‘A common failing is thinking a mage is at their weakest when they’re asleep, Let me tell you— That couldn’t be less true. See, a mage is smart. They know that they’re vulnerable when they sleep, so a good mage will be expecting something to go wrong and prepare accordingly. Trying to take a mage while they sleep, well that’s a mistake no rookie will live to make twice...”

  — Extract from ‘Knowing Our Enemy: The Mage’ by Gindrin of Clan Steintor

  “We’re in agreement, then? You act as an encyclopedia for me, and in return I don’t turn you back into The Library and feed you new books as we come across them.” said an exhausted Quinn to the book sat on his desk.

  After having a one-sided conversation only accompanied by pantomime and demonstrations from Tome, Quinn had finally figured out what it was Tome could do for him: Namely function as his own personal library contained within a single book. All he had to do in return was provide Tome with a semi-steady stream of new literature to digest.

  ‘Affirmation. Agreement.’ came Tome’s response.

  “Well then here’s the first round of payment as promised.”

  Quinn took his copy of The University’s Student Handbook, which he had been using as a bargaining chip for the better part of his conversation with Tome, and tossed it onto the desk next to the ravenous lexicon. He then watched with a healthy mix of fascination and horror as the handbook, which had a respectable heft to it, was devoured by Tome in the blink of an eye.

  “Great job, now I do need to read what you just ate, so if you wouldn’t mind….”

  Tome warbled, changing in size until it reached the same dimensions as the book Quinn had just tossed it. With a grin, Quinn picked it up and flipped to the first page which had ‘The University’s Student Handbook’ written across it. Making himself comfortable in his bed, he started to read from the handbook, finally following the advice of the many people who had told him to do so.

  Boy was it eye-opening.

  He had expected it to just be a bog-standard accounting of rules and, while in a way it was, they were rules fitting of a University that taught magic. The fact that they had put in writing that ‘rending a student’s soul from their body’ was grounds for immediate expulsion was more than a little terrifying, especially when Quinn considered why they had to make that rule in the first place. He also started to get the feeling that there was another message in the book if you read between the lines a little bit, one that he wanted to look further into.

  Taking his journal from his satchel and the magical equivalent of a ball-point pen that he had been using for taking notes, Quinn started to write down some of the clear hints he saw in the handbook.

  ‘There are repeated mentions of-’

  Of course, Tome, seeing a new book to eat, couldn’t help himself and leapt out of Quinn’s lap to devour his journal. Should he have realized this was going to happen? Maybe. Did this stop him from getting mad that his only journal had just been devoured, therefore depriving him of a palace to take notes? No.

  “Tome! Only eat the books I say you can!” Quinn shouted while wagging his finger at the book, which at least had the decency to look chastised.

  ‘Apologies’ the book emanated.

  “Apologies don’t cut it, Tome! How am I supposed to take notes if I can’t trust you not to eat my journals?” exclaimed Quinn.

  ‘Idea’ the book responded and warbled again, changing in size. It then opened itself up, this time to an entirely blank page.

  Seeing what Tome had in mind, Quinn took his pen and started to write down notes on his findings. When he had finished, he absentmindedly flipped the page back in an attempt to return to the handbook and keep reading. To his surprise, Tome caught on to his intention, and it worked– Although the process gave him a slight headache as he watched the space around his fingers turn non-Euclidean for a moment as he turned the page.

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  After flipping back and forth a few times to get used to the newfound journal-book-thing he found himself with, Quinn settled into a routine and continued to read, taking notes all the while.

  Soon, a pattern emerged in the structuring of the handbook. Every section of rules seemed to have one rule that didn’t fit in properly with the rest of them and, after noting down the section numbering associated with each of those rules, Quinn found himself with a string of letters and numbers that looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place how.

  Looking up from Tome, Quinn felt a dull throb behind his eyes. Outside his window the sun, which had still been above the crest of the Crown when he had started reading earlier this afternoon, had already set with the stars beginning to take its place.

  Ready to call it a day, Quinn decided he’d continue tomorrow when he had more time, but before he could close Tome, the page turned to show a copy of Quinn’s schedule. More specifically, the hastily scrawled note with Professor Whitewood’s office number.

