The journey from the orphanage to the city's southern gates was a long one, the familiar scent of the forest slowly giving way to the dust of a well-trodden road. As the high, imposing walls of Gouon came into view, Paley spotted a large river to the left, a silver ribbon winding beyond the hills. Teerom explained that the city was built around this river, its lifeblood, which connected to a small sea further north.

  "Does the river by the forest come from this one?" Paley asked, his eyes tracing its path.

  "That's right." Teerom placed a steadying hand on Paley's shoulder as the figures of the guards at the gate became clearer. "Alright. We just say we're here for supplies. I brought some coin in case they need persuading."

  Paley nodded, but as they approached, his gaze fixed on one of the guards. Around the man, he saw an almost imperceptible outline - not just blackness, but a faint, greasy smear in the air, something that made his skin crawl. Teerom, oblivious, launched into his story, his voice confident and charismatic. Paley's stare, however, was making the guard uncomfortable. Teerom quickly patted Paley's back, a silent command to look away. They managed to get through without a bribe and stepped into the city.

  Evening was bleeding into the sky, and the atmosphere was a world away from the orphanage's quiet solitude. They had entered the common quarters, where rows of neat houses lined the streets. To their left, the great river disappeared behind a wall of buildings, its entrance barred by a heavy wooden cross-gate. The eastern district was new, built with imported pale marble that sat atop cleanly cut stone. As they walked, the city seemed to age around them, the pristine marble giving way to the seasoned timber and worn stone of the central district, a place that had stood for four hundred years. Paley was captivated; the rich history of the place seemed to seep from the very cobblestones.

  "We can either go to the chapel or the library," Teerom explained, his voice low as they navigated the streets. They stood out in their ragged clothes, drawing a few curious glances. A city guardsman on patrol slowed his pace, his eyes lingering on their frayed hems and worn shoes before moving on. Teerom nudged Paley to walk faster. "The chapel is heavily guarded, so we go to the library. The third floor has the grimoires, but it's off-limits to the public."

  After twenty more minutes, they emerged onto a wide road grooved with the tracks of caravan wheels. To their right was a bustling trading hub, still humming with the last of the day's activity. Straight ahead, a grand road led toward the bazaar and the elite northern districts. Teerom stopped Paley and pointed. "There." The library was a cylindrical, three-story building with a great glass dome that caught the last rays of the setting sun, making it glow like a lantern.

  "Still open," Teerom breathed, a small victory. He led Paley toward the entrance. "Now, we look suspicious. The third floor is only for aspiring mages or knights I think. They won't let us up, and it's obvious we're not from the city."

  "So what do we do?" Paley asked as they reached the grand doors.

  Teerom hesitated, his earlier confidence crumbling. "I honestly have no idea. I was trying to think of a plan on the way here, but I've got nothing. This is what I get for trying to look cool."

  "Don't worry," Paley reassured him. "We'll figure it out." He looked up at the library's imposing height. "We just need people not to see us go in, right? How do they check if we're students?"

  "Guards. Last time I came here with Jurie, there were guards."

  "How big is the entrance to the third floor? If we were invisible, could we squeeze past without touching them?"

  Teerom's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you can already use Illusion Magic."

  "Is that what it's called?" Paley's question did little to boost Teerom's morale, but when he pulled them into a shadowed corner and began to cast the spell, Teerom was stunned by its efficacy. As he concentrated, his mana morphed into familiar shapes. A cold tingle shot up his spine. Their forms shimmered and faded. "I think," Paley whispered, his voice sounding distant, "I've done this before."

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  "I'm not going to ask why," Teerom said, patting his shoulder. "How long does it last? And can you make it so I can see you?"

  "I'm not sure. And it's already hard holding it on both of us."

  "No time to waste, then." Teerom gripped Paley's hand, the touch a strange, disembodied pressure. "Don't let go," he whispered as they slipped into the library. The air inside was cool and smelled of old paper and dust. They climbed the first set of sweeping stairs. Paley yearned to stop and read the titles on the shelves, but he pushed the urge down. Teerom, however, gave in to a different impulse. As they passed a shelf, he furtively snatched a book he knew Jurie had been pining for: a frivolous romance they couldn't afford. A nearby woman gave a sharp, confused frown as the book seemingly levitated off the shelf. Teerom froze, holding his breath until she shook her head and walked away, muttering about her eyesight.

