Assumptions were like unstable elixirs—best not bottled until the ingredients were confird. First, I needed to verify if Viera even knew a Sasha. Her sect might’ve been a minor branch grafted onto the city’s ruling family tree, but even saplings could trip you if you ignored their roots. The upcoming birthday ball would undoubtedly swarm with high-society hornets, so from the very hive of the ruling clans.
That turned the whole situation into a delicate balancing act. But what really gnawed at was Sasha’s peculiar shopping habits. Tampering with Parda was banned for a reason. Throw in the cryptic ntion of a teacher, and this reeked less of amateur dabbling and more of a cauldron left boiling unattended. Curiosity or conspiracy—either way, it demanded a chemist’s precision, not a bystander’s shrug.
Still, I had to handle this with finesse. The last thing I needed was to send Viera’s suspicions scurrying in my direction.
I reclined in my window-side chair, its adjacent apparatus snoozing like a dormant dragon. My eyes feigned interest in parchnt while my mind rehearsed conversational gambits. Across the room, Viera perched on my bed, honeyed hair cascading over her shoulder as she dissected my research notes with the precision of a starved scholar. Her murmured comntary—this is actually kinda insane (guilty), how’s this even possible in practice? (care to place a wager?), this defies at least three natural laws (objection noted), who even tests these hypotheses? (volunteers welco)—drifted through the air. I’d never admit it, but her scrupulous eye for detail made her the ideal beta reader, even if alchemical theory eluded her like a greased salamander.
We awaited Belle’s tea, which Viera now craved like a desert fern awaiting rain. My little badger had a gift, and I couldn’t help feeling proud every ti soone praised her brewing skills. But enough distractions.
Leaning back, I folded my arms and looked up at Viera. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your plate these days,” I said, keeping my tone casual.
Her gaze flicked up, curiosity cutting through the haze of notes. “Huh?”
“Well, your birthday ball and all that. I hear those things tend to be about more than just the dancing and the food.”
“Oh, that.” She sighed and set the stack of notes aside, organizing them with a precision that spoke to how much her father had drilled etiquette into her. “You have no idea. My father’s been breathing down my neck, making sure every detail is perfect. As if I don’t already have enough on my plate with my studies here in the tower.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Sotis I wish I could just skip the whole thing. Not that I don’t want the ball, I just wish I didn’t have to deal with the prep.”
“Sounds exhausting,” I said, watching her expression shift before shrugging lightly. “Personally, I wouldn’t worry about all the high-and-mighty guests. But I guess it’s nice to have friends to look forward to seeing, right? I bet they’re all buzzing about it.”
Her eyes lit up at that, and she grinned, her earlier frustration evaporating. “Oh, Jade! Since you’re coming—”
“I never said that,” I cut in smoothly, leaning forward just enough to catch her off guard. “I said I’m not opposed, but I haven’t decided yet.”
"Well, you didn’t exactly say no, so that’s a win in my book. I know you’ll co.” She flashed a grin, quick and confident. “And about friends? You’ll et them eventually. My circle’s pretty tight-knit—small, sure, but quality over quantity, right? You’d like them, maybe. I just wish I could spend more ti with them, you know? But Father insists on packing every event with dignitaries and socialites. The people I actually care about? My friends? They’re not the ‘grand ball’ type.”
I cocked my head, a lab-owl feigning innocence. “Hypothetically, if I hypothetically attend… enlighten . Who’s who in this nagerie?”
She paused, her gaze narrowing as she absently rubbed her chin. “Well, there’s Rhys, obviously. We’ve been best friends since we were kids. Took different paths for a while—he’s training with the Iron Pact now. Then there’s Kara. She’s always busy these days. Sothing about discovering a ‘secret pathway.’ And…” Her voice tapered off, her brow furrowing like she was trying to dredge up a half-buried mory. “Sasha. Recent addition. Chatty, perpetually peckish. But she’s sharp—really observant. I like that about her.”
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Bingo. That didn’t take long. Theory confird.
“Sasha, huh?” I kept my tone light, my mind already piecing together a picture. “Sounds like a solid crew. But you said she’s new?”
Viera shrugged, brushing it off. “Oh, yeah. She’s Saryn—serpent-kin, if the na didn’t give it away. She’s got these incredible bronze scales—really striking. She’s still adjusting to city life, though. Cos from so extended branch of the Sablethorn Sect. Used to live deep in Skal’Vareth Forest, apparently. When she first got here, she couldn’t stop gawking at everything. It was kind of adorable.”
