The dormitory was far from luxury accommodations, with beds covering every inch of the walls. Each bed had another one stacked on top, forming small towers throughout the room. The place was empty now, with students out for breakfast or whatever they did in the mornings.

  Vidar and Sven found two unoccupied beds in the far corner and settled down. Each bed had a small wooden box beside it. When Vidar opened the lid, he found a set of student robes, some pants, an inkwell, and some low-grade paper bound in a skin cover.

  "I don’t like this," Vidar muttered.

  "I can see that," Sven replied, chuckling. "You’re used to sleeping in a bed while I slept on the floor." He rolled back and forth on the squeaky bed. "This thing is like clouds in comparison!"

  A crowd of boys bustled into the room, and the noise soon grew to uncomfortable levels. Many of them glanced their way, but no one greeted Vidar or Sven. Vidar didn’t mind. He wasn’t there to make friends. All he wanted was to get in, prove his knowledge and ability, get his writ, and leave. Being forced to stay inside the building only made it worse. He hoped it wouldn’t take long to get out again. He had more important things to do than to loiter around with a bunch of young boys.

  Sven grabbed a set of student’s robes and threw them over his head. Vidar sighed, doing the same, before stopping himself.

  "Hey, you!" he called out, half-shouting over the chatter, trying to get the attention of a nearby boy.

  The boy, a spindly lad no more than fourteen years old, with small eyes, pale hair, and almost invisible eyebrows, turned to Vidar and pointed to himself with a questioning look.

  "Yes, you," Vidar said. "Who do we see about getting our clothes washed?"

  The boy snorted. "We wash our own clothes, newcomer. You’ll be put on washing duty yourself, since you’re new."

  Vidar waved off the topic, embracing another. "Sven and I are supposed to go to some class on theory. Do you know where that is? Introductory theory to runic symbols or something?"

  "Yeah, I’m going there too," the boy said. "I’ll take you."

  "Thanks," Sven said, lying down on the bed and closing his eyes. "I’m going to get some shut-eye."

  But Vidar didn’t hear him, as a familiar face had just entered the room. Alvarn stood just inside the door, looking around.

  Vidar waved and shouted, "Alvarn!"

  Alvarn’s gaze landed on Vidar, and his face brightened as he made his way over. "Here you are, with the boys," Alvarn teased. "I’m sure you’ll make an excellent student."

  "How long did it take you to get your room?" Vidar asked.

  "About a year, like everyone else."

  "Well, it’s good to see you," Vidar said. "I’m not liking this place much so far. But what are you doing here?"

  "I just came to say hello and goodbye," Alvarn said, pulling a very familiar key from his pocket. "And to give you this." He handed it to Vidar. "A copy," he added with a nod.

  "Wait, you’re leaving?" Vidar asked, surprised.

  "Yes. I got my writ early."

  "You got one, but I didn’t?" Vidar’s voice grew a bit too heated, and Alvarn frowned.

  "My education was already almost complete," Alvarn said. "They awarded me an early graduation, thanks to the design of the floating platform." He glanced around at the other students. "The official reason on my certificate is ‘for contributions of excellence.’"

  "Well, I'm happy for you," Vidar said, not feeling much in the way of happiness. "But you can’t leave."

  "I must return to my father," Alvarn replied.

  "Have you told him you graduated?"

  Alvarn adjusted his glasses. "Well… no. He’s doing business much farther south. I couldn’t reach him now anyway, not in winter."

  "And you have something else to do," Vidar added.

  "You mean the water-cleaning stations? You're not wrong," Alvarn said, his expression forlorn. "I’ve only fixed one so far."

  "And broken one."

  Alvarn's face fell.

  "Then it’s decided," Vidar said. "You’ll wait until spring to leave. Or summer. Or maybe you won’t leave at all."

  Alvarn looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "I’m opening up a shop where we'll sell runes," Vidar said, grinning. "My own workshop. A place to sell proper runes to proper citizens. It’s going to be a gold mine. Selling algiz runes means we'll be swimming in coin! I’ve got Erik out looking for a building right now."

