"Are your footsteps silent?" Exclaimed Parek.
"I've been told that. So? Can I come along?" Vilaya asked.
"Sure. I certainly can't stop you." Mazran replied with a shrug.
"Where is the library?" Asked Parek.
"Yes. About that.." Mazran said, pulling out the map from his pocket.
"Let's go. It's right around the corner from here." He replied.
As they turned the corner from the mess hall, a building sprawled out in front of them, spreading across hundreds of meters in a single file, with a cylindrical construct as its centerpiece.
The library!
Mazran swiped his ID through the owl statuette at the library entrance and entered.
"Welcome. New students I see." Said the librarian, a young man in his twenties, with black hair and a pronounced brow. "Here to register your IDs with the library?"
"Is that something we have to do?" Asked Mazran.
"Yes indeed. Didn't you read the guide?" The librarian asked.
"Well then, can we get it done now, Mr..." Mazran read the name on the librarian's desk ornament.
'Mr. Cher Das'. Odd name for a Rhailan.
As if noticing his gaze, he explained,
"I'm from the Southern Isles of Wajla."
"How did you come to work here?" Parek asked.
"My father came here after being stranded in a shipwreck. A magus from the academy found him and offered him a job here. And then I was born. The usual." He said, handing us the registration forms.
There's nothing usual about that story! It's most unusual. Does everyone have fantastical backstories here or was he just good at finding the oddballs? Mazran thought.
"Neither. It's not that eccentric people tend to become magi but rather that those who become magi also tend to be a bit eccentric." Said the librarian.
"You...how? Did I say that out loud?" Mazran asked.
"Say what out loud?" Said Parek.
Then it clicked.
"You're a psychic!" He exclaimed.
"Psychic! Where? Him?" Parek cried, placing his hands on his head, "You won't mind control me!"
"If he wanted to control you, you wouldn't be able to stop him." said Vilaya.
"And my contract with the academy forbids me doing it." He added, before turning to Mazran.
"And you, shorty! You sure caught on quick! Most students take nearly a week to figure it out. Here, take this." Said Cher, throwing a crystalline bead at him.
Mazran caught it mid air and inspected it.
"A magic crystal! For free?" Mazran asked, delighted.
Magic crystals were one of three currencies most commonly used in the world alongside Gold and Permian gram ingots. Just one magic crystal was worth the same as a ten thousand gold coins. And that was just the set conversion value. Its actual value was closer to roughly 30000 gold coins due two a mix of reasons. First was its rarity. Most common people could spend their whole lives not ever seeing one. Even the merchant guilds would only hold a hundred or so of them in total.
They were most commonly used in the world of magi. Trade, advancement, artifact crafting and potioneering all required their use.
Second was that their value was constant, unchanging. Even when the value of gold and grain fluctuated wildly, the value of magic crystals remained the same so long as the magic within wasn't drained. This made them a vital insurance against inflation. Even if some crazy alchemist decided to flood the market with gold, those who held magic crystals would be secure in their wealth. Thus, Mazran didn't believe anyone would give away something like that for free.
"Yes. For free. It's a tradition of mine. Every term I give one magic crystal to the first student to figure out my race."
"Where's mine?" Asked Parek.
"You, fatso, didn't figure it out, so you don't get it."
"Come on! Can't you give me one too."
"No. And that's final. And stop thinking about getting hit in the nuts. It's annoying."
"I mean it to be!" Replied Parek.
"Stop it. Don't bully the librarian." Mazran pinched his arm.
"Ouch!" Cried Parek.
"I'm sorry for his actions." Said Mazran apologizing to Cher.
"I understand. People always have that sort of a reaction when they learn about my heritage. I'm almost used to it by now." Cher replied, his expression one of resignation than sadness.
Mazran felt bad for the man. To be ostracized for having power was a rare thing in the modern age. Power was a thing of celebration now. But there were exceptions. Magi being the sort to value freedom and knowledge above all else were understandably sour with the Agyol, who held the power to steal from them exactly that.
He was surprised that they would be so open minded as to employ one in their library, a most holy place for magi.
But then again, this was the same academy that forced underachievers into becoming guinea pigs for their research, so maybe that was why they had hired him.
As Mazran wondered, Vilaya brought the conversation back on track.
"Can I get a registration form now?" Asked Vilaya.
"Certainly. Here. Fill these in and we can get you on register."
Cher said, handing them the registration forms.
"There are pens over there." He added, pointing to a mug filled with fountain pens, "and don't steal them. I have my eyes on you."
"People do that?" Mazran asked.
"They do. More than you think even. Now go and be quick about it. I have to go for lunch too." He answered.
Mazran nodded and joined the other two by the pens to fill out his form.
As they filled out the forms, Mazran asked.
"How many books can I borrow at a time?"
"Can I get spell books?" Interjected Parek.
"You can borrow 3 books at a time. As for spell books, there is no such thing as a spell book. There are, however spell models. Lots of them. But you can't access them yet. You'll have to pass the biannual certification before you can apply for them. Even then, as acolytes, you can only have one spell model a month. Moreover, you don't get access to all the spellwork resources like sacrificial rituals and summoning chants until you pass a secondary certification after becoming a magus. We take the safety of our members as an utmost priority. Wouldn't want anyone to explode themselves because they flubbed a pronunciation of a spell by a bit now would we?" He explained.
Vilaya chuckled at the thought of people exploding as Mazran looked at Cher with confusion.
"Does that really happen?" He asked.
"Not very often. But it's better to be safe than sorry." Cher replied.
