Light pierced into Philip’s eyes as morning came far too quick. He groaned, his bed lumpy and hard, and sat up to realize he rolled off the couch and onto the piles of papers he moved the night before. His back popped as he sat up and he stretched. Bits of pain shot through his back as he opened a few scabs which had sealed up the night before.

With a wince, Philip looked around the living area. Just like the night before, it was filled with piles and piles of papers. Bookshelves lined every wall, though strangely there were no windows outside the glass ceiling. A number of astronomical instruments seemed to litter the few surfaces which failed to have some sort of pile of papers and books.

He looked up at the ceiling. The entire thing was glass which seemed to enhance the slightly overcast sky. Details on the clouds seemed to almost enhance the longer he stared at them. At the edge of the glass dome he could see the Astronomy tower rising up into the sky. Balconies littered the surface of the wall, and off each one was a plethora of telescopes of various sizes. At the top of the tower was the largest one Philip had ever seen. The glass roof magnified it until Philip felt he could almost touch it.

“Beautiful sight, isn’t it?”

Philip jumped and turned to see the old woman from the night before standing near the stairwell. She was looking up as she entered the living area, weaving around the piles of papers with an ease her hobble that was seen the previous night nowhere to be seen.

“The sky is a wonder to behold,” she continued. “The Kingdom of the Isles might float above an ocean of clouds, but there are still so many wonders above us that are out of reach.”

“Kingdom of the Isles?” Philip asked as he stood from his makeshift, papery bed. He glanced down and saw a few small dark-red blotches on the papers and grimaced. Hopefully they were not important.

“An old name for the Kingdom, Apprentice,” the old master replied. “Kingdom of the Isles, The Floating Kingdom, The Magic Isles, Helena’s Keep. Each one an old reference to our lands before the cataclysm. Have the Historians not taught you our history?”

Philip just shrugged as he weaved and stepped over the maze of pages. “I have learned a decent amount. Most of my lessons have been about the glory of the different houses, their contributions, and other such noble deeds.”

The old woman let out an irritated ‘tch’ and flopped onto the chair she sat on the night before. “Nothing but useless prattling of old men and rubbish.”

Philip almost made it to his chair but the old woman stopped him and asked him to prepare some tea. Not able to say no to one of the Masters, Philip left to the kitchen which luckily was next to the living area. The Peak’s complex was small compared to the rest of the University’s building. The main structure was the living area which held the kitchen and a few other room’s Philip had yet to explore. There were a few wings off to the side which Philip assumed held the old student dorms and servant quarters, but from what the woman said the night before they were now storage rooms.

The Kitchen was only slightly better than the living area. There were less papers and more piles of books and crates. There were also a number of large bags which Philip guessed held wheat and other cooking ingredients. There was an wood old stove sitting close to some counters which were stuffed with dishes, and at the edge of one was a teapot.

He picked up the teapot and grimaced. The inside was filled with old leaves caked onto the sides. Nothing should be made in this thing without a thorough cleaning. He rinsed it with water from a nearby pump. Once it looked usable again he filled it with water and brought it back to the counter, then started searching for the leaves to make the tea.

A number of boxes were piled nearby, right next to a worn piece of flint. Philip opened each one and the fragrance of old leaves hit him, but they were empty. He piled each one to the side until he finally found one that still had a few scoops of leaves.

He gave a satisfied nod, finally ready to begin the brewing process, and tried to pull out some mana. Once he reached for his core a crushing coldness hit him.

It was still a void. Empty. Philip sighed and shivered at the discomforting feeling. Whatever he did yesterday was really, really bad. There was no choice anymore, he had to go see Priestess Emily.

Solidifying himself and abandoning the idea of using magic he started to search around the room. Most servants couldn’t use magic, so there had to be a way for them to heat food for the nobility. Philip opened a cabinet only to see it was empty except for dust and cobwebs. He closed it and moved to the next one only for it to be the same. Then the next one. And the next. He started to open the drawers and found only a few utensils.

“How is that tea coming?” the woman called. “I hear a lot of banging and not a lot of bubbling.”

Philip sighed as he neared the end of the counter. Most of the drawers were empty as well. Old cloths and silverware were the closest thing he found to anything useful. And even the cloth was motheaten.

“Do you have any servants up here?” Philip inquired. He already knew the answer but he had to ask to confirm.

“Not for a long while, no,” she grumbled. “They always messed with my research so I sent them packing to bother someone else.” Her tone became slightly mocking “Why? Don’t know how to brew tea, Apprentice?”

