Remnar
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Chapter 46
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 22:33:41 +0000 UTCErin’s “date” idea seemed a bit complicated to Otter. Granted, liberty requests were outright denied unless they came from a student’s parent, which made going out on the town impossible. But Otter thought they might spend the evening at the Rec Hall or something. He was wrong.
She led him through a winding path behind the lecture halls, fingers curled around his wrist as she guided him. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
“I still don’t see why we had to come all the way out here,” Otter said, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch. “We could’ve just eaten at the usual spot.”
“And been interrupted five times by Milo, Levi, or whoever else wants to talk to you?” Erin shot him a look over her shoulder. “No thanks.”
Otter conceded the point. Privacy was hard to come by at the Academy, and lately, with the heightened security, it felt like he had even less of it.
They finally emerged into a secluded courtyard. Overgrown hedges and abandoned stone benches framed the space, and in the center stood an old, dry fountain covered in moss. The place had a quiet, forgotten feel to it—like it belonged to another time.
Otter let out a low whistle. “Okay, I’ll admit. This is a good spot.”
Erin dropped her satchel onto a bench and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in cloth. “Told you. Now sit.”
Otter sat beside her as she unwrapped the bundle, revealing roasted nuts, dried fruit, and two small hand pies.
He arched a brow. “You made these?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, Otter, I smuggled them out of the mess hall like some kind of pastry thief.”
Otter grinned. “That’s even better.”
They sat in companionable silence, eating as the afternoon sun cast warm light through the ivy above them. It was a rare moment of peace, and Otter found himself appreciating it more than he expected.
“You know,” Erin said, stretching her legs out, “we’re all so busy now, I feel like we barely get to just… exist.”
Otter glanced at her. “Yeah.”
She studied him for a long moment. “And you’re still thinking about the Restricted Section, aren’t you?”
Otter hesitated, then sighed. “I can’t help it. It’s right there, Erin. Whatever answers my father wanted me to find, they have to be there.”
She picked at the crust of a pie. “And what if you don’t like what you find?”
Otter didn’t have an answer for that.
“I just…” Erin exhaled, looking up at the sky. “I don’t want to watch you get so caught up in this that you forget why you came here in the first place.”
Otter furrowed his brow. Finding out what happened to his father was the main reason he was here. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you came here to be an Adventurer. To prove you belong.” She gestured between them. “And you do, Otter. You’ve already proven it. So why does it feel like you’re still looking for something?”
Otter turned the question over in his mind, trying to find the right words. “Because I still don’t have a Class. Yeah, I have friends. People don’t make fun of me anymore, but this feels like something bigger is going on. Something with the System itself. It doesn’t make sense. And I can’t just ignore it.”
Erin studied him, then sighed, leaning back against the stone bench. “I figured you’d say that.”
Otter smirked. “You know me too well.”
“I do.” She nudged him lightly. “Which is why I also know that no matter what I say, you’re going to do what you think is right.”
Otter tilted his head. “And what do you think is right?”
Erin exhaled. “I think you should make more time for things like this.” She turned to face him fully. “For us.”
Otter’s breath caught.
For a second, they just sat there, the tension between them suddenly charged with something unspoken. Erin’s gaze flicked to his mouth, and Otter felt his heart skip a beat.
She hesitated—then slowly leaned in.
So did Otter.
Just as their lips were about to touch, Otter heard a small sound—the barest hint of a cough—off to the side, behind a hedge. He ignored it.
Erin did not. Her eyes flew open, and she was on her feet in an instant, scanning the bushes.
Silently cursing, Otter joined her. He spotted a pair of boots at the base of the hedge. Moving slowly. Quietly. But not silently. A moment later, a head appeared in an opening. Its eyes were scanning, watching. One of the new guards.
Tension left Erin’s stance as she must have come to the same conclusion and she turned back to Otter.
“So much for our secluded spot,” she said, frustration in her voice. And then she began cleaning up the picnic.
***
Otter, Piper, Levi, and Milo sat around a table littered with papers and books. They were in the common room of his dorm. Otter had reserved it just for this meeting, meaning they shouldn’t be disturbed. But if anybody did wander in accidentally, it looked like they were having a group study session.
“So,” Levi said, running a coin along the back of his hand. “Breaking into the most restricted part of the Library, past every security measure the Academy has in place, avoiding the extra guards and whatever else they’ve got set up in there.” He grinned. “Easy.”
Piper shot him a flat look. “You have a very flexible definition of ‘easy.’”
Otter ignored them, leaning forward. “I’ve searched every book I could think of for that symbol on the door and haven’t found a match. If it’s an existing ward, it’s not in the standard archives. It shares some similarities with others, but I can’t make heads or tails of it.”
Milo frowned. “Which means it's either proprietary to the Academy, or something deliberately kept out of reach. Either way, if you point me in the direction of ones with similar elements, I might be able to get some sense of what it does.”
