18th December (Thursday), Night ti
Given the scale of this place, I half-expected we’d be left waiting for hours before anyone deigned to answer us. So, while Thomas shifted restlessly beside , I began shaping a ntal picture of a square farther back, a little plaza paved with bricks and ringed by a low wall shaped like shelves stacked with books. Around it, circles of trees. So held birds, others books with wings of paper. A few sat open, their pages rustling in the breeze, but instead of birdsong only whispers drifted out: fragnts of stories, fragnts of truths.
I intended to paint it into my spellbook later, to carve myself a backdoor here without passing through the front gate and its guardians again. Whether I’d ever have the ti to do it, that was another matter.
“How co anyone can just walk into this place?” Thomas asked suddenly, glancing at the guards. They had stepped back, widening their half-circle to give us breathing room, though their presence was anything but casual.
The sa one that had spoken earlier shifted forward. The sa one who had spoken with us—Cedric—stepped closer to answer. This ti, he didn’t reach for his blade or his rifle.
“This is a hall of knowledge. Any student of these halls is welco to co and go. Our charge is to ensure that Guild business does not interfere with this order.”
“Paper guardians are part of this place’s natural defense, aren’t they?” I asked. “You’re just… cooperating with them.”
Its masked face turned toward . “I am not at liberty to disclose that information.”
“Why do you work for the Guild?” I asked, curious why anyone would dedicate themselves to an organization like this.
“What do you an why? It’s my duty.” Strange answer.
“I ant why did you start working for them, not why now.”
“I started because it was my duty,” he said again, then straightened slightly. “Right, I forgot. You are a sourceress, not a legacy mage. I joined because my mother is in the Guild, and her father was too, and his parents before him. It’s the clearest path for many mages to accomplish sothing.”
“My questions might seem mundane to you, but I was genuinely interested. A year ago I knew nothing about this world. No Guilds, no legacies.”
“Why do you want to join, then?”
“Do I have alternatives if I want to learn sothing?”
“I don’t know. My whole life I’ve been prepared to be accepted into our Domain and the Guild. I never looked for alternatives.”
“Why are you on guard duty?”
“Most people either start in bureaucratic work or ard service. We chose the latter.”
“So you’re a hexblade?”
“No. Hexblades are also ard, but more of a policing force. The elite.” This guy sure liked to talk.
“We are elites as well, Cedric,” another guard interjected from farther back. His voice was heavier, more imposing. “Best guards the Guild has ever seen.” Judging by Thomas’s expression and the arms crossed over his chest, he clearly didn’t buy it.
“When can we expect soone to co for us?” Thomas asked, clearly uninterested in the debate.
“Soon, Mr. Thomas Torque. We’ve been notified to expect you, which ans you’re a high priority, since we’re never notified when soone unimportant cos.”
He sighed, his arms relaxing slightly. “I’m not important here. But my ssage is, and I’d rather be on my way back ho already.”
“Where do you live, Mr. Torque?” the guardian asked.
“New York.”
“Fortunately, that’s not too far.”
“Yeah, but I still have to drive back, and it’s night outside.”
“It’s night in here too.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to stop most people from going about their business. Does no one sleep in this world?” I realized how little he still knew about this place.
“Shadows don’t sleep, and we are the night shift,” Cedric answered, just as soone important finally erged from the tower ahead. I knew imdiately. She was preceded and followed by two attendants each, giving her a detail of four additional guards. All were clad in armor that had transcended function to beco art.
Eagle-like patterns spread across chest plates, shoulder guards, and arm-bands, each feather etched with painstaking precision. Leg armor mirrored the ornate design. Capes, shorter than the guards’, were stylized like the Arican flag, but instead of stars, five full moons arranged in a perfect pentagram glead on the blue field.
The woman herself wore a long black-and-purple robe, with intricate golden embroidery reminiscent of my very own Lóng. Her bosom was neatly caged in a bodice-like elent, giving her the appearance of a sorceress straight out of a fantasy book. She even wore a leathery, witch-like hat dyed deep purple, with a few long feathers tucked into the belt around its base.
Her face was that of a middle-aged woman, used to frustration or anger. Countless wrinkles around her forehead and eyes were unmistakable signs of years spent in command. Her eyes remained half-open, fixed and straight, while her lips curved into a smile that was far too forced.
Judging by her apparent gender, I made an educated guess that she wasn’t the Guild Master himself, but rather a representative.
“Attention!” Cedric shouted, and the human guards snapped to rigid attention, as if invisible tethers yanked them upright. The paper guardians moved aside as well, forming a tunnel through which the lady and her detail could pass.
As she approached, she stopped a few feet away from us, surrounded by her people.
“Lady of the Tower, Mistress of the Moons, Grand Magister of Knowledge, Anna Draven,” Cedric announced. Even worse than the usual titles my professors loved to bore their students with. I suspected they could be shortened, but I said nothing. It was still primarily Thomas’s responsibility, and I didn’t want to make things harder for him.
