Chapter 4: Observation and Training

“Structure is always perfect in its predictability. But sometimes the most interesting element of a system is an unexpected deviation that insists on its place in the order of things.”

The next few days passed in a flurry of unaccustomed activity for Catherine. She ran, she jumped, she walked through the academy parks, tying her hair back in a ponytail, indulging in everything long denied to her. In the absence of other tasks, my thoughts returned to my mission. Observing Reina and Nova remained a necessary objective, though it seemed to me that with each passing day, they tried more and more to avoid attracting the attention of those around them.

Our rare encounters and my observations left me with the sense that time working against me. Their bond seemed to strengthen with each day, while the level of my intervention remained zero. Nevertheless, I continued to wait patiently for the right moment, understanding that even my presence alone must have already initiated a chain reaction.

Perhaps, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention, I needed to shift my focus to something else. That “something else” could be Catherine. Her potential was obvious: she was determined, intelligent, and now, thanks to the prosthesis, possessed capabilities that were previously beyond her reach. I had not yet revealed my true plans to her, but I could already see how her training could help strengthen her trust in me.

Moreover, this maneuver would be an ideal way to distract Chaotic Light. After all, her energy was too palpable around Reina and Nova, and stepping aside was a strategically sound move.

I had promised to begin her training this week, and Catherine had been patiently waiting. I drew up a training plan that would not only build her physical strength but also develop the discipline and control I valued most. I had also acquired a pair of wooden swords from the local merchants, a predictable presence at the academy gates.

Realizing it was no longer efficient to delay her training, I led Catherine to a small grove on the academy grounds after classes one evening. It was the perfect place—quiet, secluded, with a soft carpet of fallen leaves.

“Today, you will learn the fundamentals of the sword,” I said, drawing a wooden training sword from the sheath on my back. “We’ll start with the basic stance.”

I demonstrated the correct position, explaining every detail. Her first swings felt too practiced, and I decided to weaken my own technique to appear less experienced. However, even my attempts to downplay my skills read as too precise; my movements remained too exact, too controlled. It was a certain irony: even when I tried to appear “weaker,” my actions continued to demonstrate perfection.

Catherine listened attentively, mirroring my movements. Her eyes held a mix of excitement and determination, but the longer she watched me, the more thoughtful her expression became.

“How do you wield a sword so confidently?” she asked, making another lunge into the air. “Your movements… they seem calculated down to the millimeter.”

I paused for a moment before answering. As I expected, my attempts to seem less experienced had failed.

“I have practiced a great deal,” I lied, adding a touch of nonchalance to my voice. “Though perhaps I was simply fortunate in my teacher.”

Her gaze sharpened. She sensed something amiss. My movements were too fluid, too precise to be the result of mere practice.

“And who was your teacher?” she asked, lunging again. “Was he also so… perfect?”

I allowed the corners of my lips to curl into a slight smile to ease the tension, knowing that my attempts to hide my true nature only heightened her suspicions.

“My father,” I replied, maintaining my composure. “He always said that what matters is not the amount of time spent training, but the quality of one’s movements.”

Catherine froze for a moment, her face a mixture of surprise and bewilderment.

“The quality of the movement?” she repeated. “It sounds as if you’re talking about mathematics, not fencing.”

I just shrugged, pretending not to understand her, though she was very close to the truth. Before her stood not a mere human, but the ancient alpha-soul Order-Darkness. I saw the entire world through the prism of structure and discipline, and it was foolish to evade her question.

“The most effective art is built on a foundation of precise science,” I replied, moving on to the next stage of our training. “Let’s try sparring. I’ll attack slowly so you can practice your defense.”

When our blades met, I felt her tension. Her face showed surprise—she clearly hadn’t expected such force from my light swing.

“How are you always so… composed?” she breathed out between strikes. “It’s unnatural.”

I could only reflect ironically that if she knew she was facing something truly unnatural to this world, she would be terrified. But revealing my essence now, especially to a mortal girl, would be foolish.

“It’s simply a matter of practice,” I lied again, though I knew perfectly well it had nothing to do with practice and everything to do with my true nature.

By the end of the training, I noticed Catherine periodically freezing to watch my movements. Her gaze grew more and more thoughtful, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. This was an undesirable development, and I couldn't help but comment on it.

“You focus too much on details,” I said, drawing attention to her pensive state. “Sometimes it’s important to trust your instincts rather than analyzing every move. My father, a general of the ‘Ice Guard,’ always told me: ‘Training is not entertainment; it’s a matter of survival. Every movement is a variable in an equation, and emotions are the interference that leads to mistakes and death. Perfection is not a talent. It is discipline brought to the point of absolute. You, too, can achieve this, if you cast aside everything extraneous.’”

Catherine froze as she listened to me.

“Your father must be a very experienced swordsman. I see a whole philosophy in his words that is still difficult for me to grasp,” she replied, her voice slightly strained.

“Yes, he is special.” I smiled at her intentionally. “I think that’s enough for today,” I said, lowering my sword and taking a step back. “You’re making progress, but you need to learn to feel the fight, not just think about it.”

Catherine nodded, but her gaze remained sharp. She clearly sensed something, but now her suspicions began to fade; she truly believed my skills were a testament to my father’s rigorous training.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” I added, gathering my things. “We’ll work on your reaction time.”

Catherine nodded in satisfaction and, taking her wooden blade, walked with me toward the academy. After my explanation, she likely began to doubt her own feelings and conclusions. She had heard a rational explanation, and now her mind was constructing the narrative I needed. Our training would only become more complex, and I knew how to explain any unexpected “oddities” to her.

***

The next day, I woke early, but Catherine had decided to rise even earlier. She waited patiently as I dressed in my academy uniform, and at the same time, she began asking questions I had never heard from her before.

“Arta, good morning! Listen, I was just sitting here thinking, why don’t I know anything about you?” She twirled a quill in her hand and looked at me with an interested gaze.

“I don’t know. You’ve never been interested before,” I answered, calmly removing my nightshirt and putting on the elements of the academic uniform one by one.

“I admit, I was a bit shy,” she said brightly. “But now I’ve reconsidered my approach and want to know more about my roommate.” She paused while I remained silent, fastening the buttons of my tunic, and then added, “Is that so bad?”

As I had anticipated, she was interested in establishing contact with me, and I was not against such a dynamic.

“Mostly, I attend the standard first-year classes: magical theory, etiquette, practical magic, fencing, physical education, Darkness magic, and a general course in elemental magic.” I paused. “As you can see, not that many subjects.”

“And why don’t you attend the Chaos and Light magic classes?” she asked with interest.

When I emerged from behind the screen, she had already moved to the windowsill and was now looking at me with almost innocent blue eyes as I packed my textbooks into my bag.

“I have no talent for those types of magic,” I replied coldly, not wanting to elaborate on the topic.

“Seriously?!” Catherine exclaimed. “I didn’t think such people even existed!”

“As you can see, you have living proof right here.” I gave her a cold smile to be polite.

Catherine’s fingers tapped involuntarily on the wooden window frame as I was about to leave our room. Before I opened the door, she asked the question that had been hanging in the air.

“Do you always leave for classes this early?” Her voice was neutral, but it held a hint of mild interest.

I stopped and looked at her. It was clear to me why she was asking, but compared to the past few days, her character seemed to have undergone a significant change, yet I was still against a dialogue with her.

