He had resisted the urge to slam his head against the desk in agony. How long had he been in the academy's library surrounded by books? He had completely abandoned the novice's dormitory a few weeks ago, it would not be an exaggeration to say he lived in the library. He looked towards the little tent he had set up with tons of little packets of food he had stolen from the kitchen. He was so deep in the library that he hadn't seen anyone for a long time and the shelves were empty except for the books that were so deep in the library that they had fallen into obscurity with their titles. 'How to cook a troll' Why was that book even in the library? It was obviously never cleaned or taken from the shelves like the books that sat next to it, he had made sure never to use telekinesis or any kinetic force spells as the last time he did he created a small explosion of dust that suffocated his lungs.

"Thane you are losing your mind." He spoke to himself. Or rather the small wooden mannequin that sat on his desk surrounded by the copious amount of books and papers that cluttered the desk creating almost a sea of literature. He didn't have time to waste, his master Mage Yerinth had been searching for him. He had heard the complaints of the novices who were ordered by his master to search the library for him forcing Thane to retreat further in. That had been a day ago? At least he thought it was. Without the sun he had lost track of the time, had it been a week or merely a day? No, he had to focus on the task at hand. If his master found him he would be dragged back to the infirmary or his master's private manor on the outskirts of Vernia. If he recalled correctly Vlad was out training on the sparing fields. Despite being around Thane's age Vlad had already become a mage in his own right, although a combat one which is far simpler than a healer was still impressive in its own right. He heard that Vlad had slane a small army of ghouls attacking a village by himself which while ghouls are not hard to kill the sheer amount spoke volumes about Vlad's impressive magical stamina for his age. Vlad would no doubt put many of his fellow mages in the infirmary which he had no interest in dealing with, unlike his master.

Thane truly did appreciate his master for what he had done, not many novices that aren't from a magic family get chosen to become an apprentice but Thane knew he was different, he was better. He had a thirst that the other novices lacked and had been recognized for it. He was only twenty and yet could create bone from nothing. A very impressive accomplishment in itself as by his age even the children of mage families with the best healers could only stop bleeding. Most healing apprentices were still reading books on anatomy and learning the body and all its components.

Healing magic was extremely difficult and complex just to learn. The magic weaving alone took decades to achieve constantly. He himself was not from a magic family but he could weave magic like it was second nature, a true protege and he was not arrogant to say that. It was merely a fact. Perhaps his skill though was a curse as his master was irritating with his teachings. Not being from a magic family Thane had to accept any mage who deemed him lucky enough to be an apprentice, and while he found great interest in the body he had no interest in being a healer like his master. Why heal when you can create?

Ideally, Thane would have liked to find a mage who had specialised in animation, the magic of creating movement from inanimate objects. Unfortunately, animation was a niche subject of study even for mages. Even if he did find one he would probably have already been labelled the worst apprentice by abandoning his master. No mage would want to teach someone who had a habit of leaving their master. Thane wasn't too worried though, he couldn't learn animation but he wouldn't have to. He had learned how bone, muscles, tendons and ligaments all interact with each other from his healing studies. He didn't have any access to animation magic knowledge but he could apply his healing magic to replicate it. Although it was one thing to heal a muscle but an entirely new thing to create an invisible replication of it.

The papers that lay beneath him had been blood-soaked from the constant dripping from his nose, a sign of magic exhaustion. That and the splitting headache that felt like someone had taken an axe to it. Thane had incredible magic weaving skills but he was impatient with his learning. Once he proved capable of one spell he moved on to the next rarely practising it beyond what was necessary as he was more interested in learning more complex spell weaving. While this certainly did improve his weaving his stamina was in a poor state. He would need to rest before he continued to try to animate the wooden doll. He had studied as a healer and pushing himself would do nothing but hamper his improvement. By the end of the next week, he will have learnt to animate. Only then would he leave this vast library.

The boy awoke to Zerin shaking him vigorously. The boy awoke tiredly, he was having those annoying dreams again that weren't his own. The boy took a few seconds to recognise where he was, he was in a fairly large bedroom that had two separate desks and chairs made of fine furniture. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being taken to the dormitory wing of the massive castle by the younger boy. Zerin had insisted that the boy roomed with him and he didn't have the heart in him to tell him no.

