Perhaps an hour had passed since I sat behind my desk, lost in thought.
I was thinking about Mystiquire—why the kingdom would blame Mystiquire for every major incident without question.
Who—or what—exactly was Mystiquire? A group? A cult?
I exhaled deeply and remembered that today I had intended to read about Spells.
I rose from the chair and walked toward the door.
After leaving the room, I closed the door behind me and headed for the stairs.
As I walked along the third-floor corridor toward the staircase, I suddenly saw the top of Frederick's head rising from below.
Then his body appeared fully as he climbed the last steps.
He wore his usual attire and—as always—carried his clipboard.
When he reached the landing and saw me standing there, he bowed slightly.
"My lord… are you going somewhere?"
I looked him up and down.
"I'm going to the library."
But Frederick gave a small smile.
"But this afternoon you have a session in the House of Lords, my lord."
I gave a faint smile in return.
"It doesn't matter… Inform them that my physical or mental condition is not suitable. You can say I've fallen ill."
Frederick's eyes widened slightly.
"You… do not wish to attend the session?!"
I continued walking past him toward the stairs.
"Yes… come up with a convincing excuse. I already know all your lectures by heart—no need to repeat them every time."
Frederick fell completely silent. He only bowed his head lower.
I descended to the second floor.
The double doors of the library stood directly ahead.
I pushed them open and stepped inside.
I scanned the room—the librarian was not present.
I looked at the sheer size of the library. It would probably take some time to locate the books on Spells in a collection this vast.
A few minutes later…
I finally found the book I was looking for. Fortunately, it was in the very first row I had started searching.
I held it in my hands and read the title under my breath.
"Compendium of Spells…"
I felt the name was almost comically underwhelming for such a subject.
Still, I carried the book to one of the reading tables in the library, sat down, and opened it.
I skimmed the table of contents. Nine pages were dedicated to Spells.
Without hesitation, I turned directly to page nine and began reading.
"Page 9 of the Compendium of Spells"
Spells are tools for redirecting reality. Each spell interacts with the world in its own way, and their effects vary depending on how they are used. Some act gently and briefly—subtle and fleeting—while others exert full force and lasting influence, bending unseen currents of the world to their will.
Experience has shown that every spell, no matter how simple or limited in scope, leaves an imprint on both the caster and the surroundings—sometimes obvious, sometimes invisible. Some alter emotions and perception; some shape air and environment; others affect the body and senses directly.
Every spell operates under unwritten laws—laws that can only be understood through practice and care. Prolonged or overly powerful use always carries hidden costs; perception and senses may be temporarily dulled or restricted.
Yet spells are never free of price. Even the simplest and shortest exact a toll—limiting awareness or sensation for a time. It is these very limitations that give spells meaning and balance. That balance is the secret to their endurance and effectiveness, and the guiding light for those who seek to wield them.
After reading the page, I stared at it for a moment before turning to the next.
Page ten was far more interesting.
At the top it read: "Spells and Their Four Primary Flows"
I smiled faintly and began reading.
The first branch of spells… Sleepiness. What even is this?
I continued reading the text below.
"Spells associated with Sleepiness possess the ability to alter levels of consciousness. Some are light and short-lived—gentle and transient—while more powerful variants maintain their effect for extended periods and leave deeper impressions on both caster and surroundings. The use of stronger versions is always accompanied by hidden costs; perception and senses may be temporarily dulled…"
I paused and looked at the illustrations beneath the text—five different spell circles, each with a unique design.
I focused on the simplest one: a large outer circle containing four smaller circles positioned north, south, east, and west. Two lines connected north to south and east to west, crossing in the centre where another small circle sat. Four additional lines radiated outward from the central point to the edges of the large circle.
Still staring at the book, I began tracing the pattern on the table with my right index finger.
It was the simplest circle—just a basic design.
Yet as I absentmindedly followed the shape, I suddenly felt warmth beneath my fingertip.
I looked down.
I had drawn half of the Sleepiness spell circle on the table—without even realizing it.
How?
I lifted the book and stood to complete the circle more clearly.
Only one line remained.
I drew it.
The moment the circle was complete, its glow shifted from white to pale red.
I stared at it.
Nothing happened. The circle continued to emit a faint red light.
I looked back at the book—nothing was written about what should happen next.
I leaned against the table and placed my left hand directly over the circle.
Perhaps only a few seconds passed before I felt the warmth of the spell lift from the table and concentrate above my left palm.
I looked down.
The spell circle had shrunk dramatically and now hovered—dimly glowing—above my left hand.
I stared at it—when suddenly the circle snapped against my skin.
It felt as though a red-hot coal had been pressed into my palm.
I wanted to scream—but screaming would wound my pride.
