Morning came too early, as it always did when you were dreading the day ahead.
I stood in the doorway of The Tired Dragon, watching the heroes prepare for the journey to Lumenhaven. Yuki sat on the edge of the wagon they'd rented, staring at her corrupted hand. The dark veins had spread further overnight—now they reached past her elbow, pulsing with a faint purple light that made my stomach turn.
I'd seen this before. Nine hundred years ago, in my workshop, when Valdris and I were testing the crystal's limits. We'd used rats at first, then larger animals. The corruption always followed the same pattern: hunger, irritability, physical changes, and then…
I pushed the memory away. That wasn't going to happen to Yuki. I wouldn't let it.
"You're really coming with us?" Ren asked, approaching with his usual earnest expression. The kid looked like he hadn't slept. "You don't have to. We can—"
"Someone needs to explain what happened to the healers," I interrupted, shouldering my travel pack. It was lighter than it should have been—I'd left most of my emergency supplies in the hidden vault beneath the tavern. No point carrying around artifacts that would raise questions. "Besides, I'm the only witness to what that crystal actually did."
And the only person alive who knows how to break the curse, I didn't add, except for the Demon Lord, who's probably going to kill me on sight.
"We appreciate it," Ren said, though his eyes kept drifting back to Yuki. "I just… I don't know what to do. How do I help her?"
I wanted to tell him the truth. That his girlfriend was bound to an artifact of such concentrated dark magic that it made necromancy look like party tricks, that every hour she kept it, the corruption would spread deeper. That in a few weeks, maybe less, she'd be too far gone to save.
Instead, I said, "You help her by getting her to someone who can break the curse. That's all you can do."
"And you think we'll find someone in Lumenhaven?"
I thought about the Royal Academy, about the mages and healers who'd be horrified by what they saw. About the library where I'd donated half the books under various pseudonyms over the centuries. About the restricted section where my own research notes were probably still gathering dust.
"It's our best shot," I said, which was technically true. It was our best shot at finding a solution that didn't involve me revealing I was older than most of the buildings in the capital.
Sora appeared from around the wagon, her eyes sharp as always. "Ready to go, bartender? Or do you need to lock up your mysterious dungeon first?"
There was an edge to her voice. She'd been like this since yesterday—watching me, questioning everything I said. Smart girl. Too smart for my comfort.
"Already locked," I said casually. "Not that it matters. The wards will keep anyone else out."
"Wards you just happened to know how to activate?"
"Lucky guess."
"Right." She didn't believe me for a second. "You're full of lucky guesses, aren't you?"
Before I could respond, Yuki's voice cut through the morning air: "Can we just GO already?"
We all turned. She was standing now, her corrupted hand clenched into a fist. Her eyes—normally a warm brown—flickered with something darker for just a moment. The air around her crackled with barely-contained energy.
"Yuki—" Ren started.
"I'm FINE," she snapped, then immediately looked horrified at her own tone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just… I can feel it. The crystal. It's like it's whispering to me. Telling me I could do so much more if I… if I just let go…"
Her voice trailed off, and I saw the fear in her eyes—the fear of what she was becoming.
I knew that fear. I'd seen it in Valdris's eyes, right before he stopped listening to my warnings.
"Then we don't waste any more time," I said, climbing onto the wagon. "Lumenhaven is a two-day journey. The sooner we get there, the sooner we find answers."
The sooner I figure out how to fix this without revealing I'm the idiot who created the problem in the first place.
The road to Lumenhaven was well-maintained—I should know, I'd helped fund the paving project about three hundred years ago under the name "Merchant Goldhand." The kingdom had done a decent job keeping it up, which was more than I could say for most of my infrastructure investments.
We traveled in uncomfortable silence for the first few hours. Ren drove the wagon while Hiro sat beside him, occasionally muttering prayers to Solara. Yuki sat in the back, staring at her hand. Sora rode her horse alongside us, watching everything.
And I sat in the back corner of the wagon, pretending to doze while internally cataloging every symptom of Yuki's corruption.
