Chapter 9

"Ancient Tongue," Julian intoned, his voice low and steady as he completed the final gesture of the Scrying spell. He stood in the center of the Northwood College of Magic library, watching as the mana bled out from his fingertips in thin, luminous threads. The spell felt different this time—smoother, more responsive. In his previous lives, he had struggled with the specific density of the library's ambient mana, but now the threads moved with an instinctual grace. They wove through the towering shelves, slipping between leather-bound spines like glowing serpents. The feedback hummed in his mind. Seven books. The threads latched onto specific titles across three different floors, pulsing with a soft gold light that only he could see. He reflected on the mechanic; normally, a Scrying of this complexity would require a focus or a lengthy chant, yet his proficiency was outstripping his own expectations. The loop was refining his casting into something dangerously efficient. He walked toward the history section, his boots muffled by the thick rugs. He pulled a heavy volume titled *A Comprehensive History of Miroslav* from the shelf. Laying it flat on a reading desk, he cast a localized Scrying. "Ancient Tongue," he whispered again. The pages flipped rapidly, driven by an invisible wind, before slamming shut on a specific chapter. He reopened it to find the text glowing. Every mention of the language or the cultures that shared the continent with the Aethelians was highlighted in a sharp, crystalline blue. He began to skim, looking for any link to the necromantic rites used by the lich. A shadow fell over the page. Julian looked up to find Audrey Miller standing by the end of the mahogany desk. She was hunched over, her shoulders drawn tight, clutching a stack of ledger papers to her chest. A large, angry purple splotch crawled up the side of her neck and bloomed across her left cheek. Julian closed the book. He knew that rash. It was the signature mark of a purple creeper, a plant that was as irritating as it was difficult to wash off. "You wouldn't happen to go into the same class as my brother, would you?" Julian asked. His voice was hesitant, already anticipating the answer. Audrey flinched slightly, her eyes widening. "How did you know?" "Brother dearest came to me earlier today," Julian said, leaning back. He could picture Garrett's smug face, likely having pushed her into the patch as a mindless prank. "He mentioned… an accident." Audrey looked down at her shoes, her voice coming out quietly. "That's alright. I shouldn't have been standing so close to the garden edge." "No, it's not," Julian countered. He stood up, shoving the history book back into its slot. Garrett's laziness was one thing, but leaving a girl to walk around the library with a magical rash was another. "I'll just have to stop by my room to pick up the ingredients. I can make a salve for that." Audrey's head snapped up. "I'd like to come with you," she said, her tone hesitant but determined. "I want to see how the cure is made. The infirmary said it would take three days to fade on its own." Julian shrugged. "If you want. Just don't expect a formal workshop." They walked in silence out of the library and toward the student residences. When they reached Julian's apartment, the door was already ajar. Inside, Ethan Cooper was slumped in a chair, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he practiced a pen-spinning exercise Julian had shown him. The pen blurred between his fingers, a testament to his high mana control. "Hello, Ethan," Julian said, stepping inside. Ethan's head snapped up. "Yeah." He stopped the pen mid-spin and looked at Audrey, his eyebrows shooting up. "Am I interrupting something?" "I just came to grab some alchemical supplies," Julian said, heading for his storage trunk. Ethan stood up, his gaze flitting to the purple rash on Audrey's face. "What are you making? A neutralizer for purple creeper?" "Is there anything you're not good at?" Julian snorted, pulling out a bundle of dried herbs and a small mortar. Ethan didn't smile. He looked at Audrey, then back at Julian. "Man, I didn't know your brother is such a jerk. Pushing someone into a creeper patch? That's low-tier, even for a noble." "He's not a jerk!" Audrey protested, her face flushing a deeper shade of violet. "It was just… a misunderstanding." "He should have fixed it, though," Ethan insisted, crossing his arms. "Leaving it to Julian is just lazy." Audrey shook her head firmly. "Nobody forced Julian to do anything. He offered." Julian caught Ethan's eye and gave a small nod of dismissal. "Right. Let's get moving." As they headed back out, Ethan fell into step beside them. "Why are we going towards the academy proper?" "So I can access the alchemical workshop, of course," Julian said. "I need a proper burner and a glass condenser if I want the