Chapter Sixty-Four: Mostly Harmless Prophecies by Rita Nutkins

  The next morning, the gang gathered in the library.

  Mount Olympus University’s library wasn’t just a place to find books—it was a symphony of light and shadow, where sunbeams filtered through arched windows and spilled onto marble floors like secrets itching to be told. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light, and the air buzzed with the quiet hum of ancient knowledge waiting to be plucked.

  Jace stood at the head of the table, hands clasped tight, his knuckles white. They all leaned in, elbows resting on polished wood as they listened. He took his time explaining what happened with Sophie and the demon. No one rushed him or brushed it off, treating it like some random quest in a game. Maybe another group would have. But not them.

  Sophie was real to him. What happened to her wasn’t some fleeting game mechanic—it left scars, ones deeper than he knew. The weight of it hung in the air, thick and unmoving.

  Ell listened intently. Alice had the slightest hint of worry in her eyes.

  Dex broke the silence first, his hand landing on Jace’s shoulder. “That’s rough, man,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Really rough. Glad you made it out. And... glad you were there for her, at the end.”

  Jace looked away, blinking rapidly as a tear threatened to betray him. He bit back a smile, not entirely sure if it was relief or just exhaustion that was winning out.

  Ell, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally stirred. “Where’s Thistle, anyway?” she asked, twirling a loose thread from her sleeve. “Haven’t seen him since the duel with Marcus.”

  Jace frowned. “Neither have I. Anyone?”

  Alice spoke up, her voice hesitant. “I saw him. In the shopping district, outside Spellbound, the tomes and scrolls shop. I tried to say hi, but... he ignored me. Like, fully pretended I didn’t exist.”

  “What?” Dex’s brow furrowed. “Who does that?”

  “Thistle, apparently,” Alice sighed. “He was with a group of other students. I didn’t recognize any of them. I wouldn’t have even known they were students except for their robes.”

  “Hope he’s okay,” Dex said, his usual bravado dimming. This time, it was Jace who placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Sometimes people need space,” Jace offered. “We’re all adjusting. Some of us better than others.”

  Dex nodded, though the worry didn’t quite leave his eyes.

  Talk shifted to lighter things—classes, new spells, Dex’s latest obsession with combo moves that would “totally revolutionize PvP.” Things were almost pleasant, until they heard the yelling.

  It came from a few aisles over, loud and angry, like a thunderstorm had suddenly rolled into the serene cathedral of knowledge. The group exchanged glances, then slowly, in what could only be described as a comical shuffle, they made their way toward the noise.

  And there, causing the scene, was Marcus.

  But this wasn’t the Marcus they knew. Gone was the peacock with his immaculate robes and jeweled arrogance. His skin was sallow, almost grey, like he hadn’t seen daylight in weeks. The robes he wore now were dull, drab—brown and grey, as if all the color had drained from him, body and soul. No jewelry. No flair. Just a ghost of the man he once was.

  “Unhand me!” Marcus’s voice cracked, wild and unhinged. “Do you know who I am? You’ll regret this—you’ll all regret this!” He stormed past them, shooting a glare their way but not stopping. If anything, the look he gave them was empty. Hollow.

  They let him pass without comment, waiting until he disappeared from sight.

  “What the hell was that about?” Ell muttered, her usual sharpness blunted by concern.

  Jace turned his attention to the junior librarian Marcus had been yelling at. She stood there, trembling, clutching a dusty tome to her chest like it might shield her from whatever storm had just swept through. Her eyes were wide, rimmed with tears she was desperately trying to hold back.

  Jace approached her gently. “You okay?”

  She sniffed and nodded, though it was clearly a lie. “He wanted... a Banished Book. From the upper levels. But I couldn’t give it to him. He—he tried to take it.”

  “And the book?” Alice asked, stepping closer, her voice soft with concern. “What was it?”

  The librarian shook her head, glancing nervously at the book in her arms. “I can’t tell you that. Even the name is dangerous. Names... Names have power. How Marcus knew to call it... that’s what scares me. If I hadn’t been here, he might’ve...”

