Faint tallic clicks and the dry rustle of paper echoed through the boundless library.
The sound repeated, fading sowhere above and returning from below, as if the space itself had neither top nor bottom. Golden bookshelves stretched in all directions, rising endlessly upward and descending just as endlessly downward, forming a complex network of levels, passages, and narrow walkways.
The source of these steady, almost rhythmic sounds was the marionettes.
They moved across every level, step by step, without any unnecessary movent, carefully wiping the shelves and the spines of books. Thin tal fingers glided over the bindings, removing nearly invisible dust, then imdiately moved on to the next book.
Their movents were precise down to the smallest detail, as if each of them followed a predetermined order.
In other parts of the library, marionettes guided small floating carts, loaded with neat stacks of books and scrolls. The mana that held the carts aloft flowed softly through the air, not disturbing the overall silence.
Reaching the right place, they stopped, checked against sothing unseen, and began arranging the contents on the shelves.
The books they brought looked new—the bindings had not yet dulled, the edges of the pages were even, untouched by ti. The scrolls, on the contrary, sotis appeared ancient, but they were carefully placed into golden tubes and fitted into the overall order, as if each item occupied a strictly assigned place.
It created the impression that this library did not rely store knowledge, but constantly grew, expanding and replenishing itself with things that should not have appeared here on their own.
And despite all this continuous activity, it seed as though there was not a single living being inside.
Only endless rows of books, and the marionettes that continued their work.
But in the next mont, that asured idyll was shattered by a sharp crack.
The sound rang out, alien and far too loud for this place, and echoed off the endless rows of shelves, scattering in all directions.
One of the marionettes standing by a shelf exploded into pieces that very second. tal fragnts fell to the floor with a soft clatter, and the book it had been holding dropped down with a slap.
All movent around it froze for a mont.
The nearest marionettes turned almost simultaneously, their heads rotating toward the site of the destruction with identical precision.
In place of the destroyed marionette stood a small girl.
She appeared without any transition, as if she had always been there, simply unnoticed before.
A black robe hung loosely from her shoulders, yet it did not hang still—the fabric seed to unravel into thin strips, slowly swaying around her bare feet, as though touched by an invisible current. Between the folds flickered thin silver threads and patterns resembling ancient diagrams or maps, barely perceptible in motion.
Against the backdrop of endless rows of books, she looked too small—barely reaching an adult’s waist height.
Her skin bore a cold, muted blue hue, devoid of any warmth. Long gray hair fell almost to her knees, partially concealing her figure. From her head rose two curved horns.
The girl slowly turned her head, and from beneath the strands, her eyes beca visible—completely white, without pupils. It was almost impossible to tell where she was looking.
For a mont, she stood still, as if listening to sothing, and then her lips stretched into a wide smile, revealing a row of sharp teeth. There was neither malice nor warmth in that smile—only a faint playfulness.
In the next instant, sothing occurred that would unsettle anyone. The girl parted her lips, and an adult woman’s voice ca from her mouth: “I miscalculated…”
After saying this, she lightly pushed off the floor with her bare feet and began to rise smoothly upward. The strips of her robe trailed after her, lagging slightly, and the silver threads between the folds briefly glimred in the dimness.
As she ascended higher and higher, she quickly disappeared among the endless shelves.
The marionettes turned their heads in unison, watching her, and then almost imdiately returned to their work. So descended to the fragnts, carefully gathering the pieces of the destroyed marionette; others picked up the fallen book, wiped it, and returned it to its place on the shelf.
A few monts later, the library once again looked as though nothing had happened.
✦ ✦ ✦
At that mont, the strange girl began to accelerate rapidly. She narrowed her eyes, as if peering through space itself.
“Yes… It’s here…” she murmured quietly.
Her figure shot upward, gliding past endless rows of shelves, until she gradually began to slow.
Soon, a massive golden bridge appeared before her, suspended over a bottomless abyss. Its surface was smooth, with delicate patterns along the edges and magical circles woven into its structure.
The bridge led to colossal gates.
They lood ahead, occupying almost the entire space, adorned with intricate patterns and ancient inscriptions that shimred faintly in the dim light.
