Slowly, the level of flux in the vial was dropping. It cast its soft white light all across the room even in the dark of the night. Nannade’s head weighed heavy, propped up above the tome on her hands and elbows. Her eyes wandered over the pages, from left to right and back again like a pendulum, ticking away the moments of her waking mind, sleep drawing closer as inevitable as the flood draws closer to the sand castle of a child.

The reading was helping her not one bit, but she would not be deterred. Languages would have been easier for her to study, she mastered those with ease, but history was just boring, and using different, conflicting sources was even worse. She had tried to dig a sliver of undeniable truth out of these pages and many more. The time to call it a night came, so she put a bookmark between the pages and slammed the large tome shut. She made her way to Master Paramonos’ library when Korinna crossed her way.

Nannade decided to be friendly, Korinna was not an enemy. “Good evening.”

Korinna walked past her without saying anything.

“What is your cursed problem?”

Korinna stopped and turned her head to Nannade. “It’s simple, Sinner. I don’t fraternise with abominations and daemons.”

That word, that title, it dug deep into Nannade, the searing pain of branding flared up in her mind. She wanted to ask Korinna not to use that word, but she could not even formulate the words, she knew it was not just impossible, but immoral to defy her title. She exhaled and gathered her diffused thoughts. “That explains your clenched-up attitude, but what about the others? Did you tell them? Did you go around telling I’m a sinner and whatnot? Or is everyone at this damn school a tight-arsed taffhead?”

Korinna turned around properly and came a few steps closer. “Do you expect me to believe you are really this stupid, Sinner? That can’t be, you have been here for almost three months and you still didn’t realize?”

Nannade thought about what that could mean, trying to remember something she missed, but in the end, she had to shake her head.

Korinna pointed to Nannade’s sash, bright red as her own. “You wear a red sash, idiot. That means you’re a student of the House of the Forbidden. But you wear the hat of a student of lower rank, meaning you were initiated into the House of the Forbidden.”

Nannade still wasn’t sure what Korinna was talking about and simply shrugged.

“Nobody is initiated into the House of the Forbidden. Most are either initiated into the House of the Forgotten to study history and ancient texts, or into the House of the Unknown to inquire and study what has never been known before. Some are initiated into the House of the Unseen to study the nature beyond the veil. Nobody is initiated into the House of the Forbidden or in the House of the Unthought, but those guys just fill their heads with smoke and wine all day, they are no danger. But the House of the Forbidden, even students of higher rank who study here are treated as dangerous and outcasts most of the time. Everyone knows you have to be connected to the Forbidden itself, they can smell the stench of sin on you.”

Her last words resounded and the corridor seemed a lot colder now.

“Does that answer your question?”

Nannade nodded. “I knew from the first day the two of us wouldn’t become friends, but I mean you no harm.”

“I do mean you harm, Sinner, and that Daemon of yours as well. I want to purge you and your ilk from this world as much as your Teacher should. I know not what kind of sworn brotherhood you belong to, but I can feel that you should be on the pointy end of his blade, not his hilt.” Her eyes were full of spite, unbridled for the first time.

Nannade straightened her back and braced her shoulders against the weight of the tome. “If it was that easy to catch me on the pointy end of any blade, it would have happened a long time ago. And with every day, I become better. Study me while you can. If you ever make a move on me, you’ll die screaming.”

Korinna seemed unimpressed, instead she put on a disgusting smile and turned around. Nannade continued her way to the library when she suddenly heard Korinna call out to her. “Sinner Nannade!”

She turned around.

“Do you believe what they tell you here is the right thing?”

Again, Nannade did not know what to answer. “It doesn’t seem to be false, maybe a bit hard to chew and theoretical.”

“Just because something is not false, that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing. These are the Houses of Mysteries, not the Houses of Truth. To reveal a mystery weakens it, Sinner. Never forget that. You think you know shadows, but you are so blind you don’t even know what a shadow looks like. From Timaeus it would be expected, he mistakes obedience for potential and thinks himself a student when he is a lapdog. But you, Sinner Nannade, I take for a much smarter and powerful person. If you weren’t you would have been burned to ashes by the clergy as you should be a long time ago.” Korinna turned back around and left.

Nannade was alone on the corridor, tome in hand. She returned the tome to the library. As she put it back into its place on the shelf, Korinna’s words still stuck with her. She tried to remember the lessons they were taught. Heaps and heaps of books to read from different time periods, dry theory with no practical examples, even in alchemy they rarely were allowed to recreate experiments or applications of what they had to learn. All in all, it was mostly flashy lights and big words. Understanding seemed not the criteria they were tested for, but willingness to endure the lessons and studies. And even Master Paramonos was very good at putting her off every time she had a question. His house was large from the outside, but she had seen surprisingly few rooms and ever since her first job that took her into the tunnels, Nannade did not believe his house – which touched the slope in the back – was just what could be seen with the naked eye.

She looked around. The library was a room with enough room to house a dozen beds, but still not the biggest room in the large house. Master Paramonos’ private study was bigger. And this wasn’t where Master Paramonos kept all his books either, many more were kept somewhere else; probably the private study.

She contemplated for a moment. She did not return to her bedroom. She walked past the students’ part of the house and further into the back. She stopped before Master Paramonos’ study and inspected the lock. It seemed simple enough, but she couldn’t be too careful. She flipped through her cast book to retrieve an Arcane Lens. A quick inspection revealed the door to not be trapped or under the influence of a vigilance spell. She had never lost the habit of keeping important tools on her person. She could bend her hair pins into lock picks, but that would waste time and hairpins. Instead, she pulled the tools required from the waistband of her skirt. The lock was quickly defeated and the door opened. She had been in Master Paramonos’ private study many times before, but never alone. Everything was neat and tidy. Another Arcane Lens did not reveal any further measures; Master Paramonos couldn’t be this naïve. Something had to be supervising this place. Nannade closed the door and got to inspecting the contents of the room; she could not find anything useful, the shelves contained mostly copies of books found in many a magical library, smaller index works and collection of essays, everything ordered alphabetically. On the desk lay a single notebook and inside, painstakingly accurate descriptions and anatomy, but no private notes or diary entries. This could not be all. A secret behind a secret, a shadow within a shadow, it had to be here somewhere.

She started to turn every book, scroll and sheet of paper she could find, lifted rugs, tables and chairs in search of a secret door or hidden passageway. When she was just about to give up, she could feel something, as if someone was poking her shoulder form behind. When she turned around, she saw a tapestry. She had already checked behind it and had found nothing but a blank wall, but as she looked at the tapestry straight ahead, she felt almost as if she had forgotten to really inspect it, as if she had passed it over without noticing. She stepped closer and felt drawn into the pattern of threads. A gentle push and stroke of the weavings revealed something to her. She pulled the tapestry down and as it fell, it unfurled to multiple times its original length, falling down a flight of stairs that had appeared on the wall behind it. Like a red carpet rolled out for royalty, the tapestry beckoned her to follow the stairs downward. She was not alone, she could tell. The mystery drew her in. It had invited her, to refuse would have been most rude.