Chapter 7

Julian stepped into the classroom and immediately spotted Ethan Cooper. The usual seat near the back was empty; instead, Ethan had slumped into a desk right next to Caleb. He looked like a man who had spent the night being dragged through a swamp. His skin was a sickly, translucent grey, and his eyes were bloodshot. Beside him, Caleb sat rigid, looking between Ethan and the small fire drake curled on the desk. Julian adjusted his bag and took the seat directly behind them. "You've got a touch with that thing," Caleb muttered, glancing back at Julian. He gestured to the fire drake, which was currently quiet, though its tail flicked with agitation. "Every time I try to get it to settle, it nearly takes a finger off." The drake let out a sharp hiss and snapped its jaws at Caleb's reaching hand. Caleb pulled back with a huff, settling deeper into his chair. "See? Hateful little lizard." Julian ignored the drake and leaned forward, poking Ethan's shoulder. "You look like death, Ethan. What happened to you?" Ethan let out a low, rattling groan that seemed to vibrate through the desk. "I feel like it, too. Everything hurts. My hair hurts." He turned his head slowly, wincing at the movement. "It was that... that pile of bones." "The pile of bones?" Julian lowered his voice, his curiosity sharpening. "What are you talking about? Who—" The heavy click of heels on the stone floor cut him off. Stella Vance entered the room, her eyes sweeping over the students before landing squarely on Ethan's slumped form. She paused, her brow furrowing as she took in his pallor. "Mr. Cooper," Stella said, her voice direct and slightly agitated. "You look terrible. Is this a hangover? Because if you've brought that into my classroom—" "Not a hangover," Ethan protested, his voice cracking. He tried to sit up straight and failed, sliding back down. "I woke up like this. I thought... I thought it would pass. Just a bit of a bug." Stella crossed her arms, her gaze prodding. "And you thought the best place for a 'bug' was a crowded lecture hall? You're pale enough to be a ghost." Ethan offered a sheepish shrug that turned into a wince. "I didn't want to miss the review. Thought I could tough it out." "You're doing no such thing," Stella said firmly. "You're a distraction to the class and a misery to yourself. Go home, Mr. Cooper. Or better yet, go see a healer. Now." Julian saw his opening. He stood up, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. "I'll take him back to the dorms, Professor. He looks like he's about to pass out, and I'd rather not see him roll down the stairs." Ethan blinked up at him. "I can go home alone, Julian. I'm not five." "You can barely stay in your chair," Julian countered, already moving to haul Ethan up by the arm. "Besides, I've already heard this review twice. I'd rather walk a sick man across campus than sit through another hour of basic ward theory." Stella sighed, waving them off. "Fine. Just make sure he actually gets there, Mr. Hayes. Try not to lose him in a shrubbery." Julian steered Ethan out of the classroom, the heavy doors muffling the start of the lecture behind them. They didn't head for the dorms. Julian kept a firm grip on Ethan's sleeve, leading him toward the recently renovated cafeteria. The morning rush was over, leaving the hall mostly empty. Ethan didn't seem to care about the change in destination. As soon as they sat down, he began shoveling a plate of eggs into his mouth with a ferocity that defied his sickly appearance. "This is great," Ethan mumbled through a mouthful of toast. He looked amused, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. "Look at us. Skipping class. You're a regular rebel, Julian." "I'm not skipping," Julian pointed out, watching the food disappear. "I was officially excused by a teacher. My mother would be very clear on the distinction. If she thought I was actually truant, she'd send my sister after me, and no one wants a nine-year-old chasing them with a wooden spoon." Ethan made a sour face. "Don't tell me you're one of those social climbers, Julian. Always worried about the family name. And don't you dare try to set me up with your sister. I don't care how many piano players you have in the family." "She's nine, Ethan. Eat your eggs." Julian leaned in, his tone dropping the sarcasm. "Now, talk. Who roughed you up? You mentioned a pile of bones." Ethan huffed, looking away. "Nosy, aren't you? No one roughed me up. I'm fine." "You're not fine. You look like you've been through a meat grinder, and you're dropping hints that aren't exactly subtle. 