Hour three: She started scratching at her arm where the veins were darkest.
Hour five: She snapped at Ren for asking if she wanted water.
Hour seven: I caught her staring at Hiro's holy symbol with an expression of pure hunger.
By the time we stopped for lunch, I was seriously considering just revealing everything and breaking the curse myself. The only thing stopping me was the knowledge that once I did, there'd be no going back. The heroes would know. Word would spread. And then everyone would know the Eternal Wanderer wasn't just a legend.
The gods would find out. My former students—now deities themselves—would come looking for answers. Valdris would hear about it.
And my quiet life would be over forever.
"Kaito?"
I looked up to find Yuki standing over me, her corrupted hand hidden behind her back. Her eyes were clearer now, more like her normal self.
"Can I talk to you? Alone?"
Oh no.
"Sure," I said, standing and following her away from the group. We walked until we were out of earshot, stopping near a cluster of trees by the roadside.
Yuki turned to face me, and I saw the intelligence in her eyes. The same intelligence that had made Lyra—Luna—such a brilliant student. The same intelligence that was now working against me.
"You know what this is," she said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"I know it's a cursed artifact—"
"No." She held up her corrupted hand. "You know EXACTLY what this is. You knew the moment I picked it up. You tried to stop me, but you were too late. And ever since then, you've been… different. Worried. Like you're carrying a secret."
My heart was pounding. "Yuki—"
"That workshop. Those journals. They mentioned someone named 'V.' Someone who was a student. Someone who learned magic from whoever owned that place." Her eyes locked onto mine. "You knew that person, didn't you? The owner of the workshop?"
I could lie. I was good at lying—I'd had over a thousand years of practice.
But looking at this young mage, corrupted by my own creation, fighting to stay herself while dark magic whispered in her mind… I couldn't do it.
"Yes," I said quietly. "I knew them."
"How old are you, Kaito?"
The question hung in the air between us. I could see her mind working, putting pieces together. The ancient workshop. My knowledge of the crystal. The way I knew exactly where to find the dungeon.
"Old enough to know better," I said, which was both true and completely inadequate.
She studied me for a long moment, and I could see her on the edge of asking the real question. The one that would change everything.
Then her eyes flickered dark again, and she gasped, clutching her corrupted hand. "It's getting worse. I can feel it spreading. Like… like roots growing through my veins."
"We'll find a way to stop it," I promised, grateful for the interruption even as I hated myself for being grateful. "Lumenhaven has the best healers in the kingdom."
"And if they can't help?"
I thought about Luna's temple. About my former student who'd become a goddess of magic. About the conversation I'd been dreading for seven hundred years.
"Then we find someone who can," I said.
Yuki nodded slowly, then looked at me with those too-knowing eyes. "You're hiding something. Something big. I can feel it." She paused. "But I also think… I think you're trying to help. So I'm going to trust you. For now."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." She turned back toward the wagon. "If I turn into a monster, I'm blaming you."
I watched her walk away, and I couldn't help thinking: You should blame me. This is all my fault.
We reached Lumenhaven at sunset on the second day.
The capital of Aethermoor rose from the plains like a crown of white stone, built on seven hills just as King Aldric had envisioned over a thousand years ago. I'd been there when they laid the first foundation stone. I'd helped design the street layout. I'd enchanted the magical street lamps that now flickered to life as darkness fell, casting the city in a warm golden glow.
It never got easier, seeing my work outlive me.
"By the gods," Ren breathed. "It's beautiful."
It was. The white walls gleamed in the fading light. The seven hills were crowned with different districts—the Royal Palace on the highest, the Academy on the second, the Temple District on the third. The streets were clean and well-lit. People moved through the evening crowds with purpose and prosperity.
I'd helped build this. And now I was sneaking back in, hoping no one would recognize me.
Story of my life.
We passed through the main gates without incident—the guards barely glanced at us—just another group of adventurers seeking their fortune in the capital. We found an inn in the merchant district, a respectable place called The Golden Griffin that charged two silver crowns per room per night.