  She shivered, clutching the tome tighter. “We’ll have to change all the incantation bindings now. I don’t know how he figured it out, but we can’t risk it.”

  Ell and Alice exchanged glances, their minds clearly spinning with possibilities. When they returned to the table, the group commiserated, talking about how much of an ass Marcus was.

  Dex groaned. “I just wish we knew what book he was after.”

  “We do,” Ell said, leaning back with a sly grin.

  Jace blinked. “Wait, what?”

  Alice shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “We might’ve... peeked.”

  “You devils,” Dex said, but there was no heat in his words.

  “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it,” Ell shot back. “Besides, if Marcus is after Banished Magic, especially now, we need to know what he’s up to. I hate deceiving that poor junior librarian, but this is bigger than her.”

  “So, what’s the book?” Jace asked, leaning in.

  Alice’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Umbra Maleficarum. Book of Demons.”

  Dex’s eyebrows shot up. “And they keep books like that here?”

  “They keep everything here,” Alice replied, leading them to the book-summoning pedestal. The magical search engine flared to life, its tendrils of light unfurling like luminous serpents, reaching for knowledge from the depths of the library’s endless archives.

  Jace’s gut twisted as the pedestal hummed with ancient power. Whatever Marcus was up to, it wasn’t good.

  Alice focused, her blue eyes catching the soft glow of the swirling lights around them. Each movement was deliberate -graceful- as though she was performing some ancient ritual. The books responded, slipping from their places like leaves caught in an invisible breeze, one in particular drifting toward them, leather-bound and shadowy.

  It landed softly, pages fluttering open on their own. “Here,” Alice whispered, the word more of an incantation than a statement. Jace’s gaze followed hers to the book, which seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive. The strange, multicolored script on the page shimmered, shifting between hues of gold, sapphire, and emerald.

  Jace leaned in, his voice barely a breath. “What’s it say?”

  Alice looked up, blinking, surprised. “You can’t read it?”

  They all stared at her, waiting for the punchline.

  “Right,” she sighed. “I forgot—none of you picked up Ethereal. This,” she motioned to the page, her fingers tracing the glowing script, “is clear as day to me.”

  Her finger stopped on a line where the golden ink bled into sapphire. “It says there are twenty great libraries of Terra Mythica. Each one holds a fragment of the universe itself. Together, they form the essence of all that is, bound by sacred crystals and stones.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Like the hearthstone that wards off the monsters from the university,” Ell chimed in.

  “Exactly,” Alice continued, her voice reverent. “Each library is linked to the others, keepers of hidden knowledge. No book is ever truly banished, just stored in different sections. Any book that enters a library is carved into the hearthstone and recorded forever. Not even the greatest mages can destroy it or erase it. And no one has ever broken a hearthstone… though some have tried.”

  She flipped to an illustration of a massive crystal, vibrant and alive with energy, its facets glowing like a Shard. They all recognized it immediately, even without Alice’s explanation.

  “From what I can tell,” Alice said, almost to herself, “the libraries hold the source code of Terra Mythica. You know how when you check out a book, you never get the original? Just a copy?”

  They blinked at her. Alice looked around, incredulous. “Seriously? You do check out books, right? Please tell me I’m not the only one who uses the library.”

  Silence. Even the lights above seemed to dim slightly, as if sharing her exasperation.

  “Anyway,” Alice went on, shaking her head, “you get a copy, not the original. The originals are all stored in the heartstone, like a… read-only version of the universe’s DNA.”

  Dex’s hand shot up, mock-innocent. “So, if I check a book out and rip it up, it doesn’t matter?”

  Alice turned to him, her stare cold enough to freeze sunlight. “I suppose not. But what kind of heathen would do that?”

  Dex shrugged, utterly unfazed. “Hey, just asking.”

