Chapter 11

About thirty minutes later, after Damien had thoroughly washed himself in the tiny shower, he stepped out of the cave feeling mostly refreshed. The water had done wonders to soothe his aching muscles.

"I wonder where Sylph went," Damien wondered to himself.

"Who cares?" Henry said. "You've got so many things to do, but all you can think about is finding your roommate?"

"What do you mean?" Damien asked. "I thought we were just going to look around the campus."

"You can learn magic!" Henry exclaimed. "Have you forgotten that somehow?"

Damien stopped walking as Henry's words sunk in. The last day had gone by so quickly that he'd barely had time to think about it. A grin crept across his face, and he laughed.

"Seven Planes, you're right!" Damien exclaimed, jumping into the air and pumping his arms. Luckily, there was nobody else on the mountain path with him to see his antics. "How did I forget? I don't need to wait for a stuffy teacher. I can learn now, can't I?"

"Eight," Henry corrected idly. "Not seven."

Damien ignored him.

"That's more like it. I was almost worried something had happened to that foolish thirteen-year-old who summoned me," Henry continued. "There are some things we need to set up first. Also, you might want to stop speaking out loud.

Someone is going to see you."

Damien continued down the mountain, a goofy grin plastered on his face. It faded a little when whispers of Henry's words rose at the edges of his mind. The knowledge of why he needed to learn magic sobered him. It wasn't enough to wash away seventeen years' worth of pent-up excitement, but it was certainly enough to dampen it.

What do I need to do?

"You need a place to train. You shouldn't use the public spaces the student mentioned, at least, not yet. Much of my magic is…discomforting for mortals. It would cast suspicion on us too early. You should make a training area in your room."

What? How?

"That leads us to the first step. The universe is made up of Ether. However, you cannot interact with it right now.

You need to spend time with the Ether until your body absorbs it. The more you can hold, the more powerful you will be," Henry instructed. "Once you can absorb the Ether around you, you'll be able to do basic magic. We can use that magic to carve the stone in your room."

Well, how do I absorb Ether?

"A question asked by mages forever, but I doubt you're seeking the truth of the universe," Henry responded, speaking as if he were talking to a foolish child. "There are stages to mastery over the forces of life. As you currently are, you do not have any connection to the Ether. To develop it, you have to learn a cultivation technique. This will build the basis of how you improve your strength in the future, and it will work until your Core gathers enough energy to evolve."

Evolve?

"We can get to that later," Henry said. "Focus on cultivation for now. A good cultivation method is vital for establishing your foundations for the future."

Fine. I bet the library would have something on it, then!

Damien started off toward the library at a brisk pace.

The last four years of waiting for magic had been torture, but that was finally over. He crushed the worry building in his stomach. Despite the dire situation, his heart beat faster than when he'd gotten his first kiss.

The campus was more crowded than it had been on the previous day. The roads weren't packed, but they were getting close to it. Streams of chattering students rushed to and fro. The road had been split into two, with one line of traffic leading deeper into campus while the other branched away.

Damien straightened and joined the tide of people, doing his best to look like he knew what he was doing. He followed the path to the library, where a significant portion of the other students seemed to be going as well.

He reached the steps leading to the library's enormous doors. They were far too large to be used comfortably. He climbed up the stairs, taking care to watch his feet to make sure he didn't trip.

With the number of people entering the library, Damien had expected the building to be packed. However, when he stepped inside the entrance, it looked deserted. There was a row of about twenty desks with librarians directly in front of him.

The majority of the students headed right past the librarians, disappearing into the huge maze of bookshelves.

Even still, were small lines forming behind each of the desks. Damien joined the shortest one, doing his best not to let his mouth hang open as he took in the library.

It didn't seem possible, but the massive building was even more impressive on the inside. He couldn't even see the roof because of how high in the air it was. Beautifully carved bookcases trimmed with gold and obsidian lined every inch of room on the walls, rising into the sky and disappearing out of sight.

Every once and a while, a book would flutter across the room and dart into a student's hands. Someone nudged Damien in the back, snapping him out of his reverie. The line had gone much faster than he'd expected, and he was now at the front.

With an embarrassed grin, Damien rushed forward to stand before the librarian—a short, round man with a bushy beard. The librarian cocked a fuzzy eyebrow at Damien's flustered expression.