salve to work within an hour." "But all the workshops are closed this late in the evening," Ethan remarked. "He's right!" Audrey exclaimed, looking at the darkened windows of the administrative wing. "The doors are warded after seven." "It won't be a problem," Julian assured them. They reached the heavy oak doors of the secondary alchemical lab. Ethan pointed at the iron plate embedded in the wood. "But the door is locked. And warded." Julian sighed, stepping up to the plate. "Not to magic, it isn't." "You know unlocking spells?" Ethan asked, his voice laced with genuine surprise. "Those aren't in the standard curriculum until year four." "No, I don't," Julian said. He pressed his palm flat against the cold metal of the lock mechanism. "I'll just manipulate the tumblers telekinetically." He closed his eyes, sending a needle-thin probe of mana into the keyhole. He felt the internal pins—six of them, heavy and brass. With a series of minute, rhythmic pulses, he lifted each pin, feeling for the shear line. The wards hummed, sensing the intrusion, but Julian's mana was too subtle, too precise to trigger the alarm. A soft *clack* echoed in the hallway. Julian turned the handle and pushed the door open. "Wow," Ethan said, staring at Julian's hand. "You can open a lock just by pressing your hand against it for a few seconds! I've seen masters take longer with a skeleton key." "It's a lot more complicated than that," Julian said with a sour look, stepping into the dark lab. He moved with practiced ease, lighting a single localized globe of light. He set the mortar on a stone workbench and began grinding the ingredients. "Aren't those purple creeper leaves?" Audrey asked, leaning over the table. "Yes," Julian confirmed. "The best way to neutralize the toxin is to use a concentrated base made from the plant's own leaves, harvested before the bloom. Like cures like, if you know how to strip the oils." Ethan watched for a moment, then waved a hand. A shimmering, translucent pane appeared in the air in front of Audrey—an illusionary mirror. "Here, so you can see where to apply it." As Audrey began to dab the finished paste onto her skin, Ethan caught Julian's sleeve and pulled him toward the back of the room, near the rows of Saint Bug shells used for armor experiments. "So? What is it?" Julian prompted, seeing the sudden gravity in Ethan's expression. Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain silver ring. He pressed it into Julian's palm. "It's a Spell Matrix." Julian looked at the engravings on the inner band. They were incredibly dense, shimmering with a faint internal light. "Magic missile?" "That, plus Aegis and flamethrower," Ethan said. Julian ran his thumb over the metal. A ring like this, capable of holding three distinct combat matrices without a Rune Rod, was a feat of high-level enchanting. "Must have been pretty expensive." Ethan gave a quick, lopsided grin. "Made it myself, actually." Julian looked up, his suspicion sharpening. "Why do I get the feeling I'll be needing this in the near future?" Ethan's grin faded. He looked toward the door, his voice becoming subdued. "You never know when an angry troll might get a jump on you or something. Things get… messy." "What's so important about the dance, anyway?" Julian huffed, glancing at the ring. "Everyone's acting like the Sunstone Festival is the end of the world." Ethan sighed, a heavy, tired sound that didn't belong on a teenager's face. "You have to see it to believe it. Just... try to survive, okay?" Before Julian could press him further, Ethan's posture snapped back to his usual exuberant self. "Wow, Julian, I'm sure glad we've had this talk but I should really get going now! Practice calls!" He vanished out the lab door before the sentence had fully finished. Julian stood in the silence for a moment, the silver ring heavy in his hand. He slipped it onto his finger. He turned back to Audrey, who was wiping the last of the purple residue from her face. The skin underneath was clear and pale again. "Well, I guess we should go too," Julian said. Audrey didn't move. She was staring into the fading illusionary mirror, her expression downcast. "What's wrong?" Julian asked. "Err, nothing's wrong," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. Julian walked over to the bench, beginning to pack away the mortar. "You don't seem very happy to be cured." Audrey bit her lip. "I don't have anyone to go to the dance with." Julian stopped. He realized, with a sinking feeling, exactly where this conversation was heading. He had walked right into it. "Then you'll just have to do the same thing I will and go to the dance all by yourself, won't you?" Julian said, trying to keep his voice flat and clinical. Audrey looked at him, her eyes appraising and suddenly hopeful. "You don't have anyone to go with, either?" ════════════════════════════════════════