"Highway robbery," Sora muttered, but she paid anyway.
I offered to cover my own room, pulling out coins from my "emergency travel fund." In reality, I had an account at the Goldwater Vaults under the name "Aurelius Goldhand," holding about two million crowns. But explaining that would raise questions I didn't want to answer.
We gathered in the common room to plan our next move. Yuki sat with her corrupted hand wrapped in cloth, trying to hide it from the other patrons. It wasn't working—I could see people staring, whispering.
Dark magic had a stigma. Especially here, in the heart of Aethermoor, where the Church of Solara held significant influence.
"Tomorrow, we start with the healers," Ren said, trying to sound confident. "Someone in this city has to know how to help."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that the best healers in Lumenhaven would take one look at Yuki and refuse to touch her. Dark magic corruption wasn't something you cured with a prayer and some holy water.
But I let him have his hope. He'd need it for what was coming.
The first healer we visited was a priestess of Solara named Sister Margarethe. Her temple was in the religious district, all white marble and golden sunbursts. The moment we walked in, I felt the divine magic in the air—warm, comforting, and completely antithetical to what was corrupting Yuki.
Sister Margarethe was a kind-looking woman in her fifties, with silver hair and gentle eyes. Those eyes went wide with horror the moment Yuki unwrapped her hand.
"Dark magic," she whispered, taking a step back. "Child, what have you done?"
"It was an accident," Ren said quickly. "She picked up a cursed artifact. We need help breaking the curse."
"I cannot." The priestess's voice was firm. "Dark magic is the domain of evil. To touch it would corrupt my own soul. I'm sorry, but you must seek help elsewhere."
"Please," Yuki said, and I could hear the desperation in her voice. "I can feel it spreading. I don't want to become a monster."
Sister Margarethe's expression softened, but she shook her head. "I will pray for you, child. But this is beyond my power. Perhaps the Academy—"
"The Academy," Sora interrupted. "You think they can help?"
"If anyone can, it would be the archmages. They study all forms of magic, even the forbidden arts." She looked at Yuki with genuine sympathy. "Go to the Royal Academy. Ask for Master Aldric. He's the foremost expert on curses in the kingdom."
Master Aldric. I managed not to react to the name, but I was cursing inwardly. Aldric Stormwind is one of the most brilliant mages of this generation. Also, one of the most self-righteous. This was going to be fun.
We thanked the priestess and left. Yuki was quiet, her shoulders slumped.
"It's okay," Ren said, taking her good hand. "We'll find someone."
But I could see the doubt in his eyes.
The second healer was a secular mage named Cornelius who ran a clinic in the merchant district. He was more willing to examine Yuki, but after ten minutes of diagnostic spells, he shook his head.
"This is beyond me," he admitted. "The corruption is too deep, too complex. This isn't just a curse—it's a binding. The artifact has merged with her magical core. Removing it would require…" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"Would require what?" Sora demanded.
"Power I don't possess. And knowledge I don't have." He looked at me. "You said you witnessed the binding?"
"Yes."
"Then you know this is ancient magic. Pre-Cataclysm, if I'm not mistaken. The kind of magic that hasn't been practiced in centuries." His eyes narrowed. "Where exactly did you find this artifact?"
"An old dungeon," I said vaguely. "Does it matter?"
"It might. If we knew who created it, we might be able to find their research notes. Understand how it works." He turned back to Yuki. "I can give you something to slow the corruption. A suppression potion. It won't cure you, but it might buy you time."
"How much time?" Yuki asked.
"A few hours per dose. Maybe less as the corruption progresses." He moved to his shelves, pulling down various ingredients. "I can make you a week's supply. After that…" He didn't finish the sentence.
We waited while he brewed the potion. It took an hour, and the smell was awful—like burnt hair and rotting flowers. When he finally handed Yuki a vial of thick purple liquid, she drank it without hesitation.
The effect was immediate. The dark veins faded slightly, and the hunger in her eyes dimmed. She sagged with relief.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Don't thank me yet," Cornelius said grimly. "This is a temporary measure. You need to find a real cure, and soon. I'd estimate you have two weeks, maybe three, before the corruption becomes irreversible."