“I have my own habits and daily routine,” I replied, looking her straight in the eye in a quiet and measured tone. “Speaking of recent changes, I am curious: what has been the general reaction to your prosthesis?” I asked, interested in what others thought of the artifact I had created.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, as if trying to read something between the lines.

“For the first few days, there were questions, but then they quickly stopped,” she answered thoughtfully. “I just said it was a gift, and they all accepted it. They probably just don’t understand the value of such things, so their questions were minimal.” Catherine paused. “By the way, I wanted to ask, how does this prosthesis clean itself? It seems like another miracle.”

Her questions about the prosthesis were logical, but I couldn't reveal the true reason—that a part of my essence was responsible for this function. So, with a smile, I replied with a simple and understandable phrase for her: “I suppose the skills of the artisans from Tarvarian artisans can accomplish.”

Catherine thought for a moment, her gaze slightly clouded, and then she looked at me with a newfound expression that seemed to want to get to the very core of my being.

“Have you ever thought about… being friends with someone?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject. “For example, going to classes together. We’re both first-years, and I think we have a lot in common.”

“Friends?” I asked, understanding that this was a request for closeness and that the investment I had made was yielding its first expected returns. “To be honest, I hadn’t considered it from that angle, but if you wish, you can join me for classes.” I paused briefly to seem natural and added, “However, I should inform you in advance that my schedule is a bit different from most students’, and I’m not used to teamwork.” The last phrase was just a convenient part of my mask, which so suited my true essence.

“Oh, so you don’t mind, then?” she asked, as if not believing my words. “I didn’t think you’d agree so easily. you seem a bit reserved, and I thought it would be a problem for you.”

“I said I’m not used to teamwork in your… more free style,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “In Tarvar, especially in my father’s circle, it’s more about following one follows instructions precisely; it isn’t a dialogue. But I understand the value of coordinated actions. If you think it will be beneficial for both of us, I’m willing to try.” I smiled at her slightly to appear sincere.

Catherine smiled back. She was ready to build bridges herself, but her forwardness needed to be reined in a bit.

“Listen, as an option, so you understand what to expect…” I paused intentionally, “in my company, I suggest you try spending a regular day with me tomorrow. I don’t think it makes sense to adjust the schedule at this point, but it will be a useful experience for making a decision later.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” Catherine replied thoughtfully. “Just tell me, what classes do you have planned for tomorrow?”

I looked her in the eye again and replied in a measured voice, “Practical magic in the morning, etiquette lessons before lunch. Nothing complicated.” I smiled at her in a way that made the words seem as ironic as possible.

Her face lit up with a smile, and she nodded as if my words were significant to her.

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll be ready. I’ll go and adjust my schedule right now.”

We fell silent, and then, after saying goodbye to Catherine, I left our room. Today, as usual, was not expected to bring anything significant in terms of observation or improving my investment.

When the new day came, we went to classes together as agreed, although we still had breakfast separately. However, despite this, there was news that deviated from my preliminary calculations: instead of adjusting her schedule for one or two days, Catherine had adjusted all her classes so that, as she clarified, we would become not just roommates, but true friends. This was still acceptable to me, but further closeness, given her level of observation, could lead to complications in my mission, which I wanted to avoid.

It was obvious to me that Catherine wanted to learn something new about me; she responded to my reserved company with too much enthusiasm. This morning, she looked very composed and inspired, as if she were embarking not on her studies, but on an exciting journey.

***

Without rushing, we joined the crowd of students hurrying to their classes and headed to the east academic building for our practical magic lesson.

“Are you always so self-possessed?” she asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us. “Even when everyone around you is nervous or bustling, you seem… calm.”

Her question was too direct for a quick chat, but I tried to answer it as concisely as possible: “Confidence follows control,” I replied without looking at her. “I was taught to control my actions from a young age, and when you control yourself, you don’t have to worry about what’s happening around you.”

She pondered my words, and I saw her gaze become even sharper. Catherine was undeniably smart, perhaps too smart, but her curiosity, as long as it could be controlled, played into my hands, and I could allow her to ask any questions.

As we were entering the classroom, I cast a sidelong glance at Reina and Nova passing by in the corridor, engrossed in some discussion. Nova noticed my gaze again, and the smile immediately vanished from her face, replaced by a well-concealed anger disguised as indifference.

I was so absorbed in observing them that I underestimated Catherine’s attentiveness, and she immediately asked me another question: “Did something happen?” she asked with concern, seeing that I had stopped.

“Nothing special,” I replied, looking away from Reina and Nova. “I’m just surprised that there’s a place for ‘forbidden love’ at the academy and no one does anything about it.”

Catherine frowned. “You mean…”

“I mean that certain forms of behavior between students are unacceptable for obvious reasons. It violates the discipline and order that should prevail in an educational institution of the level of the Academy of Duality.”

Hearing my answer, she nodded thoughtfully, accepting my position. For her, as someone who valued the academy’s rules, my point of view was logical and understandable.

The practical magic classroom was spacious, with high ceilings and a stone floor covered in protective runes. The students were already gathering around Magister Elivie, who was holding an ancient tome.

“Good morning!” she began her speech, her gaze sweeping over the students present. “Today, we will try to master the basic magic of Order—materialization,” she said, looking around. “Does anyone know why Order magic is considered the most difficult and why we are studying it in class today?”

I noticed most students lowered their eyes. It seemed no one knew the reason why Order magic had almost completely disappeared from this world. Only a few students, including Catherine, raised their hands.

“Olivia Briggs,” said Magister Elivie, looking at a black-haired student with blue eyes. “Tell the others why this is so.”

“Order magic completely left this world thousands of years ago. Only a few wield this rare magic now. The reasons why some still have a talent for Order magic cannot be explained by any scholar to this day,” Olivia recited in a well-memorized and diligent voice.

“Correct,” Magister Elivie nodded after Olivia’s answer. “It has been almost nine hundred years since the incident known as the ‘Night of Desecrated Blades,’ but the Veytra of Order in Illumora has not recovered from that catastrophe. On that night, the followers of Chaos destroyed almost everyone who possessed abilities in Order magic and desecrated the very essence of Order magic in our world,” the magister stated, giving a brief history lesson for those who didn't know where they were. “But that doesn't mean we can’t try, because upon entering the academy, only one student passed the Order magic exam.” The magister’s gaze fell on me for a moment, but then she returned to the students. “Today, we will try to cast the most elementary Order spell, which, a thousand years ago, even those with almost no Order magic could use. We will create a structured energy cube. And don’t worry if you don’t succeed; the practical for Order magic will not be on the exam! Now, take your places, and we will proceed to the practical part of the lesson.”

Catherine, taking her place in the back rows next to me, couldn't resist asking, “Do you think I’ll be able to handle Order magic? I know you’ll do it easily, but what if I can too?!” she asked, probably hoping for encouragement.

Without taking my eyes off the instructor, I replied, “It’s an elementary spell. I suppose you might be able to do it.” I understood that thanks to the integration with the prosthesis, Catherine would undoubtedly discover her abilities for Order magic.

Catherine smiled, obviously pleased with my comment, but she probably wasn't going to end the conversation. She looked at the corner of the classroom where the girl we had saved from Isolde was sitting.

“I didn’t know Lilian Grace was in your classes.”

“Lilian Grace?” I repeated, realizing I hadn’t bothered to learn the girl’s name. I glanced at her and lingered for a moment on her dark chestnut hair, tied in a neat bun. It seemed Lilian somehow caught my gaze with the back of her head and, turning to me, smiled sweetly, though her eyes were full of anxiety about the upcoming practical lesson.