"First time in the library?" he asked in a kind voice.

Damien nodded mutely.

"Good on you, boy. Getting a head start on your training is admirable. Unless you're here for other knowledge…?"

"I'm here to find a book that will show me a cultivation method," Damien said, tearing his eyes from the books to look at the librarian.

"Thought as much," the librarian said, giving him a gap-toothed grin. "The cultivation section is at the back of the library. Just keep walking straight. You can't miss it. And, a word of advice, don't worry yourself too much over which method to choose. They all claim to be the best, and there isn't much of a difference between them beyond how you train. So, find one you think looks interesting and learn it."

"Thank you," Damien said.

"No problem, son," the librarian replied. "My name's Donny. You have any trouble in the library, come find me.

I'll try to get you sorted out."

Damien thanked him again before stepping past the desks and following Donny's directions deeper into the library.

Within minutes, he was surrounded by musky parchment and the smell of oiled paper. Bobbing yellow lights dimly illuminated the passageways, which ranged from enormous roads to alleys made of stacked books so tight Damien had to squeeze through them sideways.

He scanned the book titles as he passed them. They ranged everywhere from instructions on carpentry to ancient recipes. There were a good number of old scrolls dispersed throughout the shelves, and several of them looked like they were one strong breeze from falling apart.

"How can they leave something this fragile out for students to mess with?" Damien asked, his mouth agape as stopped beside a crumbling scroll. There was no title on it, but a tiny metal plaque installed on the shelf below it had a name.

"A treatise on compromise and love," Damien read aloud.

"I can see why they left that one out," Henry said, scoffing. "Worthless."

Damien rolled his eyes and set off once again. He wasn't going to expressly agree with Henry, but his companion had one thing right. He was here for a reason: magic.

"Wait!" Henry yelled, his voice more panicked than Damien had ever heard it. He froze mid-step, not daring to even draw a breath.

"What is it," Damien whispered, forgetting to speak inside his head once again. Idiot.

"Go back a step and look at that book with the purple binding," Henry ordered.

Damien followed his instructions and grabbed the book, pulling it free of the shelf slowly as to avoid bringing the entire thing down on himself.

"I can't read it," Damien said, disappointed. "I can't use this."

"That's the problem," Henry whispered. "I can't read that either."

It took Damien a few seconds to understand the gravity of Henry's words.

"I thought you said you've been watching humans for millennia millennium," Damien said, crossing his arms.

"This book doesn't look all that old."

"Just open it!" Henry snapped. "Maybe it's just the title."

Damien shrugged and flipped through the book, opening it to a page near the middle. It looked like complete gibberish to him, but there were a few runes along the edges of the book that seemed to resemble ones Damien already knew.

"No, no, no!" Henry muttered, talking faster with every word. "This isn't possible! Half of these words don't make sense, and many others are just used incorrectly!"

Damien closed the book and set it back on the shelf.

Henry descended into confused muttering and didn't bother to stop him. He scratched his chin and furrowed his brow as he walked. He stopped only a few paces later.

"Henry?" Damien whispered.

"What?"

"What year is it?"

"What do you mean?" Henry asked. Annoyance radiated off the creature within his mind. "Why would an immortal creature care about something like that?"

"Just tell me the year," Damien pressed. "You claim to know everything that mortals do, so it shouldn't be hard for you. The calendar started counting when humanity made their first summon. How many years ago was that?"

"One thousand and forty-three," Henry replied irritably.

"But I don't see how this will—" "That's wrong," Damien said, shaking his head. "I turned seventeen on the sixth day and the sixth month of five thousand and fifty-two. I was born in five thousand and thirty-five.

"Impossible!" Henry said, but Damien could tell that the creature didn't believe his own words.

"Why would I lie? I don't gain anything from it," Damien said, setting back off toward the back of the library while Henry had a mental breakdown within his head.

"I spent four thousand years traveling from the Void to the Mortal Plane!" Henry muttered as realization finally washed over him. "How much history did I miss?"

"You're immortal, aren't you?" Damien asked.

"As far as I'm aware, yes. But four thousand years, while nothing to me, is enough for entire empires to rise and fall multiple times. It has never taken this long before. So much knowledge lost—" "Wait, before?"

Henry didn't respond.