  "But none of you have your writ," Alvarn pointed out.

  "You do," Vidar countered. "I want you to work for me."

  "For you?" Alvarn asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "With. Something like a partnership," Vidar clarified. "Your face up front, with your writ in a nice frame for everyone to see when they come into our shop."

  Alvarn narrowed his eyes. "And who’s going to be crafting those runes?"

  "No one will come into the workshop to check," Vidar promised.

  Alvarn understood the setup Vidar suggested, but he didn’t say no right away. That surprised Vidar a little.

  "Let me think on it," Alvarn said finally.

  "Of course," Vidar replied. "Think all you want. You have all the time in the world until Erik finds us a building."

  Alvarn just shook his head, but Vidar pressed on. "At least we’re in agreement that you can’t leave yet."

  "Because of the water-cleaning stations," Alvarn conceded.

  "And our mutual financial prospects, of course," Vidar added.

  "Nothing else?" Alvarn asked, smirking.

  Vidar hesitated, glancing around as he felt a flush rise in his cheeks. "Well, you’re a friend too, yeah? I don’t want to see you go."

  Alvarn grinned and chuckled as he turned to leave the room. He waved over his shoulder. "I’ll think about it. No promises. I've got three days before I have to vacate my room."

  "So long, partner!" Vidar shouted after him.

  A little while later, the pale-haired boy showed them the way to where they would have their first-ever lesson in rune crafting.

  The classroom held about twenty desks, arranged in rows of four, all facing the front of the room. There, the teacher had his desk along with a blackboard filled with scribbles. The teacher was a bald man in his early forties, his age showing in the corners of his eyes and the creases around his mouth when he smiled and bid them all welcome, as the twelve students shuffled into the room.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Vidar looked around and asked, "We were told all three of us would have a class on theory or something like that. But I don't see our friend here."

  The teacher gave Vidar a quick look up and down, then consulted a piece of paper on a clipboard. "Ah, yes. Vidar, is it? I was notified you would be here, along with your friend, Sven."

  Vidar asked, "What about Siv? The girl."

  "She can't be here," the teacher said. "Girls and boys have to be separated."

  Vidar frowned. "Why?"

  "You can’t teach adolescent boys and girls in the same room. Hormones running wild means learning suffers."

  "That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard."

  "Just have a seat, Vidar, so we can get started," the teacher said. "This is your first lesson, after all, or so I'm told."

  "That's right," Vidar said, taking a desk near the front. Sven looked around but finally sat next to him.

  The teacher fetched a stack of books and began dropping copies onto each student's desk. "Books stay closed, please. It's not time for them just yet," the teacher instructed as he walked to the front of the classroom and introduced himself. "I am Master Lengrave," he said, before setting off on a lengthy tangent about the mental state required for crafting and the basics of rune craft. He went on and on, lecturing about lines, symbolism, runes, and the concepts they embodied, sharing shared theories on how humans began harnessing them long ago, though he emphasized multiple times that little history survived from that period.

  Vidar’s eyelids felt heavy, and he nodded off once or twice before he was startled to attention when the teacher cleared his throat. "Now, we will read from the book," he announced.

  Sven raised his hand.

  "Yes?" Master Lengrave asked.

  "I can't read."

  The boys sitting further back in the classroom snickered, but the teacher wasn't fazed. "No worries, young Sven. We will see to it that you get a teacher. For now, Vidar can read to you."

  Vidar groaned but opened his book, finding the first chapter. It was an introduction of sorts, with small printed letters covering the entire page. They seemed to buzz and spin, making it impossible to read any faster than at a snail's pace. He did his best to concentrate, reading each word on its own as sweat pooled on his forehead and ran down his face.

  The boys in the back of the class were outright laughing now. Vidar gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore them, but found it impossible.

  "Shut the hell up!" he roared, grabbing his book and hurling it with all his might into the back of the classroom. The book slammed into one boy, sending him sprawling to the floor with a yelp and a shriek that bordered on girlish.