Otter nodded and wrote down the names of the books he’d found. “Okay, next problem. A keystone. I’m pretty sure that will be required.”
“So we’ll steal one,” said Levi.
Milo tapped a finger against his chin. “Do you think those are tied to the individual carrying it?”
Otter shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure. From what I saw, there was an invisible barrier or something that Quisling passed through before using the keystone. Maybe the barrier confirms the identity of the person approaching before they can use the keystone.”
Milo grimaced. “A two-factor authentication system? Wow! That’s… that’s going to be hard to beat.”
Piper groaned. “The biggest problem we have right now is that we know just enough to get ourselves in trouble. If Levi gets hold of a keystone and you try to use it, but you aren’t the person it's keyed to, alarms are likely to start blaring.”
“Yeah,” admitted Otter. “We don’t have room for error here. We can’t afford to experiment. I think we need to assume the worst.”
Levi jumped up and began pacing around the room. “I’ve got it! We just need to get the person with the stone close enough to the door that it’ll deactivate the first ward or whatever, then steal it and use it.”
They all looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“What? I’m serious. All I need is a little distraction so I can swipe it. We do a handoff. Maybe a double handoff, then Otter goes in while the guy’s back is turned.”
Piper’s scowl turned thoughtful. “Hmmm, that seems ridiculously simple, but it could work if the instructor was properly distracted for long enough.”
“It’s still really risky, though. And stealing an instructor’s keystone is a great way to get yourself expelled if you get caught.” Milo was ever the voice of reason.
Otter sighed. “You’re certain there’s no way Dane would let me in if I asked?”
Piper gave him a flat look. “Absolutely not. I heard a third-year ask once. She said, and I quote ‘Even were I six feet under, you would hear my voice from the grave. Noooooo!’ I heard her laughing about it for days afterward.”
“Besides, it’s always better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” added Levi.
Otter rubbed his temples. “Right. So, asking is out.”
Milo exhaled. “We’re missing too many pieces. We need more information before we even think about making a move.”
Piper drummed her fingers against the table. “Then let’s get it. We know the keystones exist. We know faculty carry them. That means we need to figure out who has one and how often they use it.”
Milo rapped his knuckles against the table. “Alright. Let’s divide this up. Piper, you track keystone movement. See which instructors go near the Restricted Section regularly and who actually opens the door.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”
Milo turned to Levi. “You—keep practicing your pickpocket skill. And come up with a clever idea for a distraction. I’ll start digging into the spellwork that might be involved in the second authentication. If we can’t disable it, maybe we can trick it.”
Otter frowned. “That still leaves us with one problem.”
They all looked at him.
He exhaled. “Even if we get past all of this, we still don’t know what’s inside.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be on the clock. How will I even know what to look for?”
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Levi leaned forward, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re the one with the luck. I bet it’ll just fall in your lap.”
***
The days were getting longer, but spring was still far off. Aurelia did not get the extreme winters of some other regions of Pehrun, but a chill still hung in the air.
Otter shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched as he made his way toward the Library.
Things were moving—just not as quickly as he would’ve liked. Piper was still tracking keystone usage, but so far, no instructors other than Quisling had made an obvious, repeatable pattern of visits. Levi had yet to find the right opportunity to steal a keystone without getting caught, and Milo was still trying to decipher the barrier spell on the door.
Which left Otter in a frustrating limbo. His footfalls echoed faintly on the stone pathways as he cut through a quieter section of campus, taking one of the many shortcuts he’d mapped out during his first days at the Academy. He stepped out of a narrow cut between two buildings and froze in his tracks.
The lamplight flickered ahead of him, stretching his shadow long and thin. His heart pounded as he scanned the darkened archways, the shadowed alcoves. Nothing moved.
And yet—
Goose pimples ran up his arms.
A light breeze picked up, and something brushed the back of his neck. He spun around, hand going to his hip, though he carried no weapon. All he saw was a small piece of paper floating through the air. He turned back to the path, when another slip of paper drifted toward him. Then another.
He reached out and caught it. Turned it over. In an immaculate script it read: Strike while the iron is hot.
When he looked back up, more strips of paper fluttered around him. The breeze had picked up even more. Now he was surrounded by tiny pieces of paper, all whirling around him.
He grabbed at another. No time like the present.
Otter’s stomach twisted. He snatched another. Fortune favors the bold.
Another. When one door closes, another opens.
The papers danced around him, caught in the sudden wind. His pulse pounded in his ears. He turned in a slow circle, scanning the courtyard, the rooftops, the shadows beyond the archways. It was hard to see past the swirling cloud of paper. He lashed out with his arms, clearing a space before him.
In that tiny space, he spotted a shadowy figure standing atop a roof, almost imperceptible in the gathering darkness. Watching.
And then it was gone. All of it. The wind, the papers. The figure.
Heart hammering, Otter took off as fast as he could, making a beeline for the Library.