  "There they are," Teerom whispered, pointing toward the next staircase. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance to the third floor, their postures slumped with end-of-day boredom.

  "We could wait for them to leave," Paley suggested.

  "Won't work. They sweep the library and lock that door up there before they go." Teerom tightened his grip and guided Paley forward. They moved like ghosts, their bare feet making no sound on the polished stone. Paley held his breath, a counter-productive move that made his illusion waver. The world flickered, and one of the guards caught the brief shimmer, his head beginning to turn.

  Thinking fast, Teerom tossed a few coins onto the floor. The clatter was sharp in the silence. The guard was immediately distracted, bending to pick them up, and in that precious moment, they slipped past and through the doorway. Paley gasped for air, re-strengthening the spell, but he could feel his mana draining like sand through a sieve. The guard below, pocketing the coins, started up the stairs, his curiosity piqued.

  No time to waste.

  "You take the left, I'll take the right," Teerom whispered. The room was vast and circular, lined with towering shelves. The glass dome above bathed the space in the dying sunlight. Paley kept the spell active on Teerom as they split up, their invisible hands frantically scanning the spines of ancient books.

  Paley found it. A whole section on the healing arts, from basic to intermediate. With no time to check which would be best, he decided to take them all. It was a bad idea. As he touched the books, extending his illusion to cover them, the guard entered the room. He immediately spotted the grimoires floating off the shelf.

  "Invisible Intruder!" he roared, the shout echoing in the cavernous room. Below, civilians froze and other guards began to move.

  "Are you okay!?" Teerom shouted from the other side, careful not to use Paley's name.

  "I found them! Let's go!" Paley grabbed another book and hurled it at the guard, who deflected it easily and began to advance. The illusion frayed at the edges. 'Sorry, Mother'. Paley shoved a heavy shelf. It crashed down, blocking the guard's path.

  "The left window!" Teerom yelled, a blatant lie. Paley used the illusion to locate Teerom's faint outline and ran toward the staircase as the guards, drawn by the shout, stormed toward the left. As they scrambled down the stairs, Paley couldn't resist. He quickly swiped two more books that caught his eye: "Demonology" and "Manoha Buul, The Fourth Quimnia."

  Teerom let out a choked laugh as they burst out of the library and into the cool night air. But the overuse of his magic had taken its toll. Paley's vision swam, a leaden weight settling in his limbs. Thinking quickly, Teerom hoisted him onto his back in a clumsy piggyback. He fueled his legs with Strength Magic, his muscles burning with the unnatural strain. He sprinted, but the enhancement was pitiful, draining away like water through a crack. The guards were already catching up.

  Paley looked back weakly, forgetting to hide his face. "A young boy! Black hair! Red eyes!" the lead guard yelled, his voice carrying clearly in the evening.

  "Did you show them your face?! Come on, man!" Teerom gritted his teeth, panic rising as he felt his own magic draining away far too quickly.

  Paley's right hand glowed with an intense blue light. He threw his palm backward, and a sheet of ice hissed across the cobblestones. All but one of the guards slipped and fell in a clatter of armor. The last one, more experienced, vaulted over the ice patch.

  "Don't show them you're a Quimnia," Teerom mumbled anxiously.

  "I won't," Paley reassured him, his voice faint as he charged another spell. "You said some mages can use more than one magic type. As long as I don't use more than three, they won't suspect." He shot a blast of fire at their pursuer that hit him square in the chest, sending him tumbling back.

  "Woah! What was that?!" Teerom yelped, refusing to look back. "Are you trying to kill the guy!?"

  "He's wearing armor. He'll be fine," Paley murmured, then went limp on Teerom's back, his consciousness finally giving out.

  "You're incredible, little brother," Teerom grinned breathlessly, ducking into a dark alleyway to rest. He gently set the unconscious Paley down, the stolen books tumbling to the ground beside him. He looked back at the empty street, his heart pounding.

  "They know your face now," he whispered into the darkness. "How am I going to get us out of here?"