw her hood over her head and knocked at the door in a knocking pattern that was previously taught to her by the same people she was to meet tonight.

After waiting for a few minutes, the door cracked open. A lone eye appeared in the crack, inspecting her. She cupped the fingers of her right hand over the outstretched fingers of her left, so her palms created a shape that resembled an “inverse trident”. The secret sign of the Triumvirate, a dark brotherhood of mages who have a bone to pick with the entire Librarian Order. The eye beyond the door looked at her gesture for a few moments before opening the door.

“Welcome, Sister.” A deep voice echoed beside her, as she stepped through the door. That made her heart skip, but she remained calm. “Thank you, Brother.” She answered, pitching her voice slightly lower than usual. “I have come, bearing gifts. I have come into your fold.”

“Then walk with me, Sister.” The deep voice told her. It was the familiar voice of a very notorious Librarian Saheem Bayur – The Lion. She was the one who discovered him as a member of the Triumvirate – and initiated contact, deliberately leaving hints for him that she was willing to betray the Librarian Order and join his little organizations of shady mages who were up to no good. She received an invitation into his quarters very soon after she started leaving breadcrumbs, where he told her that if she was willing to join the Triumvirate, she was to kill a known mage and bring him the head. And now she’s here, with the “head” in her bag, walking towards the secret meeting place of an enemy organization deep within the Librarian Citadel. Sucks to be them. She amusedly thought to herself.

Saheem walked in front of her, and in a cold tone, said: “Wait.” Then he disappeared behind another door.

Rhayne feigned a leisurely stance, in case someone was watching her, but she was taking deep breaths, calming herself down – as she was now standing deep in enemy territory. She pulled on the flows of Essence, Body and Air, and the magic coursing through her being centered her. It gave her calm and serenity – something she desperately needed. She quickly thought about the heavy, protein-filled meat breakfast she was going to wolf down as soon as she’s done with this whole thing. Despite looking like a slender, athletic young woman, the other Aspirants called her “The Carnivore”. If it was a nickname out of fear or respect, she wasn’t sure. One time, a big, musclebrain-type of a guy – Selio was his name – thought it would be funny if he mocked her in front of everyone in the Mess Hall, calling her a pig and other various names. The fact that he was a full Librarian, although a recent graduate, didn’t stop Rhayne from turning his face into a bloody mess. He was helpless.

Her nostalgic thoughts about obliterating Selio’s nose were abruptly interrupted as Saheem’s deep voice suddenly said: “Come, Sister.”
She snapped out of her trip down memory lane and walked in through the door.

A fairly large circular room greeted her. In the center of it, a piece of stone – chiseled to look like a triangle – was floating above the marble floor. She could recognize the Command Words for “Levitate” engraved in the side of the stone triangle. That made her feel at ease because she won’t have to deal with levitation mages tonight. Three stone pillars were standing at the far edge of the room, and a banner with the upside-down trident woven in gold was hanged off of the central pillar. What is it with mages and gold? Rhayne wondered for herself.

On the opposite side of the pillars, three hooded figures were sitting behind a very formal table, draped in crimson cloth that was embroidered with very fine etchings and floral patterns – with the upside-down trident in the very center of it. The faces of the three were obscured by masks, so Rhayne had no idea who might the mages be. Most of all, she hated doing anything while being completely uninformed. She knew Saheem could summon a spectral lion to fight in his stead – and that lion was more dangerous than the real thing. He was known to mercilessly hunt down his targets no matter how far they run, no matter where they hide – which is why they call him the Lion. She could take him on if it was only the two of them, but with three unknown mages in the room with her, she wasn’t so sure. She could always plan the attack for another day.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Saheem loudly saying: “We gathered here, to welcome a Sister into the fold.”

The three mages who were seated, chanted in unison: “Hear, hear!”

“As it is ordained, to be invited into the Brotherhood, one must carry out a task and bring a gift.” Saheem continued, moving over to stand directly in front of the Triumvirate banner, with the upside-down trident hanging above his head.