Things were starting to line up. Sasha wasn’t playing dumb earlier—she genuinely seed out of her depth. But innocence and ignorance weren’t synonyms. Ti to dig a little deeper.
“She sounds interesting,” I offered, leaning forward just slightly. “It must be refreshing, having soone like that in your circle. A grounding influence, maybe?”
Viera chuckled. “You could say that. She’s a breath of fresh air, honestly. Still figuring herself out, but it’s endearing. Lately, she’s been borrowing my books. Trying to pick up a new hobby, I think—alchemy, maybe? She’s been cagey about it, but I’m pretty sure that’s it. She even ntioned a ntor. Honestly, I’m happy for her. Maybe she’ll whip up sothing to surprise on my birthday.”
Cute. The word curdled in my mind. Alchemical texts. A shadow tutor. Mirror-summoning supplies slithering into her satchel. Her forest roots explained the black-market blunders, but not the why. Why Parda pollen? Why now? The equation refused to balance—yet.
"That’s generous of you, sharing your books," I said smoothly, my tone light but carefully calibrated. “You must trust her quite a bit.”
Viera blinked, tilting her head with faint curiosity. “Of course. She’s even helping with the ball—got her ntor involved too. Said I should let her shoulder so of the burden. So yeah, I trust her. Why?”
The more she spoke, the more my suspicions twisted, tangling into a web that refused to unravel.
“Oh, no reason,” I said quickly, standing and brushing nonexistent dust off my sleeves. My mind, however, raced. The mont she ntioned Sasha’s ntor being involved with preparations, alarm bells rang loud and clear. It was too close to my theory—that soone was nudging Sasha toward a mirror summoning, or worse. “rely making conversation. People rarely hold my interest, but yours? They’re… quirky.” I let the word dangle, harmless as a cobweb.
Through my air sense, I caught the faint movents of Belle, balancing a tea tray on her back and beginning to approach. I flicked my gaze in her direction and shook my head subtly. She stopped imdiately, retreating without a sound. Good girl.
anwhile, my hands drifted toward the alchemy apparatus on the workbench, fingers deftly finding three vials in an open drawer. I let out a small, deliberate sigh. “What’s taking so long?” I called, faux irritation sharpening my tone, glancing toward the adjoining kitchen. Belle lingered there, waiting. “Belle, you brewing a novel back there?”
The real reason for my caution? Mirror summonings weren’t just complicated—they were dangerous. For , they’d been laughably simple because I’d offered my own dragon blood, which Lotte once compared to a thousand small sacrifices wrapped in one neat package. Plus, the ritual I used had been designed by Lotte herself, a masterstroke of efficiency and cost-effectiveness.
But whoever was attempting one here? They wouldn’t have my advantages. They’d need a power source to sustain the ritual. If Sasha’s ntor was involved, and if my instincts about their intentions were right, they’d already started laying the groundwork.
I moved toward the tea tray where Belle waited, pretending to inspect it. Viera, anwhile, had returned her focus to my notes, her alchemical curiosity getting the better of her. Those notes were practically gold to soone like her—irresistible.
Quietly, I uncapped the vials and added precise amounts to Viera’s tea. Quartz scale extract, charged in sunlight. One drop. Piezoelectric properties. Moonwater, three drops. Influences circadian rhythms. Lodestone liver extract, trace amount. Earth-aligned. Zero outer resonance.
A simple concoction, but a telling one. This mixture was part of a project I’d been chipping away at—an attempt to study my own dinsional resonance, disrupted by my Dinsional Lamina’s sync with the Shadow Dinsion. The instability allowed to phase and beco intangible, a true ghost dragon, but keeping physical objects intact during the process… Didn't work. The eventual goal? Clothing and charms that would stick with during transitions. For now, the compound was experintal, but it worked well enough as a diagnostic tool for detecting resonance anomalies.
Once the tea was ready, I stirred it gently and carried the tray out myself. “Here you go,” I said, handing Viera her cup.
I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a faint shimr of instability, a flicker of irregular resonance at best.
But the mont Viera’s lips touched the tea, the reaction was instant.
Her teacup shivered, subtle, serpentine ripples skating across the surface. The air around her warped, a heat haze born of dinsional dissonance. My pulse spiked. Oh, this wasn’t supposed to happen. My compound wasn’t a litmus test; it was a goddamn alarm bell.
Viera’s resonance wasn’t just unstable…
It was infected.
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