After finishing her talk with the personnel of the grand library, Melan returned to the asleep Tundra, whose breathing had stabilised. She no longer frowned, but still she would not arouse from her deep slumber.

  Niran touched her friend’s forehead and closed her eyes. Her fingertips glowed crimson and black. Tiny strings carefully slipped under Tundra’s skin, exploring her magic’s pathway for anomalies. They lightly probed the pathway until Tundra winced in discomfort; Niran held her breath and, her face pale, forcefully retracted her power.

  Melan sighed. “Niran, you shouldn’t overdo it.”

  “I have to try. I might be able to help her, even if a little.”

  “She’s in no immediate danger. If we let her rest, she’ll naturally recover.”

  “Then where is Lady Iris?”

  Melan gave a silent pause. She glanced at where Iris should be before she returned to her student. “She’s investigating the cause of this accident.”

  “What happened?”

  “She accidentally fell into a subspace, an inheritance of an ancient Mage.”

  “An inheritance within the grand library?”

  “A few have surfaced in the past decades. Our Tundra sure is lucky.”

  A murmur interrupted the conversation. Tundra shifted her posture as if struggling to wake up from a nightmare. Her eyelids trembled. Her magic increased its flow within her body, glowing faintly under her skin. Soft, wintry blue radiated from her chest, its origin at her heart.

  The surroundings dropped in temperature, causing Niran who was standing close to instinctively step away. She resisted the cold and moved to figure out her friend’s condition, but her teacher had already passed her.

  Melan injected a wisp of green spirit into Tundra. The coldness within her lessened as her heart beat wilder. She no longer struggled, even flashing a gentle, carefree smile.

  “She’s passed the critical phase,” Melan said. “How’s your search, Miss Iris?”

  With sunken eyes, Iris entered the lounge, smiled at Niran and Melan, and arrived before her sleeping pupil. She stopped Melan from asking about her condition before, pressing her index and middle fingers at her heart, she mumbled inaudibly.

  As she drew away her fingers. Red affectionate ink connected her heart with her fingertips. She painted her lips with it and leaned down to kiss her sleeping beauty.

  There was a flash of crimson scream, a tide of pure darkness and brightest light. It exploded forth, but due to an invisible force it was halted and dragged back. Iris violently shivered, her face pale. She bit her tongue until it splattered into slime.

  Her liquid, leaking from her mouth, tainted Tundra’s cheek. It dripped onto her uniform, drying it not blood-red but rose-pink. Iris stepped away while wiping the stain on her face, holding an unreadable smile.

  Niran gasped. She stared at her friend’s lips, how they became wet when pressed by another pair, how soft and tender they must have felt. She instinctively touched her own, her mind wandering to somewhere forbidden.

  “That was quite a strange ritual,” Melan said.

  “Please excuse my impertinence.”

  “I … have never heard of such a method.”

  “The world is endless and enigmatic; so is the magic within.” Iris smiled. “Are there not already beings of desires and intimacy?”

  Melan took a deep breath. “Their origin is transcendental. How could you replicate their ability?”

  “A mere apology, nothing worth praising.”

  “Lady Iris.” Niran regained her composure. “You replicated the power of the Corrupted Ones?”

  “Would you like to experience it yourself?”

  Niran nervously shook her head. “I … please don’t tease me like that.”

  Iris giggled. “Such a feat is at the height of the grandest myth. I am not that arrogant, Niran.”

  Despite the clear tone, Niran could hear a hint of mischief. She stared into Iris’s sincere eyes but found nothing but the deep oceanic shades. There was nothing she could do except put away her unreasonable thoughts and focus on her recovering best friend.

  The library personnel arrived accompanied by multiple mages. They apologised to the group, examined Tundra, and requested Melan’s assistance locating the interdimensional rift. The space-typed mages scanned through the library for specific energy signatures while Melan directed them.

  Holding Tundra, Iris whispered a soundless chant. Her eyes traced an unseen line, which drew onto the world outline of a pale tome. It floated before her, overlooking the material realm from a land beyond its reach.

  The pages casually unfolded. The front matter contained the title and the author, though written in language unknowable.

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  Iris narrowed her eyes. A creeping sensation pricked her soul. Piercing gazes from nowhere fell on her, staring through her, observing her every minutia. They slipped past her human disguise, cut through her thin, slimy membrane, and forced their way to her naked consciousness.

  Murmurs of infinite meanings, at once and always, resounded like a stirring tide of the river of time.

  “Found it!” Melan pointed at an ordinary bookshelf. A burst of orange flare shot from her fingertip, striking an invisible curtain.

  Cracks in reality spread, a dark underground hall choked full of dust and decay. Crimson torches lit themselves and opened a path to a gigantic gate adorned with golden crystals and dark rubies.

  The mages constructed a barrier, and the personnel reported to the authority, walling the area with invisible powers of the overseeing formation.

  Melan came to the absent-minded Iris. “You were right, Iris. It was really an opportunity.”

  Iris lost her focus. The clamouring world ceased its incessant murmurs. The rising tide of past and future receded into the land unreachable; the mysterious book dispersed as faint glows.

  “It’s marvellous,” Iris said. “An impossible architecture.”

  Melan nodded. “A virtual realm, prized creation of a True Master. I wonder whether any of us will be able to reach that pinnacle of magic?”

  Iris smiled in silence. She stroked her Tundra’s cheek, turned around, and left the library with Melan. The personnel escorted them to an exclusive lounge, where a Grandmaster Curse Master examined Tundra.

  “How was she?” Melan said.