“A task must be done.” The first mage said.

“A gift must be brought.” The second mage said.

“And the initiate shall be judged!” the third mage said, but something about his voice struck Rhayne as oddly familiar.

“As the tradition orders, the initiate shall not use magic during the trial.” The familiar voice sounded as if was gloating, and Rhayne realized that it belonged to Selio. How in the ever-loving fuck did that dimwit worm his way into here? She felt alarmed – she wanted to get out of that room right this moment and never look back. There was something creepy in the fact that she was thinking about Selio before she stepped into the room. She hadn’t seen or heard anything from him in the past three years. Shut up, dumb girl. Calm yourself. You know his powers. You know how to fight him. You can do it.

She recited a part of the Librarian Mantra: I do not bend under the strain, and I do not break under the pressure. I am one with Ruhanaan, as it flows through me.

And she pulled on the flows that were all around her. She felt extreme pleasure over the fact that the four mages in the room could not feel that she was using magic. Fuck you, and your rules. She thought but wished she could’ve screamed it in their faces.

“Initiate!” she jerked her head towards Saheem. “Bring your gift.” He ordered in a commanding tone.

She approached the levitating triangle, and from her bag, she picked up the sack of rice that had the illusion of a decapitated head woven over it. She poured a little more energy into the protective wards that hid the illusion, making sure it stays unbreakable and hidden. She took it out and placed it on the floating stone triangle. Subtly, she flicked her fingers, causing an audible illusion of squelching flesh, as the sack of rice hit the stone, to be heard.

Saheem approached the head and inspected it for a brief moment. He then took it in his hands and held it in front of himself, as if to present it to the jury of three hooded and masked mages that were sitting in front of him. They all gazed upon the severed head for a few brief moments, before the mage on the left raised his hand up and took off his mask.

It was the mage she was supposed to kill.

“That’s not good.” She whispered.

Before any of them could react, she’d thrown a tight Mirror around herself, making her technically invisible. After a very quick and practiced series of complex Command Words, an illusion of herself – her clone – was left standing in the exact same spot where she was standing as she threw herself into motion.

She kicked the levitating stone triangle with all her might, directly into Saheem. He let out a loud, painful grunt as the stone slammed directly into his stomach, knocking him to the floor. The mages that were sitting at the table were already getting up to their feet, but not before Rhayne could reach them. She pulled on to her flows of Body – giving her the slightest edge in agility. Her clone was still standing where she left it, and as she was drawing her long daggers from under her coat, she flicked her fingers and made the clone run at the mages.

This distracted them, if only for a second as she flung herself over the table, plunging the blades deep into the chests of the first two mages. They let out a strained squeal, as they died. Luckily for her, she wouldn’t have to confirm her kills with them, due to the fact that she had thrown the entire force of her body behind the two daggers, and they were long daggers. She knew they were dead, as the fluid motion of her hand jerked to a stop when the crossguards of the daggers prevented further entry, and she toppled to the floor with the two corpses.

She felt one of the daggers heat up, and she knew that it had gone through an energy barrier. The illusion was still up, and she quickly made her clone get up above her and start running away from Selio, who had torn off his Triumvirate robes – revealing a slightly cracked nose, and eyes that were glowing with an ominous red glow. She remembered hearing somewhere that they called him “Battering Ram”, and whatever he’d done to deserve that name – she knew she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his blows. This was evident as he slammed his fists into the floor, exploding the marble slabs beneath them. She made her clone quicker and now it was dancing around him as he, unsuccessfully tried to pummel it to death. Her attention was focused on getting the two daggers out of the corpses. They buried deep and it wasn’t an easy task, getting a blade out from a dead body.

Her blood froze over as she heard a bestial growl echo from the far end of the room. Oh, fuck me. That stone was supposed to knock him out. She thought, as she finally managed to free both of her blades and get away from the corpses. She was moving again, and that was a good thing. She had The Lion and Battering Ram to deal with. The saving grace was that she was familiar with both of them and a strategy was already formulating in her head.

