6
The look on her face was priceless.
"What do you think, Baki? Bet she's still fuming about it," Magnus said, grinning as he sat on his bed beside his packed suitcase.
His pet rat, Baki, twitched his nose in reply from inside his cage. Magnus had taken extra care to stock it with food and several water dispensers to keep the chubby rodent well-fed and hydrated during his short trip. He'd even enlisted a friend to rat-sit—just in case.
The train was scheduled to arrive at 7:00 a.m. sharp. A glance at his watch told him it was 6:15. Time to get moving.
After their group had split up and returned to their respective quarters on the academy grounds, Magnus had gone home to pack. They were fortunate enough to have the next few days off—thanks to the blessed trifecta of a weekend and a follow-up campus-wide teacher meeting.
The walk to the station was short, just fifteen minutes or so. The local rail line connected various districts of the academy campus and stretched all the way out to the countryside. Their destination: Lucios, the capital city of Cygnus. There, they'd head straight to the library Magnus had mentioned he had seen the book from—where he, in his mind, would heroically save the day by finding the book they were after.
"Wow, Magnus, you're so cool and handsome. We never could've done this without you," he recited to himself, imagining the girls' praise.
Would they ever say that? Most definitely not.
But a boy could dream. He snickered to himself, it wouldn't hurt if they did, though.
Upon arriving at the station, he quickly purchased his ticket and made his way past the small building and onto the terminal. A series of wooden benches and polished beams supported a freshly painted roof that shaded the platform.
To his far right, he spotted Piper and Adastreia.
Piper was lounging on the concrete floor, leaning against one of the pillars, while Adastreia sat on a bench a few feet away. Piper held a sleek black and emerald-green guitar in her lap, idly strumming a light, airy melody. Her sunglasses caught the early morning sun, scattering dancing rays of light across the ground and onto the ceiling above them.
Magnus's steps slowed.
His ears twitched. He could swear he heard more than just the guitar—faint notes, layers of sound like hidden instruments weaving through the air. But he couldn't pinpoint the direction they came from. Were they real? Or part of his imagination?
He glanced at Adastreia. Even she seemed caught in the music, her pen frozen mid-thought.
Then Piper looked up. Despite the tinted lenses, he knew her gaze met his. She smirked, playful and knowing, then played her final notes. The ending sent a chill down his spine, as if the whole melody had been crafted to perfectly suit his tastes.
Adastreia gave a slow, almost reluctant clap. Piper responded with an exaggerated bow from her makeshift stage on the floor.
Magnus blinked and shook himself back into focus.
He'd heard of Piper before their recent meeting—mostly whispers from other students and some online buzz. Her music was making waves among the students, and she'd been gaining a growing fan base. Apparently, she played gigs in the seedier corners of the capital and less grand cities with a small band.
The only other member Magnus could recall by name was Raijin—their drummer. His reputation, however, extended far beyond the band. People said his playing echoed like the rumble of a storm, raw and thunderous, and there were even stories of his drum solos rattling windows during a school assembly. But it wasn't just his music that made him stand out. Raijin was also known as a skilled mage, powerful enough that Augustus—their sister school—frequently tried to recruit him for joint training programs and the like.
Magnus had never spoken to him, but even he had heard the name tossed around in more than once.
With a lineup like that behind her, it was no wonder Piper's popularity was starting to skyrocket.
"That was pretty good, I must say. Almost as good as me," Magnus quipped, arms crossed with a smirk.
Adastreia snorted in amusement, and Piper raised an eyebrow, her expression all playful challenge.
"Really? Here, by all means—show us," she said, extending the guitar toward him.
Magnus's confident smirk faltered as his face turned a noticeable shade of red. He raised his hands defensively, backpedaling.
"No, no—wouldn't want to show off. It's beneath me," he said, sidestepping the offered instrument like it were cursed.
Piper laughed and pulled the guitar back, clearly pleased with herself. Magnus, meanwhile, avoided Adastreia's gaze. He could feel the weight of her silent judgment, like invisible daggers poking the back of his neck. And though he couldn't read minds, he was almost certain Adastreia was starting to enjoy Piper's company far more than she let on, certainly more than his at the least.
The trio settled into a comfortable silence as they waited for the train. Conversation dwindled—if it ever really started. They were all still half-asleep, and Piper's soft guitar melodies only deepened the early morning calm.
The sunlight warmed Magnus's back, and before he knew it, his eyelids began to drift shut. The peace of the moment lulled him into a light doze. Unfortunately, he'd failed to keep one crucial detail in mind—the train was due any minute.
