"You’re inviting me too fast, like rushing downstream; you just came out of the Dark Realm."

"I won’t agree, not ever; a newborn spell means nothing to me, like a flower I won’t pluck."

"But you’re a Spellcaster, with that title pinned like a badge."

"Being a Spellcaster or studying magic isn’t reason enough for me to chase the unknown. I like reaping the harvest, sitting alone in a library, leafing through pages like quiet rain."

Evelyn sat in the passenger seat, her thoughts drifting back to her talk with Hedi like smoke curling.

She was truly contrary; I’d sensed it when she revealed Dark Magic—she showed no shock, face still as a lake.

Before unfamiliar magic, she differed from other Spellcasters at the root, like stone against water.

Or did she already know Dark Magic, like tracing old constellations?

By her words about the unknown, not knowing and not asking is normal, like closing a door in fog.

If I publicly lay out the principles of blood-control magic one day, she’ll lick the paper’s corners like a kitten at milk.

She only walks the roads paved by predecessors—Melvina, I’ve overestimated you, like mist taking shape.

Evelyn rubbed her chin, heart and words at odds like crossed currents. "Want to nap? I’ll wake you when we get home."

Hedi watched the night stream past the window, then turned at the voice to meet Evelyn’s eyes in the rearview, like stars catching. "Don’t be fooled; I’m cranky when woken." She shifted, easing sleeping Selina onto her shoulder like a bird roosting.

"I figure the car suits rest, like a rocking cradle."

"Looks like you haven’t lived on the road," Hedi said with a wistful smile, voice like wind over grass. "Getting yanked from a dream hurts like cold water."

"Why?"

"Think: you open your eyes in a car and it isn’t home, like waking in a stranger’s room. To truly rest, you still have to walk a stretch, feet tapping like rain. On the way, your mind only sharpens, and by the time you hit the bed, sleep’s gone like smoke. Better to rein in drowsiness from the start and, back home, sleep like a storm till dawn."

"I thought being a Professor was easy, like sitting under shade."

"It is easy, sort of; this is just my take on sleep," Hedi said with a rueful smile, like dusk after rain. In her last life, she worked late nights, like a candle guttering.

The steam car sped along a desolate road, over countless hills like waves, snaking along a dry riverbed, then through a barren land pricked with cacti and heath.

As the endless drive stretched on like a long drumbeat, the sky’s color shifted; the sunset’s rim faded, and deep night seeped in like ink.

The air turned sharp and cold, like knives in fog.

Hedi closed the window, a sigh cooling her chest like frost. Selina’s whole head leaned on her shoulder, heavy as fruit. She slept deeply; under the ambient light, her gentle face flickered, a Baroque silhouette fine as lace.

"You take good care of Selina, like a lantern in wind."

"About that—what’s her surname? Is it also Selina?"

Evelyn popped the glove box open like a shell. "Viola. Her sister’s Olivia Viola; using the surname makes her think of her sister, like a bell tolling."

"You all know?"

"A small circle knows," Evelyn said, tapping the driver’s shoulder like a warning drum. "Don’t spread it!"

"Of course! Before coming, I wondered why Selina went to the Shattered City; so it was for her sister, like a compass point."

Hedi watched Evelyn in the rearview, thoughts rustling like leaves. No wonder she’s the vice dean: she drops a secret known to few as if casual, then seals the man’s mouth at once, like snapping a fan shut.

If it were me, I’d be angry at any leak, temper flaring like sparks.

But she stays steady; Dark Magic’s grip on emotion is no small thing, like iron rings around a barrel.

Speaking of Dark Magic—forget it. Even if asked, she’ll deflect with the tangled schools of standard magic, like ivy over a wall. Admit it directly, and people take you for a witch, like moths naming fire.

A human who can wield Dark Magic and a witch who wields Dark Magic are two very different beasts, like shadow and flame.

Hedi patted her cheeks, chasing off drowsiness like cold splashes. "When we left the Shattered City, what was that little sphere you tossed beside the Dark Realm?"

"It stops the Dark Realm from siphoning mana, like corking a bottle. Without mana to hold its shape, it drops fast to its initial C-class."

"Close it then?"

"We won’t close it; the Shattered City’s already a dead city, empty as a husk, hurting no one."

