Chapter 32
I should have accepted Rhaevan's offer to guide me to my room.
That particular regret arrived after what I was fairly certain was an unreasonable amount of time spent wandering through corridors that all looked exactly the same.
I passed doors that led to places I had absolutely no use for and eventually found myself standing in front of one labeled:
Department of Advanced Spatial Distortions
I stared at the sign.
Then I read it again.
In my opinion, any institution that expected people to navigate safely should not have a department dedicated to distorting space.
I lingered outside the door for a moment, wondering what exactly happened in there.
Then I decided I did not want to know.
Whatever was occurring behind that door felt like the sort of thing that swallowed people whole and never returned so much as a sock.
I was fairly certain I would walk in, lose my soul, my sense of direction, and possibly several years of my life.
There probably wouldn't even be enough of me left to send to heaven.
I left immediately.
After what felt like an entire journey through architectural confusion, I finally found my room.
Martha had already arranged everything.
The bath was prepared.
The wardrobe was neatly organized.
To my mild surprise, there were gowns, and they were proper, comfortable gowns that did not appear to be actively trying to kill me.
"...Well," I muttered, stepping inside, "this is an upgrade."
I didn't even bother pretending to be composed.
I walked straight to the bed and slumped onto it, officially done with the day.
"My lady," Martha said calmly, as if I had not just been defeated by a building, "please freshen up. I will bring your supper."
"I'll eat here," I said without moving.
She nodded once and left.
I closed my eyes briefly.
"...Let's see what tomorrow ruins," I murmured.
The next morning arrived far too quickly.
I went through the required routine-washing, dressing, existing-and sat through a delicious breakfast with very little appetite.
Anxiety had a remarkable talent for ruining perfectly good food.
I was then directed to meet Rhaevan in one of the open training areas.
Which turned out to be beautiful.
The Tower stood on slightly elevated ground above the town, and this particular space opened into a quiet clearing.
Flowering plants lined the edges, and a narrow pebble path wound through them toward a small creek that ran gently along one side.
The soft murmur of water was the only sound in the otherwise open, still air.
The place was calm and peaceful.
Rhaevan was already there.
"Good morning," he said.
"What's so good about it?" I asked immediately.
He didn't react.
"Today," he said calmly, "we begin with understanding your magic."
"That sounds dangerous," I replied.
"It can be," he said. "That's why I'm here."
A faint smile appeared on his face, brief and controlled, before continuing,
"You will use your magic," he continued, "and I will make sure nothing-or no one-gets harmed."
I rolled my eyes.
"Comforting."
Then he stepped aside slightly, gesturing toward a section of the clearing where he had arranged a simple setup-a wooden stand with a few small objects placed on it.
"Start small," he said. "Move one of those objects toward you."
I looked at it. Then at him. Then back at it.
"Simple," I said.
I raised my hand and focused carefully, determined to keep everything under control.
Nothing happened.
I frowned and tried again.
This time, something did happen.
Unfortunately, it was not what I had intended.
The object didn't just move. It launched straight off the stand and hit the ground hard.
I looked at him.
"Try again," he calmly said.
I exhaled slowly and focused again.
This time everything moved.
Not one object.
But all of them simultaneously in different directions.
One hit the ground. One flew past me. One almost hit him.
He stepped aside easily, catching it mid-air with his own magic before it could collide with his face.
I dropped my hand immediately.
"Okay," I said. "That was an accident."
"You're panicking," he said.
"I am not panicking."
"You are."
"I am responding to the situation."
"That is panic."
I glared at him.
"This is exactly why I said this was a bad idea."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he stepped closer-not too close, just enough to bring his voice down slightly.
"Innate magic is not separate from you," he said. "It responds to what you feel. If you are tense, it becomes unstable. If you panic, it escalates."
I raised an eyebrow.
"So the solution is to not feel anything?"
"The solution is to recognize it," he said. "And control it."
I crossed my arms.
"Easy for you to say."
"I didn't say it was easy."
That was fair. I didn't like that it was fair.
We continued.
And by continued, I mean I failed repeatedly.
Every attempt either did nothing, did far too much, or produced something entirely unrelated to what I had intended.
Through it all, Rhaevan maintained what I could only describe as a carefully controlled level of patience, although it occasionally slipped just enough for him to run a hand over his face before composing himself again.
At one point, I accidentally cracked part of the wooden stand.
At another, I nearly sent a stone flying directly at him.
And at yet another, I simply gave up.
Briefly.
"This is not working," I declared.
"It is," he replied. "Just not in the way you want it to."
That was profoundly unhelpful.
Eventually, he took a small step back.
"That's enough for today."
Relief washed over me so quickly that I was fairly certain it showed on my face.
"Before tomorrow," he added, "you need to understand the theory."
I narrowed my eyes.
"...I don't like where this is going."
He didn't elaborate, simply turned and gestured for me to follow, as if I had any real choice in the matter.
I did follow reluctantly.
The library was not what I expected.
In an overwhelming, deeply unnecessary, why-do-you-need-this-much- knowledge kind of way.
The moment I stepped inside, I stopped.
Because this was not just a room filled with books.
This was a structure. An entire world contained within walls.
Shelves rose in tall, elegant spirals that stretched across multiple levels. Narrow staircases and floating walkways connected them, curving through the air as though they had been placed there by intention rather than architecture.
Every shelf was lined with books arranged so precisely that the place felt less like a library and more like a sanctuary built to preserve knowledge.
Soft golden lights hovered in midair and drifted gently from place to place, as though aware of movement.
They cast a warm glow across the shelves, never too bright and never too dim. Faint streams of magic ran along the edges of the structure like quiet currents, almost invisible unless you were paying close attention.
Even the air felt different here.
Still. As though even sound knew better than to disturb this place unnecessarily.
I looked around again, taking in the sheer scale of it, the endless rows of books, the height, the quiet, the faint hum of something that felt like knowledge being stored rather than simply written.
"...If I get lost here," I added, "I'm not coming back."
"You won't," he said calmly. "The library adjusts."
I turned slowly.
"...I don't like that."
He didn't respond. Very comforting.
We moved further inside, and I noticed that the sections were not labeled in any normal way.
No simple categories.
No obvious organization.
Instead, faint symbols glowed along the shelves, shifting slightly as we passed, like the library itself was deciding where things belonged rather than following any fixed system.
"It responds to magic," he said. "And intent."
"Of course it does."
I should stop being surprised.
We stopped near a quieter section, slightly removed from the main structure, where the shelves were lower, the lighting softer, and the arrangement-
simpler.
"You'll start with this," he replied.
He lifted his hand slightly.
And instead of pulling something from thin air-
a book slid out from a nearby shelf.
Smoothly. Effortlessly. Like it had been waiting.
It hovered for a brief second before settling into his hand.
He turned and held it out to me.
I took it.
"That will help you understand how to regulate your magic," he said. "Read it."
"Fine," I said.
"We continue tomorrow," he added.
"I'm looking forward to it," I replied flatly.
He nodded once.
And that was that.
On my way back, I glanced down at the book.
I read the title.
Stopped walking.
Read it again, my eyes twitching.
"...You have got to be kidding me."
"You two-timing, manipulative, monkey-faced-" I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on the book as I resumed walking. "This is what you give me?"
I flipped it open..Closed it again.
"No," I said. "I refuse to read it."
And then continued walking back to my room holding the book.
Because unfortunately I was going to read it.