Drawing closer, the girl descended softly, her bare feet touching the golden platform, and without stopping, she walked forward at a calm pace.
But before she could reach the gates, the space around her shuddered slightly.
“Among us, you are the most familiar with the laws of ti,” a deep male voice resounded from all directions at once. There was a faint, almost imperceptible playfulness in it. “So why do you always arrive at the wrong ti?”
At that sa instant, the heavy doors shuddered, as if responding to the voice, and with a deep, drawn-out rumble, slowly began to open inward. The sound rolled through the space, echoing across the levels of the library and gradually fading into the distance.
Beyond the gates lay a vast hall.
Tall columns stretched upward, disappearing into a golden radiance where the ceiling dissolved. The light settled softly on stone and tal, and in the air lingered the scent of old paper, cold iron, and a faint sweet-floral note that stood apart from everything else.
The girl did not pause, imdiately shifting her gaze forward.
At the center of the hall, among the columns and light, sat a man’s silhouette. His figure was motionless, yet the space around him felt different, as if it were growing denser.
A deep aura emanated from him, where calmness intertwined strangely with sothing unsettling, almost chaotic, not inferior to the girl in its nature.
In that sa instant, the girl’s figure blurred, and she was almost instantly before the man’s table.
Tilting her head slightly, she said calmly, “Greetings, God of Knowledge and Madness.”
And with those words, she slowly raised her eyes, now seeing not a silhouette, but the man’s true form.
He sat perfectly still, so that the edges of his white-and-gold robe remained completely still.
The man’s skin bore a rich dark-red hue, and across it ran thin golden inscriptions, converging toward his bald head, where the lines ford a complex runic circle. With the faintest shift of light, the symbols shimred subtly, as if they had a life of their own.
The six arms of the God of Knowledge and Madness moved independently, yet without any sense of chaos. One lazily turned the page of an open book resting on his lap. Another held a scroll covered in dense, fine writing. A third rested against his chin, frozen in thought. A fourth slowly traced thin golden symbols in the air, which dissolved before they could take hold.
His ears were pointed, and his elongated face with sharp features gave him an almost predatory appearance.
Within his narrow eyes, multiple golden pupils shimred, moving independently. Upon closer inspection, beneath the lower lids, two more pairs of smaller eyes were visible, currently closed, as if awaiting their mont.
Lifting the corners of his lips slightly, he allowed himself a faint, barely perceptible smirk.
“It’s been a while, Goddess of Space.”
The girl nodded calmly, not averting her gaze.
“So three hundred years ago.”
He did not raise his head at once, continuing to read as if her presence was not even worth a glance.
Only one of his hands stilled halfway through a line, his fingers pausing for a mont, and then his eyes shifted ever so slightly toward the girl.
“Why did you destroy my marionette?”
The girl let out a quiet laugh, tilting her head as if the question genuinely amused her.
“Your pettiness is just as irritating as ever.”
The God of Knowledge and Madness smirked faintly without looking away from the book, and one of his hands lazily turned the page.
“Pettiness? I simply take care of my belongings,” he replied calmly. “Be glad you didn’t damage any of my books…”
With that, he seed to lose interest in the conversation. His attention once again dispersed between the book, the scroll, and the symbols that continued to appear and vanish in the air.
“Why did you co?” he said more absentmindedly. “Do you need so information?”
Without waiting for an answer, he exhaled quietly, as if wearied by the re necessity of speaking.
“I don’t have much ti, and my mory is not limitless…” he added. “Co back in a few dozen years. Then I’ll deal with your question…”
In response, the girl only shifted her gaze toward the table, letting it linger on a glass do.
Inside, a book slowly rotated within a faint gray haze, as if weightless. Its pages trembled almost imperceptibly, as though reacting to sothing from outside.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, the girl’s expression grew more serious, and the earlier playfulness vanished from her face.
“I’m here for other reasons.”
The God of Knowledge and Madness noticed the direction of her gaze, and a brief smirk appeared on his lips. One of his hands lazily tapped its fingers on the table, while another shifted the do slightly closer to him.