“Yes, that’s the girl we recently saved from the upperclassmen,” she whispered. “I get along well with her, but sometimes she acts a little strangely.”

“You mean, a little unstable?” I clarified. “Last time, she just ran away without even showing basic gratitude.”

“Yes, I mean that…” Catherine replied with regret in her voice. “I talked to her afterward. She apologized profusely and begged for forgiveness.”

“It’s good that she at least apologized to you,” I commented ironically. “After all, I wasn’t even there.”

“Oh, come on, Arta!” Catherine exclaimed with slight indignation. “Lilian was scared, and she wasn’t prepared for that kind of support.”

“I am not offended. I simply value rational behaviour over emotional impulses.”

Catherine sighed. “I’ll talk to her,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

“Alright, but I suggest we don’t get distracted from the lesson and get to the practical, unless, of course, you want to fall behind,” I said, thereby closing the topic of Lilian.

Meanwhile, the magic instructor, Magister Elivie, had finished demonstrating the basic skills of materialization. An ideal energy cube appeared in her hands, and a moment later, it dissipated as if it had never been, which indicated that she herself could barely handle the simplest Order magic spell.

“Now, try to repeat what I did,” said Professor Elivie, and then her gaze lingered on me. “Artalis Nox, perhaps you could demonstrate to the other students how to properly control Order magic?”

My gaze swept across the classroom, lingering on the faces of the students who were now looking at me with curiosity and the realization that I was the one who had passed the Order magic exams upon admission. I didn't need the extra attention and intended to show them only what was required of me for this lesson.

“Of course, Magister Elivie,” I said in a calm voice, rising from my seat.

With a slow and confident stride, I walked to Elivie and stood beside her.

“May I begin?” I asked in a low voice, so as not to seem like an impertinent upstart.

Magister Elivie nodded, and then I extended my right hand forward. My index finger began to trace the structure of an energy cube in the air to make the spell look impressive to the simple-minded, although such movements were meaningless. The air around me grew denser, materializing the golden facets of the energy cube, and the students’ eyes were fixed on my movements until a perfect energy cube appeared before me in every sense.

“Excellent work, Artalis Nox!” said Magister Elivie, her voice full of approval. “Your task is to repeat everything that I and Artalis have demonstrated. Try, and don’t be discouraged if you don’t succeed.”

Bowing respectfully to the magister, I returned to my seat, noticing how Catherine was carefully watching my every step. Her eyes shone with excitement, and I knew she wanted to try too.

“You really know how to surprise,” she whispered when I sat down next to her. “How did you do that so easily?”

“Practice,” I replied calmly. “As I said before, I practice Order magic in my free time, but I have my weaknesses too,” I said, to change the subject.

“I understand. Maybe everyone has their weaknesses…” she replied thoughtfully, and then added, looking me straight in the eye, “But you know what, I’ve never had a predisposition for Order magic. It seems like some kind of miracle to me…” Her voice trembled slightly, as if deep down she had always striven for it but could never achieve it.

“You know, Catherine, I believe you have a predisposition for Order magic; you just haven’t awakened it yet. When it’s your turn, remember that Order is a perfect structure, the golden chains that hold the universe from inevitable doom. Just let those chains pass through you,” I said calmly, understanding that she needed a key to understanding her new abilities.

“Alright, I’ll try, Arta. You always make everything sound so simple.” Catherine smiled, her expression full of gratitude.

When it was Catherine’s turn to go before the class, she concentrated so hard that the air around her seemed to freeze. Her fingers began to move, forming patterns. I felt her prosthesis helping to awaken abilities in her that she had never had before.

An energy cube appeared before her—surprisingly stable for a novice. Magister Elivie, seeing the result, raised an eyebrow. She clearly had not expected anyone else to wield Order magic better than she did.

“Impressive, Catherine,” she said. “It seems you are our rising star. Don’t bury your talent; I’m sure you have great potential.”

Catherine, pleased but tense, returned to her seat and looked at me mysteriously, but said nothing.

Next after Catherine, Olivia Briggs came before the class. Despite all her efforts, all attempts to materialize an energy cube ended only in golden sparks. Perhaps if the Veytra of Order had been intact, she would have had abilities, but now she had to be content with failure and return to her seat in the front rows, disappointed.

The other students came before the class one by one and demonstrated their meager attempts to master Order magic. Various expressions froze on their faces, as if they were not casting spells but trying on their emotional chaos to a structure that required complete control. Olivia Briggs, in comparison, was a master of Order magic, which couldn't help but bring an ironic smile to my face.

The last of the students to demonstrate her abilities was Lilian Grace. Unlike the others, she undoubtedly had talents for Order magic, but instead of a cube, a triangle suddenly appeared, then a rhombus, and when she got nervous, the structure completely disintegrated and chaotic red lightning appeared. It was obvious that she was not just a mage of Order; she was a dangerous representative of the influence of Chaos-Order forces. Perhaps if I had delayed during the conflict with Isolde, the situation could have turned into a tragedy. This issue required immediate analysis and data collection. Lilian was a node of unpredictability, and the consequences of this were dangerous for everyone.

Although Lilian didn’t give up, her hands trembled more and more with each attempt. I saw her inner core fighting against external limitations and internal chaos, but in the end, she failed to create the cube.

“Good result, Lilian. Even though you didn’t create a cube, you clearly have a talent for Order magic,” Magister Elivie said encouragingly.

However, Lilian was not satisfied with such support and, almost in tears, returned to her seat.

Soon, the lesson ended. Magister Elivie, seeing Lilian’s instability, called her for a private conversation, and all the other students, including myself, left the classroom.

Moving unhurriedly through the academy buildings, Catherine followed me to our etiquette class. Her expression was thoughtful, and it was clear to me that she was thinking about the incident with Lilian.

***

“Arta, did you notice the strange things about Lilian’s magic?” Catherine began, trying to get me to talk at least a little. “What was that all about?”

“Of course, I noticed,” I replied dryly. “It’s a manifestation of instability that could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean, Arta?” she asked, her voice slightly agitated.

“Catherine, have you never studied Higher Magic?” I asked her, watching her expression change. “I mean, not as magic, but as the theory of Higher Magic.”

“Of course, I’ve read a little about it…” she lied, probably trying to justify her inattentiveness.

“Catherine, please be honest with me. For this… friendship… to work, I need to be able to rely on what you say. If I cannot, then we have no foundation to build upon.”

A look of fear crossed Catherine’s face. “But… I really have read about it! Just a little!” she began to object, and judging by her reaction, this was true.

“Alright. In that case, do you know the basic palette of Higher Magic?” I asked, expecting an honest answer from her.

“Uh… No, I don’t. I don’t think I’ve read about that,” she replied, looking down.

“I see.” I turned down the corners of my mouth, expressing a slight disappointment that she could appreciate. “In that case, remember this—I won’t repeat it: Order magic is golden, Darkness magic is black and violet, Light magic is white and silver, and Chaos magic is red.”

Catherine listened carefully to my explanation, but obviously, she didn’t draw all the conclusions.

“So, those red lightning bolts are evidence of Chaos magic? And the golden energy is Order magic?” she asked, more to herself than to me. “But what’s the danger in such a combination?”

I smiled ironically. “The thing is, mixing Order and Chaos magic can lead to incredible and dangerous results. You either have to be a madman to use such a dangerous cocktail, or a complete fool who doesn't understand anything,” I said firmly, not wanting to continue this conversation.

