The library smelled like dust, ink, and judgment.
Lysara exhaled the moment she crossed the threshold, shoulders easing like the room itself had nodded approval. Tall shelves rose in careful rows, light filtered through high windows, and every sound—every breath—felt politely discouraged.
Tessa stopped just inside the door, lowering her voice without thinking. “I love this place.”
Rowana squinted at the shelves. “It hates me.”
“That’s because you treat silence like a challenge,”.
“I treat silence like an obstacle, one that exists to be conquered.”
They claimed a table near the back, wedged between reference shelves and a tall potted fern that had clearly outlived several students. Lysara set her books down gently, aligning the edges without realizing she was doing it.
“Alchemy texts are in the east wing,” she murmured. “Cross-indexed by compound family.”
Tessa blinked. “How do you know that?”
Lysara hesitated. “I… read the signs.”
Lysara quietly opened one of her own texts. She didn’t read straight through. Instead, she began noting references in the margins—index numbers, related volumes, cross-citations that repeated across chapters. Plants mentioned alongside abnormal growth. Beasts referenced in studies that stopped short of conclusions. Threads that brushed the edges of something unnamed.
Rowana returned some time later, arms stacked with books, and dropped into her chair with a soft thud.
Before she could speak, a shadow fell across the table.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“All bags on the floor,” a voice whispered sharply. “No food. No liquids. No exceptions.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tessa whispered instantly.
Rowana lowered her bag inch by inch. “Hypothetically—”
“No!”
“Worth checking.”
The woman’s gaze slid to Lysara.
Something changed.
Her expression froze. She stepped closer, eyes moving over Lysara’s face with unnerving patience. For a heartbeat, nothing surfaced—then her brows lifted sharply, her eyes widening as if a half-forgotten memory had finally snapped into place.
“You,” she said softly. “Black Hollow.”
“Yes.”
Valos’s girl.”
“You know Valos?”
The librarian sniffed. “Know is generous. He owed late fees. Repeatedly.”
“And,” the librarian continued, “he once brewed me a salve that saved my left hand.” She flexed her fingers pointedly. “In return, I don’t ask unnecessary questions.”
Her gaze lingered on Lysara. “You may use the east wing.”
Rowana stared. “That’s it? That’s all it takes?”
“Competence,” the librarian said, already turning away. “And discretion.”
She paused. “And if you spill anything sticky on the tables again, you will be banned until graduation.”
Rowana opened her mouth.
Tessa kicked her under the table.
They waited until the librarian disappeared before Rowana leaned in, whispering, “I didn’t know you had connections.”
“I don’t, but apparently my mentor did.”
“The best kind, inherited favors. Zero effort.”
They settled in. Books opened. Notes spread. The world narrowed to margins and diagrams.
Tessa pointed at a passage and groaned. “I hate ethics class.”
Lysara nodded immediately. “It keeps asking questions that don’t have answers.”
Rowana scoffed. “I answered one honestly once.”
“And?” Tessa asked.
“They asked me to leave.”
“That explains a lot,” Tessa said.
“I’ve been working on control,” Tessa added, quieter now. “Low-output drills. No audience.”
“I read,” Lysara said. “Mostly. Outside class.”
Tessa smiled. “You do look less… braced in here.”
Rowana stretched, her chair creaking ominously. “I will never be happy somewhere that actively discourages speaking.”
A sharp tsk echoed from across the room.
Rowana winced. “They’re very good at that.”
Lysara glanced down at the open page before her, fingers resting lightly on the text. For the first time since arriving, she wasn’t watching exits. She wasn’t measuring eyes.
She was just… reading.
With people nearby.
That felt new.
And when the librarian passed again, she paused just long enough to murmur, “Your mentor had terrible handwriting.”
Lysara smiled despite herself.