Two weeks.
I'd been hoping for more time.
We tried three more healers that afternoon. All of them said the same thing: the corruption was too advanced, too complex, too dangerous. One of them actually tried to call the city guard, claiming Yuki was a dark mage who needed to be arrested.
We left that one quickly.
By evening, we were back at The Golden Griffin, exhausted and discouraged. Yuki had taken another dose of the suppression potion, but I could see it was working less effectively than the first. The dark veins were already starting to show again.
"There has to be someone," Ren said, pacing the common room. "Someone in this city who can help."
"The Academy," Hiro said quietly. He'd been silent most of the day, praying constantly. "Sister Margarethe mentioned the Academy. They have the largest magical library in the kingdom. If there's information about this curse anywhere, it would be there."
I felt my stomach drop. The Royal Academy. Where I'd studied briefly under a false name about six hundred years ago. Where I'd donated dozens of books on advanced magical theory. Where my own research notes on curse-breaking were probably still in the restricted section.
"The library," Sora said, looking at me. "You know about it, don't you? You've been to Lumenhaven before."
"Once or twice," I admitted. "A long time ago."
"How long?"
"Does it matter?"
"It might." She leaned forward. "Because every healer we've seen today has said the same thing: this is ancient magic. Pre-Cataclysm. The kind of magic that hasn't been practiced in centuries." Her eyes locked onto mine. "And you seem to know an awful lot about it."
The table went quiet. Everyone was looking at me now.
"I read a lot," I said weakly.
"Right." Sora didn't look away. "You read a lot. You know about ancient dungeons. You know about cursed artifacts. You know about magic that hasn't been used in centuries. And you happen to run a tavern in a border town." She paused. "Who are you really, Kaito?"
I could feel Yuki watching me, remembering our conversation from yesterday. Ren looked confused. Hiro looked concerned.
And I was trapped.
"I'm someone who's trying to help," I said finally. "That's all that matters right now."
"Is it?" Sora pressed. "Because I'm starting to think—"
"Enough." Yuki's voice cut through the tension. She stood, her corrupted hand clenched at her side. "Sora, I know you're suspicious. I am too. But right now, I don't care who Kaito is or what he's hiding. I care about not turning into a monster." She looked at me. "You said the Academy library is our best shot?"
"Yes," I said quietly.
"Then that's where we go tomorrow." She turned to the others. "All of you, get some rest. We have a long day ahead."
As the group dispersed to their rooms, I caught Yuki's eye. She gave me a small nod—a silent acknowledgment that she was buying me time. But her expression said clearly: I will get answers eventually.
I nodded back. Fair enough.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I stood at the window of my room, looking out over Lumenhaven. The magical street lamps cast everything in a warm glow. In the distance, I could see the Academy on its hill, the great library's tower rising above the other buildings.
I'd been in that library so many times over the centuries. I'd studied there. Taught there, briefly, under a false name—donated books. Even helped design the security wards for the restricted section.
And now I was going back, hoping to find a solution to a problem I'd created.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
My thoughts drifted to Valdris. Was he watching? Did he know what had happened? The crystal had been in that workshop for nine hundred years, untouched. And now, the moment someone picked it up, everything was falling apart.
Just like old times, I thought bitterly.
A knock at my door interrupted my brooding. I opened it to find Yuki standing there, her corrupted hand wrapped in fresh bandages.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked.
"Something like that."
She stepped into the room without invitation, moving to the window. For a long moment, we stood in silence, looking out over the city.
"I'm scared," she said finally. "Not just of the corruption. I'm scared of what I might become. What I might do." She looked at her bandaged hand. "The crystal whispers to me. Tells me I could be so powerful. That I could reshape the world, and the worst part is… part of me wants to listen."
"Don't," I said quietly. "That's the corruption talking. It's not you."
"How do you know?" She turned to face me. "How do you know what's me and what's the curse anymore? Because I don't."