A spark of irritation erupted in Philip. “Of course I know how to make tea,” he snapped.

“Then making the tea should be no trouble.”

Philip ground his teeth. She was pushing his buttons on purpose. At least that is what he decided to assume. But he will hold his temper like he always had to do and follow her directions. Only around a year and a half left before he could finally leave this floating rock and do something with his life. He just had to avoid getting into more trouble so he could get noticed by a small noble family. Once adopted, he should be able to avoid the larger players of the Noble’s Game and stay out of any mess they want to create. So the plan of action was he had to become strong enough to be noticed, but small enough to stay irrelevant so he could keep most of his freedom after the adoption. Right now this woman was just another hurdle to overcome.

He shrugged his shoulders to remove the discomfort of his ill-fitted outfit and stinging back. She wanted tea, he would give her tea. But it will be served when it is good and done, with no shortcuts. So he would start a fire and boil the water like a commoner. He thought back to when he last did something like this, but nothing came to mind.

He would also have to follow Mel’s advice and start focusing on some practical skills. You can’t always rely on magic, despite how convenient it was. Plus he had to get in shape again, so starting a fire will be a good first step in that exercise.

This might actually be a fun challenge. A smile came to his face as he tried to remember the basics of starting a fire. He could use the knife with some flint to make sparks. He then needed some tinder, kindling, and fuel. Tinder to begin the fire from the sparks, and kindling to catch and hold the fire long enough for the fuel to begin to burn and have the fire stable enough to keep going.

He moved to one of the open crates and heft up the lid, placing it at a slant onto the floor. With a powerful stomp he splintered it. A few more kicks later the thing fell to pieces and he gathered up the wood.

Fuel, gathered.

He took the fuel to the stove and shoved it inside. Cobwebs from its disuse were destroyed as larger pieces slid in. He then took a few larger shards and used a knife from the drawers to carve small splinters, each thin strand sticking up like a claw. The slivers will catch much faster than the rest of the wood and should hopefully burn long enough for the rest of the sprinter to catch. That meant he had kindling ready.

He carefully piled the kindling in so the carved pieces intersected the fuel. Philip then moved to the crate and pulled out some straw to act as the tinder and stuck it around the bottom of the fire pile.

With everything prepared, he pulled out a knife from one of the drawers and started to strike it against the flint. Sparks erupted from each strike and the hay began to smoke. Philip blew a few soft breaths to encourage it to fully catch and a small flame arose. He continued to send sparks around the pile until the flames began to grow. The kindling caught easily and it soon began to clearly burn.

That was much easier than Philip remembered. Before he learned how to grasp magic he and Lily struggled to light a candle to study when it got dark. Half the time he would have to balance Lily on his shoulders so they could take some flame from the lanterns in the hallways. It was when they had to light a fire in the cold months that they truly struggled with fire. Servants seldom went to the novice quarters as they were supposed to be semi-self sufficient. A popular trait for a mage.

He closed the stove and waited for the stovetop to warm. The nostalgic scent of smoke wafted through the kitchen. It had a different scent from magical fire. It was hard to describe, but if Philip had to explain it he would say it was a smoother smell. There was less static in it. The wood was giving it a more earthy scent, added in with a nostalgic smell of smoke.

He scrunched his face. That wasn’t a good way to explain it either. How could one explain how magic felt? It just was, so when it was gone it was like there was an entire sensation missing. Like a roast being too dry due to the lack of moisture.

The stovetop started to slightly glow in heat. Philip grabbed a clean pot and filled it with water from the pump and placed it on the stove and waited.

With nothing else to do but wait for the water to boil he sat on a crate and leaned back. His body still ached from the chase yesterday. Luckily his head is not foggy from whatever damage he received from the fall, but there was definitely some solid bruising across his back and shoulders. Nothing seemed broken, at least.

In the end he was lucky to run into the old woman… no. She was Master Rolune. Philip had to work on his naming sense. Nothing good would happen if he would accidentally call her ‘old woman’ because of some habit. She was the closest thing to an ally he had at the moment so he could not risk anything to upset her.

Philip recalled the night before. She mentioned that the Dean had interfered in the day's events, which is both surprising and not. The student council controlled all matters related to the students, so because the entire issue was through Lily’s idiotic plots he had no reason to interfere. But at the same time it crumbled into a major mess which caused trouble for most of the Low City, with potentially some very expensive damage left over.

