The scratching of a fountain pen against rough paper filled the library lounge reserved for two. Every so often, the rhythmic swish of something cutting through the air, followed by a dull thud against the wall, joined the sound.

  Alira flicked a card into the target, then sent a few more after it in quick succession. Who would’ve thought that the little party trick she’d picked up before would come in handy like this?

  Every card she threw was cast with Position Exchange just before it left her hand. Alira had been inspired by the chair trick Professor Daw had performed, right before Alira embarrassed herself in front of the entire auditorium.

  Her plan was to use coins and cards interchangeably, depending on the environment, to escape any fight she would rather not have. To do that, she just had to be able to basically spam Position Exchange, which was just a standard teleportation spell she’d seen in most games with a few extra steps.

  Alira slipped another card between her fingers, curling them just so as she bent her wrist at the right angle. She turned away from the target, now bristling with a dozen cards stuck to it, and Raine, who sat at a desk beside a window.

  She cast and flicked her wrist toward the wall next to him. The card shot through the air. Before it even came close to hitting the wall, Alira triggered the spell, and in an instant, she lurched forward—appearing where the card had been a heartbeat earlier. The card itself sailed past where she had stood moments ago and skidded to a stop on the floor behind her.

  “So?” Alira said, smacking Raine on his shoulder as a greeting. “Did you get a yes from him?”

  “Keep your hands off,” Raine said, biting on his words.

  “Of course, my good sir,” Alira retracted her hand, but not without swaying her tail just the right way to brush across his side. “Soo? Did he say he will make an exception for his favorite student?”

  A low grunt came from Raine. “No.”

  “What? Wait, but like, for real? You didn’t manage to get his permission? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of waiting until next semester?” Alira grumbled. “Have I told you that I’m like, kind of running out of time? Can’t you just cozy up to him a bit? He knows you’re capable.”

  “I didn’t manage to get a meeting with him at all.”

  Oh. Guess that’s to be expected...

  The Academy had been busy, so its headmaster wouldn’t be chilling in his office either. It had already been three days, but there was still no news of Lillian or the Retrievers. At least not one Alira had heard about.

  Worst was the fact that news about it had spread. A magical academy with students wielding abilities beyond nature meant gossip travelled every nook and cranny where mana existed. Though with every mouth it filtered through, the actual event had become far too distorted from the truth.

  Something about the disappearance of Lillian Orllel, known for her undisguised interest in Mr. R, and another thing about Alira Ravon receiving a ring from the previously mentioned Mr. R. Everyone, smarter than the next person, put on their detective hats and connected the ‘dots’.

  It was only in separate training rooms or private library lounges like here that Alira could escape from peering eyes and running mouths.

  As much as she disliked the not-so-fun attention she’d been receiving, at least it meant the Academy managed to keep the truth about Lillian’s being kidnapped. Being taken away from some Fellsworns would, no doubt, leave a stain on her reputation as a young noblewoman. The hatred for the cultists very often cast shadow on anyone mentioned alongside them—even if they were but victims.

  “Wait,” Raine said that and only that.

  Alira nodded somewhat reluctantly. It seemed he was planning to find another means to reach out to the alchemy society for information regarding the Trial without the help of the Academy. Even if he spoke with the headmaster, their chances were still slim. It was, after all, the Academy’s rule that students would be allowed to take their Trial after they finished their first semester at the earliest, which would ironically take at least three months or so.

  “What about her?” Alira asked. “Any leads?”

  “...No,” Raine said. “How about you? Suddenly not seeing anything anymore?”

  “I need more time,” Alira replied. She couldn’t use Acting Prophet until next Monday, and trying to use Narrate on Lillian, as she expected, wouldn’t work anymore. Just like that, they were back at the wordless standoff again.

  Alira was quiet for a while until she decided she didn’t like to just stand there, doing nothing. She had had enough of practicing her throw for today.

  “He’s attending the conference, you know,” she started. “He should be here soon.”

  Raine squinted his eyes just a bit, golden ripples stirring up in ire, and she knew he knew exactly who she was talking about.

  “I’ve been thinking...”

  “About what?” she urged. Thinking was a dangerous thing. If he thought too hard, he might just begin to think he didn’t really need her and decide to spend his time doing anything other than alchemy.

  “Why is he keeping you?”

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

  Oh. Of all things he could be asking... Alira was expecting him to ask about the cultists, the end of the world, or the truth of the universe, but no. Of course, not. He was instead far more interested in his father’s questionable activity.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said with a shrug. She thought about just going back to abusing her sore fingers with training, but her curiosity won over her. “You know I’m curious as well. What do you think about the fact that the world might very well come to an end soon? Because you don’t seem half as bothered as someone else would be about that.”

  Even before he’d seen for himself exactly what the Fellsworns of Mother were up to, his Role description and aspects already hinted at the destruction that awaited him. Even later on in the novel, when the cultists became more active, Raine’s main goal had never changed from revenge for his mother.

  Raine scoffed. “Another Staywes day with those men in charge.”

  “I guess only the Protagonist could sneer at the literal end of the world,” Alira laughed.

  “...you know too much,” Raine mumbled, not quite happily, at Alira mentioning his Role.

