Our fair librarian noticed how I had been on a rampage checking out and returning books daily. "What are you doing with all these texts?" she muttered dispassionately. Her lips curled like the pattern on her braids, but that triangle face couldn’t hide her clueless. "I know you're not reading them."
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I placed the sack of books over the counter, that way she would stash them all at once and save me a few return trips. "Not true, Madame Vogue; I am reading them feverishly but without slogging through every single word."
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"Have you mastered the techniques of critical reading, Miss Lux?"
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"Heavens no... Maybe."
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"And aren't you the one who expressed disdain toward Magister Renaud's lessons?" She sure took her time placing the crata explications in the sack.
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"Regardless of how tedious the work is, I am not the sort to slack off. I take every class seriously, now and then."
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"Ha, you play daft, young miss, but I see the ember. The faintest light, properly motivated, will carry you into a bright future. Imagine what a mastery of Crata can achieve for thee. Arcane wielders are bereft of the energy to impress literature upon the young ones, so don’t take your time here for granted."
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She sure was taking her time stowing those texts. "Madame Vogue... Do you admire Professor Renaud?"
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She was blushing, suddenly. "Lux, that is hardly an appropriate topic for students." She packed the books and swiftly knotted the sack without missing a beat. "I would thank you to return every single text as you found it, and I remember everything."
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"Do the stain removal and reconstruction spells get out of hand?"
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"They're a spared expense, a trivial one when it comes to the preservation of knowledge. That does not grant thee, nor any other student, the right to mishandle the book. Understand?"
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"Perfectly. And thank you. I will send Professor Renaud your regards."
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"You're wel—Miss Lux!" She glowered as I made my getaway, which would have worked as intended if I could run. Yet, somehow, I was faster than I used to be. Oh well, you can't catch me; I'm the ginger-leg girl.
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"And why are you running?"
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I was grappled by a voice, a familiar and condescending voice, so I swiveled until I spotted the sour source. Wouldn't you know, there was a boy standing by the shelves behind me, staring and full of judgment, book open in his arms. It was his beauty mark that ignited my memory. Oh, no... "You,” I said accusingly. It was him, the boy from the banquet hall. I couldn’t forget the curtained brown hair, the unusually broad shoulders, or the tapering chin.
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"Yes, me," he said back.
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“Fuck you,” I said.
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He was the mirror image of surprise when I turned my back to him. “Wait, what? What did I do?”
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“Making a fool of myself in class, going through after-school penance…” For a reason I could not understand, he was chasing after me. Not a real chase, of course. He was walking.
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“Are you going to apologize?” he demanded.
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“Of course, I will!”
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“… I’m waiting.”
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“When you’re six feet under.”
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“At least explain why you’re so upset.” The bastard followed me out of the library. "It's a little bit early to be lugging cadavers, no?"
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"Is it any of your business what I do with my sack? It's my sack. Do you have a sack as big as mine? I bet you wish you did. Is that why you’re following me?"
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He blinked in front of me, blocking my path. "It looks a bit heavy for you."
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"And?"
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"So, maybe you shouldn’t walk far with a large, heavy sack on your back. You know… because…"
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“Because what!” I snapped, trying to straighten my posture. “Even if were heavy... "Why would it matter?'
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He closed his book with a loud flap. Admittedly, I was nervous. "May I walk you to your destination?"
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I leered at him while smouldering. "Whyyyyyyy?"
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"Because you seem overburdened, and I was taught not to be a lout when it comes to a lady in need."
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"You don't think I can do it by myself?"
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"Why would you want to do it yourself?"
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"I want to."
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"No, you don't," he smirked. "If you could teleport anywhere, you would do it. We all would."
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That's true. "And what would you get in return for carrying my books?"
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"Nothing. I simply noticed thy struggle with a large hunch on your back, and it irked me."
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"Aha! So, you are taking pity on me."
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His sigh slowed via annoyance. "Just let me carry the damn books. You can pay me back. We'll be even, and you won't have to convince me in a hundred words that you can carry a heavy sack of books all by yourself, and I won’t have to watch you pretend that it’s easy.”
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Keep in mind; his expression throughout this exchange carried the air of a beleaguered old man. That’s why I found his offer to be genuine. "Fine..." I unloaded and handed over my sack. Effortlessly, the boy hitched the load over his shoulder.
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"I don't know your name.”
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"Pollux."
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“Pleasure. Do you need my help learning my name, or can you do it all by thy lonesome?”
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“I don’t care about your name,” I told him, resuming my walk.
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"Wow. Pollux means colder than ice, doesn’t it?"
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"Just follow me, whatever your name is."
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"Call me Krixis.”
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“Chris, it's not too far."
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In fact, it would have been a quick trip. Like everything about him, his walk was casual. Only his uniform was straight, minus the disheveled collar. I couldn’t tell if that was his natural pace or if he walked slowly to make me feel normal. Either way, the silence between us stayed awkward.