That is, it formulated in her head before the spectral Lion that was as tall as she was, streaked past her with blinding speed, slamming a paw into her side. She was thrown to the floor, crashing hard onto the marble slabs. Her vision almost faded to black – but somehow, she managed to hold onto her consciousness. She knew that her ribs were broken and that she was bleeding. The side of her coat and tunic was becoming warm and heavy from the blood that soaked into the fabric.

Somehow, she heaved herself up on her feet – using the nearby wall as support. She blinked once and realized that she had lost her grip on the illusions, and could see that Selio, Saheen’s spectral Lion and Saheen were all slowly closing in around her. Like predators. She could see the sack of rice, lying on the floor. The head illusion was gone as well.

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the piggy.” Selio said mockingly. Rhayne spat a mouthful of blood at his feet. He simply laughed.

“Did you really think that it would be THAT easy to worm your way into our ranks?” Saheen’s deep voice asked – rather disappointed. “You’re not the first Librarian who tried to infiltrate their way into the Triumvirate. And you certainly won’t be the last.”

“I almost made it, didn’t I?” she said, as her eyes ravenously swallowed the situation that was growing more dire for her with every passing moment. She was thinking of a way out. Her mentor once told her: “Whenever you find yourself in a tight situation – try to run away. If you can’t, then improvise until you find an opening. Remember, if you give up early, then you won’t ever find a way out – even though there is one. You just ought to look for it.”

“As if! You thought that’s how our initiation ceremonies look like? Secret gatherings, numbers of three, our symbol hanged everywhere? If the agents that Waylander sends after us are as stupid as you are then we will be able to take down the Librarian leadership in no time!” Saheen gloated.

“Boss, could I tear this piggy’s head off?” Selio asked.

“Sure, why not. Have your fun – but leave her face intact.” Saheen turned around and recalled his spectral Lion, as he started for the door.

It’s now or never, Rhayne. She took a deep breath, wincing in pain as her broken ribs moved when her lung expanded. She pulled on the flows once again – filling herself up to the point of breaking. Immediately she weaved a Mirror around herself and left a clone behind her. She made her clone run and jump up at Selio, as she threw herself underneath his legs, sliding between them and cutting at his tendons. She felt her daggers hit bone. The cuts were very deep. He screamed in pain as he toppled over to his knees. She created another clone of herself – making the two clones run at Saheen. He turned around to see why was Selio screaming, and was met with the sight of two Rhayne’s running towards him.

He immediately pulled on his magic, letting the spectral Lion out. That gave her enough time to circle around him, as the Lion focused itself on a clone. Saheen’s eyes were glowing, and she knew he was using Ruhric Sight to look for her. The spectral Lion stopped dead in its tracks – as Saheen realized that the clones were not her. But it was already too late. She came up to him behind his back.

“Over here” she whispered. Before he could turn around, she stabbed her dagger into his neck. The other one stabbed deep under his ribcage, and into his heart. His spectral Lion disappeared as he began to gurgle. She yanked her dagger forwards, slicing open his entire throat – blood splattering out on the marble floor. His body crumpled onto the ground, as his hands tried to convulsively grab onto his gaping throat. Unsuccessfully. They managed to reach up halfway before they just limply fell away to his sides, as he thrashed around – in his last death throes. Then he went completely still. “Don’t worry about Waylander’s agents. They’re more capable than you think. Thought. Whatever, it’s not important now.” She said as she stepped over his corpse, and walked over to the wailing Selio.

“I CAN’T FUCKING WALK! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?” he was screaming. She still had her Mirror around herself, so he couldn’t see her. She neared him and slashed his arm. He yelped in pain. “BITCH!”

Then she kept slashing. Arm. Leg. Torso. Neck. Arm. Torso. Leg. Torso. Back. Leg. Arm. She made a lot of small cuts, and every one drained his strength further. His insults eventually stopped, as all that was heard was pathetic screaming.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” he cried. “Show yourself…” he sniveled like a child, sobbing into the ground.