“Bow.” Cedric added, and every guardian, human and paper alike complied. I followed suit, with Thomas giving his respect last.
I saw her eyes light up slightly, the corners lifting into a true smile as we lowered our heads. She clearly adored her position far too much.
“Mr. Thomas Torque, I believe your benefactor has sent sothing requiring my attention. Present it to .” Her voice was lodious, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it carried a note of Authority in itself.
Thomas, without a word, reached for the envelope hidden in his jacket. This was unlike him. Normally he would have asked who exactly she was in relation to the Guild Master, so I stepped in.
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“Excuse , we were supposed to make sure this docunt reaches the Guild Master or his representative. Your titles made an impression, but we are not versed in the Guild’s nonclature and would need confirmation that you indeed are a representative.” My words made Thomas pause, snapping him out of his montary enchantnt. Anna’s face grew more serious.
“I am Grand Magister of Knowledge. There are four grand magisters in total, and we answer only to the Guild Master himself. Take it as a sign of goodwill that I’ve opened my mouth to you.” She addressed in the most benevolent manner possible. What a bitch.
At least it was confirmation enough for Thomas, for he handed her the letter, and she slipped it into a hidden pocket of her robe.
“Inform your benefactor that we shall prepare a response and deliver it at the appropriate ti.” What a reply. It said nothing at all, but once again, it wasn’t my problem to untangle. I was just a witness here.
“I will,” Thomas responded. “If that is all, I’d like to get going.”
“That is all, human.”
Thomas didn’t react to her superiority complex at all. He bowed politely and ca closer to .
“Should I wait for you?” he asked. I turned my head, and he followed the path down the rabbit hole.
Once he was gone, the magical goddess of all that is enchanted—Anna—simply turned and returned to her tower, while everyone beside her furred entourage bowed. included.
As she disappeared, I approached Cedric again, curious to know what he looked like beneath his armored mask.
“Should I get going as well, or will soone co down to et with too? If not, I’ve got quite a lot on my plate, and I wouldn’t want to waste ti.”
“We’ve sent word about you as well,” Cedric replied, his voice even. “But since you are not of the utmost importance, like Mr. Torque was, you will have to be patient. Soone will co in due ti.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Can I make this approach faster sohow? Should I… show you what I can do?”
“No need. We already have a baseline. There is a mage with the sa Domain as yours working for the Guild.”
“The what? The sa Domain?”
“Artistic Creation. She is a legacy mage, but with quite a reputation.”
That made my ears perk up. “Now you’ve got interested. Can I get her na?”
“No. Nas are not given freely here, unless soone has the power to stand behind them, like Grand Magister Anna Draven.”
“So this other artist woman doesn’t have that power?”
“It is not for to decide. I was rely making the observation that Magister Anna does.”
“What about your Domain? Can you share it? You seem like a cool guy and your na was shared freely as well.”
He shifted back a little. I’d overstepped. Damn. He was going to bunker down.
“A na was shared. I am not at liberty to disclose anything more,” he said flatly.
“I see.” I forced a little shrug. “Then I’ll wait a bit, if you don’t mind.”
Ignoring the lot of them, I vaulted up onto the hollow arch of the entrance and sat there, swinging one leg like a bored child, while their eyes followed in silence.
**********
Two hours dragged by and nothing of substance happened. At one point, so poor sourcerer stumbled into the portal by accident, but Cedric quickly ushered him back into the tunnel with a curt warning that it wasn’t safe for him here.
I couldn’t rember the last ti I sat idle for two straight hours. My life was a blur of constant motion lately. Runs, fights, risks, scheming. Sitting still like this felt less like rest and more like being trapped, every minute stretching out into an hour. Maybe if I were wasting ti in my own ho or Domain, I’d have tolerated it. But here, in the shadow of this grand, oppressive place, it felt unbearable.
So I snapped.
I summoned my Spellbook grimoire with a flicker of thought, its chain-clasp belt clinking as it wrapped itself around my waist. My watercolor pens and spray cans materialized alongside it. If I was going to rot here, I’d at least sketch out that little square I’d seen earlier. My mind needed sothing to chew on before it ate itself.
But of course, the mont I brought my art into this realm, I felt the shift in the air.
“Stop. What are you doing, Ms. Hare?”
Cedric’s voice was sharp, and within seconds he and the other guards were moving. They spread around in a semicircle, even the paper guardians folding closer, their ink-painted faces twisting into sothing far less neutral.
I might have made a mistake.
“We’ve seen you use magic,” Cedric continued as he drew his wakizashi. Shadowlight hissed down the blade, coating the steel in hungry orange. “That is not permitted here. And you hold pen and paper, which given your Domain are tools of power. So I will ask this only once: stop, and explain yourself.”
I raised my hands slightly, trying to ease the tension.