So him popping in to stop it from getting worse was only logical. The question was what exactly transpired behind the scenes, and who was this Rupert Blackledge? Philip could not recall any professors by the name from any of his lessons. Perhaps he was one of the pure researchers, or maybe a representative from the Blackledge family who wastes their time at the University looking for ‘talent’.

It would explain how he never met him. The representatives Philip avoided like the plague, because they loved to pull students into the schemes of whatever nonsense happened outside the University. They also loved to be treated like demigods within the University walls. Spoken to with reverence by lower ranked students trying to gain favor, and with caution by the upper to avoid causing disputes between families. All of that just begged trouble for a commoner with no backing.

if he was a researcher, then things might be better. They loved to focus just on their work and took in assistants for basic fetching work. If this Rupert guy was a researcher then Philip could use him as a shield for a short time, and not be overly burdened with work besides the occasional errand. It wasn’t like he wanted to learn whatever secrets the guy had, so there was no reason to get too close to him.

In the end Philip hoped that he was a researcher and had to thank him for his ‘assistance’ in dealing with the mob. Philip grimaced at the thought of owing the man a favor. Philip’s father told him that a man has to repay his debts, so he will do what he can for his new teacher. At least until they were even.

Perhaps the man was his key to getting adopted into a decent house as well? He will have to ask Lily or Mel if they heard of the Blackledge family. It would save him from a lifetime of being a soldier, but to keep some aspect of his freedom he would have to find a way to be of value.

Philip pondered on how to play his new hand to his advantage when the woman called out.

“Either the water is boiling or you need to work on your whistling. That tune is dreadfully one note.”

Philip rolled his eyes and stood up and took a hold of its handles and carefully poured it into the teapot. Once it was full he took a circular mesh and filled it with tea leaves and dipped it inside the teapot.

As the tea brewed he closed the air vents to the stove, cutting off air and suffocating the fire. He then collected the cups and tea onto a tray and carried them into the living area.

The old wo-- Master Rolune was still sitting in her seat, reading a thick tome with a cracked leather cover. Star symbols were stamped onto the cover in the formation of a constellation. As he entered she peered above the cover. She was wearing some small reading glasses, barely perched on the tip of her nose.

“Oh, good,” she smirked. “For a short while I thought you ran off after catching my home on fire.”

Philip rolled his eyes as he set one of the cups in front of her. He placed the teapot and his own cup on the table and sat in his chair.

“If I was going to burn down this place I would have started in this room,” he joshed. “The paper would catch much easier than dirty dishes.”

“Too obvious, though,” Rolune retorted. “I could easily put out the fire before too much damage was done. The kitchen would be better as I wouldn’t check until the smoke started coming in here.”

“Then why use the kitchen when I could use one of the side wings?” Philip countered. “You said yourself they were filled with more papers and moth-eaten fabrics. So if I truly wanted to do some damage I would start somewhere further away from where you are, hoping the fire burned down a majority of the complex before you could react.”

Rolune gave a proud nod as she closed her book. It creaked in distress, parts of the leather seeming to slowly crack further. Rolune placed it on the table and folded her hands patiently. Philip took the teapot and poured her a glass, careful to keep it from spilling on the paper-filled table. After, he poured himself a cup and set the pot down.

Rolune took the cup and sipped. Her face twitched, but she took another sip before setting the cup down. Philip followed suit by sipping his own.

It was bitter.

He placed his cup down and sighed in disappointment.

“Too long,” He muttered.

“Yes,” Rolune replied. She waved her hand and the lid of the teapot came off. She flicked her wrist and the mesh with the tea leaves and set it on the table, replacing the lid afterward. “You forgot to remove the leaves. So the tea is now bitter, but not unbearably so. You also made it the common way, without magic. I do not taste the spark of it in the tea?”

“I thought it would be best to practice practical skills,” Philip lied, shrugging his shoulders. “Like cooking and making tea without the aid of magic. We cannot become too reliant.”

The old woman’s face broke into an enormous smile. Her eyes seemed to change into a predatory gaze as she studied Philip. A light sweat formed on Philip, her attention feeling almost like a physical weight.

“I like you, young man,” she cooed. Her gaze lessoned but remained on him as she took her cup and took another sip. “One should never forget the foundations to life. The common folk don’t have our gifts, but what they do is in no way less important. Remember, all knowledge is power. Not just meditation and silly weaving sessions. Spells are cast from logic and understanding, not memorization and regurgitation.”

