Bad News

A carriage stopped outside the Library.

Annan took two stacks of books from the driver and returned to the Library before the carriage could kick up dust. He opened the brown paper wrapping and deftly sorted the books onto the shelves by category.

The books were no longer shelved at random. Solemn histories of war no longer sat beside erotic novels, or fairy tales beside geographical accounts.

As for arranging them alphabetically...

Frankly, Annan and Victor looked after a Library that hardly anyone visited. Only local nobles, wealthy people, and travelers passing through town ever came through the door.

The nobles never came to read. Their parents had sent them to build a relationship with Mr. Victor, or they hoped to become his magic apprentices. Little Winchester was one example.

More importantly, Mr. Victor hadn't paid Annan extra.

The light spilling into the Library shifted as the carriage blocking the doors and windows drove away.

In the quiet that followed, Annan approached Mr. Victor. "Mr. Victor, a friend of mine would like to come read at the Library too."

"What are the Library's rules for visitors?" Mr. Victor turned a page of the ancient book, its text crowded with runes Annan couldn't understand.

There were no rules for visitors. The Library barred no one.

"But she isn't human..."

Annan told Victor that Tasia was a Minotaur.

Mr. Victor gave him no answer, but his attitude said enough.

That evening, Annan went down to the wine cellar and told Tasia the good news.

"Thank you, Annan."

Firelight shone in Tasia's eyes, which were no longer numb.

"It's nothing... I'll come get you tomorrow morning."

Annan hurried out of the cellar.

Tonight was special: the bard had reached the finale of "Breaking the Heavens."

The drinkers forgot Evelyn's adorable rabbit ears, and the women paid no attention to Faster's muscular build. Quiet and intent, they lost themselves in the bard's tale.

When the bard brought the story that had lasted half a month to a close, he began to play his Lute. Over its gentle notes, he sang, "In Pinglin Town, in Breeze City, above the sea of clouds, the flame spirit soared—"

Annan had adapted the original to suit this other world. The bard had taken Annan's version and made it feel closer to home.

What kind of story resonated most?

One set somewhere familiar.

So in the bard's telling, Sean's family came from Pinglin Town, and Wutan City became Breeze City. It had all happened centuries ago. Whether Pinglin Town had even existed back then hardly mattered.

Just as a drunk didn't care what the bits at the bottom of his rye beer were.

No one shouted. As the music faded, the customers settled into a wistful hush.

Then the bard's fingers swept across the strings. A veil of cheer brushed over everyone in the tavern, lifting their spirits again. Faster frowned slightly but did not resist the welcome feeling.

"To the one who brought us this story—do you have anything to say?" the bard asked with a smile.

As though a spotlight had fallen on him, every gaze in the tavern turned to Annan.

Caught completely unprepared, Annan froze for a moment. Then, under all those stares, he managed to say, "I hope 'Breaking the Heavens' gets published."

"You have my support!"

"I'd buy a copy!"

"Me too!"

"If it includes that part in the cave in the Monster Mountains, I'll take one!"

The customers joined in for the fun of it. Whether they could read the book, or afford it, was another matter... The first hardly mattered; everyone was caught up in the moment. As for the second, most of the tavern's regulars had enough money to spend on leisure. They couldn't spare much, but a few dozen copper coins for a book was within reach.

As it happened, a traveling merchant bound for Breeze City was in the tavern. He had heard the bard's lively telling from beginning to end. Seeing the customers' enthusiasm and hearing Annan's wish, he stood up and offered to take the story to a bookstore in Breeze City.

Pinglin Town was too small. Even if one person in a hundred bought the book, that would mean only thirty or forty buyers.

Cheers and raised cups greeted the merchant.

The merchant struck a deal as swiftly as he traveled from town to town. With everyone in the tavern as witness, Annan signed a contract with him that was legally binding on the Allen Continent. The merchant would sell "Breaking the Heavens" on Annan's behalf and take ten percent of Annan's profits. Annan would receive an advance from the merchant—exactly one gold coin.

Faster accepted the money on Annan's behalf, though.

Annan was puzzled, but he said nothing.

The merchant would stay another day, giving Annan time to revise "Breaking the Heavens" and fully adapt it to the local setting.

Like the hush after a final curtain, the late-night tavern became a quiet place filled only with the gentle sound of the Lute.

Annan went over to the bard.

"You knew all along?"

Annan suspected the bard had used an encouraging spell while telling the story.

"The tavern can't do without me, so someone else had to make the trip." The bard didn't deny it.

The familiar sound of boots came from behind him. Mr. Fast had walked over too. "Carrying that much money will bring you trouble. I'll hold on to it for now."

Annan had more or less guessed why. "Where do I go to have my aptitude tested?"

"Breeze City. But I'd suggest asking Mr. Victor first."

With the chance he had dreamed of finally so close, Annan tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He even considered knocking on Mr. Victor's door in the middle of the night. By the time he fell asleep, dawn was almost upon him.

He arrived at the Library full of energy, unlocked the door, and cheerfully began cleaning. When Mr. Victor arrived, Annan was just about to speak.

"Lock the door and come with me," Victor said.

Puzzled, Annan locked the Library and followed Victor to the basement.

The old man took a wooden box from inside his coat and set it on the table. He opened it. An irregular, dull crystal lay at the bottom.

"A magic stone imbued with Perception can be used fifty times." Mr. Victor's tone was as stiff and blunt as ever. "This one has been used forty-nine."

For some reason, Annan found himself thinking that Perception was a third-circle spell, one an elite mage could cast, and that an unattributed magic stone cost three gold coins. Each test with a Perception stone cost one gold coin, and it could be used fifty times. That was fifty gold in revenue. After the cost of the stone, the net profit was forty-seven gold...

Then Annan shook the mercenary thought from his mind.

Mages earned money quickly, but spent it even faster.

"Did you prepare this for me?" Annan asked in surprise.

"I prepared it for the rats in the gutter."

Annan took a deep breath and placed his hand on the magic stone.

A faint coolness touched his palm. The Perception stone lit up with a weak, dim glow.

It meant Annan's magical affinity was level zero.

As if fate were playing a cruel joke, neither of the two people in the Library could ever be more than a Mage Apprentice.