“That’s my toy. I won’t give it to you.”
The girl’s lips twitched faintly, as if the words only irritated her.
“Why would I even need that book?” she replied coldly. “I’m concerned about the Divine Spirit that is sealed inside.”
In response, the God of Knowledge and Madness simply flicked the glass surface with his finger.
A soft, clear sound rang out, and a faint ripple passed over the do for a mont.
“No need for that,” he said calmly. “The poor thing has been sealed inside for seven hundred years.”
He directed all his pupils toward the book, and a brief spark of interest flickered in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual absent-mindedness.
“And it doesn’t seem that he has any way of returning to the Spirit World.”
The God of Knowledge and Madness slowly rose from behind the table, without making any abrupt movents—as if the world itself had to adjust to his pace.
One of his hands lifted the glass do, holding it at eye level, while another carefully took the gray book, drawing it out.
The book settled into his palm, at first glance completely unremarkable.
A trace of mischief flickered in his eyes.
“It seems like only yesterday we killed that insignificant Ascetic of the Void…” he muttered with satisfaction, lazily flipping through a few pages. “But seven hundred years have already passed.”
He turned his head slightly, shifting his gaze to the girl.
“Ti is a curious thing… isn’t it?”
The girl fell silent for a mont, and her face grew noticeably more serious.
“Ti is exactly where the problem lies. More precisely, in its fluctuations.”
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Her words were calm, but without their previous lightness.
The God of Knowledge and Madness frowned almost imperceptibly. Several of his pupils shifted in unison, focusing on her.
Sothing inside him stirred, giving rise to a sense of unease.
“What do you an?” he asked, now more attentive.
The girl took a step forward, then another, slowly closing the distance, and without taking her eyes off him, said calmly, “As you said earlier, by my nature I am highly sensitive to Ti Magic, as it is inseparably linked to Space Magic…”
Stopping a step away, she lifted her head slightly, and a shadow of concentration flickered in her white eyes.
“Not long ago, I sensed an incredible distortion of ti. My attempts to find the source of that distortion led to your Divine Library…”
The words had not even fully settled when all the pupils of the God of Knowledge and Madness dilated at once.
All six eyes opened at once.
“That’s impossible!” he blurted out. “Are you saying that—”
He did not finish.
“Ti Magic is accessible only to spirits,” the girl continued calmly. “And such power… and for its source to be here…”
That was enough.
The God of Knowledge and Madness abruptly opened the book in his hands, without paying attention to its contents, and pressed his palm against it. Golden mana flowed softly but swiftly into it, perating the pages and the hidden structures within them.
For a mont, he seed to turn into a statue, as if all his power and perception were directed deep into the book, toward sothing that could not be sensed by ordinary ans.
But in the very next instant, his jaw tightened, the muscles in his face twitched, and he forced out through clenched teeth, “Gone… But how?!”
He snapped his head up, his gaze sharp, almost mad.
“I was here the entire ti!”
With those words, he hurled the book aside in fury. The Canon of the Primordial Void struck the wall with a dull impact, bounced off, and fell to the floor. Its binding tore slightly, and several pages bent out of place.
The Goddess of Space rely frowned, watching without any particular emotion.
“I thought as much…”
The six eyes of the God of Knowledge and Madness began to move chaotically, his pupils darted from side to side, as if he were sorting through thousands of possibilities, discarding them one by one.
He said nothing, but the tension around him beca palpable.
“Ti is too complex to understand, even for …” the Goddess of Space continued calmly. “But if even you failed to notice the disappearance of the Divine Spirit…”
She did not finish, for the God of Knowledge and Madness continued her thought, “Then he was freed in the future and rewound ti back to this point.”
The girl nodded, tilting her head slightly.
“Or, more likely… soone helped him break free…”
The God of Knowledge and Madness let out a displeased snort, his lips twitching, and his gaze grew heavy for a mont.
“Without knowing the conditions for lifting the seal, it’s impossible to determine how he escaped…” he said, restraining his irritation. “Let alone trace who betrayed us.”