“What’s wrong, big guy? This is the second time I’ve put you down and you’re helpless. Again.” She said mockingly, causing her voice to ring out from all over the room, overwhelming him with her voice.

He shook. “Stop…please…”

“Look at me.” She stood next to his head. His eyes opened, red from the tears. His entire face was bloated from crying, as he was lying in his own pool of blood.

“W-what do you want?” he sniffed.

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what my Master wants. And he will get his answers, trust me.” She said simply.

“I can’t offer anything! I’m just a low ranked member! I don’t even like the Trium-“and his sudden pleas for mercy were cut short as Rhayne slammed her foot into his jaw, cracking bone. He immediately fell unconscious.

“Enough talk. You’ll have plenty of time to talk with people who actually care about what you have to say.” She wiped her daggers on his bloodied coat and sheathed them. Looking around the room, she couldn’t find any rope, so she used the Triumvirate flag – cutting it into strips. She used them to bandage her wounds, after which she tied Selio’s arms and legs. She dressed his wounds using her basic first aid knowledge. It was repulsive to her – but he was a necessary part of this whole thing. Killing him could destroy potential information and her Master would be very angry with her.

That meant being an Aspirant for a few more years and the very thought of that made her groan.

“Come in.” Jack Waylander, the Archmage of the Librarian Order and the Adviser of Emperor Uther Dawnbringer of Elderhearth, said after he heard three distinct knocks on the door.

The door creaked open, as a young woman limped in. She raised her hand to her chest and placed her fist on her heart. “Master.” She said.

“Rhayne. Welcome. Please, sit down. You’re hurt.” He got up and helped her to limp to a nearby chair. He poured some water in a cup, sprinkled some leaves from a herb bag on one of his shelves and in a second – there was steam rising from the top. He did all that, and perhaps even more – in mere seconds. Too fast for her. But she will understand how he does it, one day.

“News?” before he sat next to her, he walked around to his desk and took the cup he was already drinking from.

“I feel like shit and everything hurts. But I don’t have a sack of rice that looks like a human head in my closet and I killed three Librarians – so yeah. Nothing much.” She took a sip of the warm drink. It was pleasant.

“First of all – language. Second of all, they weren’t Librarians, they were traitors. And I do believe it was in self-defence, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yes. Good tea.” She slurped.

He looked at her for a brief moment, seeing through her lie. “Okay, well. Did you leave ANYTHING we could use?”

“There’s a guy tied up in a small room in the Hall of Arcana. Selio. I think they called him Battering Ram or something.” She said.

“I know of the mage.”

“I’d name him Dumb as Stump.”

“Lucky for us, it’s not up to you to give names to mages.”

Rhayne looked at Jack. She winced as she took a deep breath.

“Anyway, it was just another ordinary night. I fell down a lot of stairs because I’m clumsy and I got drunk during the weekday which is like, totally irresponsible from me – I know. I’m sorry.” She finished her tirade and took another sip of tea. “So by how much is my Aspirant status prolonged after my idiotic blunder?” she asked.

“I’m promoting you to full Librarian.” Jack told her.

She nearly choked on her tea. She coughed so much that Jack had to smack her on the back, in order to help her regain her composure. She blinked at him, her face looking as surprised as ever: “GET OUT OF HERE! REALLY?”

Jack sighed and smiled. “I’ll never be able to teach you manners, will I?”

“Not in a million years. Sir.” She smiled.

“Go rest. You’re off duty until you heal. I’ll need your full power for the next step.” He sat back at his desk.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Rhayne. One last thing.” He called out to her, as she was halfway out the door.

“Yes?”

“Since you were so irresponsible and got drunk on a weekday, you’re going to clean the Aspirant bathrooms. All of them.” And he waved her away. “Now you can go.”

She closed the door and took a deep breath. “That old bastard.” She smiled as she walked away from the office of Jack Waylander.