"I don't see why that matters so much," Damien said, squeezing in between two bookshelves and nearly knocking several musty tomes to the ground. "You just wanted to destroy everything anyway. Why do you care if you missed information?"

"You don't understand," Henry said. His fury and sadness were enough to involuntarily bring tears to Damien's eyes. "Do you know how blessed mortals are?

Creativity is a spark, boy. Mortals are like dry straw lit by that spark. They burn out in the blink of an eye but shine brightly as they do. Immortal beings are more like metal.

We have no spark, so we watch mortals. They create, we control. I have more power than any human could ever begin to dream of, but my magic is simply an improvement on your own."

Damien didn't respond immediately. He wiped the tears from his eyes and glanced around to make sure nobody else was in this section of the library. Luckily, it was so large there was nobody in sight.

"I can see why that would suck," Damien said awkwardly, inwardly cursing himself. He hadn't had much experience consoling other humans, much less otherworldly murderous creatures with a passion for learning. "Not to make what you went through trivial, but you're here now, right? This library is huge. I'm sure we could find the important —" Damien's body went rigid. His shadow bubbled and popped beneath him as dozens of closed eyes appeared within it. They opened as one, revealing gray, milky pupils that were decidedly inhuman.

"Brilliant!" Henry exclaimed. "You're right! We stand in a massive repository of knowledge. It might not be the same as watching everything happen, but I can still learn the important events secondhand!"

"Henry, control yourself," Damien snapped. The eyes blinked closed and vanished in an instant. "And I'm not going to read every book in this library. I'd die of old age long before I got through a quarter of them."

"Please?"

"No. We'll find a list of information the library has later, and then I can read the books you're the most interested in," Damien said, leaving no room for argument. "Now, I want to start learning magic already! The cultivation section can't be much farther so, please, control yourself. I don't want to have to explain why my shadow has more eyeballs than I do."

Henry's response was a grumbling sigh. He faded into the back of Damien's mind, and he continued deeper into the library. Even though he was surrounded by endless rows of books, the library did not become monotonous.

Many of the shelves were twisted and warped, bending over aisles or even blocking them. Somehow, books remained in their proper spots even when they were perpendicular to the ground.

The building seemed to have a character that changed based on the sections. Damien must have passed nearly a hundred sections before he finally came to the first open space he'd seen since he entered the maze of books.

A large hallway stretched out before him, disappearing to the sides. Hundreds of other aisles led up to it, and an equal number of doors lined the other side. There were several chairs and desks placed along the hallway, and a few of them were actually occupied by students.

Inscribed metal plaques burning with magical orange energy had been placed above each door. Damien stepped into the hallway and walked up to one of the doors, peering up at the plaque.

"Cultivation methods: Dance," he whispered to himself.

He squinted up at the piece of metal, but he'd read it correctly. "Dance?"

"It works," Henry replied. "Not for you, though. It's not practical to teach you how to dance. I know you better than you know yourself, and you can't do anything as intricate as this. You're no thin sword meant for beautiful displays. A hammer is what you are, a big, ugly one with spikes."

Thank you.

"Anytime," Henry said cheerfully. "Now, we'll still have to come check this section out. Maybe humans invented some new dance methods while I was on my trip. Until then, look for cultivation methods that are a little simpler."

As it turned out, that was harder than it sounded.

Damien walked past dozens of doors leading to cultivation methods that involved cooking, cleaning, juggling, and an assortment of other equally mundane tasks Henry scoffed at.

"Look over there," Henry instructed Damien, forcing him to turn his head slightly to the side. Really, it was more of a nudge. The contract stopped him from forcibly taking control of Damien's body but giving it suggestions before Damien could counter them was still on the table.

Stop that! It's unsettling when my head turns, and I'm not the one who turned it.

"Stop whining and look!"

"Repetition?" Damien said aloud, drawing glances from the people studying around him. He winced, ducking his head, and gave them a sheepish grin while a blush spread to his cheeks.

"Exactly," Henry said. "Now, that would be perfect."

Why? It sounds…really boring.

"Go look. The method I personally use could be boiled down to repetition if I did a lot of simplifying. Trust me, it's not anywhere near as bad as meditation," Henry said with a groan. "Could you imagine sitting around for half your life, eyes closed and gathering energy? Ugh. Who would torture themselves like that?"

Fine, fine.