  Vidar stomped over, collected his book, and glared at everyone else, ignoring Master Lengrave’s shouts as he turned and walked out of the classroom. He glanced back at Sven, who kept his eyes down and focused on his hands resting on the desk, making no move to get out of his seat.

  Back in the dormitory, lying on his back on the lumpy bed, Vidar felt the nagging echoes of his doubts. Once again, he far too many voices surrounded him, his thoughts crowding in. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a huge mistake by not pushing harder to get a writ right away. Unless he found a way to shine, they'd force him to spend just as long as everyone else. Two full years of drowning in books until he choked on the letters.

  Vidar clenched his fists. He hadn’t clawed his way back from the cold, after being thrown out onto the street, just to jump into a new, stressful environment filled with endless reading, stern admonishments, and that all-too-familiar, heavy feeling in his gut. There was only one way out of this. Viktoria. The guildmistress.

  When he knocked on the woman's door, she called for him to enter almost immediately, as if she’d been expecting his visit. That only made him angrier. He threw himself into the seat across from her with no formal greeting.

  “You said this was just a formality,” Vidar began. “You said I’d be pushed through. Instead, I’m sitting in classrooms meant for beginners, listening to useless theory! And on top of it all, you expect me to read all this nonsense! What kind of institution is this?”

  Viktoria looked at him with an unreadable expression. “All knowledge is useful, Vidar,” she replied. “To truly master something, we must understand its underlying principles. That means learning the theory.”

  “This wasn’t the deal!” Vidar shot back, glaring at her. “Just fast-track me and give me my writ.”

  “I never promised,” Viktoria said, her gaze steady, “that you would cruise through the program. You’d be wise to give it a year, Vidar. We’ll see where we stand then.”

  “A year?” Vidar echoed, feeling a pit of dread form in his stomach. A year was an unimaginable length of time. “I’m not waiting a year! Are you saying you won’t honor our deal?”

  “I am honoring our deal,” Viktoria replied, steely-voiced. “And you should take care of how you speak to your guildmistress.”

  Vidar pressed on. “What if you just let me work without coming after me? I don’t even need a writ from your precious guild, guildmistress.”

  “Shortcuts are not the path of a respectable person,” Viktoria countered. “Do you not wish for respect, Vidar?”

  “To be respectable? No. Respect? Yes,” Vidar shot back. He leaned forward, a sly glint in his eyes. “How about this, then? I know more runes than you realize. I’ll show you if you give me the writ now.”

  Viktoria's eyes narrowed, glittering with interest. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you? You have more runes. Show me.”

  She handed him a piece of paper, a pen, and an inkwell. Vidar took them, drawing the symbol, making sure she couldn’t see it. He held the paper in his palm, away from her curious gaze, then activated it. Flames roared to life, licking the stone ceiling without leaving a trace of soot.

  Vidar put the piece of paper in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed it to prevent her from studying the rune. Viktoria stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide with awe.

  “Logiz,” she whispered.

  “What’s that?” Vidar asked, eyebrow raised.

  She swallowed, her gaze still fixed above. “Logiz. The flame rune. It’s something of a legend. I never expected it to exist. It seems, Vidar, that you have a peculiar knack for finding lost things that don’t belong to you.”

  “It belongs to me, alright,” Vidar said. “No one else knows about this but I.” He hesitated, feeling the weight of his secret. Now that he thought about it, perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Flame runes in the hands of the guild. He shuddered but pressed on. It was too late to back out now. There was no un-showing what he'd just revealed. His desire to escape the suffocating lectures and books drove him forward.

  Viktoria regarded him for a long moment, then gave a slight shake of the head. “As a student here, Vidar, all your knowledge belongs to the guild. You should share that symbol with us.”

  “I won’t,” Vidar replied. “Not unless I get something in return.”

  She considered him, then said, “I’ll allow you to take the final exam. All students must pass it to graduate as proper rune scribes. Pass it, and the writ is yours. On merit.”

