When River returned to his dorm, Callum was sitting at the desk, scribbling something into a small notebook. The moment he noticed River, he snapped it shut with a bit too much urgency.                                    Callum cleared his throat and tapped a rune etched into the wall. “Dinner’s in thirty-five minutes,” he said, glancing up. “You’re probably exhausted. First soul training class is always brutal — especially Archibald’s. His are designed to knock you flat on your ass.”                                    River nodded slowly, but truthfully, he didn’t feel tired. He might’ve been drained right after the duel with Amalia, but whatever that sensation had been, it was long gone. He felt... fine. Just like all the other days since his powers had first awakened. Still, he didn’t feel like dwelling on it.

  He climbed the narrow steps to the top bunk. As his torso hit the mattress, he melted into it and closed his eyes.

  But sleep wouldn’t come. He’d given up any chance of anonymity — and with it, the quiet comfort of being invisible. The thought didn’t sit well with him.                                    If he wanted to survive, he needed strength. And strength meant knowledge.                                    His thoughts pressed in, each one heavier than the last. Breathing grew shallow. Finally, his focus slipped.

  What was that creature in the void?

  Why didn’t he feel hunger anymore?

  Why didn’t he get tired?

  Who were the Twelve, really?

  And most of all, how could he gain control, real control, as fast as possible? His head started to ache with the weight of it all. Sighing, River sat back up and swung his legs over the edge. “Hey... can you cover for me at dinner? Tell anyone who asks I’m sick or something.”                                    Callum looked up, suspicious. “Why? You about to do something stupid?”                                    River smirked. “Depends on your definition of stupid, my fine man.”                                    Callum chuckled, shaking his head. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. But yeah, sure.”                                    “Thanks,” River said, voice low.

  All he had to do was wait—let the noise of dinner cover his escape. Then the library would be quiet, and he could slip away. He figured he had an hour, if he was lucky. River lay still, listening. Suddenly, he heard the familiar click of the door swinging open, followed by footsteps and scattered conversations in the hallway.

  “Can you not close the door all the way?” River called down to Callum, his voice just loud enough to carry. If the door stayed cracked, he’d hear when the corridors cleared.                                    Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. The noise outside grew thinner—fewer footsteps, fewer voices, until at last, silence settled.                                    River swung down from his bunk and crept to the doorway, peeking into the hall. Nothing but empty gray walls and bright magical lights. Good.

  He moved to the nearest wall map, placing his hand against the smooth surface. Feeding a trickle of essence into it, he held the image of the library firmly in his mind. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the map flared softly to life, lines of fire carving a glowing path across the surface, leading from his location to the library. Down the corridor... third right... down two flights of stairs... straight ahead.                                    River whispered the directions to himself under his breath as he moved, repeating them over and over like a mantra. Before he knew it, he was standing before a door unlike any he had seen so far. While most doors in the academy were stone, framed by runes and shimmered faintly blue, this one was different, rich brown, the texture of old, worn leather.                                    It seemed almost... alive. He could swear it was breathing—but maybe that was just his imagination.                                    Curious, River stepped closer, running his hand lightly over the surface. Near the center, at chest height, was a narrow slit, almost like a mailbox slot.                                    He didn’t hesitate. Slipping the library card Archibald had given him into the slot, he waited. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the door pulsed faintly, a deep hum vibrating through the ground. A low, monotone voice spoke from the door itself.

  “Welcome, River. You may pass within and peruse my library.” River blinked, letting out a quiet breath. A talking door was odd... but at this point, it barely even surprised him.

  His eyes flew open as he glanced into the library—and immediately widened in shock. It was bigger than he had ever imagined. In fact, it held more books than he thought existed in the entire world.                                    Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling—at least five meters high. The rows extended so far they vanished into shadow. It felt more like stepping into a forest than a building—one where the trees were made of endless volumes and ancient tomes.

  River hesitated. How was he even supposed to start?

  Then he noticed a desk to the left of the entrance. It looked like it should have been occupied by a librarian, someone who could help new students navigate the endless maze. But right now, it sat empty, the entire library cloaked in silence.

  He made his way over to the desk and looked around. A single, massive book sat open atop it, its cover reading: Glossary of the Great Library. Thick and weathered, it looked like it hadn’t been moved in decades. Curious, River flipped through a few pages. Thousands of book titles and author names filled the lists, some dating back hundreds of years. It was too much. There was no way he could search it all manually. Maybe... He placed his hand lightly on the cover, closing his eyes and focusing his essence into it. Speaking low under his breath, he tried, “Shadow creature.” Nothing.

  He tried again. “Primordial” Still nothing.

  Frustrated, he whispered one more word: “Affinities.” The book shivered under his hand, then glowed faintly. It floated upward into the air, shimmering with magic, and a thin beam of essence shot out from its pages, drawing a path forward into the endless library aisles.                                    River grinned—but it wasn’t joy. It was something darker. A morbid curiosity, maybe. The quiet hunger for answers. So he fell into step behind the floating book. As he walked, he noticed the faint trail of runes carved into the stone floor beneath him. The glowing book was drawing its energy from them, a network of power lines running beneath the library itself. A reserve of magical energy, keeping the library alive. He quickened his pace, eager to see what answers he might finally uncover.                                    The book veered sharply to the left, and River followed close behind. As he turned the corner, his gaze hardened. A tall iron gate loomed ahead, sealing off a shadowed section of the library.                                    Above it, large red letters were carved into the arch:

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  "Beware. Off Limits for Students."