“So you’re calling Lilian stupid now?” Catherine asked indignantly.

“No. Just if you talk to her, tell her to give up either Chaos magic or Order magic. Their combination will sooner or later lead to tragedy.”

“Alright, I’ll tell her,” Catherine replied quietly.

We continued to walk through the corridors, but Catherine clearly still wanted to talk to me more.

“Arta, why are you always silent?” She paused for a moment and added, “I mean, you never start a conversation first. Do you really have nothing to say?” she asked, and her voice held demanding notes, striving for knowledge and understanding.

“I don’t know how you were raised, but I was raised with love and strictness, and as a noble girl, I was taught not to ask unnecessary questions.” I glanced at Catherine to gauge her reaction, and it seemed I had put her in a very uncomfortable position.

“It’s not that I was raised any differently…” Catherine began to justify herself. “It’s just that this is a girls’ academy. Can’t we live without these masks even here?” Her question was simple and understandable, but completely naive and devoid of strategic thinking.

“Sometimes obligations permeate our lives so much that it becomes impossible to avoid them.” I closed my eyes to appear thoughtful. “I’m always ready to have a conversation with you, but don’t expect empty talk from me.” I opened my eyes and smiled intentionally, then added, “If the question is worthwhile, I’ll be sure to initiate it myself.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

***

Soon, we reached the etiquette classroom and entered a spacious room with tall mirrors, where every detail had been thought out. For me, etiquette class was one of those lessons that seemed like a meaningless ritual, but Order-Light would undoubtedly have considered such lessons useful and rational. However, I don’t share his position, and I can only sincerely regret having to spend precious time on ritual training.

The instructor, Lady Vivienne, stood in the center of the room. Her posture was impeccable, and her gaze was cold and perceptive. She immediately noticed Catherine next to me and raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Artalis Nox, good to see you again,” she said in her soft but authoritative voice. “I’m surprised you’ve made a friend. Would you mind telling me who your companion is and why she hasn’t attended my classes before?”

“Catherine Holu,” I replied, maintaining a neutral but polite tone. “The thing is, until recently, Catherine had to study on a special schedule for disabled students. As you can see, she has a magical prosthesis, and now, like all the other girls, she can attend such an important and mandatory lesson for noblewomen as etiquette.”

Lady Vivienne nodded, but her gaze remained sharp. She clearly felt that something in my story was not right, but her obvious ignorance of the complexities of magical prostheses in this world quickly suppressed her innate intuition.

“In that case, take your seats.” She gestured elegantly to two hard chairs in the front row.

Lady Vivienne waited for the bell, which signaled the start of a new lesson, and addressed the class.

“Today, we will be discussing the rules of conduct at official receptions,” she began, slowly walking in front of the students. “How to carry yourselves so as not to raise unnecessary questions or suspicions.”

It was quite ironic that she decided to teach such a lesson just when my own roommate had started asking me so many unnecessary questions.

Lady Vivienne continued to walk between the rows of students and periodically glanced at Catherine, who had placed her hands on her knees, her fingers trembling slightly from the attention focused on her.

“You young ladies often underestimate the importance of details,” the instructor continued. “One misstep, one extra word, can ruin a reputation. And remember: true strength lies not in showing it to everyone, but in hiding it behind a mask of politeness.”

How ironic that behind a mask of politeness, one could hide almost any essence in this world. Even if a not a human but an ancient entity were sitting before you, you would hardly recognize the fact. However, unlike the other students, my fingers never tremble unless I need them to, and my voice will not waver unless I want it to. I could call it an absolute mask that will never come off my face, and Lady Vivienne, it seemed, appreciated this most of all, believing that I was perfectly following her educational program.

The long hours of the lecture passed in a flash. Lady Vivienne made comments to all the students whose backs suddenly became not straight enough or whose gazes were not friendly enough. Catherine also fell under her firm hand more than once, and by the end of the lesson, she was sitting with an almost white face. Only when the bell rang again, signaling the end of the lesson, did she finally relax.

***

After the etiquette lesson, we headed to the dining hall. Catherine, as usual, stayed close, but I could feel a growing desire in her to talk. Her fingers nervously touched the prosthesis hidden under her uniform and black stockings, which was probably her newly acquired reaction.

When we reached the west wing of the academy, where the dining hall was located, we went to the serving area, where the staff usually brought dishes from the kitchen. Behind simple stained-glass windows were cold dishes, and in the pots over the fire was hot food.

We got in line for food. I took a herbal infusion, boiled vegetables, and a piece of chicken—enough to support my body’s functions.

Unlike me, Catherine took a piece of beef, fresh vegetables, two thinly sliced pieces of bread, butter, and sweet tea.

We took our trays and, following the light marble floor, maneuvered between the columns supporting the vaulted ceilings to choose a comfortable spot by a window with a view of the academy park.

When we sat down at the light wood table, covered with a small white tablecloth, Catherine immediately began to speak. She probably couldn't wait any longer, and her curiosity got the better of her again.

“Arta, I’m still thinking about what happened in the practical magic class,” she began, carefully spreading butter on a piece of bread. “You said I had a predisposition for Order magic… But why were you so sure? I’ve gone through rituals to determine my magical powers many times, and there was never any Order magic.” Catherine looked me straight in the eye. “Besides, I can wield Chaos magic. Explain why I don’t have the same problems as Lilian.”

I put down my fork and looked at her. Her blue eyes were full of sincere interest, but behind that interest, I saw something more—an attempt to solve the mystery of my knowledge of this world’s magic.

“Any ritual can be wrong. Unfortunately, magic is not always perfect in its manifestations,” I began to explain to her in a calm voice. “Sometimes, to comprehend magic, you just need to have a certain way of thinking.”

“You always talk as if everything is so simple!” Catherine objected, her voice holding clear notes of dissatisfaction with my answer. “I went through rituals as a child and before entering the academy, and the result was nothing. Don’t you think it’s the prosthesis itself that’s affecting me this way?” she asked, her voice filled with sincere disbelief.

“We can’t rule that out. The prosthesis was designed by specialists from Tarvar. I wouldn’t be surprised if Order magic was used in its creation,” I replied, tilting my head slightly to the side.

“And Darkness, apparently, yes, Arta? Or why did you tell me about the colors of Higher Magic?” she asked with a slight smile.

“Yes, and obviously Darkness. As you can imagine, it’s a rare and complex work,” I replied, dispelling her suspicions.

Catherine nodded in understanding. “And what about Lilian? Why do I wield Chaos and Order magic normally, while she has such unstable consequences?” she switched the subject, probably hoping I would give myself away somewhere.

“I haven’t seen you use Chaos magic, but obviously, you don’t try to mix your emotions with structure,” although I knew that this was not the case at all. Her prosthesis suppressed all unstable magic flows; the particle of Order in it was significantly stronger than her innate abilities for Chaos magic.

Suddenly, Lilian Grace approached our table. “Catherine, may I join you?” she asked in a timid voice, holding a tray of food.

“Yes, of course,” Catherine replied in a slightly more cheerful voice.

Lilian, seeing the invitation from her and completely ignoring my indifference, placed her tray on our table and pulled up a chair from a neighboring table.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “Artalis, I wanted to apologize for just running away last time.” She looked me in the eye, and in her large brown eyes, I saw notes of sincere regret.