  “The curse energy has already faded,” the expert said. “There will be no long-term effect. In fact, the energy mixed with her spirit might bring unexpected benefits.”

  “Will there be any problem?”

  “Her control over her power may temporarily decrease. However, she should regain full control in no time.”

  Once her pupils were safe, Melan guided Iris to the main gate of the academy. A few people wandered in and out, but none could pull her from her future colleague.

  “Thank you, Miss Iris,” Melan said. “I may be weak, but my speciality is the magic of life.”

  “I only did what was necessary.”

  “When you … kissed Tundra, your life force rapidly decreased. You hid the fluctuation under your smile, but I managed to sense it, even if for an instant.”

  “She was mine, Melan.”

  Iris left without looking back. She could sense Melan’s gaze on her back slowly lifting as Melan returned to tend to her two pupils. Moreover, an opportunity to explore an inheritance ground was exceedingly rare.

  Once her friend disappeared back into the academy, Iris took a forceful step. Her heels clicked the ground, pressing against a manifesting circle of light. An invisible mist concealed her surroundings. She carefully halted, her body melting like snow before the sun.

  “She wouldn’t have refused,” Black Light said. “And you wouldn’t have to suffer.”

  “How could I show my weakness to my admirer?”

  “There would be no better treatment than her vitality. Is that not her speciality?”

  Iris held her dripping slime on her hands, raised them above her head, and poured them down her morphing face. Her translucent slime sculpted itself into a saintly masterpiece.

  Dark crimson shade mixed with her excess slime; she wiped it with her hand and, resisting the urge to lick it, cleaned it with a handkerchief.

  “This much is nothing,” she said. “Devoria will not touch what’s mine.”

  “Always so stubborn, Dear.” Black Light reached from behind Iris, caressing the newly formed cheeks. “That stubbornness may have already influenced me.”

  Pairs of black wings enveloped Iris. She turned her head around, enough for Black Light to kiss her deeply. Iris relaxed and closed her eyes, indulging in the wetness and the softness. A heaviness binding her spirit lessened, while the black redness marks on her soul partially transferred to her newest partner.

  Black Light stepped away from Iris, licking her lips, savouring the strawberry flavour coating her tongue. Her wings spasmed, dissolving into blood vapours.

  “You’re an impossibility, Iris,” Black Light said. “Even I can hardly withstand this curse.”

  “She must be too terrified of shattering me. After all, I am fragile beyond belief.”

  The illusory magic beneath Iris’s feet cracked. It imploded when Iris returned to her cool demeanour, with it was Black Light. Only the phantom of her knowing smile lingered.

  The carriage from The Court arrived on time. Iris made her way through the crowded street. The ordinary and the unfamiliar surrounded her. She inhaled and exhaled, the cool midday air coursing through her lungs.

  Lorient, Secain, Barineer, Antina, they all were not by her side. She was, briefly, alone with her thoughts. The rest of the world moved while she was motionless. Mortals and mage apprentices walked past her, unable to sense her negligible presence.

  She raised her head to gaze upon the bright blue sky, upon the burning sun, upon the all-encompassing firmament which her enhanced vision could not see.

  There was comfort in knowing all she held dear were insignificant, that they mattered so little in the grandest creation, that they would live their lives drifting through the endless, unfathomable ocean.

  How enviable. She was a wanderer, yet she could not choose her destination.

  Am I getting tired? How wonderful must it be to leave behind everything?

  But running away was not what she would do. She could never abandon them, not when she had wished so dearly to have them.

  “Indeed, you should not give up what’s yours.”

  The barrier between the world and her shattered. A lady in a blood-dried cloak was before Iris, staring at her with eyes obscured by her rosy hood. An amused smile imprinted itself on reality, leaving a streak of abyssal redness amidst the atmosphere.

  Iris met the lady’s gaze. She could not see through the hood, but still the veiled pressure gripped her. She struggled to maintain her steady breathing, but she refused to back down.

  A step forward. She sluggishly made her way through a tide of pedestrians, who parted unconsciously for her, for the being which they could never hope to comprehend.

  “Miss, are you Iris Goodwill?”

  Iris glanced at an officer before she returned her gaze to the empty spot where Devoria was. She swallowed her fatigued sigh, calmed her palpitating spirit, and acknowledged the officer.

  The Court’s carriage trembled. The driver, Flavian, narrowed her eyes and lifted her right hand. A ray of condensed light bloomed in her palm. When she aimed, her heart fluttered; her mistress lightly waved at her, greeting her, stopping her from implicating herself.

  “Anything I could help with, Officer?” Iris said.

  “Our apologies for this sudden visit, but could you please come with us?”

  “What if I couldn’t?” Iris smirked. “Things have been quite hectic these days.”

  “Then we’ll have to request your assistance at a later date.”

  “I was merely jesting. Who would dare to obstruct the way of justice?”

  The officer escorted Iris to their official carriage, leaving Flavian pouting. She recollected herself upon recalling her mistress’s playful smirk. There was little time. She must fulfil her duty!

  As Flavian sped off, Iris boarded a carriage accompanied by a female officer, who explained to her where she was heading and whom she would be meeting. The officer, although nervous, maintained her confidence and assured air.

  Unfortunately, Iris was too lost in her thoughts to flirt with this cute, hardworking girl. She merely observed herself and her surroundings, feeling the foreign power circling her soul, feeling its all-assimilating tendrils wrapping around her, fighting against her thread of Faith.

  So much power, so much contradiction, how could a fragile vessel contain them? Iris did not have the luxury of finding out the truth yet.

  Not now, and maybe never.

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