Just as his eyes had fully closed, the sharp, echoing whistle of the approaching steam engine pierced the quiet. Magnus jolted upright, startled and disoriented, whipping his head around in a panic.
The massive steam train screeched to a halt in front of them, its passenger cars rolling in with mechanical grace before the doors slid open one by one.
"That's our ride," Piper announced, hoisting her bags as she stood.
"Which car was ours again?" she asked over her shoulder.
Adastreia fished a small white ticket from her coat pocket, glanced at it, and replied matter-of-factually, "Coach three."
Magnus too hoisted his bags and raised himself from the floor. He looked over at Piper and Adastreia, then it struck him; Piper's guitar had vanished. He was about to say something about the instruments disappearance but before the words could leave his mouth his shoulder collided into the body of a passerby. Magnus lost his balance and made impact with one of the wooden beams.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" he snapped, spinning around to confront whoever he'd run into.
He was greeted by a tall boy with wispy golden blonde hair and eyes the shade of hazel that could almost be mistaken for antique gold in the brilliant sunlight. He wore glasses that were now askew due to their knock against one another, and he wore a crisp blue blazer with an.. Augustus woven seal on the upper left of the chest section.
Magnus's stomach sank.
The Augustus School of Might. Their sister institution, based in the neighboring empire. What was someone from there doing here?
The boy calmly adjusted his glasses, his expression steeped in annoyance and disdain. "I suggest you mind your tongue," he said coldly, "lest you find yourself parted from it."
His voice was smooth and razor-sharp, like tempered steel. In the back of his mind he instinctively thought of Adastreia's voice. One from somebody who lived in a completely different world than his own.
Still, even under the weight of the stranger's presence, Magnus didn't back down. He squared his shoulders, dropped his bags to the ground, and met the golden-eyed stare head-on.
"I suggest you make me," he shot back. Emphasizing his disdain by mimicking the blonde boy's tone.
The air shifted.
The wooden beams around them groaned, and even the train at the platform seemed to tremble, as if some unseen force had been stirred by the tension.
The stranger didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a soft, amused chuckle, as though the idea of a fight was almost charming. "Of course, of course. It would be rude not to indulge such a request. Very well then, my loutish friend."
He stepped back and gave a formal bow.
"I, Cassius Au Augustus, heir of the Augustus School of Might and its founding lineage, accept your challenge."
Behind him, a faint golden glow flared, like the sun itself had turned its gaze toward him. Magnus squinted, but the light was too strong, too focused. It was as if Cassius summoned the attention of the heavens. Even his name sounded like he was born to be a pain in the ass.
Lineage? Wait—no way. Shit.
Magnus's heart dropped.
I just challenged a direct descendant of one of the founding families. What the hell is wrong with me?
Behind him, Adastreia drew in a sharp breath—she clearly knew exactly who they had just slammed into. Piper, on the other hand, seemed blissfully unaware. She leaned closer to Adastreia, curiosity in her voice.
"Yo, Ada. Who's that?"
"Don't call me Ada," Adastreia muttered before sighing. "Wait—you don't know? That's Cassius. As in Cassius Au Augustus. He's literally descended from one of the founders of our schools."
Piper furrowed her brow, placing a finger thoughtfully on her lips. "Yeah… no. Never heard of him."
Cassius's attention suddenly shifted. His gaze swept past Magnus, catching a piece of their conversation. His voice followed, sharp with disbelief.
"Ada? Adastreia Blackwood? No… it couldn't be."
His antique golden eyes locked onto Adastreia, narrowing with recognition. She met his stare with a scowl of pure scarlet disdain.
Standing between the two of them, Magnus suddenly felt like an ant caught beneath a magnifying glass—blistering under two suns.
"Cassius," Adastreia said coolly. "Can't say I expected to see you here."
"I could say the same," he replied, his gaze sweeping over her before landing squarely on Magnus. "I never imagined someone of your status consorting with the rabble."
Magnus bristled, but didn't move.
"The company I choose to bless with my time is none of your concern," Adastreia shot back, her tone sharp.
Cassius's expression brightened at the retort. He looked almost pleased—though Magnus couldn't shake the feeling that his mood could sour with the snap of a finger. The newcomer pushed up his glasses with a finger, simotaniosuloy reflecting the shining golden light and perhaps not inadvertently causing Magnus to squint his eyes to avoid being blinded.
