First, why was the original in Cyprian’s hands?

Luka had faked his death in my room, and was most likely the culprit who stole the blindfold. He must have used it to infiltrate the moon path realm, only to have the blindfold taken away by Cyprian during their confrontation. As a result, by the time he summoned me, he hadn’t had anything to cover his eyes.

Second, how did Cyprian know it was mine?

“Didn’t Cynara explain everything already?” I prompted.

“What is there to explain? I had my artifact on me when the moon path realm ruptured, and you didn’t,” she said irritably.

I couldn’t confidently eliminate possibilities with that answer. “So you didn’t tell him about how you gossip with the servants?”

Cynara gave me a weird look, and Cyprian narrowed his eyes.

“Servants? What are you talking about?” she said.

What. “You know,” I said slowly. “The people who cook and clean and garden?”

“We don’t have servants.”

I stared at Cynara, then put a hand to my forehead. “That’s strange. Did you perform the ritual recently and I just didn’t notice? Why is it you having memory problems and not me? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Graves as well.”

“Of course I remember Graves. But we don’t have any retainers who reside on the premises besides him.”

Cyprian didn’t refute her. A chill crawled down my spine.

Just inferring from what I knew about the moon path realm, was this what happened to someone who died in there — being erased from existence?

“Let’s check the house’s records when we get back,” I said. This way I could confirm if the erasure extended to physical evidence and not just memory. “But let me confirm with you first. According to your memory, what happened after Luka showed up at the house?”

“You talked Father out of killing Luka, delayed his death, and took him up to your room to talk. Father and Graves left to take care of other business. Then your classmate’s body went missing.”

“I see. And how did you learn that?”

“I caught you acting suspicious as you left the room and asked where your guest went, so you had no choice but to confess.”

What did that tell me?

The pattern on Graves’ blindfold was different from mine. Cynara must have seen my pattern when she took the blindfold off last night, after getting out of the moon paths. Therefore, her artifact must have the same pattern as mine, or else she and Cyprian wouldn’t have accepted the explanation that it was hers.

It was possible to use [Honest Man’s Deception] to overturn this situation by leading the others into thinking that Luka had used some ability to duplicate the blindfold, presenting the one Cyprian held as the fake and mine as the real. I could also accuse Cynara of losing her artifact and taking mine to cover her mistake. Something like, “I was the one who noticed the problem with the moon paths last night, brought out the artifact, and devised a way to escape. But we’re the only witnesses to what happened. Aren’t you trying to push the blame for your mistakes onto me so your incompetence won’t be noticed?”

With a little silver-tongued talking and some sleight-of-hand at the manor, I was sure I could sway everyone’s judgment my way.

However, I didn’t feel like hinting at my hidden cards or screwing over Cynara just yet.

It seemed like I’d be eating a loss this time.

“That about sums it up,” I said. “I thought Luka died, and I checked his body, so I suppose he must have used some trick to fool me. I left the room for a short while, and when I returned, his body and the artifact were gone.”

“Because of that boy, the moon paths are in complete disarray, and our operations will have to be temporarily suspended,” Cyprian said, gazing intently at me. “Is there nothing you have to say in defense?”

Why would he want me to talk back? Did he want me to expose what I’d gained from the coming-of-age ritual?

“You said that Luka was caught in the first place because of my trap,” I said, “so I hope you’ll take that merit into account first.”

Now Cynara was looking at me too. What did I say this time? Was I too out of character?

Cyprian’s gaze was unreadable.

“From now on, at the Academy, aside from the bare essentials, you will receive no resources from the family.”

Was that it? With this kind of serious atmosphere, you would’ve thought I was receiving an execution sentence. “Understood.”

“You will not regain access until you achieve a significant merit for the family.”

“Yes.”

Cyprian nodded and stood up. With a wave of his hand, the campfire went out. When would I learn how to do something that casually cool?

“Come. It is time to return to the estate.”

He drew his sword and cut open the air, revealing the darkness of the moon path realm once more. I wasn’t enthusiastic about entering, even if it wasn’t leaking everywhere this time.

Still, I grabbed onto Cynara’s arm as she tied the copied blindfold on and followed her in. One benefit of Cyprian’s presence was that Cynara didn’t complain at me, and with the blindfold on, I couldn’t see her give me a nasty glare, either. Life was full of small victories like this.

The entities in the darkness were dead silent this time. I couldn’t tell if it was because we weren’t disturbing them, or if it was because Cyprian’s presence warded them off somehow. He hadn’t worn an artifact when I’d first seen him enter the moon paths, and he hadn’t had one when fighting Luka, either.

Overall, it was a quiet walk, but enjoyable enough if you could ignore the tension and the awkwardness.

Cyprian left Cynara and I to our own devices once we reached the estate, disappearing into his study along with Graves.

I turned to go back to my room and get some more sleep.

Cynara caught my sleeve. I looked back.