  That only made Alira’s smile wider. “Oh, I know more than just too much. My Role allows me to see many things, hoping it could help me prevent the end of the world, kind of. As if...”

  As if I’m going to do that. Alira was going to say, but the words got stuck at the back of her throat. What would Raine think if he knew she wasn’t going to do much in saving this world? Would he think she was just another coward?

  “I...” Alira blurted out without meaning to, and because she did, she had to continue. “I have something much, much more important to protect than Staywes.”

  Raine’s pen stilled for a moment before he continued working on the alchemic circle. “Same.”

  Same? Alira didn’t think so, but she didn’t get to argue when a knock came at the door, followed by Maria’s muffled voice.

  “Miss, do you have a moment?”

  Alira could only sigh. “Anyways, you focus on figuring out how we could take the Trial. I will try to see about Lillian soon.”

  She heard a hum from Raine on her way out. They should be taking the Trial soon.

  +++

  When Maria came to fetch her, Alira had mentally prepared herself to meet her newly obtained eccentric foster father for all the shenanigans she’d been up to. Instead, when she entered the guest room, an overworked man who most likely wasn’t getting paid enough greeted her.

  “My Lady, it has been a while,” Cion, the duke’s personal mage and first meat shield, welcomed her with a small bow of his head.

  Alira stared at him longer than she should, taking in the dark circles that would take a copious amount of concealer to hide. His skin looked less smooth than the last time she’d seen him. Alira guessed she was one of the reasons, but she hoped she wasn’t the main reason for the changes.

  “Yes, it has been a while, Sir Cion,” Alira said after she finished gawking to finally take a seat. “I thought His Grace was attending today. At least that was what Maria had told me before.”

  “His Grace did plan to, but unfortunately, something came up at the last minute,” Cion nodded. There was a brief pause. The next moment, a decisive look appeared on his face like he’d deemed that it was enough of pleasantries, getting on with his actual purpose. “How have you been, young miss? Has the Academy been treating you harshly? I’ve heard of everything that has happened. —Well... more than just hearing, actually.”

  Cion subconsciously reached out to his shoulder. He must have been quite surprised to randomly gain a hole in it when Alira was attacked by the cultist’s blood rod.

  Alira considered whether she should apologize to him or not. Then again, she was a victim in this case as well. The duke was the cause of all the suffering.

  “I’m alright now,” Alira said, deciding on getting this over with. “Thank you for your concern.” She guessed the duke had sent Cion to check up on her. The least she could do was relieve him of his duties faster.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Cion said with a faint, polite smile. The smile wavered a bit at the end as he sank back into silence.

  What’s this guy’s problem? Alira couldn’t guess what was making him so hesitant, and she didn’t have all day either. Well, actually, she had nothing planned for the rest of the day. Regardless, she wasn’t spending it with Cion.

  “Sir Cion, please,” Alira said.

  Cion exhaled with difficulty. “I’m sorry, Miss Ravon. His Grace said it didn’t matter if that’s what you want to do, but I believe it’s not a healthy way to handle your struggles. I may not understand your hardship, but—”

  “Wait, wait,” Alira interrupted. “I’m not quite following. What exactly is ‘it’ that I want to do again?”

  Cion opened his mouth only to close it before any word could come out. Looking down at his own clasped hands, he opened his lips again. “The burns and the cuts, young miss. Please forgive me if I’m overstepping, but harming yourself isn’t the solution. Very so frequently, too. Despite what His Grace had said, I couldn’t help but feel much concern for you. I’m worried this will only do more harm to you.”

  “...” Alira blinked once at him in stupor.

  What’s this guy on about? What burns? What cuts?!

  Alira admitted to being suicidal but only as a means of going back home, contrary to popular belief. She certainly hadn’t been doing anything that wouldn’t send her back to Earth.

  Just when she was about to politely retort, something clicked.

  “Xia.” Alira realized.

  { It’s a fine morning, sweetie. To hear my name so early in the morning is…something. }

  Look at this sly bastard acting stupid.

  Hollowed Mirror allowed Alira to use Xia’s abilities when the Bridge was raised, so long as he didn’t explicitly refuse. Of course, she couldn’t use what she didn’t know about. For instance, Xia’s Role and its Effects had never been disclosed in the novel, even to Raine, and thus Alira couldn’t take advantage of it.

  That meant Xia’s artifact allowed him to do the same. He must have heard about Alira’s ‘healing’ ability. And since she hadn’t said anything against it, he’d been abusing it to no end. No wonder poor Cion looked like his world was spinning from overwork.

  “Son of a—” Alira whispered.

  “Yes?” Cion asked.

  “Uh. I was saying Sorry,” Alira said. It was her turn to avoid eye contact in a fluster. “I’ve been troubling you.”

  Cion put his hands up, waving in a hurry. “No, no. I’m not troubled at all, so please, don’t apologize. I promise I’m only saying out of concern for your well-being. I know that what you’re going through is much more than what I can see.”

  Alira gave an awkward, breathless laugh. “Thank you for your concern, Sir Cion. And it won’t happen again. I plan to work things out,” Alira said. The last part was meant for the third party in this two-person conversation. She knew that person knew when a chuckle resounded.

  { Oops? }