"Ah, but as we're not friends yet, and you weren't exactly welcoming…" My gaze dropped to Aegus's hand clasped in mine. "I suppose I'll be taking this back."

  I closed my left hand over his, joining my right. The illusioned warm flesh crumbled instantly, turning to ash that drifted away with a sudden light breeze. Aegus's real hand of cold metal and runes came back into view as I let the illusion unravel, both from their sight and, in Aegus's case, his sense of touch.

  He yanked his hand back so fast he nearly stumbled, as if my clasp was a hot stove. His eyes were wide with horror.

  "You—what was that?" he said.

  "Regenerative magic?" whispered the thin one, sounding both terrified and hopeful.

  Apophis snickered from my shoulder, making an accurate guess regarding the illusion I produced. ~Master, did you perhaps make his arm reappear?

  "But I heard he's never practiced magic," the broad one murmured.

  "That must've been a lie. No one with over a thousand belden is untrained—"

  "Do you think those constraints are even working?"

  The two young Bob-duplicates stopped their whispering and stared at me.

  "That was a taste of what I can do. Despite these," I replied, tapping one of the Black Mana Cuffs on my wrist.

  I didn't need any misconceptions of grandeur beyond what my minuscule mana core could produce via Illusion Magic. God-forbid they ask for something grander. I could make them feel, taste, see, hear, and smell what I wanted within a particular scope. But I couldn't actually produce something that wasn't there. I was limited in my influence in regards to perception, not reality.

  But I've realized long ago that oftentimes that was enough. Often, our perception was reality.

  And given how swept under the rug Illusion Magic was even in this realm, I was counting on surviving through sheer psychological sleight-of-hand until I could return home.

  "Can you heal it?" Aegus blurted, lifting his metal arm. His voice was earnest, desperate.

  ~How shameless, Apophis hissed. Not even a minute ago, he was looking for a fight.

  I agreed. It was almost impressive how fast and complete this guy's attitude pivot was.

  "Why should I?" I asked, folding my arms and continuing the charade. "Weren't you trying to bully me just moments ago?"

  "That—uh-that was… a misunderstanding," he stammered. "A test—"

  "I don't think it was a misunderstanding," I said flatly. "And a test? What if I'd failed? What then?"

  Aegus opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  "Treat your peers better," I said, patting his shoulder. "Become a decent human being. Then maybe I'll consider looking at your arm."

  A bell chimed overhead. It was deep and resonant, vibrating faintly through the ancient stone walls.

  I glanced up at the stairwell leading to my next class.

  "Ah, I don't want to be late for my next class," I said and turned on my heel, leaving the trio behind. None followed.

  Only once I rounded the corner onto my intended floor did I let out a quiet sigh.

  Hopefully that's the last of them.

  Though I suspected they were far from the only ones that might attempt to give me a hard time.

  "What will I do the next time this happens?" I pondered aloud, in the language only Apophis understood. "If others stoop to lower levels of bullying?"

  ~Master, you could always craft something… more vivid. Wasn't that your specialty back in the day? His hiss carried far too much enthusiasm. What worked for extracting information can be… adapted. I'm sure your creativity hasn't dulled.

  A cold shiver crawled up my spine.

  "Apophis, they're just kids," I whispered harshly. "I thought you had a soft spot for children?"

  The trio was technically my age, at least visually. But given the loops, I was at least seven years their senior and thus couldn't quite place myself into the same age bracket. Though admittedly, even these seven years from my original life were spotty, with much forgotten. In any case, they were nonetheless kids in my eyes and utterly ineligible for whatever horrors Apophis had in mind.

  ~Hah, that only applies to actual kids. Those were teenagers, ravaged and tarnished by greed and other evils. Hardly innocent.

  I sighed.

  Right, he was always like this.

  I sometimes forgot that Apophis was not, at his core, a creature guided by goodwill. He'd been banished to my realm for reasons I'd once known but had since forgotten. Reasons that were, if memory served, not insignificant and well warranted.

  His faulty moral compass was a concern, given my current circumstances and reliance on him. The Ignorance is Bliss affliction was still in effect, and I didn't have a System to record any reminders for me, to ensure I stayed on track. Thus, in its absence, I had no other choice but to rely on this snake to be a record of what memories I might forget and guide me forward. We had a promise tattoo, holding us to a tight contract. However, I had no doubt that Apophis would take advantage of any loopholes or slippage on my part.