One of her hands started to glow. She waved it and sparkles started to shimmer around her. Philip gasped as he did not see any strings of mana coming from her, but he could feel the magic flowing around him.

“Magic,” she started, “Is the foundation to the universe. The fabric which holds the realms together, binding them into tangible entities but also separating that which shouldn’t touch. The Hells and Heavens, the mortal realm and the realm of immortals. Each one is on the same tapestry. All touched by magic.”

“What does this have to do with making tea with a real fire?” Philip asked. He peered into the air around him but he could still not see the threads of magic. It was like he was looking into a mist. Philip shivered. He had to remind himself that she was a master mage. He must be seeing one of the skills one must learn to earn the title… threadless magic?

“You making tea is a form of magic,” Rolune chuckled. “Common magic. The kind that everyone can use. It is the same magic which creates rain, wind, and natural disasters.” The teapot lifted and she poured herself another glass. “Making the fire is like elemental magic. Brewing tea is a simple alchemical process. The only difference is you follow the natural rules. But using mana breaks those rules, allowing you to create something from virtually nothing.”

The teapot hovered over his cup and filled his glass with more of the bitter substance. Philip eyed it, then he glanced at Rolune. She gave a slight smile as she lifted her own and took a sip. Philip sighed as he took his own cup and drank, flinching at the bitterness again. He really messed up this batch… mental note to take the leaves out before leaving the kitchen next time.

“What is your point?” Philip glowered.

“My point, Apprentice, is you need to learn the natural process of things as well as learn magic.” She flicked her wrist and the sparkles began to slowly spin around them. “I am the Astrologist. I observe and record the natural world. What makes the wood flammable but stone not? What part of the leaves changes the taste of the water? Why does the water need to be hot for the tea to brew properly and not chilled?”

As she spoke the sparkles grew in intensity. She lifted her glowing hand and began to point at specific lights.

“Observe and learn. If you want to get better at crafting your spells, watch nature and see how it reacts to everything around it. If you want to learn how to control others, watch people and learn how they think. If you want to learn the ‘how’ of magic, watch the stars and learn how to read the skies.”

Now the woman was rambling. “Listen, Master Rolune. I’m sure you mean well, but what does this have to do with any of this?” He waved his hands. “Your magic is impressive, but this won’t help me once I leave the Peak and go back into campus. From my understanding I’m a wanted man right now.”

“Then you need to become stronger,” Rolune snorted. “The only reason you’re worried about being wanted is because you’re too weak to defend yourself.”

“Um… what?” What was this woman spewing now? First she was rambling and now she was calling him weak. What is her game? Philip was thinking that her help yesterday was unusually generous for a member of the University. There was always another angle. She wanted to use him for something.

“If you don’t want to worry about getting pushed around, you have to become powerful,” Rolune coached. “Why do you think I can live up here alone?”

“Because you’re a Master,” Philip replied.

“Exactly!” She waved her hand, the sparkles slowly flew together and created what looked like a mini sun in her hand. “I am powerful. I have earned the right to sit up here and do whatever I want. Do you think just anyone else could claim an entire complex to themselves? Could anyone else sit up here for two decades doing whatever they feel like? Not even the Dean himself could remove me unless I wanted to move.”

Philip examined the old woman. She did not come off as the powerhouse she claimed herself to be. Her blue robes, while obviously made of the best materials, were old and faded. Her gray hair was in a long braid which had fallen out of style before Philip was even born. She didn’t even have an imposing presence as her stature was barely at his shoulder when she was standing. The most noticeable thing about her was her magnified eyes. They were sharp and intelligent, if almost comically large with her glasses.

“I can see you don’t believe me,” she crooned.

“It isn’t about not believing you,” Philip started but he suddenly could not speak. The magic he felt intensified to an extreme degree. He felt like he was standing underwater. The weight of the mana was squeezing him, though not to an uncomfortable amount.

The word then went dark. He did not go unconscious, but now both of the woman’s hands were glowing. She was flicking them back and forth. Philip saw the occasional strand fly out only to disappear into the darkness. The sun she was holding rose above her head with more sparkles appearing around the dark space. The sparkles felt like lightning. No, they were not electric, but they pulsed with some kind of power.

“Power is control,” she declared. “You now cannot move because a third of my aura is stronger than your entire being. If you cannot even stand something this elementary then you’ll become someone else's plaything.”

She gave him a look and he felt his body lift off the chair. Philip panicked, but he still could not move. He glanced around and noticed that he was drifting around the mini-sun like the sparkles. The darkness lit up as the sparkles flashed, power erupting from them and flying into the sun. Philip felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the power he felt from it.

