29. Tristan: A Trip to the Library

  “You want access to Ireveus Academy’s library?” Ifrit asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

  Tristan kept his expression composed and his mind still.

  It was a technique he had trained for the past four years – emptying his thoughts completely, focusing only on the words he intended to say. No stray memories. No emotional hints. Just controlled, thought-of speech. With Ifrit, whose Mind Reading Magic could pierce through any lie or half-truth, it had become a necessity.

  At least until he could - secretly - obtain a highly refined taelium.

  But that, too, posed a problem – what level was Ifrit’s Cognition Thread in Mind Reading Magic? If it was three or more, it would be virtually impossible to obtain a taelium of matching refinement level to counter it. There were so little of them to begin with.

  “I feel that the knowledge I’m being taught isn’t enough, and Thread Reaving is only a cheap, imperfect alternative.” Tristan replied, his tone even. “If I want to have my own magic, I need access to more knowledge.”

  “And our estate’s library doesn’t satisfy that thirst for knowledge?” Ifrit asked, eyes narrowing on Tristan.

  “I’ve already read most of the books there.” Tristan answered honestly.

  “I see…” Ifrit rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We could always order more. We could even have the archivists from the Academy’s library loan us some of the books and scrolls for a sum. What is it you’re looking for, exactly?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Tristan replied, keeping it vague. “Something historical, I think.”

  “You think?” Ifrit repeated, voice quiet, but at the same time testing.

  Tristan didn’t flinch. “I won’t know until I begin reading. Either way, it has to be something different from what I've read up to this point.”

  “A peculiar reply from a peculiar child.” Ifrit muttered, half to himself. His expression was neutral, and Tristan fought his hardest not to appreciate the man’s poker face in his thoughts.

  Then Ifrit shrugged. “But it’s progress.”

  Tristan had no idea what that meant.

  Ifrit turned to Tristan, his red eyes gleaming. “Very well. You’ll have access, but I expect you to inform me what knowledge it was that caught your attention.”

  Tristan nodded, satisfied with such swift negotiations. “Of course, Father.”

  But then, before he could leave, Ifrit called after him. “Rose will accompany you.”

  Tristan smiled internally. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  ***

  “Explain again why I had to leave the sword behind?” Rosalina asked as they made their way through the crowded streets of Dalina’s Academica district – the intellectual heart of the capital and home to some of the most prestigious institutions in all of Stulan, including, but not only: The Royal Institute of Logic and Mathematics – where mathematicians, strategists, accountants, and economists were trained, The Stulan Academy of Art and History – an establishment dedicated to the study of history and art, and the Dayton School of Political Science – where future diplomats, bureaucrats, and different nobles studied the craft of ruling and civics.

  And of course, nestled deeper within the district, stood the world-renowned Ireveus Academy of Arcane Arts.

  Students of all ages walked around them, carrying books, scrolls, and even art supplies. Some of them walked calmly, sharing laughs with their friends. While others seemed to be in a rush – perhaps late to a lecture.

  “Because we’re not here to bully magic scholars.” Tristan replied dryly. “Also, your great sword would’ve freaked them out, and they probably wouldn’t have let us in. I’m pretty sure this place is weapons-free.”

  “One word from Ifrit and they’d give us an exception. He already managed to give us access to the library without us passing any of the requirements.” Rosalina shot back, her tone casual as she buried her hands in the pockets of her cropped leather jacket.

  “Maybe,” Tristan admitted, "but I didn't want to draw attention.”

  “Really?” Rosalina raised an eyebrow. “And walking with a one-eyed pirate won’t draw attention?”

  Tristan chuckled despite himself. She’d started making jokes more often lately. Little ones. Bad ones. But they were jokes nonetheless. A soft and welcomed shift from this ever-professional bodyguard of his.

  “Nice joke, Rosie.”

  She rolled her eye and kicked him lightly on the backside. “Stop calling me Rosie already.”

  “Treat this like a family trip.” Tristan continued teasing. “Remember our cover story? You’re my mom, and you’ve decided to take me to library.”

  Her face twisted in confusion. “What? We have a cover story? First time I’m hearing of it…”

  “We do now.” Tristan nodded. “Either way, I’m surprised that was the first thing that bothered you out of everything I just said.”

  “Yeah, I just decided to ignore the other part. You always tell me to mute you out when you’re muttering nonsense to yourself.” Rosalina replied, looking smug.

  “Fair enough.” Tristan said, recalling he did tell her that.

  They continued the rest of the way silently.

  Rosalina sighed often. She didn’t say anything, but the weight of it was clear – eight years as Tristan’s guardian, and the only end in sight was the day he replaced Ifrit himself – which considering Ifrit’s seemingly non-aging body, seemed eons away.

  “We’re here.” She said, pointing ahead.

  Tristan followed her finger to a massive structure ahead. It stood tall, built of white stone which gave it an almost shiny appearance under the noon sun. Thick marble pillars surrounded it, and between them, tall black metallic bars created a fearsome fence.