"Of course not," Cassius said, the civility in his voice slipping into a sneer. "Still, I'd recommend keeping your pet on a tighter leash. Wouldn't want him nipping at ankles while out for a walk."
Magnus's fists clenched, the metal beams around them began to groan and bend. Just as he was about to lash out and give this jerk what was coming to him, the train whistle cut through the tension, echoing across the platform with a sharp finality. Departure was imminent.
Cassius glanced toward the train, then back at Magnus. "It seems we'll have to finish this another time. I can afford to wait. Your train, however, doesn't look like it can say the same."
Magnus opened his mouth, ready to say to hell with the train—and with the trip—but something stopped him. A soft, lilting melody drifted into his ears. Gentle vibrations, like a lullaby woven from the air around them, melted the tension in his shoulders. Confused, he blinked—and found Piper at his side.
Without a word, her fingers slipped around his clenched fist, warm and grounding. Before he knew it, she was leading him onto the train. He resisted, heart still burning with the desire to put Cassius in the dirt, but his limbs didn't seem to agree. His thoughts turned to static.
Somehow, he found himself seated in the cabin.
Through the window, Cassius stood with a smug smile, giving him a polite little wave as he turned and strode off.
'No no I can't be in here, I gotta give that asshat a piece of my mind." he thought to himself. Magnus wasn't sure if he'd thought it or spoken it aloud—maybe both. He started to rise, his body fighting the weight pressing him into the bench.
Then it returned. The melody.
The same haunting tune flowed back into his ears—fluid, hypnotic, and ancient. It wrapped around his mind like a spell, leading his thoughts down winding corridors until everything else faded.
He slumped back into the seat, dazed.
Across from him, Piper sat calmly, her emerald eyes locked onto his. Between her lips rested a small wooden double flute, no larger than her hand. The sound it produced was less like music and more like an enchantment—an invisible tether pulling him away from anger, from clarity, from everything except this moment.
The enchanting whisper of the small instrument traveled through his mind, leading his consciousness through the maze of notes until he found himself lost in their embrace, even the whistle and chugging of the train was no more than a distant hum that only seemed to form into part of the harmony.
———————————————————————————————————————
7
Magnus Carlisle awoke to the steady rumble of the train. The rhythmic chugging threatened to lull him back to sleep, but he forced himself upright, shaking off the lingering pull of rest.
To his left, their group's luggage was neatly stacked; to his right, the window he'd been slumped against moments ago, fogged slightly from his breath. Across the cabin sat Piper and Adastreia, both engrossed in their own distractions. Piper mirrored the posture Magnus had just abandoned—head resting against the glass, earbuds firmly in place, her sunglasses hiding any indication of awareness.
Adastreia, by contrast, was scribbling strange symbols onto a piece of parchment. Magnus watched her hand move in practiced strokes, drawing runes he vaguely recognized but couldn't decipher. Rune magic wasn't his area of expertise—far from it. But Adastreia's reputation preceded her. If he remembered correctly, her mother was considered unrivaled when it came to rune magic. It made sense that the daughter had inherited the talent.
Rune magic was just one of many specializations taught at Cygnus Academy. Highly sought after for its versatility, it allowed practitioners to summon elemental forces regardless of natural affinity—fire, water, air, and more—all through the use of ancient words and inscriptions. The only true limitations were a user's imagination and literary knowledge. And even without this boon, Adastreia was already intimidating.
I really need to stop pissing off these royal jerks… Magnus thought, brushing back the hair matted to his face from sleep.
A thought surfaced, and he decided to voice it aloud.
"Hey, Piper."
No response. Whether she ignored him or simply didn't hear was unclear—her sunglasses made it impossible to tell. He waved lazily to get her attention.
"Pipeerrr."
Still nothing. Though he did earn a raised eyebrow from Adastreia, who glanced up briefly before returning to her runes. Magnus gave her a hopeful look and gestured toward Piper, silently asking for help. Adastreia rolled her eyes and went back to her parchment without a word.
"Fine, I'll do it myself," he muttered.
He extended his leg and lightly tapped Piper's.
Her head snapped toward him, expression unreadable behind her glasses, and she returned the kick—far less gently. Magnus recoiled just in time to avoid a painful impact from the metal studs on her leather boots.
"Jeez, I only wanted to ask something. No need to try and shatter my shin," he grumbled.
Piper removed a single earbud. "Yeah? What's up?"