“Okay. First of all, I didn’t know about any no-magic rule. How could I? No one told . Second—” I gestured faintly toward the pens, “I was just bored. I wanted to draw sothing. Artistic Creation is my Domain, isn’t it obvious that it’s sothing I like to do?”
“Not knowing the law doesn’t exempt you from following it,” Cedric said evenly, though his tone softened just a fraction. Before I could reply, another guard cut in sharply:
“You leave now, or we kill you.”
“Seriously?” I blinked at him. “Those are my only options?”
“Yes,” he said flatly. “Offensive magic is punishable by exile or death. Since this is your first offense, you get the benefit of the doubt.”
I spread my hands. “Wait, let get this straight. You’re a magic order that punishes… using magic?”
Cedric answered, patient as ever. “Yes. By those not part of the Order, when they are on our grounds. That is the rule.”
“Oh. Well, when you put it like that makes more sense.” I hopped down from my perch, slipping the pen back into my bag. “But you really should put a list of laws sowhere near the entrance. Maybe a signpost. ‘Welco to the Guild, don’t draw shit or die,’ that sort of thing. Anyway, I’ll take my leave then—”
“No, you won’t.”
The new voice carried over us, firm but smooth. A woman ca striding quickly from one of the side alleys, her pace urgent but not rushed. The guardians imdiately pivoted toward her and bowed as one. Even the paper ones folded themselves in reverence, then stepped back and sheathed their blades.
“Of course, milady,” Cedric said.
“Milady?” I echoed under my breath.
“They’re being dramatic,” the woman said with a small smile. “Sorry it took so long. I was tasked with asuring your aptitude, but—” her lips curved wryly, “I was… otherwise occupied.”
She was older than , though not by much, maybe mid-thirties. Her skin was smooth, though the faint lines near her eyes spoke of soone who laughed often. Her hair was striking: a pale blonde so light it was nearly white, falling loose except for a tie at the middle. She wore no visible makeup, or the kind subtle enough to make it seem that way, the effortless kind that only worked if you were already gorgeous.
Her jeans and flannel shirt were rumpled, buttons slightly misaligned, one pant leg higher than the other. She had only one sock on. The flush at her throat was fresh, warm, and hard to miss.
Clumsy and scatterbrained? Maybe. But everything about her scread she’d just been tangled up in sothing… or with soone.
“I hope you finished…” I let the pause hang, watching her eyes widen. “…whatever you were doing before you ca…” Another pause. Her cheeks went redder. “…here for .”
“You have an unusual way of speaking, Ms. Hare.” She tried to regain composure, but the flush gave her away. With a small wave of her hand, she dismissed the guards, and once they were out of earshot, she turned back to . “How did you know?”
“That you were banging?” I gambled, watching for a crack in her mask.
Her voice dropped to a hiss. “Yes!”
“For the record,” I tilted my head toward the retreating guards, “I don’t think they noticed. Everyone here seems so locked into following their little commandnts, they’re afraid to even share their nas. But you? You dressed in a hurry… buttons mismatched, pant leg uneven, one sock missing. And you’re in a good mood.”
“That’s it?” she asked, genuinely stunned.
“That’s it. Sorry for killing the afterglow.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I got the ssage about you right before, but I was already… in the middle of things. So I made you wait.” She arched a brow. “Hope you don’t mind?”
“I was bored out of my fucking mind,” I said flatly. That broke her into laughter. “I summoned my sketchbook just to keep busy, and apparently that’s punishable by death around here. Lucky for , that’s when you—well—ca.”
She laughed harder, wiping at her eyes. “I like you already, Jess. May I call you Jess?”
“Not sure yet,” I pushed back, folding my arms. “You seem awfully friendly for soone here to asure my aptitude. I need a baseline before I decide.”
“That’s fair,” she said, still smiling. “I guess it cos with the Domain. They sent because we share one, actually. Otherwise, you’d probably have soone much less fun.”
“You’re the other Artistic Creation mage?”
“Yes. My grandfather was Max Weber.” She extended her hand lightly. “I go by Nat. Short for Natalie.”
My head tilted. “Max Weber, the cubism and fauvism master?”
“The sa.”
“I didn’t know he was a mage.”
“Most people don’t. That part rarely makes it into art history classes.”
That made laugh, but at the sa ti, sothing pricked at the back of my mind. Her warmth, her friendliness, her ease, it could all be real. Or it could be the play.
“So the Guild picked you just because we share the Domain?” I asked, testing her.
“No. Not usually. But I was here tonight, so they fetched .”
“And you don’t mind telling your na outright? What’s the risk there?”
“That’s just a precaution so people take. It’s not a law.” Nat shrugged. “There are Domains tied to Nas, mages who can twist them to their advantage. So most folks stay cautious. But from what I know, actually using a na against soone is difficult. Our authority resists that kind of ddling.”
“Good to know.” I extended my hand, watching her reaction carefully. “Jessica Hare. Jess, if you like. Sorceress of the Domain of Artistic Creation. Now—what’s this test you ntioned?”
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