Chapter 25

Were it right? Her decisions. . .

The young magician of Celeste found herself indulged deep within analogies— contrasting ideas and whatnot from actions.

Wrapped in one hand was a quill, dipped and dripping with onyx liquid, staining the empty-worded parchment that laid still on top a cluttered desk.

She was currently situated within the silent walls of the library, figuring things out whilst writing a report and apology note to the Council of Magic— for apparently 'breaking' the Law of Magic.

Whatever that even meant.

Stuck she was. The clogs wouldn't, unfortunately, work the way it was supposed to. Demoded, creaking, failing in terms of function which then results to the inability of reproducing a single letter to scribble.

"Arghhh!!" Groaned she, ruffling her already tangled silky white tresses in frustration. Too much thinking and time continued ticking, reminding her again and again that the papers were due before the sun's slumber.

'Curse those council bastards! What law did I even violate? I recall none!'

"Ooohhh~ she's upset. She's irritated. Miss calm-collected magician is going to explode!" In addition to her woes, the stupid ghost that haunts the library was ever-so-present. Finding entertainment in the aggravation of others.

The ghost's victim— unluckily had to be her.

"Will you please tie your lips shut!?" Exclaimed Clementine, throwing her quill towards the non-existent body of Sir Paul (the poltergeist). Beshrew the 'Keep Quiet in the Library' policy.

"Or would you be rather more pleased if I exorcise you on this very second just to silence you?! I'm working, damnit." Added she, came following after were crackling from white electric shocks adorning her hand.

"Whoops. Scary, really scary~." The ghost wasn't frightened at all. Skies forbid, he was even mocking her, wanting to rouse her furthermore.

Eye-twitching, lips trembling, she was so near. Her irritation meter now rising higher to the very top. "Will. You. Please. Stop?" Teeth grazed onto each other, veins pulsing with fire, cheeks flushed beetroot, ears smoking.

Yep, she's definitely angry.

'Dear heavens. . .'

"I'm so done with you." Raising her jerking hand— Clementine blasted him a spell. Narrowly missing the transparent being's neck and blasting the wall adjacent to hers instead. (It was intended by her, of course).

He shrieked, obviously. The poltergeist now frozen in surprise. It was as if he had seen something much more horrifying than ghosts and poltergeists in his whole ghostly life.

Relieved, the magican sighed. Although removing such a rackety of a ghost wasn't enough to lax her tightened-tensed muscles.

Stress. She was still in apparent pressure. Clementine couldn't comprehend and retain a single thought. Her mind was in utter chaos, as if it was wrecked by a raging supertyphoon.

Lethargic iridiscent silver pools shifted, its focus now directed on neatly polished floor. Tick-tock said the clock, the neverending sound serves as a reminder that time is infinite.

"Papers. . .papers. . . I should do the papers first. Right." Whispered the magician. Albeit opposed to continue her undone task, Clementine forced herself to, wanting to finish and submit the papers in time as told.

Sluggishly pulling her chair, it screeched cacophonously— to which she basically winced at as she seated herself down. A huff of air went past her ajarred lips, dominant fingers reaching out on the side for a spare quill.

Yet she felt none of its features. No smooth feathers nor there were any cold hard nibs. The white-haired lass have used them all, the apparent last of all quills, appeared to have been broken into pieces.

She must've thrown it harder than she initially thought.

Sigh. . .

Clementine banged her head on the wooden desk; hard. Caring less if such action would leave a bruise of noticeable cerise on her porcelain skin.

Papers flew and scattered at the impact, dwindling in motion as each coffee-white sheets fell and became a staining mess on the ground. Blank everything on parchments were, although splotches of onyx dots that varied in sizes are seen on some.

The magician tried to form words to jot down. An apology and report wanted by the folks working in the council. However, the lass couldn't— simply due to unsolutioned dilemmas that were trapped in one bubble inside her head.

That. And the fact that apologizing for a violation she hadn't committed at all was too agonizingly perturbing. 'Innocent till announced guilty'— as they quote it.

