Over the next couple of days, Arthur went about his business. From learning the history of Luminara to group exercises in Combat Fundamentals, he had his hands full.
Every night he ate dinner with Amy, talking about the day, letting a more familiar air grow between them. One that Arthur very much welcomed, as his next plans were inching closer to fruition, and he needed one more piece of the puzzle to fall into place before he could begin.
Standing in front of the mirror, Arthur straightened out his uniform, making sure he looked proper. Mira stood attentive nearby, watching her master tidy himself up as he prepared to meet with his club.
'The club should have resources on concealment inscriptions something that masks a person's presence from detection. If I can get the theory right, I can inscribe an amulet for Amy. Maybe Helena would know.'
"I hope Master has a splendid time with his clubmates."
"I too wish to have a good time. Hopefully I'm able to get what I need out of the meeting." Arthur turns, standing in front of Mira, looking at her as she remains poised like a good maid.
He could tell Mira was feeling much better after the other night — and the fact that he'd gone and explained his plans to her.
"And do you think she'll follow suit? Amy, that is." Mira asks.
"Whether she believes it or not, she's already going down a path of no return. I'm just here to give her a little push." Arthur grins.
Mira shakes her head. "If I wasn't already in your web, I would have thought you were some creepy old man reincarnated."
Arthur twitches at her words. "And maybe you were a—"
"Careful, Master." Mira holds up a finger. "Finish that sentence and I'll tell Amy what you sound like when you're humiliated."
Arthur's mouth closes.
'...She wouldn't.'
He looks at her. The smile on her face says she absolutely would.
"Tch. Fine, but later tonight, you better clean this room, because I'm going to make a mess of it after I'm done with you." Arthur turns away.
"I look forward to it, Master." Mira bows, her voice dripping with the kind of obedience that was one part devotion and two parts smugness.
Arthur grabs Alderman's Principles of Inscription and Binding off the desk and tucks it under his arm, the bookmarked sections on concealment arrays pressing against his ribs.
"Have a good evening, Mira."
"Have fun at your club."
He steps into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The click of the latch barely settles before he hears Mira humming to herself on the other side.
'Just you wait I'll show you.' Arthur tightens his hand into a fist flames of revenge bursting in his heart.
Arthur stepped through the front entrance of Harmon Hall, the academy's dedicated Rune and Glyphwork building. Three stories of stone and reinforced timber, the structure sat at the eastern edge of campus between the library and the faculty offices. It wasn't the largest building on the grounds, but it was one of the busiest.
The ground floor was an open workshop space with long stone tables that ran in rows down the center. Each one scarred with old burn marks and etching grooves from years of use.
Students hunched over glyph plates at nearly every station with some inscribing, and others arguing over array configurations with chalk diagrams spread between them.
A pair of second-years near the entrance were testing a light-based rune plate, feeding it mana in short bursts. Each pulse sent a flicker of pale blue across the stone surface before fading. One of them shook his head and scraped the inscription clean with a flat tool, starting over.
Further in, a group of four were crowded around a single workstation, debating loudly enough for Arthur to catch fragments as he passed.
"—the activation sequence is backwards, that's why it's not holding—"
"It's not backwards, the mana flow just needs a wider channel on the third pass—"
"You're both wrong. The base glyph is crooked the linework is sloppy, you must have been rushing."
Arthur offers the correction in passing, not slowing his stride as he continues along. The arguing behind him pauses for a beat, then resumes louder than before now with a third opinion to fight over.
He took the stairs to the second floor, research papers and reference texts were pinned to cork boards along the walls, some with handwritten notes scrawled in the margins. Arthur's eyes caught a few headings as he passed — Layered Resonance in Tertiary Arrays, Hargaven's Limit Applied to Multi-Node Sequences — the kind of material that he would love to look over.
But before that he must attend his own duties as long at the end of the corridor he see it. Room 207 where Rune & Glyph Club meet.
He stepped inside.
The workshop was larger than most classrooms in Harmon Hall. Individual stations lined the walls, each one equipped with inscription tools, flat stone surfaces for glyph work, and mounted magnification lenses for fine detail. Shelves of reference materials and sample arrays ran along the back behind glass cases, their contents ranging from basic bronze all the way to gold.