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We followed the courtyard’s pristine and paved walkway as it rounded the fountain. With so many students on holiday, the garden had been near void of frolicking. Almost zero frolicking. And like every clear noon, the bright sun illuminated the small glade into elliptical evergreens.
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"Pollux," Chris muttered.
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I rolled my eyes in his direction.
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"Who are these books for?"
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“For me.”
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"All of them?"
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"They might be."
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"I'm guessing you're quite the book worm."
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"I like to stay productive, even when the world continues without a care."
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"Do you really intend to read all these?"
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"What's your name again?"
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"You know what it is."
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I pointed at him with a fake scowl. "I probably misheard?"
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"Krixis. My name is Krixis Heidrich, Paul."
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"Sour to meet you, Krixis. Now, explain to me what people normally do with books, if you please."
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"It was just a question."
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"Not exactly." Before I knew it, I changed the subject. "Why were you in the library?"
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"What else is there to do?"
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"Uhhh, practice magic? Study up on the arcane—or the Chant, I suppose. Free equestrian lessons are being taught at the stables. Horse-master Rick has very few pages to train, I hear.
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"Meh, I know how to ride a horse."
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"Really? Farmer or lord's son?"
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"Pardon?"
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"Where did you learn to ride?"
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"Both my parents know."
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I nodded, masking my envy. "I never bothered to learn."
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"You might enjoy it."
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"Couldst thou maybe understand why I'm not keen on steering a 500-kilogram animal on stirrups? Maybe? Y-y-you think my disposition lends itself well to horseriding?"
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He paused long enough to look me up and down. "I think you can do it."
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"I don't know about that..."
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"I think you'd like it."
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Hmmm. Why was I having trouble staying angry? “What do you know…” I casually ignored all words and feelings, right up until we arrived at my destination. "Maister Rorke’s classroom?" he muttered, observing the door between the brick layers.
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"Isn't this—"
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"Did you mean what you said?" I asked, retrieving the book sack from him.
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"You mean about horse riding? Of course I meant it."
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"No…” I tried not to be awkward, and I refused to be nervous. “Do you remember what you said the first time we met?"
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He stared at me studiously. Then his face stretched into eureka. " Uhh… Why would I lie about that?"
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"I don't know..."
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"Now that you're here with your sack, I suppose we should part ways."
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"Did you mean it or not?"
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Briefly, he creased into that annoyed face that I remember. But his sanguine features disappeared under the southern tan. I think he was nervous. "Yes. I meant it."
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"Okay," I exclaimed, opening the classroom door. "Thank you for your help." I shut the door on his blank face. And as I set foot inside, I felt vexed.
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Dimmer than usual, the classroom seemed unfamiliar. The darkness was something of an improvement, for it was less dour; the chips in the floorboard were almost invisible, and candlelight kept the bookless shelves lit. It almost made me want to study. Yet before optimism got the better of me, I caught my teacher Maister Rorke at his desk, nose-diving into another tome. As I expected, he too had no life. And when he looked up from his deep reading, his face shrunk. I understood that look because I made it all the time.
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"You’re here… again?" he said disconcertedly. “For some reason.”
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"I am a curious cat. What can I say? I brought more tomes from which to unravel the arcane. You won’t answer my questions in class, so I figured I’d inquire outside of class. " Without a care, I approached Rorke’s little sanctuary of a study.
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"Miss Lux, you have an entire week to forego academic responsibilities, and this is how you choose to spend it? Don't you have recreational ideas in those ever-winding thoughts?"
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"Yes, that is exactly why I have come. I bet you get bored from routine."
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"As a matter of fact-"
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"Which is why I’ve come to deliver thee more famed works of literature to decipher. How fun?” I sounded so cynical, enthusiastic, and sarcastic all at once. “Some authors are famous, many of them frauds, I’m sure. What secrets bely the prose and the cons. Heeheeheehee."
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"Even if you search through all those books and stitch together one incantation from a bunch of scattered excerpts, what makes you think I will confirm or deny them?"
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"Because I've been spending time with the Master of Verses himself, Magister Renaud."
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"And?"
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"And if you've met him, you understand that a loquacious loner is like a starving strumpet. Which is why, if he frivolously expounded on the terminology behind incantations…"
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"He would’ve been thorough..."
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Rorke’s face became one big crease.
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"A gift for a good note-taker, right?"
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His silence spoke volumes.
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"...Right?"
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"Application takes more than a good vocabulary. Syntax, signals, and proper coordination are key."
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"You wouldn't let me bumble the incantation until I blow up this classroom, would you?"
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I could see his eyes bulge. Now he was nervous. "You wouldn't dare..."
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"'Kana'thoom…
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“No…”
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“Da Ri Shh—'"
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"Miss Lux! Prithee, shut up! It is utterly reckless to enunciate Words of Power outside a controlled setting. You are a student! I promise you; your affinity will reveal itself at the proper time, not by tempting fate with dully acquired spells that can detonate a classroom with random elements.”
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"You don’t get it.” I shut the tome with a deliberate clamp. There could be no affinity to speak of. And if there isn’t, I don't want to spend a single second more of my life wondering."
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