The sun hung at the highest point in the sky, beaming directly down at the people and the countless roofs. Alessandre bounced down the street, grinning while the villagers called out greetings.

  "Fresh pastries, Aless! Want one?" An elderly woman greeted him with a tray full of freshly baked pastries outside her door.

  "Hey Alessandre, try this new fruit drink. It's from the North. I bet you it's good!"

  "Massage, Aless? First one's on the house! We have a spa too!"

  "He's been growing, no?"

  "Really becoming like his father!"

  The bell above the door jingled softly as Alessandre entered the bookstore, this time on his own. As usual, the calming smell of old parchment and machine oil filled the narrow aisles.

  "Mr. Blake~ I'm just going to take a few books if you don't mind!" Alessandre yelled at the top of his lungs. He looked around, confused at where the old man had gone, and surprised he would ever leave his beloved store. "Mr. Blake?"

  In his place, a new figure was perched behind the cluttered counter, wrestling with a stack of books that threatened to topple. The young man wore glasses far too large for his thin face; a name tag on his chest read: "Felix Viren - First Year, Southern Academy of Aetherune."

  "Uh, h-hello, sir! Let me just—oh!" His elbow whacked the stack, and a cascade of papers and books went skittering to the floor. His knees and elbows went everywhere at once.

  Alessandre stifled a smile. "Are you new here?"

  "Oh, um, yes, just started, actually. Gotta afford school somehow." He chuckled to himself. "Ah—sorry about the mess! Mr. Blake said I could help, but I'm just making more work, ahaha..." Felix fumbled a fairy-tale compendium into place before answering, not quite meeting the boy's gaze.

  His words trailed off as he nudged his glasses up his nose and busied himself stacking books, all the while sneaking quick glances at Alessandre. "You—uh—you visit here a lot, don't you? I mean, not that I was watching! It's just, um, Mr. Blake talks about you... He says you, um, read a lot. A lot, a lot."

  Alessandre's curiosity piqued. "Mhm! He has THE BEST collection! What about yourself?"

  Felix beamed, dropping the pile of books he was stacking and scrambling to pick them up again. "Oh, yes, though... probably not nearly as well-read as you... History, only. Sometimes weird history." He shuffled awkwardly, brushing dust off his collection, which was futile in the air of dust. He dropped his voice just enough: "Strange things. Sometimes. Old stories. Did you ever hear the one about the glass library at the bottom of the lake?"

  The boy chuckled. "Oh, that! I've actually read it a few years back; it was quite creepy. What about history? Tell me more about the history that you like so much."

  Felix's glasses slid down; he pushed them up. "O-oh... there isn't much to it, all wars and rebellions in the past. Mostly." Alessandre raised an eyebrow.

  "What kind of history do you enjoy?"

  "Mostly modern; I just find it more relevant." Felix shrugged. Alessandre nodded, waiting for a proper answer. "W-well, um, let's see..." His eyes flicked in Alessandre's general direction, and a bright blue gleam appeared in his eyes - too bright to be just sunlight. "Ah, the rebellion of the Clera Family back in... the summer of 1673? That one was interesting to look at. I'm fascinated by how an arranged marriage could cause such a big revolution... Oh! Sorry, I trailed off. What are you looking for today, sir? I might be able to help... if I don't ruin it."

  Alessandre gave an innocent smile. "Since Mr. Blake isn't here... can I have the entire collection of 'After the Rain'?"

  Felix froze; his eyes twitched a bit. "S-sir, um, that collection is a bit... adult-oriented..."

  Alessandre's smile remained, his eyes forming crescents. "What about...'The Fifty-one Days'?"

  "You have a GREAT eye, sir! Classical literature, I personally enjoyed the romance in this one a lot!" Felix sprang up in relief, finding the book with a speed he never even knew was possible. "Here you go, sir! Anything else?"

  Alessandre nodded, "Can I also have the whole collection of 'The Alchemy of the World' series? Mhm, all three of them please."

  Felix smiled warmly as he handed the boy the books one by one. "You are almost a polymath, sir! You just know every field! I do have to warn you, though, this one is a bit complicated."

  Alessandre tilted his head a bit. "Why so?"

  "Well, you see, the reason why you can only find it in the libraries of renowned academies and not just random bookstores, uh, excluding this one, is because it is incredibly calculation-oriented. For example, predicting the direction of flow in Aetherium through the amount of energy emitted by a machine. O-oh! Sorry for rambling again."

  Alessandre nodded as he stuffed all the books into his handbag. He brought out three silver coins from his bag and placed them on the counter. Felix's eyes widened as he saw the money, but quickly remembered something. "O-oh, sir! Mr. Blake said it would be all free if you were buying."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Alessandre turned around and smiled. "I know, it's your tip."

  "S-sir...this is way too much! Wait! Come back!"

  Alessandre's mouth curved up at the young man's stunned reaction. Opening the door, a book caught his notice—"A brief overview of the Clera rebellion of 1663 - A Marriage that started a revolution ". The door shut behind the boy, his smile slowly disappearing as he made his way back to the estate.

  "Was it a mistake?" Alessandre thought to himself. There is something about that man. But what is it? "He claims to love history, but he got the Clera rebellion date wrong - it's 1663, not 1673."

  Alessandre tilted his head, averting his gaze to the squawking crows. Felix's details didn't add up. "He did glance in my direction... which happened to be the same direction as that book huh? Wait!" His eyes widened as the memories played back in his head. The man is scrambling to look in the direction of the book, and... the reflection of the sun in his eyes? But... how? It was noon; That gleam could not have been sunlight."