'Pile of bones' usually implies something specific in our line of work." Ethan scoffed, waving a fork dismissively. "It was an alchemical accident. Weird fumes. I was messing around with a new set and things got... gaseous." Julian stared at him, unimpressed. "Spirit Weave exposure," he said loudly. Ethan jumped, his fork clattering against the plate. He stared at Julian, his eyes wide. Suddenly, he began gesticulating wildly, his voice rising to a shout. "That's it! That's exactly what it was! The lich... it didn't just hit me, it targeted my soul! That's why it's still here! It followed me back!" He realized he was shouting and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands as a few students at distant tables turned to stare. "We need to go," he whispered hoarsely. "The fountain. We can't talk here." "If you keep yelling about liches, the fountain won't be private enough," Julian warned, though he stood up. "You're such an ice cube, Hayes," Ethan grumbled, pushing himself away from the table. They made their way to the central courtyard, where the great stone fountain sprayed a fine mist into the air. The sound of rushing water provided a natural veil for their voices. Ethan leaned against the basin, looking at Julian with an intensity that replaced his previous exhaustion. "What do you know about time travel?" Ethan asked directly. Julian feigned a look of mild confusion. "Time travel? Like in those speculative fiction novels Willow reads? I think it's a bit far-fetched for a Monday morning." Ethan fumbled with his cuffs, looking nervous. "It's not. I... I'm a time traveler, Julian. I'm stuck in a loop. This month? I've lived it over and over." Julian leaned back, crossing his arms. "You look a bit young to be a chronomancer." "I know how it sounds," Ethan said, his words tumbling out. "But the world resets. Every time the Sunstone Festival night ends, everything goes back to the beginning of the month. And I remember. I'm the only one who remembers." He paused, his voice turning hollow. "I've lived through this month at least two hundred times." Julian felt a genuine prickle of alarm. "Two hundred? And you haven't stopped it? You can't stop it?" "I don't know if I can!" Ethan shouted, before quickly catching himself and lowering his voice. "I don't know! I was hit by a spell in the previous revert—the one right before this one. That's why I feel like this. The effects... they persisted. It shouldn't be possible, but here I am, feeling like my soul is being chewed on by a dog." "Spirit Weave," Julian muttered. "Yes," Ethan confirmed, his face twisting. "It hit my mind. It's like there are holes in my head. I can remember the loops, I can remember the fighting, but the very beginning? How this whole Temporal Loop started? It's gone. I don't remember." He looked at Julian, his expression turning defensive. "You don't believe me. You think I'm crazy." Julian exhaled slowly. "It's far-fetched, Ethan. Definitely the craziest thing I've heard all week. But I'm an open-minded person. Suppose I do believe you—what does any of this have to do with me?" Ethan looked at him incredulously. "Because you're different! You're not like your 'other self' from the other loops." "My other self?" Julian asked, his interest piqued. "The Julian I knew was... well, he died a lot," Ethan mumbled, then looked Julian in the eye. "He was irritable, arrogant, and usually the first one to get picked off in the opening skirmish. You? You're calmer. You're actually talking to me instead of sneering. You've changed." "Why would I change if the world resets?" Julian asked. "If I don't remember the loops, I should be the same every time, shouldn't I?" Ethan shrugged, looking puzzled himself. "I don't know. Maybe something bled through? Do you feel different lately? Have you been making... strange choices?" Julian looked at the water dancing in the fountain. "I do feel different. I've been making choices I wouldn't have considered a month ago. Joining the library staff, for one." He looked back at Ethan. "If you're really a time traveler, do you have any advice? Or maybe a secret spell of awesomeness you can share?" Ethan let out a dry laugh. "Most of my spells are combat-oriented. I've spent two hundred months learning how to break things. I need them to stop... something. There's an adversary. The one who messed me up." "The invasion?" Julian asked. "How did it happen?" Ethan grunted, his gaze turning dark. "I recall you dying early in the battle. Right at the start. And me? I was stupid. I charged in like a hero. I thought I was invulnerable. I've died so many times, Julian. I stopped being afraid of it because I always just wake up again on the first of the month." Julian felt a heavy sigh escape him. "Ethan, you're an idiot." Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?" "You think because you reset, you're safe? There are things far worse than death in the higher tiers of magic. Psionics can rewrite who you are. A geas can bind your will across lifetimes. There are soul-eating creatures—wraiths that won't care if the calendar restarts because they've already digested the part of you that remembers. There are magic-sealing methods that could trap you in a loop where you can't even cast a spark." Julian leaned closer. "You are not invulnerable. You're just lucky you haven't met something that knows how to hurt you permanently yet." Ethan paled visibly. He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "You... you actually care. And you believe me. I can tell." Julian shrugged, turning to walk away. "I'm not convinced. But for the sake of conversation, I'll pretend I am." The rest of the day was a blur of dodging questions from curious classmates and avoiding Olivia Stone's stern glares about his absence. As he walked through the halls of the Arcane Institute of Northwood, Julian's mind raced. Ethan's memory gaps were a problem, but the loop itself... it wasn't just a prison. He realized then that he didn't want to escape it—not yet. This was an opportunity. He had the library, he had his memories, and he had a world that refilled his meager savings every time it reset. He could become a great mage. He could master things that took others decades. His goals were clear: harass Ethan for combat tips, raid the library for every restricted spell he could find, and use his knowledge of the coming month to leverage his alchemy practice. After his final class, Julian sought out Owen. The combat magic teacher was packing up his materials, his large frame casting a long shadow over the training floor. "Mr. Hayes," Owen said, not looking up. "The class was dismissed ten minutes ago. Do you need something?" "The program is too easy," Julian said directly. "Arcane Bolt is a basic shaping exercise. It's pointless for what I need." Owen stopped and looked at him, his expression frank. "You lack the raw power for a battle mage, Julian. You can sharpen a bolt all you want, but you don't have the mana reserves to sustain a real engagement." "I know that," Julian admitted. "But can I improve them? Or can I make what I have more efficient?" Owen shook his head. "I wouldn't advise a career in combat magic for you. You have a natural disadvantage. Stick to theory or alchemy." "My point about the class stands," Julian insisted. "If I'm going to learn it, I want to learn the real version, not the version for children." Owen mulled this over, his eyes narrowing as he studied Julian's stance. He disappeared into a side office and returned a moment later holding a new Rune Rod, a thin booklet, and four ceramic plates. "Your reflexes are better than most," Owen admitted. "These plates are reinforced with a stabilization charm. Throw one." Julian took a plate and flung it into the air. Owen flicked a finger, and a bolt of force shattered the ceramic instantly. "Another," Owen snapped. Julian threw the second. Owen didn't even look; he fired a bolt that curved mid-air, striking the plate behind a practice dummy. "The last two. Together." Julian launched them in opposite directions. Owen's hands moved in a blur. Two missiles streaked out, one piercing the first plate cleanly, the other expanding into a shimmering net that crushed the second. "Arcane Bolt is versatile," Owen said, his voice level. "It can home, pierce, cut, or swarm. It can even be made invisible." "Invisible?" Julian asked. "I've never seen that." "If you can see the spell, it's because of magical leakage," Owen explained. "An imperfect casting. A perfect bolt is a silent, invisible distortion of force." Julian looked at his own hands. "So I'm just messing up the spell every time I cast it." "Exactly." Owen handed him the Rune Rod and the booklet. "Practice the variations. Read that cover to cover. Come back in two weeks and show me you haven't