Instead I grabbed the water pitcher beside the table and poured it over my left hand.
The burning eased slightly.
When I looked again, the spell circle had faded completely.
My left palm looked perfectly normal.
I gave a triumphant, almost smug smile—until a sharp pain exploded in my head.
I dropped back into the chair, rested my forehead on the desk, and pressed my fingers in slow circles against my temples while taking deep breaths.
I don't know how long it lasted—but when the headache finally subsided, I lifted my head.
I looked around.
My eyes fell back on the book.
Beneath the spell circles it read:
"If the spell is executed correctly, it imprints transparently upon your hand. Afterward, a relatively severe headache occurs—this is due to the synchronization of current knowledge and human perception required to perform the spell…"
I thought back over what had just happened.
Now I understood why my hand had burned—and why my head had nearly split open.
I exhaled deeply and continued reading the same page.
"In order to advance in the Sleepiness spell branch, you may raise your own Tier by performing a spell circle one Tier higher than your current level…"
I stared at the sentence in silence.
"So the hierarchy still exists… Disappointing. I was hoping I'd become someone who could put an entire city to sleep with a single snap!!"
I kept reading.
"The incantation that activates spells in this branch is 'Veil the Wake.' This phrase can trigger all Tier 1 Sleepiness spells!!"
A faint, almost wicked smile crossed my lips.
I extended my left hand slightly and whispered,
"Veil the Wake…"
The spell circle I had drawn reappeared in front of my palm—glowing pale red.
I smiled—until cracks suddenly formed across the circle.
It shattered.
At the same instant, a sharp pain lanced through my head—but only for a few seconds before it faded.
I exhaled deeply and shook my head slightly.
I continued reading the same page.
"If the spell circle breaks during execution—accompanied by a headache—this is a sign of physical and perceptual weakness in performing the spell. Perform the same spell two to three times daily until the headache no longer occurs. Full details on Tier 1 Sleepiness spells follow…"
I stared at the sentence in disbelief.
"I suppose I should stop being so impatient… Or perhaps this book knows I'm impatient—performing the spell wrong before even reading the instructions!!"
A few minutes later…
I was flipping through the pages.
Nearly forty pages were dedicated to the four Tiers of the Sleepiness spell branch. Tier 4 had very little written about it.
From those forty pages I learned that Tier 1 contained about eight different spell variations.
After finishing the Sleepiness section, I skimmed the rest.
Chapter Two: Hallucination spells.
Chapter Three: Wind spells.
Chapter Four: Poison spells.
After the four main chapters came several pages of general notes—strengths and weaknesses of each branch, unique explanations, and additional details.
But one passage in particular caught my attention.
It read: "When casting spells, be cautious. Spells draw upon your Sanity. To preserve your own health, never treat spells as a daily amusement."
Two other sentences stood out even more.
The first: "You may select a maximum of two spells—one imprinted on the left hand, the other on the right."
The second was far more intriguing: "This book is written for hereditary nobles. Only those of noble blood possess the ability to perform spells and curses."
The second sentence carried only one clear meaning:
Only hereditary nobles could use spells.
But then what about the Night Keepers?
What about the man in grey who vanished into mist?
If they weren't using spells… then what were they?
I exhaled deeply and closed the book.
But just as I was about to leave, something occurred to me.
Geoffrey had used Blood Arrow.
Yet in none of these pages was there any mention of blood—or any spell that required it.
I glanced sideways at the book—but for now, I decided to leave the library.
I had almost reached the doors when my eyes fell on the wall clock.
I stared in shock.
15:00—three o'clock.
How long had I been reading about spells in this library?
With a smile born of disbelief, I left the library—only to run straight into William, Charlotte Vale, and Frederick in the corridor outside.
All three stared at me in surprise.
I looked from one to the other with a faint smile.
Unfortunately, William and Frederick forced me to spend the entire afternoon listening to plans and updates about future industrial projects.
Yes—it was incredibly tedious.
Fortunately, the joy of having learned about spells kept me going.
───────────────────────────
"Very well, students—you may go. Class is dismissed for today."
One of the students stood up.
"Professor Smith… may I ask how much you earn?"
John Smith gave a small smile.
"Eight hundred pounds per year. Why?"
The students murmured among themselves.
John Smith tapped the desk lightly.
"Now go—next week you have me on Sunday and Wednesday for provincial law. Don't forget Sunday's exam on the provincial statutes!"
The students gathered their books, gave brief farewells, and left the classroom.
The orange evening sunlight poured through the windows of the University of London.
John Smith placed several books into his bag, picked it up, and left the room.
No one else appeared to be in the university building.
But perhaps that wasn't true.
Just… perhaps.