Verse Six
Winslow dropped by the hospital. CK attempted to guilt-trip him to get her some medicine for her injuries, which was hardly impressive to the young man. However, out of his own manners and to avoid too many questions, he decided to indulge her and get her what she needed.
Once he had the medicine, Winslow phased away and arrived at the restricted section of the library. CK was resting on a cushioned couch, snacking on a pancake with a little too much syrup on top. Winslow paused and frowned at this scene.
"Since when did she…" Winslow trailed off. Didn't she say she was too weak to move and see herself to the hospital for treatment?
"I need more syrup," CK muttered sadly. "Tsk," Winslow said in irritation as he approached, "Clearly, you're not too weak to get your own medicine if you can visit the cafeteria for a snack."
"Hm? Oh, no, I was totally weak, but starving is even worse! Now that I'm not hungry anymore, I could go to the hospital. Buuuut since you already did that, I don't have to anymore," CK grinned.
"You urged me to go to the hospital 'as soon as possible'," Winslow pointed out. "And I'm very grateful. You're so nice, tee-hee. What would I do without you?" CK grinned wider.
"Whatever," Winslow placed the bag of medicine next to her and sat across the table, "Fix yourself up once you're done sniffing the syrup out of your pancakes."
"There's not even enough syrup left for me to 'sniff out'," CK rolled her eyes. "That's because you already did," Winslow retorted. How does she even enjoy that much amount of sugar without the need for water?
CK finished her pancakes heartily and cleaned her bloodied scratches. But for the burns she sustained on her back, she had to drink a formula that will take at least thirty minutes before kicking in. She had to discard her school jacket and change into a tank top to avoid grazing the painful burns.
"Much better," CK muttered in relief and leaned back on the couch, only to hiss when her burns touched the backrest, "Ouch! Tsk…"
She sighed and propped an elbow on the table, resting her chin on a palm in the process. "I'm in a better mood now. So, what do you want to ask?" CK asked, "Actually, let me go first: How did you find me? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the graduation rites?"
"The rites will just be a set of honorary tests so it shouldn't be difficult for everyone to pass," Winslow answered, "It was supposed to be my free time, but I was occupied with interviews from the professors about you. They said they needed information for your trial this weekend. Also, it wasn't difficult to find you. You weren't trying to hide yourself, so a simple incantation did the trick."
"I figured it shouldn't hurt to get answers out of you instead but clearly, I was wrong about that," he grimaced at the sight of CK's injuries. They were looking better, but they could've been worse if he didn't show up.
"I hope you made it clear to them that we're absolutely enemies. It'd be awkward if I'm the only one asserting my bitterness," CK giggled, causing Winslow to roll his eyes.
"Yeah, right. Anyway, it's my turn to ask questions," he said and crossed his arms, "What were you doing inside the Maiden's Tower? And on floor 3, nonetheless?"
"I was trying to clear the tower," CK shrugged. "Wha…Clear the tower?" Winslow was taken aback, "Are you an idiot? Have you finally lost it?"
"No?" CK answered doubtfully. "CK, the tower is prohibited for a reason. Only wordsmiths that are in the Saltare Chapter or higher can enter. I'm even surprised that you managed to get as far as floor 3 before almost losing your life," Winslow glared, "You should be focusing on defending yourself on your trial instead of wreaking havoc in one of the Nonaphrontistery's most important defenses."
"Why? It's not like I'm guilty of anything," CK shrugged. "You pleaded guilty, according to Madam Yanyan. If you're not guilty, then why plead so? Just to spite the professors?" Winslow asked.
"That's pretty much the case, yeah," CK smiled, causing Winslow to murmur to himself. "Look, the trial is not a big deal like everyone's making it to be. It's just a cute attempt at causing a misunderstanding," CK said.
"Am I supposed to assume that you have your reasons for keeping silent?" Winslow asked. "Yes," CK answered seriously, "I'm not telling this to anybody else except you, but master's comatose was not due to his health. I need to buy time to make sense of what's happening, and the trial is just what I need."
Winslow's brows furrowed. "Then why don't you tell one of the other professors?" he asked. "Because if I'm going to fail, I'll drag you down with me," CK smirked, "That's what enemies do with one another, after all."
Winslow sighed. "Let's put that aside for now," he said, "I'm assuming that the tower is the key to your objectives?"
"Yes. But it seems that I overestimated myself," CK said, "My level was not high enough for floor 3. Like you said, a wordsmith of Syntax Level III can pass through. Any lower than that, and you'll be executed by the chimera in floor 3."
The proficiency of a wordsmith is judged in ranks called Syntax Levels, which are also called 'Chapters'. Wordsmiths in the Sermo Chapter (Syntax Level I) are those whose proficiency is still lacking, thus need the assistance of tools and can only use skills if a spell is spoken or sung.
Many of CK's batchmates are at the peak of Syntax Level I, but only CK, Winslow, and a few more others have broken through and entered the Abraxas Chapter (Syntax Level II). These are the wordsmiths who can cast skills without necessarily having to recite a spell.
In CK's case, an illustration or writing with her glass pen is enough to conjure a skill. But that wasn't enough for clearing floor 3. What more of the higher floors?