"I noticed something back at the station," Magnus began, he thought about mentioning her attack to his shin's but thought better of it. "You had your guitar out for a bit, but then it disappeared. Later, when I ran into that dirt bag Cassie or whatever, you were holding a different instrument—some kind of mini flute. What's that about?"
He suspected magic, of course. He just wasn't sure what kind.
The girl nodded, clearly understanding his confusion. Without a word, she reached down toward the cabin floor, her fingers brushing against seemingly empty air. As she lifted her hand, a green guitar shimmered into existence—faint and translucent at first, then solidifying fully as she raised it. By the time her hand reached her lap, the instrument was entirely real, resting across her legs.
Magnus's eyes lit up at the sight.
"It's my specialization. A unique one, to be specific," Piper said with a grin, casually strumming a few bright chords. "I can summon any instrument I own."
Magnus nodded along, intrigued. "But that's not all, right? When you played that guitar, it sounded like more than one instrument. And when you used that flute… I passed out."
"Mhm," Piper hummed in affirmation. "Depending on the song—or the type of music—I can use sound to affect those around me. I can make someone feel ridiculously happy, or like they just ran a marathon after chugging warm milk." She tapped a finger to her temple. "It all depends on what I come up with up here."
Magnus was captivated. The ability was unlike anything he'd heard of—powerful, creative, and wildly original. Even Adastreia had slowed her writing, the rhythmic scratching of her pen noticeably quieter during Piper's explanation.
"You have to teach me how to do that," Magnus blurted out, practically bouncing in his seat. "I wanna rock and roll with magic!"
Piper tilted her head, considering the idea with a mischievous smirk. If he could learn this kind of magic, Magnus was certain he'd become the most popular student at Cygnus.
Unfortunately, his hopes were about to be crushed.
"That's impossible, you dolt. Didn't you hear her?" Adastreia finally looked up from her paper, her sharp tone slicing through his dreams.
"What do you mean?" Magnus blinked, not yet putting the pieces together. Even Piper looked confused, turning her gaze to Adastreia for clarification.
The redhead sighed, clearly exasperated. "She said 'unique specialization.'"
Magnus stared blankly.
Adastreia pinched the bridge of her nose, then straightened up to explain as if she were addressing a classroom. "Do I have to spell everything out? A unique specialization means it's exclusive—usable only by the individual it was gifted to. Hence the term 'Unique'. It can't be taught or obtained. It's not like the standard specializations we learn at school."
"You sound like one of the professors," Magnus muttered.
She shot him a warning glare, raising a single finger. He immediately clamped his mouth shut.
"So no," she concluded, returning to her papers. "No matter how badly you want to, you cannot learn her magic."
Magnus slumped back into his seat, defeated.
She has to take some sort of joy in ruining people's moods, he thought grimly.
Piper must have noticed the disappointment on Magnus's face, because she spoke up just as Adastreia returned to her writing.
"Well, if you ever learn to play an instrument, you're welcome to join my band," she said with a grin. "I could always teach you bass or something."
Magnus considered it. The idea didn't sound half bad.
"Well, if you're the best the band has to offer," he said with a teasing smirk, "then how could I possibly refuse my services?"
Piper gasped dramatically and kicked his leg—though this time, it was clear she'd gone easy on him. Adastreia rolled her eyes but chose to stay out of it.
Without warning, Piper stood and slid off the bench beside Adastreia. With one smooth motion, she plopped down next to Magnus and held out an earbud.
"Quick, quick—check this out!" she said excitedly.
Magnus blinked at the sudden shift but took the earbud cautiously, fitting it into his ear.
For the rest of the ride, he found himself sharing music with Piper, listening to her excited commentary about her different songs and performances. She was unusually chatty—especially for someone who had seemed so reserved moments earlier—and Magnus found himself oddly enjoying it.
———————————————————————————————————————
8
After several hours of travel, the train carrying Magnus, Adastreia, and Piper finally rolled to a halt. Unlike the modest outpost they'd departed from, this station was clearly a product of wealth and deliberate investment. As the train pulled in, Magnus leaned toward the window and stared in awe at the towering building beside the platform. Constructed from deep red brick and accented with gleaming glass panes nearly the size of an entire train car, the station exuded prestige. Even the metal railings dividing the platforms were a lustrous gold hue—newly polished, perhaps even freshly installed.
Despite the approaching dusk, the station remained lively. The last rays of sunlight poured through the glass ceiling and spilled across the docks, bathing the students in warm light as they stepped off the train.