I wanted to tell her about Valdris. About watching my student slowly succumb to the same whispers, the same promises of power, about how I'd failed to save him.
Instead, I said, "Because you're here. Because you're fighting it. Because you're scared of what you might become—and that fear means you're still you."
She studied me for a long moment. "You've seen this before, haven't you? This kind of corruption."
"Yes."
"What happened to them? The person you saw corrupted?"
I thought about Valdris, about the Demon Lord who'd once been like a son to me. About the choice I'd have to make if we couldn't break this curse.
"They lost themselves," I said quietly. "And I couldn't save them."
Yuki nodded slowly. "Then don't let that happen to me. Please. Whatever it takes, whatever secrets you're hiding… don't let me become a monster."
"I won't," I promised. "Even if it means revealing things I've kept hidden for a very long time."
She smiled sadly. "I knew you were hiding something big. Thank you for admitting it."
"Don't thank me yet. You might not like what you learn."
"Maybe." She moved toward the door, then paused. "Kaito? That person you couldn't save. The one who got corrupted. Were they important to you?"
I thought about Valdris. About thirty-seven years of teaching, laughing, arguing, and learning together. About watching him leave, knowing I'd failed him.
"Yes," I said. "Very important."
Yuki nodded. "Then I understand why you're so determined to help me. You're trying to save me because you couldn't save them."
She left before I could respond.
I stood there, staring at the closed door, and realized she was right. I was trying to save Yuki because I'd failed Valdris. Because I couldn't bear to watch another student fall to the same darkness.
Because maybe, just maybe, if I saved her, it would make up for all the people I'd failed over the centuries.
Spoiler alert: it wouldn't.
But I had to try anyway.
Morning came with a knock on my door. Ren stood there, looking determined.
"We're going to the Academy," he said. "Master Aldric agreed to see us. Apparently, word has spread about a mage with dark magic corruption, and he's… curious."
Curious. That was one word for it. Aldric Stormwind was known for his academic interest in forbidden magic. He studied it, cataloged it, and wrote papers about it. He just never practiced it.
He was also insufferably arrogant and had once tried to correct my magical theory in a public lecture. I'd been using a pseudonym at the time, so I couldn't exactly tell him I'd invented the theory he was "correcting."
This was going to be fun.
We gathered in the common room. Yuki had taken another dose of the suppression potion, but I could see it was barely working now. The dark veins were visible even through the bandages, and her eyes had a permanent shadow.
We were running out of time.
The Royal Academy sat on the second-highest hill in Lumenhaven, a sprawling complex of white stone buildings and towers. The main library was the centerpiece—a massive structure with a tower that reached toward the sky like a finger pointing at the gods.
I'd helped design that tower. The irony of returning to my own architecture to solve a problem I'd created was not lost on me.
We were met at the gates by a young apprentice who led us through the grounds. Students hurried past, carrying books and magical implements. I recognized some of the teaching methods—I'd introduced them about four hundred years ago.
Stop noticing things, I told myself. You're supposed to be a simple bartender.
Master Aldric's office was in the library tower, three floors up. The apprentice knocked, and a voice called out: "Enter!"
We filed in to find a man in his sixties sitting behind a desk covered in books and papers. Aldric Stormwind had the look of a scholar who'd spent too much time indoors—pale skin, sharp eyes behind spectacles, ink stains on his fingers. He looked up as we entered, and his gaze immediately fixed on Yuki.
"Fascinating," he murmured, standing. "May I see?"
Yuki hesitated, then unwrapped her hand. The dark veins pulsed with corrupt energy, spreading up past her elbow now. Aldric leaned in, studying it with the detached interest of a scientist examining a specimen.
"Remarkable. The corruption pattern is consistent with pre-Cataclysm dark magic. Specifically, the binding style used in the late Imperial period." He looked at Yuki. "Where did you encounter this artifact?"
"An old dungeon," Ren said. "We were exploring—"
"Not you." Aldric's eyes fixed on me. "You. You were there when the binding occurred, yes?"