  Jace’s attention was drawn to another part of the page, where golden swirls encircled a cluster of six distinct colors—sapphire, ruby, amber, emerald, amethyst, and moonstone, all intertwined. “What about this section?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

  Alice’s expression softened, her voice dropping as though sharing a secret. “That? It’s a prophecy, yeah, but it’s more than that. The prophecy itself is intriguing, sure—but the author? Even more fascinating.”

  She leaned closer, her voice dropping as if the very walls might be listening.

  “Supposedly, it’s from a book called The Mostly Harmless Prophecies by someone named Rita Nutkins, Citizen of Terra Mythica. But honestly, I think the name’s a joke. I’ve never been able to find a single copy of it, though I see quotes from her work in other books all the time.”

  “So, what does it say?” Jace asked, feeling the air in the room grow heavy, electric.

  Alice hesitated for just a moment before reading aloud, her voice steady and slow.

  “From the Infinite Potential,

  A Word of Power was Spoken,

  Its Aether’s boundless force,

  The Prismata Stone was Broken.

  And thus the Shards were born,

  Stars scattered through the night,

  Cast down upon man and myth,

  To carry on the fight.

  A Sapphire for the Scholars’ eyes, quick of wit and mind,

  A Ruby for the Warriors’ might, boldest of their kind,

  An Emerald for the cunning tongued and Politically inclined,

  Amber for the Healers’ touch, soothing hearts and mind,

  Amethyst for the Sages wise, their protections intertwined,

  Moonstones for the Shadow caste, lost in twilight’s bind.

  Together they are the Prismata,

  A single blinding light,

  Guided by the great Aether,

  To end the endless night.”

  They all sat there, silent for a moment, the weight of Alice’s revelation hanging in the air like an unfinished melody.

  “We need that book Marcus was after,” Ell broke the silence, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of the hunt. “If we don’t know what we’re dealing with, we’re sitting ducks.”

  Jace and Dex exchanged a look—equal parts doubt and weariness.

  “And how exactly do we get it?” Jace asked. “It’s Banished.”

  “We could just report this,” Dex said, his voice low but insistent. “We don’t have to handle everything ourselves, you know.”

  Alice raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Says the guy who always claims to be the rebel of the group.”

  “I am the rebel,” Dex shot back, defensively, “but this? This is so far out of our pay grade I’m getting altitude sickness.”

  Ell leaned in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “And who exactly are we gonna tell? If possessions are happening, anyone could be compromised.”

  Alice nodded. “Dex, I’ve been getting quest notes from my deity. One of them said not to trust anyone with this information unless we’d literally bet our lives on them.”

  Jace tensed, a cold realization creeping up his spine. There was a part of the story he hadn’t told them. Something about the locket Ponos had been wearing. He hesitated, then spilled the rest—how Hades had warned him to be careful, to keep certain details hidden.

  Alice’s eyes sharpened. “If Hades warned you, then this is even bigger than we thought. That locket, the possession—it’s all connected. We have to get that book. It might be the only thing that gives us a heads-up on what’s coming.”

  They all nodded, the gravity of the situation settling in.

  “Any bright ideas?” Dex asked, hands up in surrender.

  Alice flashed a sly grin. “Leave that to me. I’ve got a plan. Ell, I’ll need your help with something.”

  Ell crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. “Oh, being secretive now, are we?”

  Alice’s grin only widened. “Sometimes less is more. I’ll explain when the time’s right.”

  Ell hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Fine, but don’t leave me in the dark too long. I hate surprises.”

  Jace, feeling the weight of the conversation lift ever so slightly, cleared his throat. “Speaking of surprises... I’ve got one.”

  The group turned toward him, curiosity piqued.

  “I’ve been working on a class upgrade,” Jace said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.

  Dex’s eyes went wide, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. “Wait, wait, wait—first you get chosen by the Thirteenth Olympian, then you’re made Society President, and now you’ve got a Unique Class Title? All in your first year?”

  Without warning, Dex reached toward Jace’s stomach, fingers wiggling in the air like a cat about to pounce.

  Jace smacked his hand away, scowling. “What are you doing?”