"Right, I forgot—you study the Dark Realm, like charting storms."

"We’ll research it when its danger dips, like low tide. Before that, we’ll scout the Dark Realm about to wake."

"Wake?"

"It’s like hibernation: the Dark Realm opens periodically. This opening differs from a forced one, and it shuts again quickly, like a blink."

"Won’t it affect folks nearby?"

"I’ve stationed Investigators around it, like watchfires. They read the mana’s wavering to predict the wake and evacuate residents early. Endure the first surge, and the Corrosion won’t touch the body."

"So Selina’s sister is also an Investigator?"

"No."

Hedi felt a ripple of confusion, like a pebble in a pond.

When we entered, the guards said a researcher opened the Dark Realm, like a key turning. The difference between researcher and Investigator is murky, like silt in water. Every Dark Realm has Investigators; how could a stranger be allowed to force it open, like breaking a seal?

Their stories differ, and as vice dean she must know why, like one who holds maps. Not an Investigator, yet able to open the Shattered City’s Dark Realm... does that mean it’s a secret known to few?

If so, asking would be rude, like stepping on a threshold with muddy boots. I’m an outsider; prying into an internal secret would be shameless, like lifting floorboards.

"Why so quiet—sleepy?"

"Just thinking... why Selina’s sister opened the Dark Realm, like pulling a gate."

"To make big money, what else? The Dark Realm holds treasures beyond counting, like a buried reef. Even Investigator crystals are minerals from inside."

"So it’s not the first forced opening of a Dark Realm, from what you’re saying, like doors with worn hinges."

"Human vice runs that way, like weeds through stone."

"They move fast," Hedi said, gazing at the scenery flowing past like a river. "A forced opening gets the news sealed. If I hadn’t gone to the Shattered City, I’d never know in this life, like mist beyond a wall."

"Why did you go to the Shattered City?"

"To observe the Dark Realm with Investigators beside me, like lanterns in a cave."

"Reconsider my proposal?"

"Pass. My curiosity’s satisfied—over-satisfied—with a life-and-death scrape inside, like walking the edge of a blade!"

The steam car eased down, like a beast tiring, and stopped by a wide road.

Across the street, the opera had just ended; lavish light spilled from half-open doors like honey, gilding marble steps. Cloaked gentlemen in high hats flowed out, mingling with the steam erupting from pipes like fog.

"People watch plays this late, like owls at dusk."

"A midnight show, like a moonlit tide."

Hedi adjusted Selina’s posture, settling her on the seat cushion like a feather, then cracked the door with care, thanked Evelyn, and ran toward the apartment building like a swallow.

Evelyn watched Hedi slip into the elevator, then signaled the driver to pull away, like a hand waving off a tide.

The steam car’s amber gas lamps lit the road ahead and the buildings on both sides, like lanterns on a caravan.

Massive iron pillars, tangled pipes and gears, and chain-driven shop signs slid backward outside the window, like a river of metal.

"You want to invite her to study the Dark Realm, like beckoning a star?"

"Find a chance to send Selina to her place," Evelyn said, pulling a magazine from the glove box like a card. "She has no right to refuse, like a contract sealed."

"Wouldn’t an experienced Investigator be better, like a seasoned helm?"

"Only Selina. No one else will do, like a key that fits one lock."

"But Selina’s expertise—"

"Shut up," she snapped, words like a blade.

The driver worked the control lever in silence, hands moving like clockwork.

Evelyn reopened the topic on her own, voice steady as a metronome: "Selina and Melvina forged a deep friendship in the Dark Realm, like iron in a forge."

"A life-and-death bond, like brothers-in-arms?"

"Has anyone told you you talk in circles, like a mill wheel?"

"Sorry, my head’s not bright, like a dim lamp."

"Forget it; just do as I say," Evelyn said, flipping the magazine open like a fan. "At the end there’s divination, predicting whether a thing goes smoothly, like tossing lots."

"It’s all fake, like paper tigers."

"Right, it’s words that fit any reading, like clouds shaping themselves. But why do so many believe? They want a shot of courage, like bitter tea."

The driver was silent for a beat, then asked, hesitant as a moth: "What did this book divine?"

"Let me see," Evelyn flipped to the last page fast, like a flick of wings. "Dreams come true—now that’s a good phrase, like sunlight through clouds."