As they walked, Jessica kept glancing at Jacob, her sharp green eyes flickering toward him every few seconds, as if searching for some subtle change in his mood, something to latch onto. She was certain he knew she had noticed his reaction, just as she was certain he had no intention of addressing it aloud. ‘Why did Lady Hathlin have to mention that?’ she thought with a sigh. A creeping suspicion nestled itself inside her chest that she would be lucky to coax Jacob out of his room again before the month was out.

  "You still have to attend the prince’s banquet too, don’t you?" she said lightly, forcing a smile. "You should buy a new suit. Might make a good impression."

  Jacob didn’t even glance at her. His voice, when it came, was cold and distant. "I have various suits at home. Save your money."

  Jessica exhaled softly, hiding her disappointment behind a tighter smile. That frosty tone always struck her more deeply than she cared to admit. It wasn’t that she didn’t have her own burdens, or that the death of their brother hadn’t cleaved through her heart just as surely, but she still fought, desperately, stubbornly to keep Jacob tethered to the world around him.

  They finally reached their destination, a grand clothing store whose pristine white walls gleamed under the midday sun, the entrance framed by towering doors made of perfectly cut crystal that shimmered with every tiny movement. Inside, the vast space was almost empty, save for two men lazily browsing the rows of fine suits.

  The cold air inside wrapped around Jacob like a second skin, making him shiver despite himself. Jessica, by contrast, only seemed more energized, her face brightening as she immediately set about searching for the perfect dress.

  Jacob, meanwhile, leaned against the far wall and, with a practiced motion, slipped a book from the folds of his coat, letting the familiar weight anchor him as he cracked it open.

  ‘The trajectory of modern research has now shifted from how efficiently runes can be used to how much direct influence they can exert upon the material world. Scholars have turned their minds toward discovering mythic runes—Destruction, Indestructibility, Death, and others that have long been thought impossible to replicate. Yet the most ambitious among them have abandoned even these pursuits in favour of something even older, even grander: Immortality. What once seemed a madman's dream has again entered the realm of serious research.’

  Jacob's lips quirked upward slightly at the thought, absorbed by the promise and danger buried within those scholarly ambitions. He might have read for hours more, lost in speculation, had a hand not begun waving insistently in front of his face.

  He looked up to find Jessica glaring at him, arms crossed, lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. "Come and help me choose a dress," she demanded.

  He shifted his gaze past her and saw Mary, one of Jessica’s attendants, struggling to carry an absurd mountain of dresses piled in her arms.

  "Can't Mary do it?" he muttered, already dreading the ordeal. "You know my fashion sense is questionable at best."

  "Nope." Jessica grabbed his wrist with both hands and started dragging him across the store. "You're helping."

  Jacob considered protesting again, but sighed and resigned himself. ‘She is buying the books I need,’ he reminded himself grimly.

  Thus began a tedious and mystifying series of dress evaluations. To Jacob, every dress looked almost identical, save for the colour or the placement of a few ruffles. But he knew better than to say so aloud. Instead, he forced himself to conjure remarks, some vaguely plausible, others wildly off the mark, that at least gave the appearance of effort.

  Jessica, for her part, seemed both amused and exasperated by his cluelessness, especially when he commented that a flowing blue gown "looked aerodynamic."

  In the end, after much mockery and debate, Jessica chose a scarlet dress that reached her ankles and flared out in layers of intricate ruffles. "It makes me look mature," she announced, twirling once in the mirror with an expression of smug satisfaction.

  Jacob said nothing, relieved merely that the ordeal was over.

  The moment they stepped back onto the street, a rare flicker of excitement crossed Jacob’s face. Without waiting for Jessica to catch up, he hastened toward a small bookshop tucked between two larger stone buildings, practically vibrating with anticipation.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Jessica, clicking her tongue in amusement, followed after him.

  Compared to the clothing store, the bookshop looked humble. Constructed of dark wood and stone, it was smaller than its grand neighbours, but still spacious, easily the size of two modest homes combined.

  Jacob barely paused at the door, pushing it open and inhaling deeply as the scent of ink, parchment, and polished wood enveloped him. It was a smell he found more comforting than any hearth or familiar song.

  He moved quickly through the shelves, mentally ticking off the titles he needed: Basic Runes and Their Uses, The Sorcerer’s Guidebook, and A Guide to Improving Physical Strength. They were popular enough that he found them easily, stacking them neatly under his arm as he prepared to check out.

  Then, a conversation caught his ear.