wasted my time." "I will," Julian said, his voice tight with excitement. "Dismissed," Owen gestured, turning back to his desk. Julian spent the evening at the library, the Rune Rod tucked into his belt. He was supposed to be working, but his mind kept drifting to the diagrams in Owen's booklet. "You've picked this up fast," Audrey Miller remarked, watching Julian sort a stack of returns into the complex filing system. "Most new assistants take weeks to understand the sub-sections." "I worked in a similar library before," Julian said, which was technically true, even if it was this exact library in a different timeline. Elara Finch looked up from her ledger, her smile energetic. "It's a standard system, Audrey. The Order of Archivists enforces it across all state libraries. It makes things much easier for those of us who actually have to find things." "I figured it was a holdover from the Ancient Accord," Julian guessed. Elara's eyes lit up, ready for a debate. "The Accord was never a state, Julian. It was a treaty. The Divided States inherited the administrative legacy, but the system we use now was perfected by the Dominion of Eldoria. They'll tell you their empire never ended, only shrank, but their filing system certainly conquered the world." Audrey stayed silent, looking between them as they spoke. "Julian! Are you in here?" Ethan's voice boomed through the quiet stacks. Julian sighed, leaning his head against a shelf. Ethan appeared around the corner, looking significantly better. The grey tint was gone, replaced by his usual exuberant glow. "Keep it down," Julian hissed. "This is a library, not a tavern. Are you alright?" "Never better!" Ethan said happily. "The 'bug' cleared right up. I'm starving. Let's go eat." "I'm working," Julian protested. Elara cleared her throat, whispering loudly. "We're almost done here anyway, Julian. Go on. Unless I'm interfering with a budding romance?" Julian ignored the comment and followed a grinning Ethan out of the building. Once they were outside on the stone steps, Julian stopped him. "Why did you come looking for me?" "Because you're the most interesting person I know," Ethan said simply. "And you believe me about the time travel. Well, you and Willow." Julian paused. "Willow believes you?" "She's imaginative," Ethan explained. "Open-minded. She didn't even blink when I told her. She just asked if it was like one of her mystery novels." "How many people have you tried to convince, Ethan?" Ethan began ticking them off on his fingers. "Let's see... half the third-year class, Professor Vance, the Headmaster, three city guards, and a very confused man at the train station." "And let me guess," Julian said. "None of them believed you." Ethan sighed. "Not a one. They all think I'm pulling a prank or I've had too much alchemical cider." "And your memory?" Julian asked carefully. "Still gaps?" Ethan's expression scowled. "Yeah. They're still there. It's not getting worse, but I still can't see the start of the loop. It's just... blank." Julian looked at him, his gaze direct. "Ethan, how did you achieve time travel magic? It's supposed to be impossible. And, no offense, but you weren't exactly known for your academic brilliance before this." "It's clearly not impossible if I'm doing it," Ethan countered. "But honestly? I don't know how I did it. It just... happened." "You expect me to believe you accidentally invented the most complex spell in history?" Ethan chuckled nervously. "When you put it like that, it sounds bad. I was pretty incompetent back then. But hey, I have good news for you." "What news?" Julian asked. "I heard you're learning combat magic. From Owen himself." Julian narrowed his eyes. "Where did you hear that?" "I have my ways," Ethan said, finishing with a flourish of his hand. "And since you're the only one who takes me seriously, I've decided to teach you myself. Consider it a reward." Julian stared at him, incredulous. "You? Teach me? Mages are the stingiest people on earth with their spells, and you're not exactly the picture of responsibility. How did you even get so good at combat magic?" "I didn't get 'good' by sitting in a classroom," Ethan said, his voice losing some of its playfulness. "I acquired my spells illegally. From sources that don't care about academy rules." He looked at Julian, his gaze steady. "It involves dying. A lot. But I can help you, Julian. If you're willing to learn the hard way." ════════════════════════════════════════