The room was fuller than Arthur expected. At least fifteen members were scattered across the stations and tables some working on individual projects, others gathered in small clusters reviewing notes. The hum of quiet conversation and the faint scratch of inscription tools gave the space a working energy that felt more like a forge than a classroom.
"Hey, you're one of the first-years who joined this term right?"
Arthur turned. A boy around third-year age stood beside him, lean build, ink-stained fingers, a Virtues emblem on his chest. He had the look of someone who spent more time in this workshop than his own dorm.
"Yeah. Arthur Webb."
The boy's eyebrows rose slightly not shock, more like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
"Oh, you're that kid. The one from the family of..." He caught himself, glancing sideways for a second before apparently deciding Arthur wasn't the type to take offense. "...the whore bloodline family. And captain of this generation's Mythic's squad in Combat Fundamentals, right?"
"That's me." Arthur said it flatly. The words had stopped stinging a long time ago.
"Fair enough. My name's Declan." He extended a hand and Arthur shook it. "Welcome to Rune and Glyph Club properly, I mean. I know you signed up through Helena a weeks back, but this is your first time joining us for a meet up."
Arthur glanced around the room. "Bigger turnout than I expected."
"Yeah, that's because the president is back." Declan nodded toward the front of the room where the inscription board stood. "He's been out on a field mission for the past month senior capstone stuff. He just got back yesterday, so he's going to share some of what he learned out there. Give a quick speech, drop some wisdom, that sort of thing."
"And after that?"
"After that we go over the club's agenda for the next few weeks projects, research priorities, and open workshop time. You'll get a feel for how things run." Declan clapped him on the shoulder. "Grab a seat. He should be starting soon."
Arthur nodded and made his way toward the central tables. Along the way he spotted Helena her platinum blonde hair unmistakable even in a room full of people.
She sat by the tall windows, the late afternoon light cutting across her in golden bands that made her almost shine. Her platinum hair caught every ray, falling past her shoulders like spun silver against the dark fabric of her Virtues uniform.
The jacket hugged her body, cinching at the waist, and pulling across her chest just enough to outline her breast that shaped her to look like a model.
Her legs stretched long beneath the table, crossed at the knee, the tailored trousers following the shape of her thighs down to a pair of heeled boots.
She looked less like a student and more like a painting someone had hung in the wrong room.
A stack of papers spread in front of her, pen still moving across the top page. She caught his eye as he passed and gave him a nod.
"Webb."
"Lysander."
He took a seat near the middle where he had a clear line of sight to both the inscription board and the room's entrance. His book sat in his lap, the concealment array section pressing against his thigh.
Brandon sat a few seats from Helena, his usual spot. He glanced at Arthur as he took his seat a look that didn't carry hostility but didn't carry warmth either. The kind of side-eye that said I tolerate you because Helena vouched for you.'
Arthur met it with a nod. Brandon returned it stiffly and went back to his notes.
'Still not sold on having a Webb huh...'
Before Arthur could settle in, the room's chatter began to die down. Chairs scraped as people turned toward the front. Someone near the door pulled it shut.
A figure stepped up to the inscription board.
He was tall in shape and stature, built with a sixth year emblem of House Virtues on his uniform. His hands dyed in ink and calluses that Arthur could see from his seat but what really caught Arthur's eye was his presence.
His presence settled over the room like a blanket being drawn tight, and every person in it felt the sudden, inexplicable need to pay attention. Conversations that had been dying naturally went silent all at once. Fidgeting stopped as all eyes locked forward to the figure demanding their attention.
'His bloodline.' Arthur's fingers tightened around his pen. 'I've heard of people having an aura based bloodline but this is my first time feeling one.'
Standing there he loomed over the room and without even a touch of his hand the chalk that rested on the table floated in the air, its point hitting the board where a name was then written.
Silus Vane.
"For those who don't know me I'm Silus Vane. Sixth year president of the Glyph and Rune Club. And welcome to our humble adobe."
Author Note: Patreon.com/Lord_Cuckles or search TabooQuill for advance chapters.