“It’s nothing, but next time, try not to do anything thoughtless.” I emphasized the word “thoughtless” so she would understand that I was referring not only to her behavior but also to the magic she used.

“By the way, Lilian, we were just talking about your magic. Arta asked me to tell you,” she said, almost playfully glancing at me, “that you shouldn’t use Chaos and Order magic at the same time.”

“What…?” Lilian asked in a trembling voice and stared at her plate, on which lay chicken, rice porridge, two cucumbers, and a tomato.

“I’m quoting her word for word. As they say, you have a chance to get the answer from the source,” Catherine said with a smile to Lilian.

I was surprised at how easily she had changed the subject, almost accusing me of giving bad advice. I couldn't explain to them about the prosthesis or Chaos-Order; it would have immediately given me away to Chaotic Light, and I had to tell them a realistic theory that wouldn't touch on those aspects.

Looking at Lilian, I began to answer her question: “The thing is, magic takes different forms. For example, in the early works of Magister Olvin, there is a theory of the conflict of Higher Magic,” I said confidently. “He claims that using Chaos and Order magic, as well as Light and Darkness magic, without the ability to extinguish the conflict of the two opposites leads to destruction.”

“Destruction…?” Lilian repeated uncertainly. “Does that mean I’m going to die?”

“Yes, if you continue to use the unstable conflicts of these two types of magic.”

“Arta, why would she die and not me?” Catherine asked, defending Lilian.

“Everyone has their own peculiarities,” I replied calmly. “You probably know how to extinguish the conflict of Higher Magic,” I lied, as it was necessary.

Catherine frowned, clearly not accepting this explanation. “I think there’s more to it than just ‘extinguishing the conflict’…” she muttered, clearly hinting at her prosthesis.

“So what should I do?” Lilian asked, trying to be more confident.

“As I said, give up either Chaos magic or Order magic,” I answered her sternly, indicating that this was not a place for objections.

“But…!” she began again. “My parents sent me to the academy only because I can wield Order magic, but I have difficulties with Order magic, and no one teaches it at the academy.”

“Lilian’s parents are not rich. They sent her here in the hope that she could achieve success in magic and become a court mage or at least a professor at the academy,” Catherine added.

Lilian glanced at Catherine with slight resentment, letting her know that she shouldn't have revealed such information to me.

I looked at Lilian again. “As I said, you have to give up one of them—that’s the easiest way. Order magic requires independent study, as there are no instructors with the necessary experience in this discipline,” I said with a sigh.

“Magister Elivie told me the same thing about Order magic after the lesson…” Lilian said, looking down.

“That only shows that the magister is a wise woman,” I replied and started to eat.

We spent the rest of the lunch in almost complete silence. Lilian finished first and, bowing politely, left, taking her metal tray to the far corner with the rack for dirty dishes.

Following Lilian’s path, I saw Reina and Nova again. They entered the dining hall, almost holding hands. It seemed they didn't notice me this time and, taking their food, sat in a far corner of the dining hall, almost behind a column, which, however, did not prevent me from observing them.

Catherine again noticed my increased attention to Reina and Nova, and a question appeared on her face, which she wanted to voice, but I beat her to it.

“If you doubted what I was saying last time, you can look at them now,” I said quietly, nodding in their direction. “This is a clear violation of the academy’s rules, and for some reason, everyone pretends not to notice.”

Catherine followed my gaze, and her face took on a thoughtful expression.

“Yes… They really are…” she fell silent, choosing her words. “But love doesn’t choose, right? Maybe sometimes rules need to be broken for true feelings?”

Her words sounded like a challenge. However, I understood that human logic was too primitive to see problems of a cosmic scale.

“Rules don’t exist for no reason,” I replied coldly. “They maintain discipline and order, and without them, everything would collapse into chaos.”

Catherine looked at me intently, as if trying to understand the hidden meaning of my words.

“Interesting…” she drawled. “You talk about it as if…” she didn’t finish the sentence, but her gaze became even more intense.

“As if what, Catherine?” I asked. “Do you really think I don’t have the right to my own views and beliefs?” I replied, looking her straight in the eye. I would probably have more trouble with her than I had originally expected.

Perhaps I should completely reconsider my approach to interacting with her. It was necessary to redirect her quick mind in the right direction so that she would understand me at a glance and not interpret everything, violating the original meaning of my words.

After my response, Catherine looked thoughtfully into her cup of tea. Her fingers unconsciously touched the cup, after which, trying to concentrate, she addressed me.

“You speak so confidently about rules and order…” she said after a pause, looking up at me. “I’m interested in what that really means to you. Not just words, but your personal understanding.”

I took a sip from my cup of infusion, pretending to think for a moment before answering her question.

“Rules are the foundation, Catherine,” I said, watching the play of light on the surface of the cup. “They are the framework that allows everything to exist. Like…” I paused for greater effect before continuing, “like notes in music. Without them, there would only be chaotic noise.”

She nodded, but her eyes continued to study my face, as if trying to find something behind the mask of calmness. Analyzing that my gaze was directed somewhere to the side, she followed it and saw Reina and Nova again, who were cooing peacefully about something.

“I see you watching them,” Catherine turned to me, and a new interest appeared in her eyes. “You didn’t just talk about rules today for no reason, did you? Is it somehow related to them?”

“I observe many things, Catherine, especially such blatant provocations at the academy.” I sighed ironically and looked at my unfinished lunch.

“Alright,” Catherine replied after a slight pause, “but promise me you’ll tell me why you’re so interested in those upperclassmen.”

I smiled at her ironically, knowing that sooner or later this conversation would have to happen anyway, because that was the purpose of my investments, but I couldn’t tell her my true goals in any case.

“It’s a deal, Catherine. We’ll come back to this conversation later,” I replied calmly and smiled slightly to appear more natural.

Catherine nodded, but her expression told me that she had already drawn her own conclusions. Now she, too, periodically turned her head to observe Reina and Nova, as if trying to assemble a mosaic of facts in her mind.

Catherine was too attentive an observer, but it was important to me that she not go too far in her observations. Any extra activity towards Reina and Nova could attract the attention of Chaotic Light, and if things went too far, I would have to adjust her memory.

Nevertheless, I couldn't help but note her uniqueness. Her observation skills, her ability to analyze details—this was a rare combination of qualities in this world of limited beings. Yes, she noticed things that others missed, but it was this trait that made her valuable and appealing to me. Undoubtedly, that was why I had chosen her as the target of my own investments.

***

After finishing lunch, Catherine said goodbye to me, citing that she wouldn't be able to practice with the sword this evening due to attending an extracurricular debate club.

I didn't object; after all, she only went to that club, and she did it only once a week. Not wasting my time, I decided to take a walk around the academy to gather additional data that might be useful in my mission.

Walking through the park, I saw Nova’s roommate reading alone on a bench. Her eyes darted with interest across the pages of the work. For me, the manifestation of such irrationality was not interesting for analysis, and I went on, walking into the academic labyrinth of shrubs, which had already begun to turn yellow in places.

The labyrinth was tall, about two and a half meters high. In some places, spiders had already spun their webs on the bushes and were greedily waiting for prey. As for me, I just walked through the labyrinth, looking at the traces of life. It seemed that there were no other students in the labyrinth at all, or they were whispering somewhere in secluded dead ends on topics that interested them.

After walking a little further, I came out of the labyrinth and on the other side, I saw Olivia Briggs sitting on a bench and looking at the blue autumn sky.

“Hey, Arta!” she suddenly cried out. “Won’t you keep me company?”