  I need to make sure my sanity doesn't take any significant hits. That's the only defense I have.

  I sighed.

  And if I ever reach a point where my sanity is under threat—

  Well. I'd already made my peace with that, that I'd do whatever was necessary to protect it. Back in the exam hall, when my destiny hung in the balance, between being allowed into the academy or being tossed into prison, I had resigned myself to resorting to anything in ensuring I did not end up in the penitentiary mentioned. I could not risk my sanity dropping.

  My next class passed without incident—externally, at least. Internally, I comprehended maybe a tenth of the lecture. And unlike earlier, no one offered to share their textbook with me. I had to rely entirely on the instructor's voice and the occasional chalk scribble on the board.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The words in a textbook wouldn't have been of much help, but the diagrams could have provided some additional guidance.

  ~Master, where are we going now?

  "The library," I said, stepping into the sunlight. "At this rate, I'm going to fail every class. Then my exam score will be questioned, and I'll get accused of cheating. Which, frankly, would be correct."

  ~Ah, so you shall study? Good for you. I shall nap then.

  "No. You will instruct me," I stated curtly. "It's because of you that I entered with the highest exam score in the academy's history and am currently in this mess to begin with."

  I had overheard enough to realize that I could have entered the academy with only twenty answers right on the written exam. That written test was merely a placement tool intended to identify a student's class level. And as it stood, I was horribly misplaced. I was a tadpole swimming among fully grown alligators.

  ~Master, you are too harsh. Your full scholarship was a result of that high test score.

  "I would have obtained it with the mana level test alone," I retorted, to which the snake remained silent, having no other counter.

  ~Very well, I will instruct you, he begrudgingly agreed.

  The path to the library was lined with fluffy pink trees, their petals drifting like cotton candy clouds in the breeze. Ahead stood a massive building that seemed composed mainly of windows rather than actual walls. The gigantic windows did not provide a view inside; instead, they glinted in the bright afternoon sun, with iridescent rainbow streaks dancing across their surface.

  Inside, the structure opened into an airy chamber that felt more like a chapel worshipping a deity than a place of learning. Filtered and softened sunlight poured through the translucent walls. The sky overhead was a brilliant blue, and the lawns outside glowed with green and pink hues. Even the bookshelves were unlike anything I'd ever seen, made up of large, clear crystal and glinting with a similar iridescent shine to the windows. They towered up the full three stories, uninterrupted by any floors. Multiple floating crystal steps spiraled upward toward these far-off texts, each one shimmering faintly, as students walked up them.

  Even the muffled whispers and curious stares from nearby students dissipated into the background beneath the awe and beauty of the space.

  I sighed, the weight of reality settling in again.

  Beautiful or not, I was here for painfully mundane reasons. I had to study. Properly. Without the benefit of the System translating every book into an easily digestible format.

  However, I had no choice but to push through. My current predicament was such that I had no other choice but to study, not to give away that I'd cheated my way into the academy.

  "Here you are, dear. Let me know what other books or materials you might need." The librarian, a kindly woman in her forties, placed a stack of textbooks before me.

  They were the subjects I had classes for earlier today, ranging from the most basic beginner-level fundamentals to the topics of my current advanced courses.

  "Thank you," I said, accepting the tower of books, a notebook, and a pen. I trudged deeper into the library, away from other students.

  I found a quiet corner by one of the enormous crystal windows. Outside, unicorns with white coats and shimmering silver horns grazed the academy's green fields. Their movements were smooth and unhurried, a peaceful backdrop to my impending academic doom.

  The library had several underground levels, but I preferred the sunlight and the open view.

  With a resigned breath, I cracked open the first textbook.

  The pages were dense, the text tightly packed in curling script. My eyes tried to take in a paragraph, but the lines blurred, letters subtly swapping places like mischievous insects.

  "Apophis, please read this aloud for me," I requested.

  ~Master, you must get accustomed to reading without my assistance each time. As you have said, I have meddled too much before.

  "But you said you would instruct me," I insisted.

  ~You misunderstand. I will instruct you. But the basics you must conquer on your own.

  I felt him slide off my shoulder, his cool scales leaving my neck.

  ~Besides, I am famished and in need of sustenance. I will return.

  I never did learn exactly what Apophis ate, and if I did, I had long forgotten it. But I did not have the luxury to be curious about that right now. My current predicament was already quite a miserable one, and I had but myself to pull myself out of this hole.