  Dex shrugged, utterly unbothered. “I heard it’s good luck to rub a winner’s stomach or something. Dude, you’ve got to be the luckiest guy alive. Maybe some of that fortune will rub off on me.”

  Jace raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

  Dex grinned. “Worth a shot.”

  Ell shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve got that hero aura about you, you know that?”

  Jace forced a smile. Lucky. If only they knew. His thoughts drifted to his brother, still lying in that hospital bed back on Earth. He didn’t feel lucky. Not even close.

  He’d been pushing, struggling—against the game, against fate, against the universe itself it seemed. Flashes on his moments in the Dark One’s Soul Realm flashed to mind. Even with the upgrades, even with all the progress, it felt like the darkness was still closing in. Like something was waiting for him, just out of sight, and when it came, it would be merciless. He didn’t tell them any of that. Some things felt too heavy to share.

  “I just need some time to train,” he said instead. “Nothing big. A bit of grinding -working on skills. While Alice and Ell are handling the library thing.”

  Ell nodded. “Makes sense. Just stay safe, and don’t go past Zone Three. We’ve had enough demon possession for one week.”

  Jace nodded, though they all knew he wasn’t planning on playing it safe.

  “Wait,” Dex interrupted, raising a hand, “what am I supposed to do while you’re all off on these intense secret quests?”

  The group paused, then Ell snapped her fingers. “You can start planning the Midnight Festival. We need a venue, and Jace’s place would be perfect.”

  Dex gave her a deadpan look. “Really? You want me to play party planner?”

  “Remember Drake from the Oracle Trials?” Ell said, ignoring his protests. “He got Dionysus as his patron. Go find him—those guys party hard. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

  Dex’s expression brightened instantly. “Drake? The guy with the endless kegs? Say no more. Jace, you got any more of that flavor stuff? I want to give them a little preview, get the buzz going.”

  Jace handed over most of what he had, keeping just a small portion for himself and passing a vial to Alice and Ell. “Just be careful,” he warned. “It’s potent. Tell them a little goes a long way. Too much, and... well, at their own risk.”

  Dex grinned wide, stuffing the vial into his pocket. “You got it. Time to get this festival rolling.”

  Then his grin faltered as he looked Jace over, eyes narrowing. “So, you gonna get yourself some better gear before heading out?”

  Jace glanced down at himself—worn leather boots, threadbare trousers, and a faded cloak that had seen better days. His chest plate was nonexistent, just a thin, padded vest with a few hastily stitched patches. In truth, it looked more like something you’d wear to fend off a cold breeze, not a sword swing.

  “What do you mean?” Jace raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance.

  The group exchanged glances like he’d just claimed the sky wasn’t blue.

  “Hey, these are new. And nice,” Jace added, tugging at his vest with all the conviction of a man who knew he was in deep denial.

  “Yeah, for classes, not for combat training,” Ell quipped, smirking as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Her tone was sharp enough to poke, but light enough to tease. Alice nodded beside her, arms crossed in a silent agreement.

  Dex didn’t move, just kept staring at him, all casual but with that look of his that said he was about to drop some wisdom. “I believe in two things: your incredible luck and your utterly terrible life choices. And, buddy, that combo? It screams ‘Please buy better gear before you die.’”

  Jace shrugged, trying to brush off the concern with a grin that didn’t quite stick. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “If you need money—“ Ell started, but Jace cut her off, waving away the offer before she could even finish. The words felt heavy, like they’d drifted into a space they weren’t supposed to occupy.

  “It’s fine. I’ve got what I need,” Jace said, the lie sliding out effortlessly. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to lie, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  Dex’s eyebrow quirked up, skeptical, but he didn’t push. Alice tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle she hadn’t realized she was working on.

  The air between them lingered, thick and awkward, until Jace cleared his throat. “Anyway, I should probably get to shopping,” Jace said, heading purposefully to the Hephaestus district.

  “Anyone want to tell him he’s going the wrong direction?” Dex asked.

  “He’ll figure it out,” Ell replied.