The Exhibit at the Museum

"You've improved, Myrra." Axilya tilted her head slightly. "That last spell was powerful. It should grow even stronger as you progress."

Myrra barely registered the words. Her thoughts were a mess.

Twice. This was the second time Axilya had walked in on them in an awkward position.

What will she think?

She quickly glanced at Axilya, half-expecting some smug remark, but the girl only smirked knowingly. Myrra's face burned.

Meanwhile, Ian, completely unfazed, calmly pushed himself up and, without hesitation, reached out to Myrra. His grip was firm but effortless as he helped her to her feet.

Myrra's heart was still racing, but Ian, as always, acted like nothing had happened.

Axilya spoke again, more casual this time. "Still," she said, her eyes now on Ian, "next time you want to demonstrate control, try not to make it look like a lovers' duel."

Myrra choked on air.

Ian raised a brow. "Is that what it looked like?"

"That," Axilya said, turning on her heel, "is exactly what it looked like."

The days after followed a steady rhythm, training, study, the occasional duel that ended with Myrra breathless and Ian calm as ever. And then, the day of the museum exhibit arrived.

Ian wasn't going alone, of course. He was taking Myrra, as his date.

Myrra had the perfect dress, one she'd picked up in Ial Themar, tucked away in a boutique that smelled faintly of lavender and old pages. It had caught her eye that day, it had been custom-fitted and prepped to match her body shape.

Printing clothes was convenient, but they lacked the texture, the breathability, the enchantment layering that the shops offered. This one came lightly warded: temperature balancing, long-wear comfort, and minor shielding woven directly into the fabric.

It was a soft charcoal shade, but when the light caught it just right, subtle bronze undertones shimmered through, nothing overwhelming, just enough to add dimension. The design was structured but fluid, with a wrapped neckline that crossed her collarbone and a single exposed shoulder. The back dipped low, edged with faint embroidery resembling an old dialect, purely decorative, but elegant. The skirt opened at one side with a measured slit, just enough to allow for movement, revealing fitted boots of the same muted tone.

The whole outfit felt grounded, refined but functional. Like something meant to be worn, not just shown off.

Myrra turned toward him, eyes curious. "How do I look?"

Ian took a moment, gaze tracing the lines of the dress, the way it moved with her. "Beautiful, as always" he said honestly. "Even more in this dress, somehow. It fits you, not just the look. The feel of it."

A faint warmth touched her expression, her smile soft but knowing.

Then, without another word they made their way towards the museum.

Eryndor was already waiting outside when they arrived, standing near the museum's arched entrance with his hands clasped and his gaze flitting toward the doors every few seconds. At the sight of them, he straightened too quickly, his nerves plain in the small, hurried movements.

"L... Ian, Myrra. You're here," he said, his voice faintly breathless.

"Brother Eryndor," Myrra greeted with a soft smile and a polite incline of her head. "Thank you for waiting."

Eryndor gave a quick nod, avoiding her eyes. "No worries." He turned and led them toward the entrance. "This way."

The building itself didn't look like much from the outside. Same usual as Ian has seen. But inside, it was different.

The entry hall opened wide, with vaulted ceilings and soft, ambient lighting that danced across polished floors. Thin projection lines ran up the pillars, highlighting structural histories, dates, figures from past exhibitions. There was music, but subdued. A slow, thoughtful rhythm played live somewhere deeper inside.

Guests moved through the space in small groups, talking in low voices. Their outfits were formal, but not gaudy, long coats, layered robes, fine-threaded dresses marked with crests or small academic sigils. Some were enchanted, sure, but nothing screamed for attention. Everything felt measured. Intentional.

"Where's Sister Erina?" Myrra asked quietly as they walked.

Eryndor's shoulders tensed before he turned slightly, his expression carefully neutral. "She… said she'd be here," he replied, the pause barely masked. "Probably just running late."

His voice was even, but something flickered behind his eyes, tightness, or hesitation. He didn't offer more, and his gaze dropped for half a second before he turned fully away.

"I should… get back to my duties. A lot still needs final confirmation. The layout, lighting… a few artifact tags are still wrong."

With a quick nod, more to himself than to them, he slipped off into the growing crowd, walking a little too fast for someone trying not to look overwhelmed.

Ian and Myrra moved at an easy pace through the museum's side gallery, pausing now and then to admire old excavation sketches, broken relics, or shimmering projection archives of ancient sites. Their conversation had drifted from serious to silly, Myrra quietly making fun of an overdramatic historical plaque, Ian countering with a deadpan reenactment of the battle it described. She stifled a laugh, bumping her shoulder lightly into his.

That was when a voice chimed in from behind them, smooth, playful, and all too familiar.

"Well, well. Ian... What are you doing here?"

They both turned.

Yelthara stood just a few paces away, effortlessly poised in a dark plum dress that hugged her figure and ended in layered folds that shimmered like wind-brushed water. Her frame was statuesque, athletic yet graceful. with long legs and sharp collarbones framed by the off-shoulder cut of her gown. A slender silver chain draped across her back, catching the soft lighting as she stepped forward with casual elegance. She looked striking, not loud, not overdressed, just perfectly aware of the attention she commanded.

Myrra recognized her instantly. The one from their combat class, but they'd never really spoken. 

Yelthara's eyes flicked to her, narrowing playfully. "And you must be Myrra," she said with a smirk, drawing out the name like it tasted interesting. "The renowned girlfriend."

Myrra stiffened slightly, caught off guard. "Ah… yes. Hello."

Ian gave a sideways glance. "Same thing as you. Attending the event," he said. "Didn't expect to see you here, though. This doesn't seem like your kind of place."

