They’ve barely taken a step inside Archie's domain before Tobias's mentor to call out to him. “Tobias!” His voice ripples across the room and into the corridor where Lir stands, with both his arms stiffening by his sides. “I did not think you, out of all my pupils, would be the one to bring trouble straight to my door one day.”

Tobias remains silent. He urges Lir to follow him in with a discreet motion of his hand. They make it to the inside of the hallway. The entrance creaks shut, and the air from the outside world that had once fluttered pages of many a book aligned on tables around them dissipates.

Lir wonders if the sound of a lock clicking into place on its own is a figment of his imagination. Though he barely has time to dwell on the question, for Archie speaks again soon after. “You’re aware of the dangers when it comes to housing a Halloran, yes?” His back is still turned to them both, his figure still squeezed between two bookshelves, that sit atop a spiralling, pristine-white marble staircase.

“Of course, I am, master.” Tobias bows for the elderly man even though, Lir assumes, Archie cannot see it. “I am not clumsy enough to forget your teachings.”

“And you are ready to face the consequences of your wrongdoing, then, should they come knocking?”

Lir observes them, petrified, as his own mentor nods. The man Tobias had painted with his words during their travels and the one they are now faced with seem like two entirely different people. Archie does not seem like the accepting kind, and Lir wonders if he should not bolt towards the door that may or may not be locked, apologise for the mistake of his existence, then somehow leave this strange city with even stranger folk behind. However, then, Tobias's mentor speaks again. “It's great to have you back, Tobias.” And Lir can hear the smile in his voice—the way it has shifted from something all too serious and sturdy, to a tone one would use to greet an old friend.

Tobias walks forth, past the multiple bookshelves, the smell of dust, and Lir finds himself enthralled in the rhythm of the conversation, forced to do the same.

The elderly man turns to face them. His features are doused in relief. He scratches his elongated beard, whose color matches his bushy, greying hair.

Relief floods Lir's heart. In this light, Archie does not seem like the unkind type anymore. In fact, if Lir cares to look close enough, it is easy to find a certain resemblance between Tobias and him; this immediately puts Lir at ease. “It seems you've had a long journey, young man.” Archie grins. The almost-clear, cobalt blue that swims in his eyes like milky water meets with Lir’s saffron glow, that has seized his gaze.

“The journey isn't over,” Lir says, for it is true—this is only the beginning. They have yet to figure out a way to turn him back. And if they don’t, he'll have to find a way to leave this place and Tobias should things go sour. It's only the beginning, and lately, Lir has been wondering if it will ever end.

Archie places two hands against his belly. He laughs. He points at Tobias, in a playful way, like children do. “I see you've found yourself quite the impatient pupil!”

Tobias's hands find the belt, made up of thick dark cloth, tied around his waist. “And I see you've replaced me,” he tells Archie with a raised brow and a cock of his head, as he peers past Lir's shoulder, to where a young woman with braided, brunette hair, peeks out at the scene of them talking, full of shy intent as she hides behind another bookshelf, three feet away.

“Ah, you mean Oline!” Archie's face lights up. Lir seriously starts to doubt if he might not be younger than his body leads the naked eye to believe—cursed, perhaps, from an experiment gone wrong? “Well,” he huffs, and wipes his robe of dust. “Can you blame me? It was getting so dull out here without you!”

The young woman retreats back into the library. A sigh escapes Tobias's lips. He shakes his head, then presses a palm to his brow. “I just hope you're not putting her through hell and back, as you did for me.”

There is a laugh. Archie slaps his ex-pupil on the back. “Nonsense!” he exclaims. “You were a special case!” He turns back towards Lir. As his thumb and forefinger come to rest against the trail of his beard, he hums. “So, I suppose you have some work for me? It's rare for you to visit, especially with a... guest,” the word sits on his tongue like venom.

“Y-yes, actually...” Tobias hooks a palm around his neck and nods. A silent apology, Lir thinks. “We were wondering if you could turn him back.”

“Turn him back?” The old magus scoffs. “Tobias, this is absolutely preposterous! Have you lost your mind?”

Tobias's fingers shake, and come dangerously close to curling into fists as his arm drops back down to his side. “Master, surely even you can—”

“No.” Archie's tone wilts into a stern one yet again. He turns his back on them, then strolls into the pathway created by recently dusted shelves who still smell of the lemon products, that have been used to cleanse them. “I will not turn you away. You may rest here for as long as you wish, but,” he shakes his head, ”under no circumstances will I turn him back.”

Tobias steps forth and parts his lips to speak, however, Lir beats him to it. “Because you don't want to?” he asks. “Or because you can't?” They didn't come all this way for nothing. Lir was not chased for days on end by an anonymous creature only to be met with more mysteries. He has the right to know.

A lull of silence instils itself between them. Until, finally, Archie shoulders drop with a huff. He glances at Lir from over his shoulder. It is brief, curt, yet enough for Lir to understand there is honesty in what he is about to say. “I cannot,” the old man tells him. “And even if I could”—his glare darkens—“I would not.”