The Goddess of Space nodded, accepting this without objection, and, narrowing her eyes slightly, continued more analytically, “But there is good news as well. He was the only Divine Spirit who agreed to oppose the Pantheon. And once such powerful magic is used, it cannot be used again.”
She paused for a mont, considering different possible futures.
“So even when that Divine Spirit regains his strength, he will no longer pose a serious threat to us. Even if he tries to reunite with the rebels.”
But the mont those words were spoken, the expression on the God of Knowledge’s face changed sharply.
Irritation flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by sothing far more childish and abrupt.
“I don’t give a damn about him or the rebels!” he shouted, his voice turning sharp. “The Pantheon cannot be shaken!”
In the sa instant, he vanished from his place and appeared by the wall where the Canon of the Primordial Void lay.
Without hesitation, he kicked it.
The book jolted, the binding cracked further, pages tore free and scattered across the floor, so tearing apart under the impact.
He crushed it underfoot again, roughly, with obvious irritation, as if trying to destroy not the object, but the very fact that it had happened.
Tears stread down his cheeks.
“My toy is ruined now…” he hissed, his voice trembling with anger. “Broken…”
He clenched his teeth, his gaze turning almost mad.
“Who dared do this?” he breathed, then abruptly broke into a shout: “I’ll kill all of you!”
In the next instant, the God of Knowledge and Madness seed to snap completely.
His breathing faltered, his movents beca sharp, and he began kicking the book again and again, holding nothing back. The blows grew heavier, echoing through the hall in dull thuds, and it seed as though the Divine Library itself had begun to tremble almost imperceptibly, responding to his outburst of rage.
“Why?!” he shouted, his voice breaking into a rasp. “Why did they have to break my toy?!”
He struck again, tearing apart what remained of the binding, the pages beneath his feet turning into ragged scraps.
“Why?!” he repeated, beginning to sob uncontrollably.
But at that mont, the calm voice of the Goddess of Space ca from the side, even and almost soothing: “Calm down… Here, this is for you…”
The words sounded gentle, but there was a asured warmth in them.
The God of Knowledge and Madness turned sharply, almost instantly stopping his movents.
A book was already flying toward him.
Thick, weathered, with a darkened binding cracked and worn by ti, as if it had survived more than one millennium. The edges of its pages were uneven, darkened in places, and the book itself looked heavy even at a glance.
He caught it both eagerly and greedily.
For a mont, his gaze lingered on the cover, and in the sa instant, lively interest flared in his eyes.
He quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, brushing away the tears, and said in an entirely different voice, “These are the writings of the Cult of the Void! Such a rarity these days.”
The Goddess of Space nodded calmly, watching his reaction.
“A gift from my personal collection. Just don’t cry…”
Her voice remained even, but a barely perceptible mockery slipped through it.
The God of Knowledge and Madness was already barely listening.
Opening the book, he skimd the first lines, and sothing in his expression began to change. Irritation and the childish outburst faded, giving way to focus, and then to a familiar cold lucidity.
His pupils stilled, no longer darting chaotically.
He turned a page, holding his gaze on it a little longer than before, and the corners of his lips slowly curled upward.
“This is… a retelling of conversations with the Primordial…” he drawled quietly, studying the lines. “Could these be the personal notes of the God of Void?”
The Goddess of Space nodded, not looking away.
“Yes. I once took them from his corpse myself.”
For a mont, silence hung in the hall.
And then the God of Knowledge and Madness burst into loud laughter, throwing his head back, no longer resembling the one who had been hysterical a mont earlier.
“You always knew how to get through to .”
Laughing, he shifted his gaze to her, and lively, calculating interest flared in his eyes again.
“What do you want in return?”
The Goddess of Space did not draw out her answer, going straight to the point: “We need to understand how the Divine Spirit managed to break the seal, and what oath bound him to the Ascetic of the Void.”
She paused briefly, watching as his gaze slid over the lines again, and added, “Investigate this matter. And while you’re at it, think about which of the current young Gods could have infiltrated your Divine Library.”
The God of Knowledge and Madness nodded without raising his head, but there was no longer any of his previous absentmindedness in the motion.