Yelthara raised a brow, dramatically offended. "What are you talking about? I'm very cultured." Then, with a playful twirl of her wrist, she stepped in closer, lowering her voice just enough to feel like a secret. "These are the places where the shady deals happen, Ian. Where old men drink too much wine and suddenly someone's mining permit disappears. There's always fun to be found if you know where to look."

Ian stared at her for a beat, clearly unsure how to respond.

Myrra, beside him, just tilted her head slightly, watching with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Yelthara grinned wide, clearly enjoying the discomfort. "Oh don't look so serious. I'm here for the art. Obviously."

Yelthara's the casually wrapped her fingers around Ian's arm as she looked toward Myrra with a glint in her eye. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Myrra said, her tone warm and easy. But as she stepped in closer, she gently intertwined her fingers with Ian's, quietly, unmistakably reclaiming the space between them.

Yelthara let out a soft laugh, clearly delighted by the response. "Oh, I like you."

She turned to Ian "Let's keep moving, You can tell me which one of these ancient artifacts you're pretending to understand.""

They continued walking together, weaving through the exhibits. Every so often, Yelthara would make a sharp comment or point out something odd, half-sincere, half-mocking.

At one display, she stopped. "I heard a mysterious collector leased a very ancient artifact." Her eyes flicked to Ian.

"You here for that too?"

Ian nodded once. "Yeah." Though he didn't elaborate, he was the mysterious collector, after all.

Yelthara grinned. "If you like it that much, we could always just take it. You and me, think about it."

Ian blinked. "What?"

"I'm joking," she said sweetly. Then added, under her breath, "Kind of."

He gave her a flat look. "You do know there are probably a dozen First and probably even Second Order ascenders in this room, right?"

Yelthara didn't even flinch. "Oh, I know. That's what makes it interesting."

Before Ian could say anything else, another voice cut through the air, familiar, clear, and mildly exasperated.

"Don't fall for her antics."

They turned. Thessalia stood a few steps away, dressed in a deep violet gown that shimmered subtly under the soft lighting, her hair braided in a crown around her head. Refined. Elegant. Watching them with an arched brow.

"I didn't expect the two of you to know each other," she added, stepping closer.

Yelthara peeked from behind Ian's shoulder, half-hiding, then stuck her tongue out at Thessalia with mock defiance. "I'm making friends."

"Trouble, you mean," Thessalia muttered, though there was no real bite in her tone. She looked at Ian and gave him a small, polite nod. "Thank you again, Ian. For earlier. My offer still stands, by the way."

Ian nodded back, then gestured beside him. "This is Myrra."

Thessalia's expression softened as she offered Myrra a quick, respectful nod. A few pleasantries were exchanged, short, polite, nothing more, and then she turned to leave.

But just as she was about to walk away, she paused mid-step and looked over her shoulder.

"You're in Arcane Engineering, right?" she asked Ian. "How good are you with circuit stabilization?"

Ian blinked, then gave a casual shrug. "If it's some low-level stuff, then pretty good."

Thessalia's eyes lit up slightly. "Well… do you have a moment? It's private."

Ian glanced at Myrra, uncertain.

Thessalia picked up on it immediately. "Don't worry. She'll be fine here." She turned and motioned to a nearby attendant. "Make sure she's comfortable. Anything she wants, and keep an eye on Yelthara while you're at it."

Myrra gave Ian a small smile and nudged his arm gently, wordlessly encouraging him to go. Whatever it was, it might be important.

With a short nod to Myrra, Ian followed Thessalia as they made their way through a quieter corridor. She waited until they were a bit farther from the crowd before speaking again. "It's nothing major. Just some stabilizer issues with one of the main circuit arrangements, part of the museum's energy flow system. We had a Master check everything yesterday and it seemed fine then, but it started acting up some time back. Small irregularities."

She glanced at him. "There are some time constraints to bring in anyone else. The exhibit's about to start soon, so if you can take a look, that'd be great. But no pressure if not."

Ian gave a nod. "I'll take a look."

They reached a tall side door near the rear wing of the museum. Inside, the lighting dimmed, the hum of old systems faint in the background. Eryndor was already there, along with others, standing near a complex crystalline circuits into the floor, its lines faintly glowing.

He looked up as they entered, clearly worried. At the sight of Thessalia and Ian, he stepped aside, giving a small, respectful bow.

Ian moved closer to the circuit. At first glance, everything looked fine, no visible cracks, no abnormal pulses. But something felt off.

He activated Mindbloom. His perception widened. The surface was stable, but beneath it, threads of fluctuating current twisted unnaturally. They were subtle, barely visible phase ripples sliding out of alignment at regular intervals.

Then he saw it.

"…There," Ian murmured. "That's what the Master missed. There's a minor phase alignment drift in the second stabilizer node. The local feedback compensates just enough to hide it, but over time, it starts looping out of sync."

Thessalia asked. "Can you fix it?"

Ian gave a short nod. "Yeah. Just need a few minutes."

Ian knelt by the circuits, fingers moving quickly as he adjusted the calibration rings around the stabilizer node. The internal current resisted at first, but with a precise twist and a subtle energy redirect, the loop snapped back into place.

The glow evened out. The hum shifted, steadier, deeper. The system locked into proper rhythm.

One of the staff nearby checked the readings and nodded in confirmation. "Stable."

Thessalia stepped forward. "You're better than good. Thank you, Ian. We'll make sure you're compensated accordingly."

Ian gave a faint nod. "Alright."

He didn't linger. With the system stabilized and his part done, he turned and walked back toward the main hall, quiet and steady as ever.