  He did a double take, that was where he recognized the message from! Flipping back to his notes, he saw the last section of the letters and numbers matched up with Whitewood’s office number. While that didn’t tell him what the rest of it meant, he now had a place to start.

  “You’re a genius, Tome! Good work.” he said, “I’ll have to ask Whitewood about this when I see him tomorrow.”

  Tome gave off a feeling of happiness, glad that it was able to help, and then let Quinn close it before going to rest on his desk.

  With a yawn, Quinn extinguished the magi-lamp on his desk and, curling into bed, reflected on his eventful first day as well as his plans for the future. He felt tension he didn’t even know he’d had leave his body. While he may not have been sure of what he was going to do before today, he now felt as though he had direction. Aegian’s journal had given him advice, and he was going to do his best to follow it. Maybe one day it would lead to him getting back home.

  For now, though, he needed sleep.

  Shutting his eyes, he allowed himself to drift off into the embrace of dreams.

  —

  Around an hour after Quinn drifted off, a shrouded figure crested the top of the steps of Linton tower. They would’ve been missed by any but the most practiced observer, cloaked as they were in a shroud of illusion. Withdrawing a folded piece of parchment from their pocket, they checked it once before looking up and creeping towards Quinn’s door.

  A thin hole formed in the Fabric as they began channeling in a way meant for delicate Aether work. While originally pioneered by Runesmiths and Ward crafters to allow for precision work without much power, the Pincanti Method had also grown in popularity among thieves and spies due to its nigh-undetectable Aether signature.

  Slowly but surely, an Aether flow began crawling its way through the matrix of the ward on Quinn’s door, carefully avoiding the security measures the University put on all dorm room doors. As the figure went to slide the flow through the well known hole in the default ward, they bumped into something a little more sinister.

  They had a split second to curse their luck before the countermeasures Andrew had layered beneath the ward lashed out like a viper and bit into the spirit of the ne’er-do-well. The figure slumped to the floor with a dull thump. The Aether flow they had been channeling broke as the thin hole in the Fabric closed without someone’s Will to support it.

  Light flooded into the hallway as Andrew opened his door and approached the sprawled out figure– recording crystal in hand. Peeling back the illusory shroud keeping them obscured, he was greeted by Daniel Layton, a bottom of the barrel second-year that made up for his lack of talent in traditional areas of study by selling out his services to some less than savory individuals. Last Andrew remembered, he was currently in the employ of the Lightfinger crew– although why they of all people would be trying to break into Quinn’s room, he had no idea. He’d just drop him off in a bush somewhere, and hopefully that would teach him to try to break into his resident’s rooms.

  Checking his pockets, Andrew relieved him of his coin purse and pulled out a folded note. Unfolding it, his eyes widened in surprise at its contents.

  ‘Our sources say he lives in the last room at the top of Linton Tower. Teach him a lesson about what happens to those who interfere with the Lightfingers.’

  That changed things. If Dan had just been here for petty theft, he was willing to let it slide while keeping the recording as blackmail in case he needed a favor later.

  Coming to ‘teach a lesson’ on behalf of the Lightfingers though? That broke more University Rules than Andrew cared to think of– he’d have to report this. Yawning, Andrew looked down at his watch and saw it was only a little past two in the morning. This was going to be an annoying meeting when he turned Dan in, best to leave it for morning. The ward packed enough of a punch that Dan would be knocked out for the next twelve hours anyways, no sense missing out on a good night's sleep.

  Looping his arms under Dan’s, Andrew dragged him back into his room and shut the door.

  For a moment, darkness settled in the hall once more– until another door opened. A bleary-eyed Bao dressed in an oversized set of pajamas stepped out into the hall and held up a little orb of light he’d figured out how to make while practicing his Aether Control assignment. He gave the hall a once over and frowned.

  “Huh, thought I heard something… back to bed I guess.”

  Stepping back into his room, he closed the door.

  Yet again, the hallway went dark, this time not growing bright again until the rising of the sun over the crest of the Crown, marking the start of a new day.