  "Let me think about it," Vidar said, feeling cautious under Viktoria's hungry gaze. They'd learned of the stakra runes and the barrier rune, algiz, but that look told Vidar she wanted more. It also told him that perhaps it was best if she did not get what she wanted.

  Viktoria stood up. "Very well. You may resume your ordinary classes. It's time for the new students to get their first try at practical rune crafting."

  "Already?" Vidar asked, heading for the door. "That's something I'm a master at, without a doubt."

  "Of course," Viktoria said, her face betraying what she thought of his arrogance. "You are not permitted to leave this building, Vidar. Not as long as you are a student here. You will share that rune with me."

  She said 'me', not 'the guild', he noted as he headed to Alvarn's private room. It took him quite a while to find it, and the terrible feeling in his chest grew with every step.

  "Exam," Vidar said, panting from running all over the place.

  "Exam?" Alvarn raised an eyebrow.

  "The final one," Vidar explained, sitting down in the only chair in the sparsely furnished little room. "The graduation exam."

  "I passed that just this morning."

  "Was it difficult?" Vidar asked.

  Putting his chin in his hand as if to ponder, Alvarn looked up at the ceiling before answering. "Difficult? No, I wouldn't say that. Not if you've been diligent in your studies during your time here. You won't have to worry about it for a long while."

  "Viktoria might have said I could take it right now to pass and get my writ right away."

  "She did? And how did you get her to offer that?" he asked, his tone suspicious.

  "Well, I offered her a new rune."

  Alvarn’s eyes widened. "You offered her the styrka rune?"

  "Not exactly," Vidar replied, grabbing a random piece of paper to scribble upon. He held it up. "This is the logiz rune. I learned the name just now."

  "Logiz, like in flame?" Alvarn asked, grabbing the piece of paper to study it. "This is from the dragon?"

  Vidar nodded. "This is what nearly burned Halmstadt to the ground."

  Alvarn peered at Vidar over the piece of paper. "You gave this to the guildmistress?"

  "Not yet. I said I would think about it."

  "This," Alvarn said, shaking the paper. "Is a weapon, Vidar. We've already seen the destruction it wrought upon the city. You cannot allow the knowledge of this to spread beyond you and I."

  "What other options do I have?"

  "Study," Alvarn said. "Sit down and study. Two years is not a long time."

  Vidar slammed his palm on the small desk next to him. "Two years is an eternity! I didn’t even make it through the first class. I'm defective! Can’t even read. The letters escape me."

  "But you were a scribe!" Alvarn protested.

  "I was," Vidar snapped, his voice heated, "until my father threw me out because, at the end, I could not pen anything longer than my own name without taking hours to do it."

  Alvarn’s gaze softened. "Have you seen a medicus?"

  Vidar deflated. "It's not an illness, just part of who I am."

  "I'm sure the guild will accommodate..."

  "They'll pounce on the weakness and throw me out."

  Alvarn considered Vidar’s situation for a long moment, then sighed. "Why don’t you give them the styrka rune instead?"

  "She already knows about the logiz rune now," Vidar countered. "Do you think she'll let go of that opportunity and allow me to trade for something else?"

  "No," Alvarn admitted. "She won’t. But Vidar, you won’t pass the graduation exam."

  "What makes you so sure of that?"

  "Most of it is theoretical," Alvarn explained, "and the practical parts are about meticulous arrangement of lines. I've seen your runes, Vidar, and they are not accurate enough. Part of it is also math, to determine the value of runes depending on their quality and level of rejuvenation. Viktoria is setting you up to fail."

  "I knew that cheating witch would try to mess with me again," Vidar muttered. After considering for a moment, he stood up. "I’m going to turn her down."

  As he went for the door, he turned and pointed at the piece of paper. "Destroy that once you've studied it. And Alvarn?"

  "Yes, Vidar?"

  Vidar smirked. "My lines are impeccable."

  "They aren’t!" Alvarn shouted after Vidar as he slammed the door behind him.