It was like a thunderstorm shot across the space into the sun, and the sun barely pulsed. Another sparkle flashed, then another. It was like Philip was caught in an array of blinding light. Heat radiated around him followed by a cold flash once the light disappeared.

“Do you want to be a pawn or a player?” Rolune asked. “Do you seek strength or compliance?”

Philip groaned. The force around him squeezed again, but this time Philip pushed back. He tried to pull magic out of his core with no effect. He glared at the woman. She wanted to play this kind of game, then he was willing to play hard as well.

He needed to get out of the air. The flashes were flying all around him, but each one seemed to strike the sun. Beneath it, where Rolune stood, appeared to be a safe zone. He pushed against the force. His muscles bulged and he felt sweat start to fall down his brow. It was like pushing against a wall, but the wall was soft and malleable. He felt himself move, his arms reached outward to grab the woman. She was out of reach, so he pushed his legs against the pressure as well.

It was like stepping on mush, but he moved forward. He lifted one leg and pushed again. Then again. The few feet between them slowly reduced until suddenly the pressure disappeared and he slammed onto the ground.

Philip groaned, his back feeling wet again as his wounds opened fully. This woman was insane and was trying to kill him. He tried to stand but his body ached too much to move. His muscles only twitched and he flopped back onto the floor. He pushed himself up and glared.

She was sitting in her chair, calmly sipping another cup of tea.

“Good,” she smiled. “You resist. You fought. You sought freedom.”

“You’re insane,” Philip growled.

“I’ve been called worse by your betters,” she laughed.

“Now sit. You only drank half of your tea.”

Philip grumbled. He was in no condition to run. The events from yesterday were still far too fresh. He fumbled around and eventually managed to sit up on the floor. His teacup was hovering in front of him once he managed to stabilize himself.

Philip’s mouth felt dry. He took his tea and sipped deeply. The bitter water helped, snapping his mind back to the tasks at hand. He needed help, he had to get healed, and he needed to find Lily. Not in that order, but all three had to be done.

“Knowledge is power,” He repeated halfheartedly.

“Are you still not convinced?” she chortled.

“I enjoy reading books,” Philip said. “I like to learn and study. But… I don’t have time to learn magic like that.”

“Time is not what you lack, Apprentice. You lack focus. Knowledge is like glass. You can make a large bowl to hold everything, but if it isn’t focused it is brittle and weak. If you make one with a proper focus it can be like a telescope and reveal things which have never been seen before.

“You must decide what you want,” she continued. “If you stay as you are you will be whipped around like a cloth in the breeze. Like a weave without a purpose.”

Now she was back to the wise mentor mode? First she treated him like a ragdoll and now she wanted to advise him? Philip peered at the old woman, trying to understand her. Her smile still held, but there was something else in her expression. He was unable to place it, but her eyes still gleamed like a predator. What was her goal? What kind of schemes would the Hermit Master be into?

“Why are you telling me this?” Philip had to ask.

“Because I like you, Apprentice,” She finished her cup and set it back onto the table. “Your new mentor is someone with a strong focus. To many people, a dangerous focus. If you don’t decide now you will be pulled down his path of power which could be a danger to you.”

“If everything is so dangerous and I am so weak, what am I supposed to do?” Philip was tired of the woman speaking in circles.

“You must learn how magic works,” she said, her smile growing. “More than learning how to weave the magic, you must discover the truth of magic.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I am an astrologist, Apprentice. Study the stars.”

“And how is that supposed to do anything?” Philip groaned as he set the teacup on the floor.

“To gain knowledge, child,” Rolune sniffed. “Why else do anything? Knowledge in itself is not good or evil, it is power in itself. Without that power we are no better than the beasts which we tame and kill. Why do you think they brought you here to the University?”

“Because I was born with a core.”

“Exactly,” she cried out. “You have a core! The ability to use magic. The ability to physically manifest the knowledge of the Universe, bringing forth the very fabric which holds the world together.” She touched the book she was reading earlier, her gaze distant “The stars speak to us, Apprentice. They tell us things which words cannot explain.”

“You want me to gaze at the stars?”

She shook her head, her smile finally faded back to her original expression of slight amusement.

“Not gaze, child,” she chuckled. “Study. You said you like to study and learn.”

