"You were about to step in before I arrived," Genji said with a nod, the emblem of House Terra gleaming on the Visionary's cloak draped across his shoulders. "That was truly noble of you, Gryffindor-san. The mark of a true warrior lies in the compulsion to protect others, even at personal risk."
Godric rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "That's… kind of you to say, Genji. I just couldn't stand there and do nothing," he said, his voice steady but humble. "But those students—who were they? I've never seen them before. You called them Scholomance?"
Genji nodded, his expression darkening slightly. "Yes, a rival magical academy located far to the north of here. Cearleon, being a hub city, sees visitors from all corners of the realm. Unfortunately, that includes students from the Scholomance Institute Of Magic."
Raine's ears perked up, her curiosity evident. "A rival academy?" she asked.
"Indeed," Genji replied, his tone calm but tinged with distaste. "Scholomance has a… controversial reputation, to put it mildly. Unlike Excalibur, which prides itself on merit and diversity, Scholomance only admits Purebloods—those born from unbroken magical lineage. They see themselves as superior to everyone else and often act accordingly. Their sense of entitlement breeds cruelty."
Godric's jaw tightened, his fists clenching instinctively. "That explains their behavior. Elaina didn't deserve that."
"No one does," Genji said, his gaze softening. "Their arrogance is a reflection of their institution. They carry themselves as though they are untouchable, but their lack of honor is their greatest flaw—and their undoing."
His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his katana. "Truthfully, Gryffindor-san, I remember you from the very first day of school. That sword on your back—it caught my eye. A weapon of that craftsmanship… it is no ordinary blade. It feels almost mythical," he said. "But I was more intrigued by the one who wielded it."
Godric blinked in surprise. "Me? I'm just… a student trying to get by. Nothing special."
Genji's lips curved into a faint smile. "Humble, yet resolute. I respect that." His eyes sharpened slightly, his voice taking on a weightier tone. "Your duel at The Congregation. I regret not being there to witness it firsthand, but what I've heard only confirms my deductions—you possess untapped potential, Gryffindor-san. Raw and unrefined, yes, but formidable nonetheless."
Godric felt a flush of pride and uncertainty. "That means a lot, coming from you, Genji. I still have a lot to learn, though."
"As do we all. However…" Genji's eyes narrowed. "I was indeed present during your duel with Cú. Having witnessed your swordsmanship firsthand, your skills and technique were… sloppy at best. Unorthodox, yes, but riddled with flaws."
Godric bristled, his shoulders squaring as he frowned. "But I bested Cú, didn't I? Surely that counts for something!"
"Bested?" Genji raised a single eyebrow. He shook his head slowly. "That is certainly not how I recall it, Gryffindor-san. In truth, you had to be rescued by Culaan-san. And let us not forget…" His words laden with meaning. "You were using Vis Vitalis, despite being woefully unprepared. And yet, even with such an advantage, you failed to see that Cú was matching you blow for blow—without it."
Godric froze, his retort caught in his throat.
Genji continued. "Had it been a true life-or-death battle, on equal terms…" He paused, his hazel eyes locking with Godric's. "You would not have survived."
The words hung in the air like a cold wind, cutting deeper than any blade. Godric's fists clenched at his sides, his pride bruised by Genji's critique. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to protest, he couldn't deny the truth in his words. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere—what began as praise now carried the weight of warning.
Beside him, Raine sensed his turmoil. Her golden eyes softened as she tightened her grip on his arm, silently offering her support.
"Treat every battle as if it were your last, Gryffindor-san," Genji said. "Remember, it is not the warrior with the most skills who prevails, but the one who fights with purpose—the one willing to risk everything for those they hold dear."
"I—" Godric began, but Genji raised a hand, halting him mid-sentence. His expression softened, his tone losing its sharp edge.
"Do not take this as discouragement," Genji continued. "For that is not my intention. Consider it a lesson—a gift. You have potential, but potential without refinement is like an untampered blade. Train diligently. Hone your instincts. Master your craft. Only then will you truly earn the right to call yourself a warrior."
Godric drew a deep breath, forcing himself to unclench his fists. Though his pride smarted, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude beneath the sting of Genji's words. The young man's critique was not meant to wound—it was meant to forge.