  "Can you believe it?" a young, cheerful male voice said, brimming with awe. "Grand Scholar Lazarus actually wrote a book on rune theory!"

  Jacob froze.

  Another voice, a girl's, calmer and melodious replied, "I'm still shocked you found out it was being distributed today."

  "Don't worry about that," the boy said proudly. "Just know that in the next three minutes, five copies of Grand Scholar Lazarus’ book will be available here."

  Jacob's heart pounded. Everyone knew who Grand Scholar Lazarus was. The oldest living Grand Sorcerer in Eterna, a figure so steeped in power and mystery that entire generations revered him as a living legend. His mastery over runery was said to defy comprehension, and his role in defending the continent from ancient threats had made him one of the very pillars upon which their civilization rested.

  ‘And now he’s written a book,’ Jacob thought, his hands trembling slightly.

  Without hesitation, he edged closer to the voices, peering around a towering bookshelf to catch a glimpse of the speakers. A short, round-faced boy beamed as he spoke, while a slender girl with quick, intelligent eyes nodded along.

  Jacob hardly saw them. His entire focus was on their movements.

  Moments later, they dashed off toward a quiet corner of the store, and Jacob, silent as a shadow, followed.

  The boy triumphantly pulled a thick tome from the shelf and waved it in the air. "What did I tell you?" he crowed. "My information is always correct!"

  The girl smiled faintly, grabbing her own copy.

  As they hurried away, Jacob rushed forward. His eyes scanned the shelves, searching feverishly, until, ‘there.’

  "Basic to Advanced Rune Theory by Grand Scholar Lazarus," he whispered aloud, reverently running a hand over the cover.

  The book was colossal, easily two thousand pages thick, bound in a material he couldn’t identify, a hard, smooth surface dyed a deep brown, with the title emblazoned in vivid crimson letters across the front and spine.

  Jacob clutched it to his chest like a drowning man finding driftwood and bolted toward the checkout, searching for Jessica.

  She was already waiting at the counter, arms crossed, looking faintly exasperated. Jacob gave her a quick nod and placed his stack of books on the counter before the store clerk.

  But he hesitated.

  The clerk wasn't a mere worker. It was the owner himself, a wealthy nobleman, usually far too important to bother with selling books directly. Jacob's eyes narrowed. ‘He's here because of Lazarus' book,’he realized.

  Still, fortune favoured him. The owner gave the thick tome only a brief glance before tallying up the total.

  "One hundred forty-five rin," he said.

  Jacob blinked. He had prepared to borrow money from Belemir, expecting the price to be several thousand rin at least. To find it barely more expensive than an ordinary text left him momentarily stunned.

  Jessica, smiling slightly at his expression, handed over the coins without complaint, and before anyone could change their mind, Jacob seized his new treasures and fled the shop.

  They headed next toward the Aspect Measuring Centre, a gleaming tower owned by the Sorcerer’s Research Association, the largest and most prestigious sorcerous body in Eterna. The tower rose so high into the sky that the highest point was almost lost against the clouds.

  Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with tension. Men and women paced nervously, their whispers filling the air like restless spirits. Jacob caught fragments of conversation—Lazarus wrote a book, did you hear? Only a few copies available...

  Jessica turned to him, wide-eyed. "Can you hear them? It’s true, Grand Scholar Lazarus wrote a book!"

  Jacob offered her a rare smile before striding toward the reception desk, where a young attendant was arguing with two customers.

  Jacob tapped lightly on the desk, clearing his throat.

  The attendant snapped, "Can't you see I’m tal—" before his gaze landed on Jacob, and his entire demeanour changed in an instant. "Ah, Young Master Skydrid! What an honour to serve you today," he said, bowing so low his nose nearly touched the desk.

  Jacob wasted no time, quickly registering to take his Aspect Test the following week.

  Jessica, watching him, noted the impatience in his every movement. To anyone else, it would seem strange, unnatural, even but she knew him too well. She merely smiled, attributing his urgency to the newly purchased books.

  Once finished, Jacob turned on his heel and practically sprinted for the carriage, Belemir hurrying to catch up.

  "Young Master, is something wrong?" Belemir asked, bewildered by the rare sight of Jacob’s wide, unguarded grin.

  Jacob hesitated for a moment, then leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

  "Would you believe me if I said I got my hands on one of Lazarus’ books?"

  Belemir stared at him, utterly speechless, before groaning and burying his face in his hands.

  There was no need for words.

  Jacob wasn’t leaving his room for weeks.