"What are the requirements for the certification?"
"There are five for the primary and eight for the secondary.
For the primary, you must have a good command over Guinar, the standardized languange of magic, for one. You also need to understand the use of materials and substances. Your labwork must be up to standard. You also have to be able to turn your spiritual force malleable to the 5th degree at least."
"That's four. Weren't there 5 requirements?" Asked Parek.
Cher counted the requirements on his fingers and exclaimed,
"I'm sure there were five....uh.....Ah yes. There's also the condition that all examinees must be at least rank 1 acolytes. That's five right there."
"What about the secondary?" Asked Mazran.
"You'll get to know about it when you become a magus." Cher replied.
"I also had something else to ask about." Said Mazran.
"Ask away!" Said Cher.
"Do you know about the Multiversal Nexus?"
"I do know about it. But why do you want to know about it?" Cher inquired with a scowl, his hand reaching below his desk for something.
Mazran saw the clear change in demeanor and alarmed, added, "I heard about it from Mr.Ghazbi in the labs. I was just curious! Please don't be mad."
Cher seemed to calm down at his confession.
"It's nothing you need to know about yet. You'll only be looking for unnecessary trouble." Cher advised.
"If you say so." Mazran complied. Inside though Mazran grew evermore curious about it. If no one was willing to tell him about it, he'd just have to find out some other way. For now, he focused on filling the form.
Once they had filled their forms, they handed them over to Cher who filed them into a folder in his desk before turning back to them.
"Hand over your ID imprints. I'll update them." He said.
They handed over their IDs and Cher picked up an implement that looked like a carving gouge with a needle at it's tip.
He cast a spell on the gouge and glided it across the chalk white tiles.
On the tiles, correspondingly, fragmented dashes of red appeared at one end. Once he was finished he handed them back and asked,
"Anything else before I leave?"
"Yes." Said Mazran, " I'd like a book. It's a poem by the name of 'The Epic of Ojewas The Free'. Is it available here?"
Cher pulled out a slate made of a pitch black obsidian like material and a blood red metallic pen. Pressing the pen onto the slate, it lit up. Cher wrote something onto it and pressed the pen onto it again.
A list popped into view showing three entries.
"There are 3 copies in store. Do you want one?" Cher asked.
"Yes." Said Mazran.
"And one for me too." Interjected Parek.
"So two of them? You don't want one?" He said looking at Vilaya.
"Nah. I'm fine." She said.
"Go to the third aisle in the fifth line. Its in the shelf second from the bottom."
Mazran looked at the floor, noticing lines drawn on it, leading down the shelves, each labelled with a number.
Mazran walked over, counting the lines.
"1...2...3....4...5." He turned into the aisle, as Parek followed.
"1...2....3..... here." Said Mazran stopping at the third aisle. He checked the shelves.
History-12 said one. Formations-3 said another.
History it was. Mazran kneeled at the foot of the giant shelf and looked at the one second from below.
"O...o....o...ao...ao....no. It's probably back there." He said tracing the books with his fingers.
He started from the beginning and went through the shelf again. He couldn't find it.
"Maybe it is up ahead. O and Wo were interchangeable in the old tongue." Said Vilaya.
"How do you know that?" Asked Parek.
"My father taught me." She answered.
Mazran hobbled over to the section with 'wo' and started tracing his finger along the books.
"Wo...wo...wo....wo....there." he said.
Ojewas The Liberator - An Epic. The title was indeed spelled in the old tongue. Mazran didn't recognize a couple of letters on the cover at first. The symbol for 'as' was far more twisty than he knew it to be. Free was even replaced with liberator.
"This is different from what you read isn't it?" Asked Mazran.
"Mine was bright red and gold. In the new tongue. It wasn't nearly as thick neither." Parek answered, hefting the thick tome in blue dyed leather.
"Let's get back." Said Vilaya.
"Uh huh." Said Mazran, struggling under the book's weight.
"A bit heavier than you're used to, I see." Cher commented as they walked back over to the desk.
"Uhmf.." said Mazran, putting the book onto the librarian's desk, "Say, how many books can I borrow at a time?"
"Three. But seeing as how you can barely hold onto that one, I'd advise against getting more." He replied, writing down our choices and added, "Return the books by next week. Otherwise there'll be a fine of one magic crystal per week after."
"That's way too steep. I have a total of one magic crystal!" Mazran protested.
"And I don't even have any!" Parek added.
"Then you'll just have to return it in time. You can always reborrow it." Cher retorted.
"I suppose..." Mazran yielded.
"Well then now that you are done, I'm going for lunch and you little rapscalions, can get out of my library."
Cher whistled loud and walked out his desk.
A tiptapping noise sounded out from the shelves as two foxes ran out and arrived by the desk.
"I'm going for lunch. Keep watch, would you?" Said Cher.
The bigger of the two foxes nodded and jumped onto the desk, followed by the smaller one. They snuggled onto the countertop and turned to watch the door.
Mazran looked ubeasily at the beasts, rubbing his hands. He had once been bitten by the creatures on an outing with his father, which led him to develop a violent fever. Since then he couldn't look at them the same. He retreated away from the foxes and looked at Cher inquisitively.
"They are the head librarian's contracted familiars. Don't worry. They won't bite. Not unless you are causing them or the library any harm." Cher replied.
"I'll just leave now. Thanks for the help." Said Mazran, heaving the book up as he rushed out.
"Wait for me." Said Parek.
"Bye." Said Vilaya, waving at Cher and the foxes.