"I understand," he said finally. "Thank you, Genji. I'll keep your words in mind."
Genji inclined his head slightly, his hazel eyes glinting with approval. "Good. Remember, Gryffindor-san, strength alone will never define a warrior. It is how you use it that truly matters."
He then took a measured step back, his hand still resting lightly on the hilt of his katana. "Think on my words, Gryffindor-san, and perhaps one day our blades will meet. Whether as allies or adversaries… only time will tell." He bowed slightly, his movements graceful and deliberate, then nodded to Raine before turning and walking away, his silken robes flowing behind him like a whisper of wind.
Godric watched Genji's retreating figure, his crimson eyes wide with lingering awe. "Blimey, Raine…" he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I think I've just been thoroughly schooled."
"You're still learning, Godric," Raine said softly, squeezing his arm in encouragement. Her golden eyes shimmered with warmth as they followed Genji until he disappeared around a corner. "And I believe in you."
She hesitated for a moment, then added, "I've heard the students refer to him by another name. They call him… The Blade of Terra."
Godric's brows rose, and he let out a low whistle. "That's… quite the title. No pressure, huh?" He ran a hand through his crimson hair, chuckling nervously.
Raine's lips curled into a cheeky smile. "Well, The Lion of Ignis does have its charms. It has a certain… flair to it. Makes you sound so… dashing."
Godric's face flushed crimson, and he cleared his throat loudly. "Well… enough about titles and swords," he said, his voice slightly higher than usual. "Let's not keep Professor Workner waiting. Come on, Raine, we've got books to fetch."
Raine giggled, her tail wagging as she fell into step beside him. "Lead the way, oh dashing Lion of Ignis."
Godric groaned, but a small smile tugged at his lips as they continued toward the bookstore.
****
The pair strolled along the lively street, the hum of Caerleon's bustling marketplace a constant melody around them. Vibrant market stalls and enchanted shopfronts lined the way, each promising a glimpse of wonder, until they stopped before a quaint and inviting storefront. The building exuded an old-world charm, its facade made of weathered stone and dark, polished timber. Above the doorway, a carved wooden sign hung slightly askew, its letters gilded in gold leaf that caught the slanting rays of the autumn sun. The words Spindles & Spells shimmered faintly, as if imbued with a touch of magic.
The scent of aged parchment and ink wafted from the doorway, mingling with the crisp autumn air. Through the large, paned glass window, the treasures within beckoned—a labyrinth of shelves brimming with books, tomes, and scrolls of every imaginable size and color. Some books glowed faintly; their spines marked with runes that shifted like whispers of light. Others bore leather bindings so ancient they seemed ready to crumble into dust. Scrolls tied with silk ribbons sat nestled in carved cubbies, their edges glinting faintly as though eager to share their secrets.
The warm, inviting interior was softly lit by floating lanterns, their golden light illuminating the intricate carvings on the shelves. Small charms and trinkets dangled from hooks and corners, glinting like stars in the cozy twilight of the shop. The faint hum of enchantments lingered in the air, adding to the sense that this was not just a place for books, but a haven for those who sought the whispers of forgotten magic and hidden knowledge.
"Well, this seems to be the place," Godric said, grasping the door handle. As he pushed it open, a brass bell overhead rang out with a cheerful chime. He turned to Raine, bowing theatrically with a flourish. "After you, m'lady," he said, gesturing grandly.
Raine giggled, her cheeks tinged pink. "Thank you, kind sir," she said playfully before stepping inside as Godric followed close behind
Her golden eyes widened as she took in the towering shelves that reached all the way to the ceiling. "I've… I've never seen so many books in one place before!" she whispered, awe in her voice.
"Not even the school library?" Godric asked, amused by her reaction.
Raine fidgeted slightly, her fingers brushing the hem of her sleeves. "Well… slaves aren't allowed in the library. Rules, remember?" she said softly, her gaze drifting to the nearest shelf.
Godric's smile faltered for a moment, but he nodded. "Right. Well, let's make up for that today, shall we?" he said with a grin.
Behind the counter, a well-dressed goblin peered over a large tome, his sharp tangerine eyes twinkling with curiosity as he regarded the newcomers. He set his book aside and polished his half-moon glasses with a silken cloth before resting them on the countertop.