“First the God of Void, and then that pathetic Ascetic of the Void…” he replied calmly, turning a page. “Bearers of the Soul of the Formless Void have already shaken the Pantheon twice.”
His pupils stilled for a mont, focusing on one of the lines.
“Anything connected to them is best checked more than once…”
He chuckled quietly, the corner of his lip twitching almost imperceptibly.
“Even after death, they still manage to cause problems…”
✦ ✦ ✦
And while in the Divine World they discussed events in one way or another connected to Kael, he himself at that mont was facing far more mundane problems.
Standing in a lecture hall at the Imperial Academy beside Lieutenant Valeria, he was helping her conduct the lesson, calmly speaking about the history of the Empire and occasionally adding to her explanations.
His voice was steady, but his appearance left much to be desired.
Whispers rippled through the rows of students—so exchanged glances, others barely suppressed snickers. A few openly gloated. Among them was Aiden, who, leaning toward his neighbor, whispered quietly:
“That bastard shouldn’t have provoked the Empire’s elite… Looks like he spent the whole night on the street…”
Soone nearby snorted, not even trying to hide it.
But not everyone looked on with mockery.
So of the students, however, cast brief, wary glances at Kael, in which sympathy and even sha could be seen. After his expulsion from the Student Quarter, Valkeris had indeed stopped pressuring the other Lasthold youths so openly, and many had noticed it.
And many were smart enough to understand that Kael had taken the brunt of it upon himself, protecting them.
Kael’s face looked pale, almost sickly. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes, almost like bruises, and his gaze occasionally lost focus, as if he had to make an effort to stay grounded in reality.
Nevertheless, he continued speaking, maintaining an even tone, and translated Valeria’s words without any noticeable pauses, though his voice nearly faltered at tis.
And at that mont, the words that sounded felt almost like salvation to him: “The lesson is over. You may go.”
The Lasthold youths had already learned the phrase, so they reacted instantly, even without translation. Chairs creaked, students rose from their seats, and the hall filled with the noise of movent and voices.
“Thank you, Lieutenant!”
So bowed, others simply nodded, hurrying to leave.
A few lingered for a mont, glancing at Kael as if intending to approach him. But noticing that he was heading toward Valeria, they changed their minds and silently left the hall.
The noise gradually faded.
When the door closed behind the last students, the room beca unusually quiet.
Valeria simply lit her pipe and looked at him sternly.
“I thought better of you, Kael. Breaking discipline on your second day already?”
Kael lowered his head without hesitation.
“It won’t happen again. I apologize.”
A brief silence followed.
Then Valeria suddenly laughed.
“You didn’t even try to make excuses. Comndable.”
She rose from her chair, stepped closer, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been inford about what happened in the Student Quarter.”
Her voice softened, but her gaze remained intent.
“You had a reason to get drunk. So I forgive you—for the first and last ti.”
Valeria held his gaze for a mont, then, turning, headed toward the exit of the classroom, adding calmly as she walked, “I hope minor hardships won’t break you. Don’t disappoint .”
Kael parted his lips as if about to say sothing and, forcing the words past the dryness in his throat, rasped, “Lieutenant Valeria… will there be no extra lessons?”
She didn’t even turn around, only slightly raising a brow as she reached for the door handle.
“I know perfectly well what a hangover is. Consider this going easy on you today.”
With those words, the door quietly opened, and she stepped into the corridor without slowing down.
The click of the lock sounded unexpectedly loud.
As soon as silence fully settled over the classroom, Kael imdiately collapsed onto the nearest chair, exhaling as if all his strength were leaving him with the breath.
“Damn Barnabas…” he breathed through clenched teeth, straightening with effort.
He ran a hand over his face, slowly, as if trying to pull himself together.
“I can’t believe he started blackmailing us at dawn…”
He fell silent for a mont, then the corner of his lips twitched into a crooked smile.
“Interesting…” he muttered under his breath. “If we hadn’t kept drinking with him, would he really have refused to sign the lease?”