"Can you stop trying to use magic, I'm trying to sleep but your casting keeps me up." The young boy groaned tiredly. He tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes but found little success.

"W-what?" The boy asked, he was still far too tired and not fully awake to understand what Zerin was asking of him.

"You're magic, I can feel you trying to summon it. It's annoying, quit it."

The boy held his head tiredly, a splitting headache was all he found. The tired boy pushed Zerin's hands off him as to let him sit up, the sheets of the bed still stuck to him from his sweat. He hadn't had the best night's sleep, it felt like every hour he would be awoken by the feeling of magic being cast preventing the boy from sleeping any more than in five-minute increments, it was no wonder why mages isolated themselves when they could if this was what happened every night. The beds were made of the finest silk he had ever felt and the bed cushioning was as if it had been made from clouds. Of course, after spending five minutes with Zerin he had discovered that the child had no idea how to talk to people.

"I was asleep." The boy grumbled. "Besides I've been here the whole of a day, how the hell would I be able to cast magic."

"I-I-I don't know!" Zerin's cheeks turned red and his voice loud. The boy had been physically pushed back by the sudden shock of volume. "You just were I could feel it!"

"Are you sure it wasn't another mage? I can feel magic being cast right now. I'm sure it was just one of them, leave me alone and go back to sleep."

"I felt it from you." He grumbled, but the boy merely rolled his eyes and through the soft covers over himself making it clear that the conversation was over. Zerin obviously wasn't happy about it letting out an audible huff at the boy but he still made his way back to his bed.

He knew he shouldn't be so rude to the boy, he had willingly offered his room to him and had even found or more likely stolen them if the grin on his face was any indication. He would apologise to the boy in the morning if he remembered, so far Zerin was the only friend he had ever had that was a fellow male. All the other servants at the Ossege manor were female, maybe this was just how male friends were? He didn't know but he'd try to do better. All he needed was some sleep. Shutting his eyes he let the darkness wash over him. All he needed was sleep.

"Horse shit!"

The robe he wore danced furiously around his legs as he stomped his way down the hallways of the castle. All he wanted was to sleep but every five seconds it seemed that magic had to jump around the castle like a bastard mouse on drugs. He didn't know where he was heading or what he was going to do, all he knew was that if he saw anyone cast any magic he was going to shatter their nose into a fountain of blood. It was a miracle that Zerin could sleep through it, it was as if someone was poking him every so often with a stick. If he ever found that person who was poking him with the stick, he would stab them over and over again with it. All he could do was angrily walk the candlelit halls of the castle that was too large for its own good. At some point surely the architects must have thought, 'hey, maybe there are too many rooms?' But apparently not.

He didn't know how long he had wandered the halls, it could have been morning by now but he was too deep in the castle for windows to show the light of day. Although it could have been two minutes as well, there was no concept of time so deep within the walls. It was just him and the sound of his own steps echoing in the vast castle. At least the clothing was a nice change. The robes were the finest he had ever worn and the shoes despite not being his own or fitting completely well still were better than his old shoes that bit into his toes. Yet despite the warm bed and clothing, he was still plagued by nightmares. Worse they were getting more frequent. Two nightmares in two nights was a first which was worrying. How long till his nightmares no longer affected him in his sleep and started affecting him during his waking hours.

The boy was so distracted by his thoughts he didn't realise in his wondering of the academy that the marble walls of the castle started to be replaced by wood and books. This wasn't the first time he had been here yet the taste of the stale air was one he hadn't experienced before. The library... the same place he had seen in his nightmare, although not the same. The library near the entrance was near impeccable, with not a single bit of dust to be seen and all books were in impeccable condition and filled the bookshelves, unlike the empty ones that he saw in his dreams. The boy understood how one could hide for days in here, he could see a stairwell to the upper levels also containing shelves of books that reached up into the roof.

Why was he here? Was it the muscle memory of his dreams? No, his dreams had never had that much effect on him so much, it had to be a coincidence. Not surprising as the size of it probably took up most of a castle. It was just a coincidence, that's all. Nothing more.

The boy couldn't help being drawn in like a moth to a flame, every step felt familiar, like he had done it a thousand times before. It must have been because of the Ossege's private library that the boy often found himself exploring himself. Yet it paled in comparison to the maze of books he explored now. Even so late at night he walked through the maze every so often finding a little empty space where four desks would lie. It was only after a minute or so of wondering he felt that annoying pull that had kept him up all night. Following that pull through the lefts and rights of the mazed library he wounded up at another one of those desk spaces that dotted over the library except this one wasn't empty.