“What?”

“Explain yourself.”

So demanding. “Be more specific.”

Cynara narrowed her eyes. “Why did you accept responsibility for what happened?”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows. “I thought you would be happy to see me suffer.”

“If you were trying to get out of it, maybe. But you didn’t, even though you could.”

She’d noticed?

“Why didn’t you tell Father about your new abilities?”

Oh, so it was about that.

“To be honest, I believe the things I’ve gained from the ritual are more troublesome than useful…”

“Stop talking nonsense. Do you think I’ve forgotten about your” — she rolled her eyes — “instinct?”

“Why is this of such interest to you? Anyone can develop instinct as long as they survive enough.”

“To the point you can sense the moon path realm’s impending disaster when there were no outward indications?”

“Maybe you can’t,” I generously conceded.

Cynara snorted.

“I just don’t see why you wouldn’t spin this to your advantage as soon as you obtained it. Did you foresee it would be dangerous to reveal your hand?”

“If I foresaw that, I wouldn’t have told you anything.”

“No one said you’d foresee everything.”

“You’re jumping through a lot of hoops to conclude that I’ve obtained some kind of prophetic ability. Do you want it to be true that badly?”

Cynara clicked her tongue, but she dropped the subject. Instead, she brought out the copied artifact from her coat pocket.

“And what’s the deal with this? Is it yours or mine?”

“What do you think?” I said, as if the answer should be obvious.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

I smiled. “If you’re curious, you can try keeping it by your side for a while and see what happens.”

It would be funny to see her brain go haywire when I dismissed [Honest Man’s Deception] and the artifact disappeared from her room.

Cynara stared at me, then shoved the blindfold back into my hands with a disgusted expression.

“Nevermind. I don’t want to figure out your tricks anymore.”

“If it was a trick, why didn’t you say anything during my little hearing? Wouldn’t it have been fun to dig my pit a little deeper?”

“I have no intention of playing into your hands anymore.”

So Cynara was cautious of me because of past experiences with Acacius and her own insistence on believing in prophecy. Why had Cyprian been so lenient, then? It wasn’t like he knew I’d had any premonitions of the future, did he?

It also occurred to me that maybe I’d actually gotten a really severe punishment, but it was just so hard to picture when he’d promised to secure my basic needs. There basically wasn’t any consequence to me at all.

In fact, there were a couple of positive points.

“So you would have dug a pit for me if you could have?” I confirmed. That was good to know.

Cynara scowled. “Did you really think I wouldn’t?”

“And after I helped you survive that crisis, too.” I refrained from adding a tsk, tsk at the end because it seemed like it’d be out of character for Acacius, which was sad. “What happened to gratitude these days?”

She narrowed her eyes and took a step back. “I looked after you while you were unconscious, too. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Please. We only escaped because I shared my deeply held secrets. Don’t you think I deserve some compensation?”

See, if Cynara didn’t feel guilty, she could just say, You only did that to escape, yourself.

Instead, her eyes slid to the side before she lifted her chin and argued, “You told me you like spicy food. How is that a secret?”

That was as good as conceding that, if I had told her a real secret, then she owed me.

And my regrets definitely counted as a secret.

I smiled. “If it’s not a secret, then I’m not asking you a favor, okay?”

“What kind of rhetoric is that?”

“The rhetoric of someone you don’t want to owe.”

Cynara glared at me, before clicking her tongue and brushing her braids back over her shoulder.

“Fine, spit it out. I may as well entertain myself with your delusions.”

“That’s great.” I clapped her on the shoulder. “So, since you owe me one, you’ll take care of all our Academy enrollment processes, right?”

“…”

Why was she looking at me like that? Sure, a control freak like Acacius might not give up this kind of task, but hadn’t enough happened in the past few days? Surely it was normal for Acacius to want to take a break.

“…Is that it?”

“What kind of terrible thing were you imagining I’d say?”

Cynara closed her eyes briefly. “Why do you want me to handle your enrollment, Acacius?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“The real question is if you want me to be in charge of yours.”

Cynara shook her head slowly.

“…Fine. But I’ll figure out what you’re up to. Just you wait.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” I said, because I really wanted to know what Acacius had been trying to do, too.

With that, I successfully dumped my only known responsibility on someone else. Life was good.

The last I saw of Cyprian that day was at lunch, where Graves called me down to the dining room and served us a delicious meal, and we ate in near complete silence. I ate quickly, as usual, but Graves spoke before I could excuse myself.

“Young master. We’ve double-checked the records.”

“Yes?” I said.

“There is no evidence of any resident household staff.”

That was scary.

“Therefore, they do not exist, or they weren’t important enough to enter the closed records.”

Hang on, the what?

“Are you certain the closed records haven’t been tampered with?” I said.

“Don’t worry. They have been extensively proofed against history-altering mechanisms; you can trust the strength of this conclusion.”