Philip sighed. He started to guess why she was a hermit. She was alone, not because she desired, but because no student would want to deal with her. She said she sent the servants away, but was that really the case? There were stories of servants leaving and never returning and researchers not noticing for weeks. She might just be an extreme example of that.

Fine,” Philip answered, and old Master Rolune’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll ‘study’ the stars.”

“I knew I liked you, Apprentice.” She looked up at the sky. The sun was about halfway up. “You should start heading down to the administrative building. Your mentor is probably waiting for you.” She peered at the teapot and cup. “But, if you would be so kind as to clean the dishes before you leave I would be very grateful.”

Philip stumbled to his feet and gave a slight blow, just enough to be respectful. He gathered the tea set and headed back to the kitchen.

In the end, things might not be too bad. The mob is gone, Charles is hopefully not after his head, and he had some slight protection now. The old woman was also letting him leave after some basic chores, so it feels like there are not major strings attached. He glanced behind him toward the living area.

It did not feel like a trap. She just wanted him to ‘study’ the stars, right? Perhaps all she wanted as someone to teach?

But things were rarely free. What was her angle? She said she liked him, but why? Because he tried to make a fire without magic? He wanted to get stronger? There were a lot of others on campus that fit that criteria, so why him?

Philip pondered as he washed the dishes and left the Peak’s complex, but he could not find a good answer as he started down the mountain.

Rolune watched as the young man disappeared from view. She was surprised when her wards around the old cistern lift went off, and even more surprised to see it was the student the entire campus was speaking about.

The boy had been torn to shreds. Bleeding and limping, seeming to barely be holding back from passing out from exhaustion. Yet, despite his condition, his mind seemed clear. His story on how he escaped was fascinating. His core pouring out mana into a single thread which wrapped around him? She had never heard of such a thing.

And there were few things she had not heard of.

After he collapsed in her study she moved to the top of the tower and did something she had not done in years. She read the stars. The old texts said it was the way to read the movements of the gods, a way to predict the future to an extent. She scoffed at the nonsense when she was young and ignorant. But her Master was a wise woman. She had only learned how wise she was after she was gone and when she inherited her research.

Even the most nonsensical things can hold a ring of truth.

The sky was a wonder. Rolune normally just watched the galaxies flicker in the night. The stars gleamed like gems embedded in a black dome, the moons glowing with ethereal light. It was why she made the observatory her home for the past half century. But tonight, there was something new.

The stars moved. The galaxy’s color had changed, ever so slightly. The moons both glowed just a fraction more. Elin, the silver moon, seemed to sparkle while Evon, the red moon, had a pulse like a weak heart. They were small changes that she would never have noticed if she had not watched the skies all these years.

The gods were moving again.

Rolune tore through her forest of a library for the old records. The last time the Gods moved was over five centuries before, during the Heroic Millenia. They blessed a chosen few as avatars to expand their works. Wars, wonders, great civilizations, and mythical monsters roamed the land. Magic flowed through the air like water, forests growing like oceans across mountains which broke through the sky.

The world before the cataclysm. The word before the Kingdom ascended into the sky to survive the destruction brought about by destructive mistakes by the avatars. By the summoned heroes and demonic kings. The world changed forever at that time, and then the world became still.

Until now.

She doubted that the boy was the reason they started to move. But it still meant great things were going to happen. Great things, both terrible and good. A new Era was starting.

He will live through it, so he had to learn. He had to prepare. He had to harden and become a player, one of her players for the new Era. Rupert might sink his claws into the boy for now, but she planted the seed first. All that was needed was for him to tend it and grow, become strong to resist the games played by the foolish King and his toadies.

Greatness never came to someone who did not work for it. She will build him so he can become great, and by his greatness she will become immortal. Her name might not be remembered, but her works, her philosophy, and her knowledge will continue. They will become one of the foundations of this new world.

She had spent far too long in this cramped complex. Despairing of the wasteful time she lived in. Her books would be collected when she died and stored away for more idiots to poke through and debate her ‘meanings’. The fools… the meaning is exactly as they were written. No hidden messages, no games, no workplays. They were written as things are, as knowledge should be written.

The best part; the boy had ambition. Not like the others, but the raw ambition to just get stronger. No family, no politics, just the desire to grow and learn. He will become someone who won’t be trifled with as long as he was guided properly. And she planted the seed.

He will become her best player.

A smile spread across the old woman’s face. The next step was to examine this Lily girl who the boy cherishes so much. If she is as shallow as she expects, it might be best to remove the weed before it kills her seed.

Things are about to get interesting. Very interesting indeed.