A girl in robes that were instead made of fine cloth was instead made of black leather that tightly hugged her body. It looked like armour then it did a robe. This new mage looked around his age but he knew that looks were deceptive when it came to magic. Her hair was long and blonde if honestly slightly messy with split ends showing up every so often. The girl must not have slept for quite some time as not only was her hair messy but her dark blue eyes seemed duller than they would be as if trying to keep the bags that hung under her eyes from had drained her of all semblance of life. Just above her left eye was a small scar that separated her left brow. She looked half-dead though. She looked just as he did in his dreams, surrounded by papers and drowning in books but not actually learning anything, all he had was that phantom pain of a shitty week that wasn't even his own.

"Are you okay?"

"Leave me alone." She hissed venomously. Okay, poor start he will admit but he had dealt with Lady Ossege while she was busy wrestling a bottle of wine in the fight for her life, he could deal with one sleep-deprived mage.

"I would be inclined but I'm not sure about how the law works in the academies and if leaving a person to drown in paper counts as manslaughter." She merely glared at the boy, her eyes were red and sore as if she had been staring at the sun all day.

"No, but killing a person who annoys you still counts as murder." The way her tired eyes targeted his throat let him assume that was rather a threat than a helpful fact.

"And what's your name little miss happy?"

"None of your business. What's yours, It is pain in the ass?" The fake ignorance on her face annoyed him to no end.

"What a coincidence it's none of your business either."

"Okay Mr Anonymous, we can call you Anon for short." He glared at the girl. He had no name but he'd be damned if he let a girl tell him his. Only the Ossege could name him and he'd be damned if this annoying girl would have any right to take that right.

"Well aren't you just a ball of sunshine."

"Well aren't you just a waste of time."

The boy bit his tongue, shit he didn't have a response to that. He was more used to having insults thrown his way by nobles and just standing there and taking it. Was this his first real argument? No, it couldn't have been? Could it? The boy tried to shake his head out of that slightly sad thought out of his head, surely he wasn't so pathetic. Rather he focused on the books that the girl was reading, honestly, he was expecting books of magic or something of research like the man in his dreams. Rather the girls had stacks upon stacks of famous historical marriages and law books, was love magic a thing? If so love magic was something that he wanted no part in.

The girl groaned angrily swinging her arm back away from her ready to be thrown into the nearest shelf. Instead of the book going flying the book in her hand rather was suddenly covered in flames that turned the yellowish pages black. It seems that the world would never see the book 'Aleina and Harris' love affair that would last forever. Ironic. From the ashes on the ground, it was clear this wasn't the first book to suffer her wrath.

"Well, clearly you seem fine I'm just going to go."

"That would be best."

"Before I go though, is there an alchemist in the castle. I would kill for some elixir of sleep, and that's not an exaggeration, I considered killing my roommate only thirty minutes ago. The better question is how much, is it cheap? I am broke and willing to clean even those monster cages in the basement to not deal with feeling every single magic spell in this stupid castle."

The girl raised a brow at the boy, puzzled at his words. "There is an alchemist but his little shop probably isn't open right now. Your magic sense is keeping you up? Are you the insanely old novice that everyone is talking about? The oldest novice that had been taken in I've seen is around four years old. How did you manage to avoid the discovery for so long?" Insanely old is a harsh way to put it! He was only sixteen.

"I personally wouldn't phrase it like that."

"So you are then. Can you even read?"

"Of course, I can read!" His cheeks burned angrily. "Can you? Last time I checked people who could read didn't need to burn books just cause they didn't understand what was written." The boy couldn't help the smirk on his face form when she saw those bloodshot eyes of hers try to kill him.

"I understand." She spat venomously. "Yet all these books are useless, funny, you are starting to remind me a lot of them. Just less on fire. I'm happy to change that though." To prove her point she let flames dance just slightly above her fingertips. She wouldn't really burn him though? Would she?

"Oh come on. I'm not useless, I was quite the-" He paused, he didn't want to say servant, it seemed embarrassing, he was already so much less than the mages. Even Zerin as hyperactive and annoying as he was knew more about magic than he did. "The little assistant back at my old home."