  "That wasn't a reflection. Now that I think about it, that flash was blue." Alessandre's brain goes into overdrive, thinking about all the inconsistencies. "He also knew about the random books I've pretended to pick, and its contents..?"

  Memories flashed vividly.

  The dusty floor clicked as Alessandre walked within the narrow aisles, his vision lingered.

  "After the Rain."

  He turned around, only to be met with Felix's nervous smile. As Alessandre kept on walking, Felix followed. Whatever book he would look at, Felix would linger a second longer.

  "Fifty-One Days."

  "He... memorised and noticed the books I paid more attention to...? It was almost like he read them in an instant..."

  The guess slowly took form the more Alessandre thought. It was obvious, a little too much so, yet it did not make sense - there was something about his eyes, from the eerie blue flash to the seemingly instant reading. Of course, there is always the possibility that he has read the books before. Regardless, however, the chance of him knowing the random books Alessandre picked is still too low to make sense.

  Alessandre's eyebrows scrunched together. It was quite clear. Felix Viren wasn't as simple as he appeared, nor was he clumsy.

  Deciding to observe before confrontation, Alessandre visited the book store even more regularly throughout the next few weeks. He noted every single detail about Felix - How he would be there every Saturday and leave on Monday; how he would take off his glasses every now and then, as if resting his eyes; But the more he observed, the more the mystery thickened, however there was one man where it all fixated on - Emperor Morcis Paul, the last King before the shift of Aetherune into an aristocratic oligarchy.

  Originally, Alessandre figured it was just some research for the academy, but that idea was quickly wiped off - Felix's obsession seemed almost heretical. Felix himself did not seem to realise, as if he had already lost himself. His sensitivity to information became more and more blatant as days went on. He heard every footstep of guests, knew where everyone went, what books they borrowed, and even what tea they preferred. Sometimes, Alessandre even caught him fixated on the particles of dust in the air. Alessandre tried to bring it up to other regulars and even Mr. Blake himself, yet no one seemed to acknowledge it, no one seemed to notice it, and all just shrugged.

  That mysterious blue glint in his eyes still haunted Alessandre.

  Before anyone had realised, it has been a month.

  The sun peeks from the horizon. Birds flew from their nests, chirping excitedly, welcoming the always late arrival of summer. The season when the land truly wakes up from its winter slumber, the season when life flourishes even more vividly, and the season when the starry glitter light up the night sky. Flowers bloomed from the ground like a still firework show, making the dawn rays and mist seem even more dreamy. Sylphiette leaned on the rails of her balcony, admiring the gentle golden glint of daylight that adorned the land. She hummed a tune softly, in her hands was a vase, and in the vase stood a pair of intertwined, proud roses.

  She picked up a teacup from the balcony table and took a small sip of sweet tea."The peace of a summer morning is truly captivating in its own quiet way." Sylphiette held the vase in the warm sunlight, bathing it. "Isn't that right, you two?" she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips.

  The flowers smiled back. The sun did too. The clouds laughed, the grass chuckled. For a second, everything was laughing...heretically. Sylphiette stared into the distant, rising sun, which her glassy eyes reflected clearly. She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled, letting the scent flood her brain. Her irises began separating, reforming. Slowly, a stunning pattern of what seemed like a thousand scale-like rose pedals emerged.

  Sylphiette smiled wide - it was an unladylike smile, her teeth became sharp as spears. With a slightly trembling hand, she reached into the vase, and plucked the flowers from the soil, its roots still attached. Sylphiette threw the flowers into her mouth, her teeth shredding them into mush before she desperately swallowed. Her face contorted, liquid had burst from the stem - bitter, sour, fishy, and rotten.

  "W-what...did I just do?" Sylphiette panicked, her voice was choked by the burning sensation in her throat. She searched desperately, but her memory seemed to have lost a piece of itself. One moment she was enjoying the sweet tea, and the next moment there was a fire in her throat. She scraped her brain of information, finding nothing but a vague image of Aless' flowers.

  "The flowers...?" Sylphiette looked at the empty vase in her hands. "The...flowers? Where did they-" She opened her mouth and gagged uncontrollably, falling to her knees.

  Suddenly, Sylphiette feels something brush against her. It was Luna. Slowly, she stopped gagging, and the brutal burning in her stomach seemed to be fading.

  ________________________________________________________________________________

  [2021/02/04 12:40 am], Harbourview city.

  The streetlight flickered and flashed, lighting up the chaotic graffiti on the alley walls. Groans and screams filled the alleyway.

  "W-wait Sir! It was all a misunderstanding!" A round middle aged man begged, his back pressed against his luxurious car as he slowly retreated in defeat. Surrounding him was a clump of unconscious gangsters, every one of their faces was bruised and bleeding. A boy with light brown hair stood amidst the groaning bodies, in his hand was a crooked and bent metal bat soaked in blood.

  The boy turned around. His face was stunning - a mix between pretty and handsome, and adorning it was two different coloured eyes - gold-yellow and black. His pupils glowed a merciless red - threateningly visible as the streetlights began to flicker off.

  The boy spat, not a glint of empathy in his eyes. He threw the bat, which crashed into the car violently, forcing the car back several metres, flipping it upside down. The man turned his head robotically, feeling the sudden absence of his expensive vehicle behind his back, and a wet patch started growing in his pants.

  "Come here, please." The boy asked politely, unsettlingly so. With trembling steps, the man approached. "Kneel down." The boy commanded, the man complied.

  The boy placed his his right hand on top of the mans head, grabbing the waning patch of hair at the top of his head, tearing it off clean - no excessive movement, just one violent rip. The man's shriek shook the air. "Even your shriek sounded rich." The boy mocked.