"Aggravation won't bring you anywhere."

"Glad that you're aware." Peevish laced words emitting past her lips in a mumble.

"What's gotten you so cranky?" Wonder, befuddlement, Dominique inquired the whitette. Half amused at the sight that sat before his very gaze.

After what seems to be aeonian of days since her departure, this would likely be their first reencounter. Admittedly, she reckoned having his company a reverence, they clicked akin to a buckle.

A friendship more than simple acquaintance when her suspicion of him simmered till zilch. Though they don't meet as much for both have schedules that doesn't quite collide with the other.

"Paperwork." A point-blank response.

"There's more to it, is there?" Countered the lad.

"Hardly." She whispered, lifting her head to stare at him dead-on spot. The magician sighed anew, mayhaps for the nth time that hour.

A hoarse giggle made silver-pools narrowly squinch, attention directed towards the male. Whereas the aforementioned knight could only snicker at the galore of expressions that shaped her visage.

"The way you've been acting states otherwise." Pointed Dominique, leaning in to ruffle white tresses in frolic. He ceased midway, however, concluding that he may or may not have known the reason for her evident distress.

"It's about 'him' isn't it?" Added the noble knight.

Changes in ambiance was immediately acknowledged by the latter. Tension mixed with gloom made its negativity move downhill. Clementine released a breath through pursed lips, pools of silver swathed in immeasurable weight.

"All leads ends with loose threads. I haven't gotten myself a good result so far." The magician blew raspberries at the recollection of the recent investigation. Definitely not liking the denouement of her own scavenger hunt.

"I do not want to talk more of it." Muttered the whitette, nibling the bottom of her lip with pearly-white teeth. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

Ceasing her previous ministrations, Clementine raised a brow in question towards her companion. Gauging the emotions glued temporarily on his complexion, whilst analyzing the difference of language his body spoke.

"Ah." Dominique scratched the back of his neck, carmine tint decorating his cheeks; embarrassed. "A known acquaintance from far away came to visit. He ask for a book that's exclusively seen in this library." explained the knight.

"However, I may not have known its exact whereabouts. And I was th—".

"You're thinking if I could be of assistance to you?"

"Yes." Affirmed the lad with a nod, eager and pleading.

The magician's brows met in a furrow, baffled. "I'm afraid I couldn't, Dom." She refused such request. A reason so odd and perplexed. Isn't it quite suspicious?

"Who is this acquaintance of yours, if I may ask?" Interrogation is a must during times as such. And she was starving with answers to feed her gargling stomach of questions.

What she wants to learn, she shall discover and know. A kitty filled with curiosity, she's akin to one.

"Well. He's from the House of Nevaerez. Their family is a close familiar with mines and the Celestes for some reason."

The apparent mention of the noble name had her ears twitching in interest, perking in recognition towards the affiliated members of the aforementioned house.

Known to be exorcists they were and still. Marvelous and excellent with their work that the greatest exorcist of all, Amelia Vaygne, applauded them for such skills.

"Oh, and he's here just to get a hold of a certain book he desires?" Furtheron queried the magician.

"He's also here to discuss politics with His Highness King Lawrence." Replied Dominique.

"Well? Why don't he ask the king himself for the book?" Clementine rose from her seat, approaching the knight who was rendered motionless at the abrupt motion.

His immobility to which she took advantage of, halting her pace when she reached a foot away from the knight. Curling, her lips moved upward— a grin that complimented the daring glimmer of her silver optics.

"Exclusive books are exclusive for a reason. And the heads of the royal family are the only ones who knew any of its locations." Clementine leaned further, aiming for his ear in order to whisper something that only Dominique would've ever known.

For a mere acquaintance, he's venturing perilous waters of unknown. She reckon that the male acquaintance was an audacious being— full of it.

This made her chuckle, shaking her head at the thought that occured in her mind. She might as well see this suspicious male for herself.

Just a tiny research would do.

'Why does my life have to revolve around suspicious humans. . .sigh'