Seven days had passed since Jace drank the potion.
It was a quiet morning now.
Jace sat at the dining table with a mug of weak coffee in front of him, absently tearing small pieces from a slice of bread and popping them into his mouth.
In those seven days, he had tested every corner of his new power.
The potion hadn't turned him into a genius overnight. His mind wasn't exponentially sharper.
But his mory had improved noticeably—details stuck better, faces and conversations lingered longer. It wasn't as perfect as the reading glasses he'd bought at the gathering, but it was a real, steady change. He no longer had to reread passages twice to rember them.
His deanor had shifted too. He wasn't suddenly bold or confident. That wasn't how the Seer potion worked. Instead, his usual timidity had softened into sothing more neutral—calr, less reactive. He still flushed easily, still hesitated before speaking to strangers, but the constant inner fidgeting had quieted. It felt… balanced.
In a strange way, the powers suited the "Jake" part of him more than the original Jace. Jake had always been level-headed, kind of emotionally dull, never too loud or too withdrawn.
The potion's subtle clarity let that side breathe easier. There was no real conflict between the two personalities—just a gentle rging that made him feel more like himself.
He had also spent so of his saved money on divination tools.
A cheap deck of tarot cards (his favorite by far—familiar from the novel, easy to carry, endlessly interpretable).
A small silver pendulum on a thin chain for yes/no questions.
A polished black Cane
Most evenings he sat at the table, shuffling cards or swinging the pendulum, asking small, safe questions: 'Is today safe? Will the lesson go well?' The answers were vague at first, but practice made them clearer.
He was careful—never pushing too hard, never asking about big things like fate or hidden enemies. He rembered Klein's early mistakes.
When the coffee was gone and the bread reduced to crumbs, Jace stood up. He shrugged on his brown coat, settled the matching brown hat on his head, and picked up his keys.
Just as he reached for the doorknob—
*Clack.*
The door across the hall opened.
Jane stepped out.
She wore a plain light-yellow dress that fell simply to her ankles. Her brownish-black hair was tied back in a neat bun, but a few loose strands frad her face. In the morning light she looked soft and natural—pretty in that quiet way that didn't demand attention but rewarded anyone who looked twice.
Jace paused. Seeing her like this, he understood exactly why he—why Jace—had always liked her. The gentle smile, the calm way she carried herself, the warmth in her eyes. She checked every box without trying.
Jane noticed him and smiled as she pulled her door shut behind her.
"Leaving for work too?" she asked.
"Yes," Jace said. He lifted his hat slightly in greeting, a small, polite gesture.
Jane's gaze moved over him—coat, hat, the way he stood a little straighter than before.
"You look good," she said simply.
Jace raised an eyebrow, half-teasing. "Don't I always?"
"Yes, you do," she replied. Her smile turned thoughtful. "But these days… the air around you feels different."
Jace gave her a wry little smile. "Different-good, I hope."
Jane tilted her head. "Change is always appreciated—as long as it isn't too drastic."
Even though he hadn't shown any obvious outward shift, she had noticed. Jane really knew him—knew at least the part of him that had lived here for years. It made his chest tighten in a warm, strange way.
He let the smile linger. "Looks like you pay more attention than I thought."
Jane chuckled softly. "Of course. You're the only boy I know. Who else would I give my attention to?" She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Or… maybe you don't like my attention as much as I imagined. Perhaps I should find another man to give it to."
"No—" The word ca out too fast, too sharp.
Heat rushed to Jace's face. He turned away quickly, pretending to adjust his hat so she wouldn't see the flush.
He cleared his throat. "I like your attention just fine, Jane. What man wouldn't like the attention of an older, pretty woman?"
Jane's smile brightened—genuine, warm, a little amused.
*If he still blushes like that, then he really hasn't changed,* she thought.
"Well," she said, "we can't stand here chatting all day, can we?"
She stepped closer.
Jace offered his arm without thinking. "Let's go. I'll escort you to a carriage."
Jane took his arm without hesitation. Her hand rested lightly on the crook of his elbow.
They started walking down the hallway together, side by side, the morning light spilling in from the stairwell window ahead.
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