Nikoletta stared at the closed door a long time after Argrave had left. Her mind was disturbed by a thousand thoughts. She had not interacted with her cousin much at all. He was the bastard of the royal family, and she the sole daughter of the Duke of Monticci. Even if they were both in the Order of the Gray Owl, there had been little occasion for them to interact. The only situation she recalled was three years ago when she was seventeen.

That said, he was nothing like she remembered.

Previously, he had been a reticent and awkward teenager. Though he had the same tall, skinny body that made one question if he was starving himself, his actions now had a neat dignity. Perhaps some of that awkwardness remains, Nikoletta thought as she recalled him banging his head. It was oddly endearing, though.

She shook her head to get out of her stupor, and then turned to the documents Argrave had delivered. She’d still yet to verify if it was truly what she’d lost. She tore off the neatly wrapped strings and pulled off page after page, checking if everything was as she remembered it. After she had got to the end of it, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the table, chuckling.

“It’s all there. It’s really all there.” She kept laughing like a maniac for a time as she felt the burden of the world lift from her shoulders.

She had been in a desperate panic the past few days trying to recreate this. Now, her cousin, whom she had only dislike of and firmly believed to be someone of ill character, had simply handed it to her.

“I don’t get him,” she said aloud.

Was he trying to win her favor? Certainly, as the daughter of Duke Enrico, Nikoletta was someone worthy of befriending for material gain. She always kept that in mind for all of her interactions, and it had saved her much heartache throughout the years.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now that I have this. I just have to be cautious of him in the future. She looked at her papers with a smile. Though… maybe I could get Mina to do some investigating… Nikoletta stood again. She had a month of free time now that she had her dissertation back. Perhaps she didn’t need to take Argrave’s word. Perhaps she could find out the truth of the matter on her own.

#####

Argrave wiped his slightly red forehead with his black handkerchief. Door frames were probably not especially dirty, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Especially so if I’m sickly… Argrave noted. A medieval world was not a clean place. Many cities lacked sewers, the people seldom washed, and the standards of living were generally lower. At the very least, healing mages abated some of that uncleanliness. Nevertheless, Argrave was unsettled by the prospect of touching people, and pulled his gloves tighter over his hands.

Argrave returned to his dorm without issue. This time, he had the foresight to duck, and avoided hitting his head an embarrassing third time. Once inside, he stared at the room.

What now?

room and began cleaning things up. He had already cleaned, but the room was not spotless. He dusted with a piece of cloth and

expulsion

put in a full effort, he was not confident in success. He had read every in-game book and written thorough articles on the magic lore,

would discard their family name during their stay, and further could not hold lands or receive incomes. They were barred from coming and going freely. Most

his arms to transfer them back onto the shelf. The simple act of

a terrible reputation, and if I make it any worse, it will be difficult to have mobility where I need it. I must stay within the Order. Besides, I might take this month to sort out my strengths, decide my course of action, and identify the various ticking time-bombs this world has

doubly so if the matter involved himself—or, rather, his new self. He would need to identify problems both present and future and decide a course of action to correct them. Boons could be handled in the same

sat at his desk and began planning for his future. It was not so different from planning for college, he supposed.

No, don’t get distracted.

#####

of planning and drafting, Argrave tried to sleep. The height would have been an issue, but the former Argrave had laid two beds side-by-side to accommodate his larger frame, and he could lie soundly. Indeed, despite the medieval

issue was

the day welled up. What exactly was happening? Had he died—the former person who he was, at least? He remembered nothing of what he had been doing before this, and the

him, but it was fruitless. The questions kept coming unbidden. Perhaps his mother was crying

Forget this.

on the neatly folded robe he’d set beside his bed and made for the door. He retrieved a small glass orb attached to a piece of metal from the sconce beside the door. He willed a bit of his magic inside it, and it

lamps identical to the one he held to light the place. As skinny as he was, Argrave was quite cold, and

red moon illuminated the stone in uneven red moonbeams matching the shape of the windows. There was a massive crater in the center of it, making it look like

the one he knew. He felt a chill on his spine. Seeing this moon, his mind accepted a fact that he had been subconsciously denying. He was not who he used to be, nor was he where he used to be.

do now. Keep busy.

pulling the robe’s hood over his head, Argrave headed for the circular room in the center of the tower. It was host to an elevator of sorts. That circular room was the only way to descend or ascend floors, and he

Argrave neared the elevator, he heard quiet footsteps rapidly approaching him from behind. He turned in time to pull his shoulders away from a hand, and they gripped air. A rather well-built

magic lamp Argrave held. He was a fair bit shorter than Argrave, but still quite tall. He was certainly broader than Argrave, the gray robes of the Order clinging tightly to his robust frame.

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