Theobservatoryoffersmethe solitude that I had been hoping to find in the library, but now I’m left wondering if I actually wanted to be left alone with only my own thoughts for company. Not after hours of them tearing through me, forcing me to imagine every possible outcome of our conversation in the library.
I would go and attempt to locate Marvin, but he shares a room with Byron and at this hour I’m sure that both of them are in there, probably sleeping.
Like I should be.
I sigh, tilting back my head as I look up at the domed ceiling of the observatory, located at the very edge of the academy, the ceiling and circular walls of this room show the sky beyond as if there is no boundary standing between me and the stars. And yet when I reach my hand out, it meets cool stone instead of wispy cloud.
From here the stars seem so close, sparkling like a thousand jewels. I bet those stars aren’t wondering if holding onto their dream is going to be the one thing that destroys them.
I can’t get the look in Byron’s face after I told him that I saw him as a rival out of my mind. I’d often imagined how smug I would feel if I finally managed to strike Byron Coalbiter low, but I don’t feel smug at all.
You know I was just wondering yesterday why we never courted back in Woodsbury…
And then there is that statement. Had Byron been about to admit that he was starting to like me? I shake that thought out of my head. No, he told me that only to distract me.
Except he said it before he had any idea that I had designs on a knighthood with Menavillion.
I press my eyes shut and knock my forehead against the stone wall, when I open my eyes, I stare out at the stars only inches from my face. I feel a little like I should see my reflection the same way I would if I were viewing the stars through the pond back at home.
But no, these stars are a magical illusion of the sky, and the pond back home is miles away.
“I wish you would just show me what I truly want,” I whisper to the stars that aren’t even here, and even if they were they wouldn’t be able to help me anyway.
As the words escape my lips, I hear a slight fizzing sound; I look over my shoulder to see a trail of white mist leading from my feet and through the door. My mouth drops open with a near audible click as I realize that the academy must have thought that I was addressing it. I’m not sure how the mist is able to lead me to what I truly want or how it can intrinsically know what I want—especially when I don’t even know what I want—but I’m not about to argue with magic. Not when I’m feeling as lost as I currently am.
I step after the mist, following it and leaving the observatory behind. It weaves through the halls ahead of me, disappearing around a corner. I take off after it, running through the dark halls which are lit only by the faint glow of the white mist. I don’t even know if there is a curfew at this academy, but I may very well be breaking it.
I do my best to tread lightly on the stones, while still not sacrificing speed as I race to follow the white mist winding ahead of me. Suddenly the mist veers to the side and I look up to find myself once again standing outside the library doors.
“Oh, typical,” I mutter with a little shake of my head. I had meant a far more figurative need, but apparently the academy mistook my request. It isn’t going to provide me the answer of my problems, all it will do is remind me that I spent the day moping in an observatory and neither the patterns of the stars nor the birds flying past the academy are going to help me graduate this academy as Menavillion’s knight champion.
I sigh and push open the door because the academy isn’t actually wrong. I do need to study. Maybe I’ll grab a book on the history of high fae families and bring it back to my room to read. Assuming that Chastmir doesn’t oppose to me using my magic to dimly illuminate the room. I wonder how deep of a sleeper she is.
Marvin always slept through my late-night wanderings and habits. Indeed, I usually stayed up late at night because it was the only time my magic was even useful. Nobody needs a glowing orb in broad daylight.
I frown as I step through the library because the mist doesn’t immediately disappear like it did when it led me here earlier or when it brought me to the banquet hall. Instead, it continues onward and disappears behind a shelf.
“Odd,” I mutter to myself as I step after it. Perhaps there is a particular book it wants me to read. Maybe one on finding your purpose when you feel bad because your rival wants the same thing that you do, and he was actually a sort of nice guy before he became your rival. I’m not sure if I’ll find something half as specific as that, but I don’t know all the books this library carries. Most of them are probably on tactics and fae etiquette and histories because those are the things that a knight champion will need the most, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that those are the only books here.
After all, this one room contains more books than all of Woodsbury. I think I’ve read all the books our small town has to offer three times over. It will take me some time to do the same here, and I probably won’t have time to do so between my attempts to best Byron and gain Menavillion’s favor, but I do hope to be able to discover some new adventures.
I always liked the books with knight heroes best, but maybe that was because of my ambitions.
I round the bookshelf and draw to a sudden halt. “Oh,” I gasp out. The sound penetrating the still air. My hand flies to my mouth to stifle myself, but I’m too late and Byron sits up stirring from where he had been laying slumped over a round table toward the back of the library. A piece of paper is sticking to his cheek as he blinks around blearily.
My eyes dart down to the white mist then back up to Byron, then down to the mist then back up to Byron. I’m hoping for the mist to suddenly change directions and lead off into a section of the library, but it remains exactly where it is. Leading straight up to the table and disappearing near Byron’s boots.
I swallow hard. “It’s you.”
“Lo?” Byron asks his voice husky. He reaches up to rub at his face, dislodging the paper, but his face is riddled with red imprints from the wood of the table. He exhales loudly as he glances down at the table and then back at me. “I must have fallen asleep…what hour is it?”
“Late,” I reply softly. My mind is refusing to process anything.
I’d asked to be led toward what I truly wanted. And it brought me toByron?
Oh, Maker, this academy is trying to play games with my head. Except the academy isn’t actually sentient, and the mist is a mere enchantment. What reason would either of them have to fool me?
Much like a fae that has been trapped by his words, things that don’t live cannot lie.