Damien reached the door. It was the same dull brown wood as the rest of them, with a plain gray metal handle.

The hinges let out a small squeak as he pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room he'd stepped into was only large enough for a few people to fit in it at once. There was a single desk with two chairs in the center, and all four walls were lined with bookcases only around half full. A few books had been stacked on the table, but nobody else was in the room.

Damien approached one of the shelves, letting the door swing shut behind him. It made another squeak before closing with a click.

"How do I know which one to take?" Damien asked.

"Let me out so I can read them."

"No! What if someone walked in?" he hissed.

"Fine. Then let me use your body for a minute or two.

Unless you want to spend the rest of the day reading these," Henry said.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Damien said, frowning.

"I'm not keen on giving you control over my body. I haven't forgotten what happened the last time I did."

"We have a contract!" Henry said irritably. "I can't do anything you don't want me to, and you can take control back whenever you want."

Damien chewed his inner cheek.

"You can have it for exactly five minutes or until someone walks in. After that, it returns to me, no matter the situation."

His limbs stiffened. It took all his self-control not to shove Henry back and regain control of his body. He couldn't even take a slow breath to steady himself, which made things even worse.

"Calm down," Henry snapped. "Try to move your left hand."

Damien's hand twitched, and he felt Henry's presence recede for a moment before filling him once again.

"See? The moment you try to actually do something, I get booted out," Henry said. "Now —" Damien snapped his fingers. His consciousness rushed forth once again, tossing Henry into the background once again. He wiggled his fingers and rolled his neck.

"What was that for?" Henry asked, mentally poking Damien.

"Just making sure," Damien replied. "You've got five minutes."

He allowed the eldritch creature to regain control of his body. It was still unsettling, but it wasn't as bad this time around. The knowledge he could take the reins back whenever he wanted was reassuring.

Henry grumbled out curses as he picked up the book on the table with Damien's body and scanned the cover.

"Trash," Damien-Henry said, setting the book back down and glancing at the other one before rolling his eyes.

Henry directed Damien over to the bookshelf on the far left wall. He raised a hand and barked out a string of guttural, hissing noises. The lights in the room dimmed.

Inky black tendrils twisted through the air around Damien, straightening out and snapping into straight lines.

The lines twitched and opened outward, revealing pale white and black eyes. They turned to the bookshelves and moved in erratic patterns, stopping in front of each book before zipping back into motion.

Damien couldn't tell what they saw, and he didn't particularly care. He was more preoccupied with the worry someone would walk through the door while disembodied eyes floated around the room.

It turned out Henry only needed two minutes to examine every book in the room. The eyes disappeared with a series of pops. Damien's body walked around the room, pulling books from the shelves and tossing them onto the table without even looking at the titles.

By the time he'd finished, there was a pile of ten books.

Henry sat Damien down in the chair and relinquished control of the body back to its rightful owner.

"There. See?" Henry said. "Easy and fast. I found ten books in the common tongue and actually useful. The others either didn't suit you or were worthless."

"Thank you," Damien said, lifting the first book from the pile. It was leather, with a gold trim that peeled away from the edges. "How do I know which one is the best?"

"There is no best," Henry replied. "It's just a method, and they're all so basic you won't find a difference.

However, everyone is going to have a method that's more suited to them. You need to choose what fits you best."

"I see," Damien said, looking at the book in his hands with a furrowed brow. "And how is 'constant love making' supposed to fit me as a person?"

Henry cackled as Damien rolled his eyes and set the book on the far side of the table.

He picked up the next book. It was also bound in leather, but it had no trim. Thin metal triangles protected the edges of the covers and a layer of dust had permanently settled into it. He brushed the dust away as best as he could, revealing the scuffed title beneath it.

"Body Tempering," Damien read. "That sounds like a lot of exercise."

"Which you need. Or were you wanting to run out of breath trying to lift a girl half your size again?"

Damien scrunched his nose up and flipped the book open. It fit easily in his hand and couldn't have had more than a hundred pages. The paper crackled as he touched it but somehow stayed in one piece.

"You need to start from the beginning," Henry said, mentally nudging Damien to move on. "Don't worry about the methods. Just choose the one whose title seems the most appealing."

"That seems like a terrible idea," Damien said.

Henry didn't respond. Damien sighed and set the book beside the stack. He picked up the next one and continued the process.