I approached her and stood in front of her.

“Don’t just stand there, sit down next to me,” she said, patting the bench in a friendly manner, indicating a place next to her.

I sat down and looked her in the eye. “Do you have a specific question?” I asked, trying to look friendly.

“Do you need special conditions to talk to a fellow student?” she giggled. “Well, actually, yes. I have a question for you.”

“And what question is on your mind?” I asked politely, continuing to look her in the eye.

“Well… Listen, to be honest, I’m a little surprised by your skills in Order magic,” she said in a confident and polite tone. “You see, I strive to be an excellent student in all disciplines, but I’m not doing very well with Order magic.”

“And are you doing well with Light and Darkness magic?” I asked to understand what she was getting at.

“Yes, I am. I’ve been training in these disciplines since childhood, and I have excellent results.” She smiled. “Sorry, I don’t want to brag. I know you have problems with Chaos and Light magic.”

“You are surprisingly talented for your age,” I replied with a smile.

“It’s all in the genes. My father is a master of magic and a teacher at the ‘Blessing of Arcana,’” she said proudly.

“Your father must be an outstanding man. Does he wield all four types of Higher Magic?” I asked with interest.

She nodded. “My father is a master of magic. He wields all types of magic at an excellent level.”

I decided to ask the question that interested me most. She was clearly holding something back, and I could see it right through her.

“And what about Blood magic and Soul magic?”

“No, no, what are you talking about! Those types of magic are forbidden.” She was clearly frightened by my question.

“Hmm, you know, I’m no amateur in magic. So how do you and he manage to stabilize Higher Magic? To combine Darkness and Light magic, you need to use Blood magic, and to combine Order and Chaos magic, you need to use Soul magic,” I said in an ironic tone to highlight her shortsightedness.

“No! Arta! We don’t do that!” she began to deny, like a schoolgirl sentenced to be shot. “We use them separately.”

I realized that continuing to pressure her was pointless, and I needed to back off a bit to appear friendly. However, conclusions were drawn: Olivia probably practiced Blood magic and used it to stabilize her magic.

“I believe you, Olivia. I was just surprised that you are such powerful mages,” I replied with an intentional smile.

She closed her eyes for a second and, calming down a bit, replied, “Alright, it’s nothing. I should have expected you to be so inquisitive. After all, you’re one of the best first-year students.”

“You forgive me too, if I was too pushy and didn’t trust you,” I replied with another smile.

“Listen… Maybe you can tell me the secret of how you manage to use Order magic so well?” she asked, as if trying to find out my secret.

“I think it’s innate, not something I chose,” I replied politely.

“Ah, I see,” she replied with a slight smirk. “But maybe you can at least give me a few lessons?” she asked with great hope.

“I’m sorry, Olivia, but I don’t have the opportunity for that right now, but if I have free time, I’ll be sure to let you know,” I replied calmly, without any emotional coloring in my voice.

“I understand. I’ll wait then,” she replied, looking down. “Then I won’t keep you. Thanks for the company.”

“And thank you too. Stop by the library sometime. I’ll recommend a couple of books on Order magic,” I said, feigning interest in our further communication.

Olivia cheered up. “I’ll definitely stop by. See you later, Arta!”

I got up and, walking around the labyrinth from the outside, headed towards the dormitories. The rest of the day held nothing interesting and passed in my usual silence.

***

The morning of the next day began with Catherine and I having breakfast together. Even though we hadn't seen each other yesterday, today, when I got oatmeal with berries and black tea for myself, and she got chocolate pudding and chamomile tea, she addressed me again.

“Listen, Arta, don’t you want to join the strategic games and debate club?” she asked with a slight hope in her voice.

“No,” I replied softly, choosing an unoccupied table.

Catherine asked her next question only after we sat down at the table.

“I just thought that social games would help you overcome your inner inhibitions,” she said quietly, looking me in the eye.

“Catherine, I have no inner inhibitions. As I said, I was just raised that way,” I replied and started my breakfast.

“I understand, you said so,” she said. “But you know, it can be interesting there. I’ve already imagined how much fun we would have together.”

Her desire to push me into social games was understandable, but I couldn't agree to such a step, because neither Reina nor Nova attended that club.

“Catherine, perhaps we can talk about such initiatives next academic year. Right now, I’m too busy with my current studies. I wouldn’t want to miss anything,” I lied, considering this lie to be the most convincing.

“You’re so busy, Arta…” Catherine sighed, and we began our silent breakfast.

After finishing breakfast, we headed to the central academy building, where on the very first floor was a large and spacious fencing hall with high ceilings and polished wooden floors. The walls were decorated with portraits of the twin queens and trophies from past tournaments, and the air was filled with a sense of history that meant absolutely nothing to me.

Even though there were second-year students present at the lesson, preparing for upcoming spars, neither Reina nor Nova were anywhere to be seen. Perhaps their carefree forbidden love once again interfered with common sense, and they decided to skip the class.

“Is this your first class, Miss Holu?” asked the instructor, Lady Fiora, looking with interest at my roommate, who was standing uncertainly next to me at the rack with épées.

Catherine froze for a moment, her eyes shining with a special brilliance as she saw Lady Fiora’s assistant take out an épée for her.

“Yes,” she said with reverence and caution, accepting the training épée from the assistant’s hands. “This is… incredible. I think I’ve dreamed of this my whole life,” she whispered in a low voice so that only I could hear.

Her movements, though uncertain, were full of respect for this weapon, and her gaze frequently turned to the portraits on the walls, where the twin queens were depicted in elegant fencing stances.

I took my épée mechanically and without any interest. For me, it was just another meaningless ritual and an irrational waste of time.

Then Lady Fiora gave the command to approach the training dummies, and the students obediently stood in front of them and froze in anticipation of the start of the lesson.

“Let’s start with the basic stance,” Lady Fiora said loudly, and her voice echoed off the walls of the hall. “Feet shoulder-width apart, right foot forward, body slightly turned. Your movements should be precise and confident; only then will you be able to harm a potential opponent.”

Catherine was literally glowing with delight, repeating every movement with almost religious reverence. Her eyes frequently turned to the historical trophies on the walls, as if she were imagining herself a part of that romantic era that she had never seen with her own eyes.

We practiced the basic stances of wielding an épée, and then the second-year students began sparring, which the first-year students were supposed to watch carefully. Today, there were not enough pairs for all the second-year students, and Lady Fiora, knowing my skill level, invited me to fight one of the second-year bullies I knew. My movements were fast and tactical, and our blades met with the characteristic clang of metal. The duel didn't last long, and Maelys suffered a quick defeat.

“You know, Arta,” Catherine whispered when we finished sparring with Maelys, “you wield an épée as masterfully as the heroines of those legends. It’s… amazing. Most people are simply incapable of achieving such perfection.”

I just shrugged. For me, such praise meant absolutely nothing, and I was only wary that she was romanticizing my image so much.

As soon as all the second-year students’ spars were over, the first-year students’ spars began, and one of the first pairs to participate was Catherine.

“Your turn, Miss Holu,” Lady Fiora called her politely to one of the circles.

Catherine walked to the center of the hall with an expression on her face as if she were going to a sacred ceremony. Her opponent was one of the best first-year students, whom I already partially knew—Olivia Briggs.

The duel didn't last long, but even in defeat, Catherine maintained a certain solemn appearance.

“Don’t be upset,” I said to her after she finished the duel. “You have potential, but it will require independent development.”