  Dozens of visitors passed in and out through the mighty wooden oak doors which at this time of day stood wide open.

  “That’s it?” Tristan asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought the famous academy would be way bigger.”

  Rosalina snorted. “It’s just the library, dumbass. We’ve been on academy grounds for the past ten minutes.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Tristan blinked. “…Oh.”

  He found it odd there were no signs around to indicate they entered the academy.

  ‘It still doesn’t look that big for a library. I saw bigger ones on Earth.’ He thought.

  He cleared his throat, unable to resist a tease. “You know, calling a ten-year-old dumbass is pretty harsh.”

  Rosalina clicked her tongue. “Maybe. But you’re not ten. At least, not the way I see it.”

  “Really? How do you see it, then?” Tristan asked, growing curious. It would be ironic – funny, even – if out of everyone, Rosalina was the one to guess the truth: that he was a soul reborn, carrying the memory of eighteen years from another world.

  Rosalina exhaled, not making eye contact, sounding oddly reminiscent.

  “When you were four, you acted like you were eight. At six, you carried yourself like a teenager. And now that you’re ten…you feel like you’re eighteen. Honestly, if I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a really committed midget trying to pass as a kid.”

  Tristan’s eyes widened. ‘Another joke?!’ He stared at her, mock horrified. ‘Who are you and what did you do with the real Rosalina?!’

  “You’re as soft as a marshmallow, Rosie.” He teased, sticking out his tongue and blowing a raspberry at her.

  Rosalina rolled her one eye, her expression deadpan. “I’m going to kill you one of these days.”

  Tristan smirked. “Better do it quick before I grow taller than you.”

  “Haha.” She sighed theatrically, her eyes narrowing as she recalled something. “Wait, what the hell is a marshmallow?!”

  ***

  Once they reached the library’s entrance and stepped through the large wooden doors clearly designed for giants, they entered a cavernous, richly lit, crowded hall.

  At the far end of it stood a curved counter carved from grey stone, its surface reflecting the lights of the many chandeliers above. Behind it, stood six librarians, each dressed in a dark blue robe and a white sash.

  Long lines of people formed before each of the librarians as they worked diligently to help each person and progress the line quicker. They accepted back returned tomes and scrolls – stashing them inside a wheeled crate behind them, they argued and scolded those whose return date was overdue. They also scribbled some notes before pointing some of the visitors toward a set of wooden doors to their left – the entrance to the library itself.

  Surprisingly, despite the amount of people inside, it was relatively quiet.

  “Which one of the librarians do we need?” Tristan asked quietly, scanning the figures behind the counter. Rosalina was the one who’d been briefed by Adaranth – Ifrit’s newly appointed right hand man – about how they’d gain access. Something about bribery and a specific contact.

  “We’re looking for a girl.” Rosalina replied in a hushed voice. “Short brown hair. Thin as a stick – Adaranth’s words, not mine.”

  Tristan frowned. “I don’t see a girl there. Did he give you a name at least?”

  “Viki Holmes.” Rosalina replied.

  “We should ask one of them about her.” Tristan suggested.

  “On it.” Rosalina nodded and stepped casually out of line, approaching the counter with confidence.

  The reaction was immediate. You can always trust Dalina’s residents to lack any semblance of patience.

  “Hey! There’s a line!” Someone called from another queue.

  “Back off and wait like everyone!” Another snapped. “You’re not the only one here.”

  Rosalina narrowed her eye, irritated. “I’m not here to cut – just need to ask a damn question.”

  “We’re all here to ask questions!” A woman growled from behind the nearest line. “Get in line like the rest of us!”

  The tension spread like wildfire. More heads turned. And even the librarians eyed Rosalina with questioning eyes, one of them muttering something that sounded like “Dirty Ostian.”

  Tristan, noticing the growing anger in Rosalina’s gaze, subtly raised a hand and gave her a small wave, signaling her to fall back. His plan had worked better than expected.

  Actively searching for Viki might’ve drawn unwanted attention. But causing a small, harmless scene like this – one which the librarians likely see once an hour at least, given Dalina’s residents – would just draw Viki’s attention to them instead.

  Rosalina returned to his side, exhaling sharply through her nose. “I was this close to breaking that librarian’s jaw.”

  “Then it’s good I called you back.” Tristan said. “Anyways, you did a good job.”

  “Hm?” She raised an eyebrow, confused.

  “She should already know we would be coming at this hour, right? I’m sure Viki will show up on her own now.”

  And not a half minute later, she did.

  A woman approached hesitantly, matching the description perfectly – short brown hair, thin face, nervous eyes. She glanced around constantly, clearly uncomfortable in her own skin.

  “I…I assume you’re the one I need to smuggle inside?” She addressed Rosalina, her expression nervous.