"Yes."
"Describe the artifact."
I described the crystal, leaving out the part where I'd helped create it. Aldric listened intently, occasionally making notes.
"A power amplification crystal with a dark magic core," he said when I finished. "Extremely rare. Extremely dangerous. The binding is permanent—the artifact has merged with her magical essence. Removing it would kill her."
"Then how do we break the curse?" Ren demanded.
Aldric looked at him like he was a particularly slow student. "You don't. The curse is the binding. They're the same thing. The only way to break it would be for the original creator to undo their work. And since this artifact is at least eight hundred years old, I'd say that's unlikely."
My heart sank. He was right, of course. Only Valdris and I could break the binding. And I couldn't exactly volunteer that information.
"There has to be another way," Yuki said, her voice tight with desperation.
"Perhaps." Aldric moved to his bookshelves. "The library's restricted section contains research on curse-breaking from the pre-Cataclysm era. If there's an alternative solution, it would be there. However, access is limited to senior faculty and approved researchers."
"We need access," Sora said firmly.
"I can arrange it. For a price." Aldric smiled. "I want a full report on the artifact's effects. Detailed observations of the corruption's progression. This is a unique opportunity to study dark magic binding in a living subject."
"She's not a research subject," Ren growled.
"No, she's a dying mage who needs my help." Aldric's voice was cold. "I'm offering you access to knowledge that could save her life. In exchange, I want data. That's the deal."
I wanted to punch him. But he was right—we needed that library access.
"Fine," Yuki said before anyone else could object. "You can study me. Just help me find a cure."
Aldric nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. I'll arrange for library access this afternoon. In the meantime, I'll examine you more thoroughly. The rest of you can wait outside."
We filed out, leaving Yuki with the archmage. Ren looked like he wanted to stay, but Sora pulled him away.
"She'll be fine," Sora said. "He's an ass, but he's a competent ass."
We waited in the hallway for what felt like hours. Finally, the door opened, and Yuki emerged, looking exhausted. Aldric followed, making notes.
"Fascinating," he muttered. "The corruption is accelerating faster than I expected. I'd estimate she has a week, perhaps ten days, before it becomes irreversible." He looked up. "The library is open to you—third floor, restricted section. Ask for Librarian Thorne. I've sent word ahead."
"Thank you," Ren said stiffly.
"Don't thank me yet. You may not find what you're looking for." Aldric's eyes fixed on me again. "Though I suspect your bartender friend knows more than he's saying. The way he described that artifact… it was very specific. Almost as if he'd seen one before."
"I read a lot," I said again.
"Hmm." Aldric didn't look convinced. "Well, good luck. You'll need it."
The library's restricted section was everything I remembered—rows of ancient books, scrolls, and manuscripts protected by preservation spells. The air smelled of old paper and magic. Librarian Thorne, a stern woman in her seventies, led us to a reading area and brought us a stack of books on curse-breaking.
"These are the most relevant texts," she said. "Handle them carefully. Some are over a thousand years old."
I recognized several of them. I'd written two of them, under different names. This was going to be awkward.
We spread out, each taking a book. I made a show of reading one I hadn't written, while internally cataloging which texts might actually help. The problem was, none of them would. The binding Valdris and I had created was unique—we'd made sure of that.
Hours passed. Yuki's condition worsened—she had to take another dose of the suppression potion, and it barely helped. The dark veins were spreading faster now, creeping up her neck.
"There has to be something," Ren muttered, flipping through another book.
"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place," Sora said. She was watching me again. "Maybe we should be asking different questions. Like, who created this artifact in the first place?"
"The journals mentioned someone named 'V,'" Hiro said. "A student. Maybe if we could find out who they were—"
"That won't help," I said quickly. Too quickly.
Everyone looked at me.
"Why not?" Sora asked.
Because 'V' is the Demon Lord and asking him for help would be suicide, I didn't say. Instead: "Because even if we found them, they'd have no reason to help us."
"We could offer payment," Ren suggested.
"I don't think money would be enough."