Magnus was spellbound by the city that stretched out around them. The surrounding buildings weren't towering skyscrapers, but they still dwarfed the ones in the quieter, suburban area where he'd grown up. His parents had brought him to Lucios—the capital of Cygnus—on business trips before, but the city's splendor never failed to captivate him.
Piper appeared equally awed by the scenery. He often forgot she didn't come from one of the old-money families like many of their classmates. On the train, she'd mentioned performing in the slums where she was raised. Compared to her, Magnus's middle-class upbringing probably seemed luxurious. And Adastreia? He couldn't even begin to imagine how Piper viewed her.
His gaze drifted to the redhead, who stood near the platform edge, utterly unfazed by their surroundings. Of course, Magnus thought. She's probably been here dozens of times, maybe more. She's likely seen places I can't even imagine—districts of nobles, politicians, and even members of the Council.
A part of him wondered if he'd ever set foot in those circles himself.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by Adastreia who stopped them once they had exited the train station and had made their way onto a main road.
"So, where's this library that's supposed to have all the answers?" Adastreia asked, her tone edged with impatience. "The sooner we find the rest of this book, the sooner we might have a shot at grabbing an artifact."
Magnus bristled at her demanding tone but decided to let it slide. "If I'm remembering right, it should be about a ten-minute walk from here." He pointed northeast from where they stood on the sidewalk. "My parents and I used to come here all the time from the same train station we just arrived at. It's where I'd pick up my books for each semester."
The group fell into step behind Magnus as he led the way.
"So you just happened to stumble on the exact book we'd need years later?" Adastreia asked skeptically.
"Well, sort of. While me and my parents were getting supplies for the semester I grabbed one of the books on the front desk with a shiny looking cover and trying to pass it off as one of the math modules. Though between you and me I wouldn't have minded leaving my math book, my scores in math are abysmal anyway-"
Magnus was cut off by a sharp glance from Adastreia.
"Right back to the story, when my mom found out I 'forgot' my math guide and she was livid and promptly took all of us back to the store to return it. Honestly she was far more annoyed than Mr.Gold was. He just said, 'Accidents always happen,' and offered to hold onto it in case I ever came back, since I seemed to like it so much."
"Is Mr.Gold the librarian?" This time it was Piper who chimed in much to Magnus's surprise, he had figured she had been focusing her attention towards her music.
"Yeah, he is. I think the name comes from his eyes," Magnus said, glancing up at the sky for a moment before turning back to the girls. "I always asked him if his last name was actually Gold or if people just called him that because of his eye color. He never gave me a straight answer—just smiled and said, 'Yes.'"
"That's lovely, Magnus. Truly." Adastreia cut in flatly. "If you're going to talk my ear off, at least make it meaningful. I have less than zero interest in your personal history."
Piper gasped dramatically. "Oooooo" she said, grinning as the tension was sparked in the air. Well aware of what transpired last time these two butted heads.Magnus opened his mouth, ready to volley back a snarky reply, but Adastreia had already turned on her heel and started walking.
"Come on. We're wasting daylight," she called over her shoulder, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear like she hadn't just insulted him.
Magnus sighed and sped up to continue leading, Piper trailing beside him with a barely-suppressed grin. The city around them began to shift the deeper they walked—less polished storefronts, more worn cobblestone and narrow streets, the kind of area that felt forgotten by the glamour of the capital.
Eventually, Magnus stopped in front of a squat, two-story building tucked between a shuttered café and a small postal office. The brick walls were faded, the windows fogged from age, and a crooked wooden sign with bronze letters above the door simply read: "The Archive."
Piper tilted her head. "This is it?"
"Yup," Magnus said, a little too proudly for the state of the place. "Welcome to the least impressive-looking goldmine you'll ever see."
"It looks like a thrift shop," Piper muttered, squinting at the door.
Adastreia stepped up beside them, arms crossed. "Charming. Are you sure this is the place?"
Magnus grinned. "Don't let the looks fool you. It's small, but this place has held onto books even Cygnus and Augustus forgot existed. Mr. Gold—he's the librarian— probably knows more about magic history than half the professors at our school. He used to let me hang around when I was a visiting and my parent's were doing boring adult errands."
"Looks like something out of an old postcard," Piper said as Magnus led them inward, the chime of a small bell could be heard as they entered.
The interior was warm and quiet—wooden floors, a few cozy chairs tucked between overflowing bookshelves, and that distinct scent of parchment, ink, and time. It was humble. Peaceful. Just as he remembered it.