Catherine nodded and waited for me to fight again, this time against a first-year. The fight was even faster than the one with Maelys, but for Catherine, it seemed to mean nothing.

When the classes were over, she approached me and, with a slight smile, said, “You really do move like the twin queens from the legends.” She said, looking me straight in the eye. “It’s so graceful, so… romantic. Even in this practice match, I can see that you are an excellent fencer.”

“Romance is wonderful,” I replied, intentionally changing the tone of the conversation. “But you know what could be even more romantic? Mastering the art of fencing with swords,” I said, to switch her attention.

Catherine hesitated and then looked at me in surprise.

“Swords require more strength and control,” I continued, seeing her attention. “Their history is no less rich than the history of épées. And the legends of great swordsmen can be compared to any stories about the twin queens. Moreover, the sword is a universal weapon that can be used not only for beautiful ceremonial receptions but also for real defense. And most importantly, besides me, no one here will teach you this art.”

“Arta, I understand that perfectly, but why don’t you feel this romance too?!” Catherine asked with slight indignation.

“Perhaps because I came from the Tarvarian Empire, I have no romantic associations with the twin queens,” I replied coldly but maintaining a friendly tone.

Catherine seemed disappointed by my answer, but something in her eyes spoke of an understanding of practicality over romance, and with this new understanding, we went to the next lesson, dedicated to the theory of Darkness magic.

***

After reaching the Darkness magic classroom, Catherine and I comfortably settled in the middle rows. The magic instructor was an elderly woman, Magister Kirlena, who had obvious health problems and was clearly finding it difficult to teach the students.

“Welcome, everyone, to this important and often underestimated subject,” the magister said in a hoarse voice. “Today, we will be studying the advanced Darkness spell—‘Blindness.’”

It was a very simple Darkness spell, but I listened patiently to the magister, trying to pay more attention to Catherine than to her.

Catherine, seeing my periodic glances, whispered, “Unlike with Order magic, my proficiency in Darkness magic is quite high,” she said proudly, not realizing that her “quite high” was at the level of dust under my feet.

“Alright, then I won’t distract you,” I replied in the same whisper as she had.

Catherine smiled. “Good, I’m listening to the instructor,” she said and began to listen attentively to the lecture on the basic principles of the blindness spell.

After finishing the theoretical part, Magister Kirlena walked to the corner of the room and pulled a dark cloth off a cage standing in the corner. A wild, almost deafening roar immediately came from the cage.

A hoofed animal covered in scales instead of fur, with blue eyes like the blue sky and horns sticking out all over its head, began to aggressively push its horns against the cage.

Most of the students, including Catherine, were frightened by this unexpected sight, but I didn't care. I watched as Magister Kirlena cast a blindness spell on the creature, and it immediately lay down obediently on the floor of the cage.

“This is a coal-hoof, a very aggressive and carnivorous animal that lives in the high mountains. It hunts during the day and sleeps at night,” the magister said. “Now, come down one by one. Your task is to cast a blindness spell on it before it screams again.”

The blindness spell without enhancements lasted exactly two minutes, and the students had to act very quickly to cast the spell on it. However, even I had to cover my ears today to avoid going deaf, as the first-year students were so unsure of their work.

When it was my turn, I performed the spell in its classic form on the first try. It was no problem for me, and I knew many ways to cause even permanent blindness, but I would never use it on an innocent animal.

Strangely enough, it was Catherine’s turn much later than mine. She confidently walked up to the coal-hoof, and when its blue eyes began to clear, her spell erupted in a huge burst of Darkness and instantly blinded the coal-hoof. By the most conservative estimates, she blinded it for at least an hour.

Magister Kirlena, seeing that something had gone wrong, became sharply indignant.

“Miss Holu! You used an enhanced ‘Blindness’ spell!” she said in a hoarse but irritated voice. “Where did you learn it? Now, because of you, the other students will be without practice.”

Catherine panicked and looked down.

Seeing that the situation was getting out of control, I decided to help Catherine and raised my hand.

“Miss Nox, do you have something to say?” the magister asked with displeasure.

“Magister Kirlena, I could try to use an Order spell to restore the coal-hoof’s sight,” I said politely, rising from my seat.

“Very interesting, Miss Nox,” she said in the same hoarse and displeased voice. “Demonstrate your skills, considering that blindness can only be removed by purification, which is a Light magic spell.”

On the one hand, she was right, of course, but on the other hand, the “Return to Basics” spell could have returned the coal-hoof to its state before the spell was cast. However, due to the lack of knowledge of Order magic among most, she was making a common human mistake. I went out again and stood in front of the cage. Golden threads of Order from my fingers streamed towards the coal-hoof, and a moment later, it roared furiously.

Magister Kirlena cast a blinding spell on it and addressed us. “Miss Nox, excellent work. Now, return to your seat. And you, Miss Holu, be careful and don’t do what you weren’t asked to do.”

Catherine and I returned to our seats. Catherine was clearly unhappy at being reprimanded and gave me a pitiful look, seeking support.

“Arta, but I did everything according to the instructions!” she whispered indignantly.

“Yes, but you weren’t concentrated enough and overdid it. Besides, we talked about the prosthesis; it probably enhanced your Darkness magic too.”

Catherine sighed in disappointment. Her Darkness magic had significantly increased, but she had not yet learned to control it properly. I would probably have to pay more attention to her handling of this type of magic.

***

When the Darkness magic lesson was over, we went to lunch. Catherine was almost silent, and her eyes were full of thought.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and when we had almost finished lunch, she addressed me: “Arta, I need to figure out this prosthesis. I’m going to the library right now and read everything there is on the subject.”

Her persistence was amazing, and I would probably have to admit sooner or later that I was the one who created the prosthesis. She would probably be offended by my deception, but that was the price I had to pay from the beginning.

“I was also planning to go to the library to study materials on Order magic.”

“Alright, then let’s go together,” Catherine said with a soft smile. “I want to put an end to this matter. This prosthesis clearly has some hidden power, and I need to know what it is.”

I smiled back at her, and we, leaving our trays of food, headed to the library, located on the third floor of the central building.

When we arrived at the library, there were many students. Catherine went to the librarian to find out where to find the books she was interested in, and I, taking an old treatise on Order magic by Erronor Griver from 767 according to Illumora time from its usual shelf, sat down in a comfortable armchair and began to pretend to read.

However, I was soon interrupted: Olivia Briggs entered the library and, seeing me, almost ran up to me.

“Oh, Arta, hi!” she exclaimed in an almost loud voice, breaking the usual silence in the library.

“Hi, please speak more quietly. We’re disturbing others,” I replied in an almost whisper.

She put her hand to her lips, as if she had forgotten she was in a library, and her eyes filled with guilt.

“I just wanted you to recommend a book on Order magic for beginners,” she replied in a low voice.

“To start, begin with Amelia Styx, 542 edition. There is one copy in the library. It describes the basic principles of using Order magic very structurally.”

Olivia nodded. “Alright, what else would you recommend?”

“You can read the author known as the One-Eyed Scoundrel. Unfortunately, his name has not survived to this day.” Although I knew very well that his name was Illun Mortemor, this knowledge was far beyond the understanding of this world, to the general information field of the Al’aran petal universe.

“I see. And what else?” she asked again.

“I recommend that you study the materials I named in detail. They will be enough for you for at least a few Veytras,” I said with a slight sigh. She didn’t understand the basic principles of Order magic, but she strove to know what was not given to her by nature.