"I'm sure your mummy and daddy were very proud of you."

The boy pouted at her. He never had any parent but Master and Lady Ossege had been the closest he'd ever had. He wondered if they missed him or if they even cared too busy grieving the loss of a second child to the mages. Would he ever see them again? Zerin had told him that novices when growing up that they weren't allowed to know their parent's identities to prevent bias and having a mage show favouritism to one noble family. But he knew his family, they couldn't really do much to stop that.

"Am I allowed to see my family? I thought mages weren't allowed, families."

"They are, families are highly promoted. Just only mage families. The chance of two mages having a magical child is around eighty per cent, which is significantly higher than the extremely low chance of non-blessed parents. Magical families are very good, parents usually teach their children magic assuring they have a future in magic, also parents don't really fall under the apprentice rule where only one mage can only have one apprentice, they can pass on their knowledge and strengthen their family more effectively with more apprentices."

"I thought the whole, 'no parents' rule was supposed to prevent bias. I see plenty of novices without masters." Zerin came to mind, the boy seemed so happy at the thought of no longer being a novice. Yet if all mages just had kids and trained them, what would happen to those without children.

"The bias is to prevent families outside of the order from showing bias. A noble family with a mage on their side could manipulate the mage for power for stronger political power. The mage families are all under the Golden Crown which is outside of all political issues, therefore, making it okay. Of course, it's not fair to those not being in mage families as they lack knowledge, wealth and even a family name, but that's life. It's not fair, nothing about being in a mage family is." Those two mages in the nursery shared a last name, probably a family master and apprentice. That would explain why all the novices lacked last names and created their own.

"You seem to know a lot about it."

"Why do you think genius?"

"If you are part of a mage family then why are you here in the library all by your lonesome looking at," He picked up the nearest book atop the pile of scattered pages giving it a curious look. "The law book of Vernia?"

"That's none of your business!" She hissed snatching the book from his hand. She moved quick like a viper, faster than he would expect of the mages who researched their whole lives to be capable.

"Clearly." He murmured under his breath. "Is there a reason why you are looking up the law? Does this have something to do with a truth spell, that was a weird feeling?"

"Not everything mages study is about magic. Also magic doesn't work like that, you can't cast spells researching concepts like justice. You really have no idea how it works, do you? Truth spells have something to do with the brain, something that I have no interest in learning." The girl reached into a satchel that sat next to her chair picking out a book that looked more like a journal than a proper book. It was old and weathered but could still clearly work and had bookmarks and notes jutting out of it. Turning to the first few pages she ripped out a couple of pages letting the sound of ripping paper echo through the walls of the library. He cringed at the sound of even more books being destroyed.

"Here, most novices spend the first years of their life building up magic stamina and weaving but this is the first spell most people learn." The paper was hand-written and detailed a spell called 'repulse'. Just skimming the papers he found that it mostly talked about something called kinetic force and how to expel it.

"The spell is quick, simple and doesn't cause too much fatigue if cast, although keeping it up can drain a person. It's the spell that mages full-on default to protect themselves, doesn't matter if it's a sword or fire with enough force it can be pushed aside. It has several different names, some call it push others, repulse. It doesn't matter the name, some people like to call out its name or say a cast but that's only because magic weaving seems to be easier to cast when an association is built with it. This can be done with either words or hand movements. If you get good enough you can use any spell with a flick of the wrist but I generally just use hand gestures for my magic. A full sentence of words can take too long in combat so chants are usually for spells that aren't for combat. Hand gestures also take some time but by the time they get close enough to grab my wrists, they will already be on fire. Repulse is just one of those spells all mages can use with a flick of the wrist. I'll warn you though, that it'll take a long time before you can even generate enough force to even replicate a punch. With you're stamina I doubt you could cast it more than once a day making improving spell weaving impossible but hey, it's a start."

"Thank you." He meant those words. Was this the first gift he had ever received besides from the Ossege. He supposed not as Zerin seemed more than happy to somehow appear with all sorts of items that novices had like his robes from mysterious sources. He had a feeling that some novices are going to be lacking some robes. "If you need anything don't be afraid to ask."

"Anything?"

"Yes." He answered, a little nervous at her tone.

"Leave me alone."