"How do you know?" Sora's eyes narrowed. "Unless you know who 'V' is?"
I was saved from answering by a voice from the doorway: "Kaito? Kaito Yamada? Is that really you?"
My blood turned to ice.
I turned slowly to see an older man standing in the doorway, leaning on a cane. He had to be in his eighties, with white hair and a lined face. But his eyes were sharp, intelligent, and very familiar.
"Professor Theron?" I said, my mind racing. Theron Brightwater. I'd taught him magical theory sixty years ago, when I was using the name "Master Yamada." He'd been a brilliant student, one of the best. And apparently, he'd become a professor at the Academy.
And he'd just recognized me.
"I thought it was you!" Theron moved into the room, smiling. "My gods, you haven't aged a day! How long has it been? Fifty years? Sixty?"
"Something like that," I said weakly.
The heroes were staring at me. Sora's expression said it all.
"You were the best teacher I ever had," Theron continued, oblivious to the tension. "Your lectures on magical theory revolutionized my understanding of arcane principles. I've been using your methods for decades!" He turned to the others. "Do you know who this man is? He's one of the greatest magical minds of our generation!"
"I'm just a bartender," I said desperately.
"Nonsense! You were a master of the arcane arts! Though I must say, I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd retired to…" He trailed off, finally noticing the stares. "Is something wrong?"
"Kaito," Sora said slowly, "was just telling us how he's 'just a bartender' who 'reads a lot.'"
"Bartender?" Theron looked confused. "But you're Master Yamada! You taught at the Academy for five years! You wrote three books on advanced magical theory that are still required reading!"
The silence was deafening.
"Sixty years ago," Yuki said quietly. "He taught you sixty years ago. And you said he hasn't aged a day."
Theron finally realized he'd said something wrong. "Ah. I… perhaps I should go."
"Perhaps you should," I agreed.
He left quickly, and I was left facing four heroes who were looking at me with expressions ranging from shock to suspicion to dawning understanding.
"So," Sora said into the silence. "Just a bartender who reads a lot. Right."
I sighed. This was it—the moment I'd been dreading.
"I can explain," I said.
"Please do," Yuki said. Her eyes were dark with corruption, but also with curiosity. "Because I'm starting to think you know exactly how to break this curse. You've known all along."
I looked at each of them—Ren's confusion, Hiro's concern, Sora's suspicion, Yuki's desperate hope.
And I made a decision.
Not to tell them everything. Not yet. But to give them enough truth to keep going.
"You're right," I said quietly. "I know more than I've been saying. A lot more. But I can't tell you everything. Not here. Not now." I looked at Yuki. "But I promise you this: I will find a way to break that curse. Even if it means revealing secrets I've kept for a very, very long time."
"How long?" Sora asked.
I thought about the answer. About the truth that would change everything.
"Long enough," I said finally. "Long enough to know that we're not going to find the answer in these books. We need to try something else."
"Like what?" Ren asked.
I thought about Luna. About my former student who'd become a goddess. About the conversation I'd been avoiding for seven hundred years.
"Like praying," I said. "To someone who might actually be able to help."
"The gods?" Hiro looked hopeful. "Which one?"
I looked at Yuki, at the dark magic corrupting her, at the desperate hope in her eyes.
"Luna," I said. "Goddess of Magic and the Moon. If anyone can help us understand this curse, it's her."
And if anyone can recognize me and blow my cover completely, it's also her.
But I was out of options.
"There's a temple to Luna in the city," Hiro said. "We could go there tomorrow."
"Then that's what we do," Ren said, looking at Yuki. "We pray to the goddess. And we hope she answers."
I nodded, trying not to think about what would happen when Luna—Lyra—saw me again after seven hundred years.
This is going to be a disaster, I thought.
But what choice did I have?
We left the library as the sun was setting, Yuki leaning on Ren for support. The suppression potion was barely working now. We had a week before the corruption became irreversible.
One week to convince a goddess to help us.
One week before my secrets came crashing down.
I really, really should have just stayed in bed.