  “Yes – “

  “Yes.” Tristan interrupted, stepping forward with the kind of authority a ten-year-old kid shouldn’t have. His red eyes met hers, calm but intense. “Show us in.”

  Viki blinked, startled by the shift in the atmosphere – and by the boy’s voice and intensity. She swallowed hard, afraid to ask any more questions, nodding quickly.

  Without another word, she glanced around, turned her back to them, and gestured for them to follow.

  They did, following her through the wooden doors to the left of the counter.

  Inside, two Peacekeepers stood guard – stern and motionless. They allowed entry only after visitors surrendered any weapons they carried.

  Viki, to Tristan’s surprise, nodded at one of them as she approached, clearly knowing him personally based on his smile.

  And so, they passed smoothly. No body checks. No questions.

  They passed through another set of heavy wooden doors, and as they opened, the true scale of the library revealed itself – immediately answering Tristan’s earlier doubts.

  The library was built downward.

  A stone balcony led to a wide railing that curved in both directions, circling the enormous inner drop. And down below – floor after floor spiraled downward into the depths of Terra, each level lined with bookshelves, reading tables, lanterns, and scholars and visitors moving around quietly. The lowest floor was lost in darkness, making Tristan wonder what the actual depth of this place was.

  The air was also colder here, dry and heavy with the scent of old parchment, ink, and lavender – a possible alchemical substance to ward off rot.

  “Watch out.” Rosalina said, grabbing Tristan’s shoulder and tugging him back from the ledge before he leaned too far.

  Viki cleared her throat, still looking just as nervous as before. “S-so, it wasn’t exactly clear which section you wanted to visit. So if you could please tell me, I’ll take you there…”

  Rosalina glanced at Tristan. “Well, Little Devil? What did you have in mind?”

  Tristan hesitated. The scope of the library was overwhelming. It would take him forever to find information about Gartan if he went about it conventionally.

  ‘History? Theology? Lost mythology’ He wondered where to start.

  Before he could decide, a voice called out from behind Viki.

  “Viki!”

  Tristan looked past the librarian and saw a young woman jogging up the stairs toward them. She was short, her rich black hair reaching all the way down to her knees, and a green cape billowed behind her. Her face was radiant – the type to spread energy and positivity wherever she went.

  She was beautiful, and Tristan swore his heart skipped a beat.

  “Azmira, I told you not to shout in here!” Viki whisper-screamed, glancing around nervously.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Azmira whispered back. “But you were suddenly gone so I got nervous.”

  She climbed the last few steps and only then seemed to notice Rosalina and Tristan.

  “Oh! Sorry – I didn’t see you there.”

  “I apologize for my friend’s rudeness.” Viki said quickly, bowing her head to them, then turned to Azmira. “I’m with people right now. I’ll come later.”

  “But you promised me you’ll – “

  Viki’s hand shot out, clamping over Azmira’s mouth. “Later, Azmira! Later!”

  Azmira swatted her hand away, clearly unbothered. “Relax, Vik. I wasn’t going to say anything weird.”

  Tristan grew curious. Perhaps it was fate. Or maybe seeing Azmira got him slightly excited. Either way, he decided to press a little.

  He cleared his throat, not aggressively – but loud enough to remind them they were still there.

  Then, he turned to Azmira with a calm, curious tone. “What was Viki supposed to help you with?”

  Azmira blinked, clearly not expecting the question to come from a ten-year-old with so much poise. “Huh? Why do you care, kid?”

  Tristan smiled politely. “People tend to shout names across grand libraries when they’re anxious. It makes me wonder what it is you were looking for that required to do that.”

  Azmira narrowed her eyes slightly but grinned. “And that’s your business because…?”

  “Oh, it isn’t.” Tristan said casually, then glanced at Viki. “But I mean, we’re clearly sharing the same guide, and I’d hate to think we came at a bad time – right before you uncovered greatness.” He turned to Viki. “Well?”

  Viki glanced between Tristan and Rosalina, her shoulders tensed. She stopped at Rosalina. “It – it wasn’t part of the – “

  Rosalina silenced her by raising an index finger, then gesturing with it toward Tristan. “Not me. Talk to him.”

  Tristan grinned, his red eyes intimidating her. “Part of what, Viki?”

  Azmira glanced between them, confused. “Vik, is everything – “

  “She was hoping to get into the Classified Wing.” Viki cut her off, spilling the beans. "But please keep this a secret. It has nothing to do with our agreement!"

  Azmira’s eyes widened. “You said we shouldn’t talk about it!”

  “That sounds exactly like what I was looking for.” Tristan exclaimed, feeling excited by the name of it - The Classified Wing.

  “I think we should all go together.” He said.

  Rosalina gave Tristan a sideways glance – impressed, confused, maybe both.

  Viki stared at him, shocked. She swallowed hard, glancing at Azmira with pleading eyes, before turning back to Tristan.

  “…Fine.” She mumbled, glancing around as if the walls were listening. “But if anyone catches you, you don’t know me!”