The conclusion that the Duvals had no regard for human life?

“So that means that Acacius gained a resistance to memetic effects, or he’s gone crazy,” Cynara remarked, stabbing her food with her fork a little too hard. “With how erratic he’s been recently, I’ll take my bets on the latter.”

I glanced at Cyprian, who was cutting his steak methodically and ignoring the conversation. I guess he didn’t care if Acacius was a bit unstable after the ritual.

“Thanks for the meal,” I said. “Enjoy the food.” Then I got up and left the room before anyone else could talk to me more.

For all of Acacius’ faults, one thing I really liked about him was that no one seemed to find this unusual.

Later, Graves informed me that Cyprian had left the mansion for other business — presumably cleaning up after the mess in the moon paths.

My days passed peacefully after that. I spent more time reading Acacius’ books, practiced his skills and speech patterns as best as I could, and gave up on trying to decode his journals. They would have to wait unless I picked up cryptography somehow.

I also tried duplicating the out-of-body experience I’d had with Luka, to no avail. My soul seemed determined to stay firmly anchored in Acacius’ body. This was both frustrating and disappointing; in my current circumstances, I needed every tool in my arsenal I could get. I eventually gave up on it as something I would have to investigate later, when I understood more about the world.

At some point, Cynara came to my room and asked me what electives I wanted to take at the Academy.

“What are my options?”

As if anticipating my laziness, she rolled her eyes and thrust a piece of paper at me. I took it in hand and scanned the list.

I didn’t understand some of these titles at all…

After some thought, I picked some that seemed useful.

• Fundamental Frame Theory
• History of history: Introduction to Comparative Methodologies
• Ritual Development and Formation
• Practical Combat Class: Year 2

Although I was a bit worried about skipping Combat Year 1, surely I had enough experience to make up for that.

Cynara looked at my elective choices. Her forehead wrinkled.

“So many electives? Why the sudden interest in theory?”

Was that a lot of electives? “Who knows?”

“I half expected you not to take electives this year at all. And what about weather?”

“What about the weather?” I repeated back at her, but this time, my leading question didn’t yield any results but a scowl.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said, before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

She was so confident about giving me advice, I was curious what classes she’d decided to take, too, but although I probed further later, she wouldn’t give me any details.

When the week finished, Cynara pushed me into packing for the semester. We departed on a carriage that ran way smoother on the roads than I thought it would, pulled by two black horses that I wasn’t sure were actually alive. Before we left, Graves handed me a pouch of money and cautioned me that it was the entirety of my funds for the semester.

Cynara didn’t talk to me. She rested her head on her hand and looked out the window, at the forest passing by.

Such a lush and verdant country. Really… it was enough to make me jealous.

The scenery outside began to blur, faster and faster, flashes of green and blue as if we were moving at great speeds. Inside the carriage, though, we felt no change, only the same sedate pace we’d been traveling at before. It was like the world was moving past us instead of the other way around.

I feigned an expression of indifference so that it seemed like I was both ignoring Cynara and unimpressed by the scenery. But the truth was, I’d never seen anything like this before. Even though I couldn’t make much sense of the shifting world outside, I could barely tear my eyes away.

About half an hour later, the carriage slowed down. The blurred colors coalesced into a broad river that glittered under the midday sun. Willows and riverside grasses dipped their green fingers into the water, waving at the occasional boats that sailed by without smoke or sound.

I liked that our destination was near a river. Bodies of water were good.

Our carriage shifted into place on a smooth black road that traveled parallel to the river. The traffic was divided into two directions, and in each direction, two lanes. Vehicles of various styles and materials traveled on the road: some carriages, some cars, some hovering vehicles. What they had in common was their overall size, height, speed, and ability to signal to others. I guess even for all of Kosmonymia’s mixed systems, it still had road safety standards.

The road took us into a city of slate blue stone, dark lacquered roof tiles, and iron decorations. Most vehicles were diverted to transit centers at the outskirts, from which sleek and glowing trolleys departed at regular intervals. Only a single lane was reserved for personal vehicles like ours, now; the outer lanes were reserved for these public transit vehicles, and the majority of road space was taken up by wide sidewalks and cultivated lanes of greenery. The city was bustling with pedestrians. Towers and building faces showcased elegant patterns formed by mosaics of different colored stones; carved draconic decorations perched atop the swooping angles of the roofs.

It really did feel like something straight out of fantasy. I just hoped it wasn’t secretly hiding some terrible evil. That would be just awful.

Our carriage made its way through the city to a teal, wrought iron arch that stood at the entrance of a long, tree-lined pathway. Beyond the trees, I could see the tops of distant buildings, and a small floating citadel anchored above them by a silver chain.

An elegant banner unfurled beneath the dragon sculpture perched atop the arch.

A new school year begins.

Welcome to Nithemoore!

That was how I, who had never recieved a formal education, was finally sent to school.

Chapter 6 Chapter 8