CK grimaced. It took her a year to advance from Sermo to Abraxas. It is almost impossible right now for her to advance to Saltare to clear the tower. Was she chasing a pipe dream? Should she just leave the case to Professor Erzem?
"There was a chimera?" Winslow asked curiously. "A nasty big one. Maybe if I brought you with me as hostage, I could've kept the chimera occupied enough to get to floor 4," CK sighed, "You managed to breeze through floor 2, after all… Not that it was that challenging."
"Don't overestimate me next. My skills are on the same level as yours. I only managed to get to floor 3 with the help of the angels. If I was left there, I would be on the same situation you are in now," Winslow shook his head as he admitted to the power scaling.
"Don't your angels share the same power level as you?" CK asked. "Not necessarily. Although the angels I can invoke answer to me, their abilities are greater than mine. It's just the kind of angel and their quantity that I get to summon that is limited by my current abilities," Winslow replied, "I can only summon two of them at best."
"And only one of them was needed to break into floor 3's environment," CK mused, "Forget the rest of your holy crew. Just two of them already makes you overpowered. Haha! As expected of Winslow the Great!"
"Stop. Just stop," Winslow cringed, "If I were you, I'd make sure to win my trial. The professors are extremely occupied at the moment. Try to take advantage of that."
"What do you mean, 'extremely occupied'?" CK asked with a frown. Winslow hesitated before deciding to divulge some answers.
"Miss Dulia and I spoke just this morning. The Nonaphrontistery's expedition armada was attacked by members of The Juris," he said. CK blinked in surprise, "You're kidding. How did they manage to attack the armada successfully?"
"That's what the school would like to know. The faculty members received orders from the administration to head to the site of the outbreak and prevent the Juris from taking over the armada," he spoke quietly, then glared, "You better not reveal this to anyone else. It could throw the Nonaphrontistery into chaos."
CK was silent. The Juris was an infamous interstellar organization that made their hostility towards wordsmiths very clear. They were active until five years ago, after the establishment of the LaCroix Empire. It can be said that they are wary of the forces of the Empire, but the Empire also has reasons to stand guard against the Juris. Although many gods and pantheons aligned themselves with the Empire, there are also those who sided with the Juris. Not plenty, but it doesn't hurt to be careful.
The Nonaphrontistery was not aligned with the Empire, but they have reasons to be wary now that the armada under the school was attacked by them. It doesn't help that the Nonaphrontistery was a school made to train wordsmiths. But why make themselves known now?
CK frowned. "The timing is too good to be considered coincidence," she muttered. Winslow turned to her, "What does that mean?"
"Hm… Nothing. At least, nothing you can't figure out on your own," CK mused mysteriously. Winslow deadpanned, "So you like to speak in riddles now?"
"It's something master does if he wants me to stop butting into his business," CK shrugged. "Hmph," Winslow snorted.
He watched as CK stood up and stretched again. "Anyway, time's up! Hopefully, you'll keep quiet about the tower incident. I gave you some information, and you gave me some. Let's put this behind us, alright?" CK said.
"You have my word," Winslow nodded. "Great. I'm headed back to rest now. See ya," CK winked before phasing away. Winslow frowned and turned to the table. She left her plate behind.
Not only was she lazy, but she was also an excessive bit of a liar. CK's destination was not her dormitory room, but Professor Erzem's office. She initially thought of resting, yes, but something about the conversation with Winslow gave her an idea.
The sun was setting, and the curfew was soon to kick in. CK looked around, smelling the herbal fragrance of her master's favorite incense. But she has seen this room many times before, and there was nothing remarkable to say about the room without her master inside it.
CK turned an emotionless gaze to the glass windows. Extending a palm towards them, she chanted a spell, "Blur the windows."
A few seconds passed and fog began to condense on the glass panes, covering it in frost and snowflakes to crystallize upon its surface. CK turned her attention to the carpet beneath the coffee table and couches before Professor Erzem's desk.
She gestured her hand to the side, causing the couches and coffee table to swipe towards the same direction and leaving nothing else on top of the carpet. CK stared at it. Professor Erzem was never fond of any classic patterns or flamboyant displays, but his carpet was a neat tapestry of different shades of brown and intricate designs.
CK inscribed the same pattern unto the air, watching as the threads glowed. "Oboedite mihi," CK placed a palm before the levitating pattern, "Summon the Chalk Prison."
The pattern suddenly glowed white before dispersing into fine bits of powdered chalk that froze mid-air. CK stared as the chalk dust gathered and to form a large bird cage. It flashed momentarily, and the cage of dust turned into polished ivory.
Inside the white bird cage was a translucent man whose hair was as dark as nothingness, almost similar to vantablack. His golden eyes were a stark contrast like two yellow stars that survived the swallowing of a black hole. Kneeling down, the man was bound by chains clasped unto the ceiling of the cage. Chalk dust adorned the floors of the cage like decorations upon a statue that an artist finished carving.
CK crossed her arms as the man slowly lifted his gaze towards her. His smirk was as wide as the Cheshire Cat's, full of triumph and amusement that is not common among prisoners.
<Ah. Little CK.> he chuckled deeply as his gaze glowed eerily, <I told you that would be back soon.>