  I refocused on the text and began whispering each sentence under my breath, slowly and deliberately, capturing the words in place. My left finger hovered just beneath the text, guiding me line by line so they wouldn't wriggle out of place. Every few lines, I paused to write down a section exactly as printed, copying it letter for letter into my notebook. Seeing the text twice helped anchor it—if I didn't lose the thread halfway through.

  It was exhausting, but familiar. Outside, unicorns grazed lazily across the green, lush fields, unaware of the absolute battle taking place between me and the fourth paragraph at the bottom of the page.

  I pressed my fingertips into my temples, trying to steady the slight pressure.

  Focus, Luca. Just get through one more page.

  "You're reading aloud."

  I blinked, looking up toward the source of the voice.

  It was the librarian—the same woman who'd provided my textbooks earlier. She had shoulder length brown hair and wore the light grey uniform with purple and golden details that non-instructing staff around the campus wore. She stood beside a cart of books, her expression thoughtful. Not mocking. Not confused. Simply… observant.

  "And," she continued gently, "you're copying the text exactly as it appears. Every word."

  My shoulders stiffened at her analysis, but her expression was kindly. There was no judgment—just pure clinical observation.

  "I heard you scored nearly perfect on the entrance exam," she said. "Impressive enough on its own. But astounding, given your disability."

  I frowned. "Disability?"

  She blinked in surprise.

  "Oh? You weren't aware?" Her tone softened. "That explains your pace. You've probably relied on someone else to read to you for much of your life, haven't you?"

  My eyes widened. "How did you know?"

  "It's common for students with dyslexia," she said, "to stabilize words through sound. Whispering aloud. Tracking lines with a finger. Copying text letter-for-letter rather than summarizing." She gestured to my notebook. "Your strategies are familiar signs."

  I rubbed my temple again. "Dyslexia? What is that?"

  The librarian's expression shifted into something even softer.

  "It means your mind reads differently," she explained. "Not wrongly. Just differently. The letters don't stay still. Lines collapse or drift. Sentences become difficult to process unless anchored with sound or touch. Many brilliant young mages have it. Their thinking is fast, creative… but written language behaves like a puzzle someone keeps rearranging."

  Her voice held no pity. Only matter-of-fact understanding.

  I nodded internally along to her every word. Her description was spot on.

  "And you haven't been diagnosed earlier?" she added gently.

  I shook my head.

  "Well," she said, shifting a few books aside on her cart, "fortunately, we have solutions."

  She pulled out a small golden device, the size of a pocket watch and resembling a magnifying glass. Intricate runes wound around the frame, and clusters of tiny, colorful crystals were embedded along the edge.

  "This is called a Lexicon Lens," she said, placing it gently before me. "When you hold it over text, it stabilizes the letters and spaces them evenly. If a word is difficult, you can tap the center crystal, and it will whisper the pronunciation."

  I stared at the device.

  "You're offering this to me?" I glanced at her cart. "And you just happened to have it with you?"

  The librarian smiled. "It's my own, actually. But you can borrow it for now. I'll have two more ordered and ready for you by tomorrow: one compact like this for class, and another larger one that can stabilize an entire textbook page at once. It should help immensely."

  "Thank you," I said, sincerely.

  I was in awe. She was a librarian, someone whose entire life revolved around books. She pursued such a path despite having the same condition as I did.

  If she succeeded, perhaps I could succeed in my studies too.

  The weight in my chest loosened, and a sense of relief filled the space. It was unexpected and warm.

  "Of course," she said with a smile. "It's meant for students like you. And if you ever need further assistance—alternate texts, simplified scripts, study rooms—come find me."

  "Thank you, truly," I repeated, picking up the Lexicon Lens. "And I will. What is your name?"

  "Laura Hayde. I've been a librarian here for almost twenty years now." With that, she rolled her cart away, leaving me alone.

  Even though I still had to trudge my way through the textbooks and internalize their insights on my own, for the first time since arriving at this academy, I felt like I might actually manage to stay afloat.

  I smiled and tackled my textbook with renewed vigor, such that I didn't notice the sun having slid down toward the horizon.

  ~Master, I am back, Apophis announced, slithering onto my shoulder. I apologize for earlier. Hunger clouded my judgment. I will read the books for you.

  I shook my head.

  "That won't be necessary anymore," I said, explaining briefly what had happened.

  ~Look at that. He sounded oddly proud. I leave you for a moment, and the progress you accomplish… truly astounding.

  Ch 263 on Patreon. :)