“But still?” she smiled.

“As soon as you’re familiar with their works, come back, and I’ll recommend something else.”

Soon, Catherine approached us with several thick volumes on the history and practice of magical prosthetics.

“Oh, I see. I won’t disturb you,” Olivia said, seeing Catherine, and immediately moved away, heading for the library exit. It was obvious that she was no longer planning to read today.

“She’s strange,” Catherine remarked, opening one of the books.

“I agree,” I replied quietly, continuing to pretend to read.

I watched carefully as Catherine read about magical prostheses, but the more she read, the more disappointment appeared on her face.

“Alright, let’s finish. My eyes are already hurting,” she complained to me.

“Of course, let’s finish,” I agreed with her. “Are we going to fencing?”

Catherine looked at me and froze for a moment, as if she had forgotten about it.

“Yes, of course, let’s go! I want to learn how to fence with swords and prove to you that I’m a diligent student!” she said with a smile, after which we got up and left the library.

***

The sun had already set behind the horizon, enveloping the Academy of Duality in a soft twilight. The air was cool but not cold—the perfect time for an evening workout. We went to our room to get the wooden swords and then headed to our usual forest clearing.

When Catherine took the sword in her hands, she turned to me enthusiastically: “And what’s on the agenda today?”

“Practicing basic strikes. What else do you want from our second lesson?” I replied with an intentional smile.

Catherine smiled back at me, and we began our training. I couldn't help but notice how perfectly her prosthesis worked: it allowed her to move with a grace she couldn't have dreamed of even with a healthy leg. My magic worked perfectly, although it sometimes enhanced her too much, which raised her questions.

I watched her movements, maintaining a calm and outward indifference. She obediently repeated my every move, and her progress became obvious. With a slight inner satisfaction, I watched her movements and understood that she really wanted to master all the advantages of fencing with swords. Catherine was no longer the fragile girl who relied on crutches. Now she was confident and determined, although her eyes still betrayed an inner struggle to understand her new strength and role.

“You’re getting better,” I said, taking a step forward. My voice was even, with a friendly tone. “But you think too much about how to strike correctly. Sometimes during lunges, you just need to act.”

Catherine lowered her wooden sword, her breathing slightly ragged after the intense workout. She looked at me, and her expression was a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.

“You’re always so composed, Arta,” she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. “How do you manage it? Even when you’re teaching me or watching me, you seem… as if you’re above it all.”

I smiled at her barely noticeably and answered her next questions: “Upbringing and training create habits, and with habits come calmness and an understanding of what you really want.”

She nodded thoughtfully, but her gaze became even more intense.

“And what do you want, Arta? I mean… your real goals or desires?” She looked at me as if she wanted to know my most secret goals, but her expression was only one of sincere interest.

“Goals and desires only matter when they are achievable,” I replied in a calm voice and, to avoid further questions, added, “For now, focus on what you can control. For example, your sword.”

Catherine raised her wooden sword again, but her expression told me that she hadn’t forgotten her question. However, she decided not to insist—at least for now.

“Alright,” she said, lunging towards me. “Then show me a more complex move.”

Our training continued for about another hour, after which we returned to our room. The air inside was a bit cool but cozy thanks to the soft light of the lamp on the table. Catherine sat on the bed, massaging her right shoulder, which was definitely a little sore after the intense workout. I took my place on my bed, getting ready for sleep.

“I remembered something today,” Catherine said suddenly, breaking the silence. “When I was little, my brother often told me stories about Order magic. He said it was the most difficult and noble form of magic because it requires absolute self-control.”

I looked at her, watching her reaction carefully.

“And what do you think about it now?” I asked.

Catherine shrugged. “I used to think that because of the desecration of the Veytra of Order, this magic was gone from our world forever, but now I understand that I was wrong.” Catherine sighed and paused. “But yes, now I understand that my brother was right. Order magic requires absolute self-control, and it seems to me that you are helping me with that.” She smiled and looked at me with eyes full of expectation.

I nodded slowly, agreeing with her conclusion.

“In any case, over time, I will teach you the peculiarities of the magic I know. I don’t promise it will be easy, but you will definitely be able to unlock your potential for both Order and Darkness magic.”

“Yes, I would like to develop my abilities in this direction,” she replied with an even bigger smile. After which, she paused for a moment, thoughtfully touching her prosthesis, and then spoke again. “You know, sometimes I feel that this prosthesis is not just a magical item. It’s as if it were created for me. With it, I feel complete, and it helps me become better.”

“It’s not surprising. The work of the artisans from the Tarvarian Empire can surprise many,” I replied and smiled at her intentionally.

Catherine smiled back at me, and a familiar glint appeared in her eyes.

“Thank you, Arta. I don’t know what I would do without you. But please answer one last question about the prosthesis: when did you manage to take my measurements so that it fits so perfectly?” Her question was one of sincere curiosity, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous.

“To be honest, I had to do it at night while you were sleeping. I’m sorry,” I replied, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“I see. I thought so,” Catherine replied. “Thank you for your honesty and for the surprise!”

I just nodded back, maintaining my usual calmness. But inside, I understood: my investments were yielding results too quickly, and surprisingly, it was pleasant even for me.

***

The night was quiet, as it always was at the academy after curfew. I lay silently in my bed and looked at the window in the center of the room, where one of the three moons of Illumora was displayed. Catherine, it seemed to me, had been asleep for a long time—her breathing was even, and her bed creaked only once when she turned over. But suddenly, her voice broke the silence: “Arta… are you awake?”

I wasn’t surprised. Her restlessness had become an almost familiar background in recent days. Catherine was too inquisitive and too persistent to just silently observe what she didn’t understand.

“No,” I replied without turning. My gaze remained fixed on the window, although I knew very well that she was looking at me now. “Did something happen?”

Catherine hesitated. I could feel her indecision even across the room. She sat up in bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

“I wanted to talk… about my prosthesis.”

I frowned barely noticeably, assuming we had settled all the questions earlier in the day.

“Arta, sometimes when I touch the prosthesis, I feel like you’re next to me. I don’t know why, but it seems kind of strange…” she muttered.

Her feeling was correct: inside the prosthesis was a part of me, and she couldn't help but feel it.

“Does it bother you?” I asked in a low voice.

“Not really. It’s more comforting, you know…” she replied in a friendly manner. “You know, I wanted to ask you something else: you don’t mind that I set my schedule just like yours, do you?”

“If it suits you, then I don’t mind,” I replied, understanding that her presence nearby was a convenient way to monitor my asset.

“I just consider you a friend…” she replied in a low voice. “I’ve never a had friends like you, Arta.”

“And what about Lilian?” I asked, trying to understand what she meant.

“We get along well, but it’s not as close as with you.”

“I understand. Catherine, I’ll try to be a good friend to you.” I slowly turned my head to look at her. Her eyes shone in the semi-darkness and betrayed a peaceful calm.

“You know, Arta,” she began again. “I would like to be near you not only for help or advice. I would like to understand what you need, what you live for, what you do in your free time,” she said quietly. “I would like to repay you with the same kindness that you did for me.”

“I think you’ll have enough time to get to know me. After all, we even live in the same room,” I said in a low voice.

“I agree,” she replied quietly.

“Good night, Catherine. We need to rest. Another school day tomorrow.”

“Good night, Arta!” she stammered and closed her eyes.

I turned on my side and listened to her breathing until it became even and calm again, after which I myself fell into the sleep that my body so needed.