  River’s focus shifted. The glowing book had stopped near the ground by a worn, black volume resting on a lower shelf. He reached down and grabbed it, knowing he needed it—but his curiosity now burned somewhere else entirely.                                    He couldn’t help himself. Step by step, he approached the forbidden gate, laying his hands cautiously on the cold metal bars. Maybe he could glean something just by peeking inside. Before he could even attempt it, the gate creaked loudly—and swung open on its own. The same deep, monotone voice that had spoken at the entrance now echoed through the vast library:

  "Young Primordial, you are welcome within."

  River froze. The word echoed in his skull—Primordial.

  It felt heavy. Ancient. Like it didn’t belong in his story.

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? But it was just another question—one more mystery clawing at his thoughts. Something deeper stirred beneath the confusion—a pull. He had to know what was inside. Maybe, just maybe, the answers he’d been chasing for days were finally within reach.

  His heart pounded, each beat echoing in his ears like a warning. He shouldn’t go in—he knew that. But something deeper, older, clawed at his chest, demanding answers. Needing them. Shaking his head to clear it, he reminded himself he didn’t have much time. Students would soon be leaving dinner and returning to the dorms. If he was found here, he didn't know what kind of trouble he’d be in. The section behind the gate was small, only a single row of shelves tucked away between towering stacks, but something told him that the books here were different. Important. Dangerous. Running his hand lightly across the spines, he read the faded titles aloud one by one until his fingers brushed against a dark red book. Unlike the others, it looked almost new, as if it hadn’t gathered dust with the passing years.

  The title gleamed in silver script:

  "The Primordials and the Corrupting Power of the Soul"

  By Emery Loudiel.

  River’s eyes widened.

  It couldn’t be the same Emery... could it? Without hesitation, he slid the red book into his arms alongside the black one he'd collected earlier. His heart hammered against his ribs. Somehow, he knew, answers lay within these pages. Then a sound startled him, books clattering to the ground behind him. His whole body tensed, fear spiking through him like a jolt of electricity. Slowly, River turned, trying his best to look casual, innocent.                                    Amalia stood just inside the gate, wide-eyed. Her mouth hung open in shock—he half expected her to start drooling. But the humor died in his throat. This wasn’t the time for jokes. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and she knew it. She had the power now. One word from her, and it could all unravel. River’s chest tightened. His muscles coiled, ready to bolt if she so much as flinched.                                    River couldn't help but think: Things only ever seem to go my way for a few moments before something knocks me back down. Amalia finally closed her mouth and sputtered, “What are you doing here—and how did you even get in?” River smiled sheepishly, trying to disarm her. He couldn’t have the teachers hearing about this.

  “I was just... looking around. Professor Archibald gave me a library card. What about you?”                                    Amalia scowled. “Not that, you idiot. The door said 'Young Primordial.'” River winced and stared at his shoes. “You heard that, huh... It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”                                     “The hell you will!” she snapped, raising her voice. “You’re explaining it right now!”                                    River sighed heavily. He wasn't going to win this. And the longer they stood here, the more likely someone else would stumble across them. “Fine. Follow me. But not here. We can’t get caught.”

  He slipped out of the restricted section. At the desk he set the Glossary back, neat and square, then tucked the two other books beneath his robe. He walked for the doors with borrowed confidence. Amalia fell in beside him. The corridors were beginning to fill with students returning from dinner, but luckily, no one paid them any special attention. River rubbed his forehead.

  So much for secrecy. At this rate, he would be the dorm-room horror story— “Don’t end up like River.”                                    Back at the dorm room, he tossed the two books onto the desk and turned to Amalia.

  “Wait here. I’ll be back in two minutes. I have to get someone.”                                    He darted down the hallway to Albert’s door and knocked. No answer. Glancing down the corridor, he spotted the big guy lumbering toward him with a confused look. River sighed. “Come with me.”                                    Albert didn’t ask questions. He just followed.                                    When they returned to the dorm, Callum was already back, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised in amusement. Three pairs of eyes fixed on him—three chances. River swallowed hard, pulse ticking in his throat. This was it. No more hiding. It was time to explain—everything. River took a deep breath and reached for the thin layer of essence he always kept over his eyes.

  Slowly, he let it drop. At once, his irises turned a glowing white, flashing faint traces of elemental colors, earth, fire, water, air, one after another, swirling with raw essence.

  He now stood before them, his true self laid bare. For a moment the cold burned deeper. His instinct screamed to cover up, to hide again. But it was too late.                                   Gasps echoed around the room.

  But no one said a word.                                    He forced himself to speak.

  He started with Norvil, the city where he'd grown up scraping by, doing whatever it took to survive. He spoke about how his soul had first unlocked after a brutal beating from the guards, the pain so intense it had torn something open inside him. He told them about Lud, the man who had found him, given him clothes, explained what was happening to him, and started him on the journey to the academy. About the early days, learning how to hold back the chaotic swirl of magic inside him.

  River’s voice faltered when he spoke of the town again, the fire, the destruction, the creature that had torn through it like a nightmare made real. How Lud had died trying to protect him. How he had barely escaped. He shifted his stance, looking away.

  The memories still felt too fresh. Too raw.

  Finally, he explained about sneaking into the library, trying to find answers, how the restricted section had somehow recognized him, calling him “Young Primordial” and allowing him access. He finished speaking and looked around.

  Silence.

  Not even Callum had a joke.

  Not even Albert shifted uncomfortably.

  Amalia’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

  The quiet stretched out, heavy as stone.

  River stood there, exposed—no shields left, waiting to see what they’d do.

  He braced for rejection... but somewhere deep down, he hoped for acceptance.