"Welcome to Spindles and Spells!" he greeted warmly, his deep voice carrying a debonair charm. "Quibble Scroll, at your service. How may I assist you today?" He flashed a sharp, toothy grin, his shark-like teeth gleaming.
As Raine wandered off to explore the shelves, Godric stepped closer to the counter, his gaze lingering on the goblin in surprise. Quibble's attire was striking: a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest, paired with silver earrings along his elongated, elf-like ears. His dark green skin gleamed faintly under the warm shop lights, and his long black hair, tied loosely at the back, gave him an air of effortless sophistication.
"Judging by the way you're staring, lad, I'd say this is your first time laying eyes on a goblin," Quibble said with a knowing grin. "Let me guess—you're from that human world?"
Godric blinked, embarrassed. "Yes—no—I mean…" He scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Apologies, Avalon is… very new to me."
Quibble chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "No need to apologize. Avalon's home to all sorts of magical folk. Believe me, you've barely scratched the surface." He clapped his hands together, his grin widening. "Now, how may I assist you, Mister…?"
"Gryffindor. Godric Gryffindor," he said, stepping up to the counter. "I'm here to pick up some books on Dungeon Delving, as well as a personal order. Professor Workner sent me."
Quibble's eyes lit up at the mention of the professor. "Ah, yes, Professor Norgram did call ahead. One moment, if you please!"
The goblin disappeared behind the counter, leaving Godric and Raine to explore the shop. Raine wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing reverently over the spines of countless tomes, each one a treasure waiting to be discovered.
Soon, Quibble reemerged, hefting a towering stack of wrapped books onto the countertop with an exaggerated grunt. "There you are!" he said, patting the stack with pride. "Quite the collection Workner's curated for you."
"By the Old Gods!" Godric's jaw dropped as he eyed the mountain of books. "That's… a whole lot of reading. I'll be graduating before I make it through all of these."
Quibble leaned in conspiratorially, his sharp teeth flashing in a grin. "Ah, Dungeon Studies is a fascinating subject, lad. In fact, many Excalibur graduates go on to become Delvers."
Godric blinked, confused. "Delvers?"
The goblin laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Ah, I forget how green you are. Delvers are adventurers who explore Dungeons—vast labyrinths filled with treasures, traps, and creatures most foul. A lucrative, if perilous, profession."
Godric tilted his head, intrigued. "I… have no idea what half of that means, but it sounds important."
Quibble's grin widened. "Don't worry, lad. Professor Norgram will tell you all about it in his class. But—" he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "—between you and me, your professor was quite the Delver in his day. One of the best. They say he conquered every known Dungeon in Avalon."
Godric's eyes widened. "Professor Workner? Really? I would've never guessed!"
The goblin's expression turned serious, his tangerine eyes gleaming. "And he's the only human to have ever earned the rank of a White Whistle."
"A White Whistle?" Godric echoed. "What's that? Sounds… important?"
Quibble smirked. "Let's just say it's the highest rank a Delver can achieve. Only seven individuals in all of Avalon have ever been recognized as one. They used to call him Workner the Annihilator."
"That's… ominous," Godric said, his tone uneasy.
Quibble chuckled darkly. "Ominous, aye, but well-earned. You're learning from a legend, Gryffindor. Don't take that for granted."
"I'll take your word for it, Quibble," Godric said with a smile. He suddenly perked up, as if remembering something. "Oh, by the way!" He glanced back at Raine, who was engrossed in examining a large globe at the center of the store. "Do you happen to have any storybooks? For… beginners, preferably."
Quibble tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. "Storybooks for begin—" His words trailed off as his sharp gaze landed on Raine. She was marveling at the globe, her fingers delicately tracing its textured surface, her golden eyes filled with wonder. It seemed as though she were trying to locate a specific place, though the concept of the world beyond the castle was still so new to her.
"Ah," Quibble said, his voice softening with understanding. "I see." A knowing smile spread across his face. "Follow me, lad. I have just the thing." He gestured with a clawed finger for Godric to follow.
"Raine, stay put," Godric called over his shoulder as he followed Quibble. "I'll be right back."
Raine turned her head, giving him a quick nod and a smile before turning her attention back to the globe. She seemed entirely captivated, her curiosity about the vastness of the world evident in the way her hands moved across its surface.