But he didn’t have ti to finish the thought before the door burst open, and his friends practically tumbled into the room—Girren, Gilsh, Violet, and Roselle with Lissandra. The rush of voices and footsteps instantly shattered the quiet.
Dorian and Estelle ca in after them.
Dorian looked no better than Kael himself—pale, with a dull gaze, he lingered slightly apart, as if any sudden movent might finish him off.
Recalling the night before, Kael snorted quietly, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.
“Good thing Barnabas at least spared the girls…” he muttered under his breath.
Gilsh was the first to rush up to him without even lowering his voice: “How are you, brother?!”
Kael imdiately winced, closing his eyes.
“Quieter… please,” he exhaled. “My head is splitting…”
Lissandra and Roselle were at his side at once, both leaning toward him almost simultaneously. One adjusted his hair, the other peered into his face, clearly trying to assess his condition.
“How are you?” Lissandra asked quickly.
“What even happened yesterday?” Roselle added, not hiding her concern.
Kael only shook his head slightly, without going into details, and instead asked, “Did you gather our things?”
Both of them nodded imdiately.
Girren stepped up, calmly adjusting his blue hair, and added, “Everything’s ready, Kael. We took Dorian’s things as well.”
Kael gave a short nod, and a faint but satisfied smile flickered across his face.
“Good. Then we can head to our new ho.”
The words didn’t cause shock, but they imdiately drew attention.
Roselle tilted her head slightly, holding back her curiosity, then nodded.
“Violet said you found us a house…” she said. “But she refused to share the details—said that honor belongs to you.”
Kael chuckled quietly, leaning against Gilsh’s shoulder as he forced himself up from the chair. For a mont, he closed his eyes, riding out the wave of weakness, then looked over everyone present.
“First, we all need a proper al,” he said in the language of Lasthold, his voice slightly hoarse but steadier. “And then we have a long and difficult cleanup ahead of us, because our new ho is not in the best condition.”
The reaction was expected—soone sighed, others exchanged glances, but no one argued.
Turning to Dorian, Kael switched to the Imperial language and, with a slight smirk, asked, “Ready to clean?”
Without hesitation, Dorian rolled up his sleeves, as if already preparing to get to work.
“Leave the cleaning to .”
Kael shook his head, the corner of his lips twitching.
“No. You’ll oversee the process and assign tasks,” he replied calmly. “But we’ll all be cleaning together.”
He slowly let his gaze sweep over everyone, including Dorian and Estelle, adding, “Since fate brought us together under these circumstances, we need to support each other.”
At those words, Estelle pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze. Sothing stirred inside her, and before she could stop it, she felt tears rising to her eyes. Looking at her new friends, she felt, perhaps for the first ti, that she was not alone in the Capital.
Dorian said nothing, only straightened slightly, shifting his gaze from Kael to the others. His face remained calm, but sothing new flickered in his eyes—softer than before.
For a few seconds, a strange silence settled over the room.
But it was imdiately shattered by Gilsh’s loud voice: “Why is this girl crying? Doesn’t she like cleaning?”
He said it without a second thought, loudly as usual, not even trying to lower his tone.
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped forward and approached Estelle, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I don’t like it either!”
Estelle visibly flinched and recoiled slightly, looking at him in confusion. From her expression, it was clear she didn’t understand a word, but the tone and sudden closeness only unsettled her further.
Watching this, Kael let out a weary sigh, closing his eyes for a second.
“Ah… it’s going to be hard with you all…” he muttered under his breath.
But in the next mont, he shook his head, shaking off the fatigue, and with a faint smile added, “Let’s go. We’ve got a lot to do today.”
The words sounded simple, but there was confidence in them.
One by one, they nodded and moved after him, leaving the classroom. Even Estelle, still sowhat flustered, stepped forward, casting a brief glance at the others.
In that mont, a strange but pleasant atmosphere settled between them.
Not joy, and not relief—rather a quiet anticipation, as if sothing greater than just a new ho and cleaning awaited them ahead.
They had spent only two days in the Capital, yet events had moved so quickly that there had barely been ti to process everything.
And yet, it did not frighten anyone.
For so reason, being near Kael made even chaos feel manageable.
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