Greatreq
Elena stood in front of the grand arched entrance of the upper-floor library, blinking up at the golden inscription etched above the doorway: "In Words, the World." The lettering shimmered faintly in the morning light filtering through the stained glass windows lining the hallway.
She muttered under her breath, "In words, the world... or in words, just headaches."
"I heard that," Liora said with a small smile, stepping beside her, arms folded. She'd changed into a simpler mage's robe today, deep blue with silver trim. Her blond curls were braided, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Please tell me today's lesson doesn't involve math," Elena pleaded, clasping her hands together. "I barely survived learning the crown conversion system last week."
Liora smirked. "Today we dive into something more thrilling: politics and governance."
"Of course. I can't wait," Elena said in her driest voice. She followed Liora into the quiet, wood-scented library.
The room was massive. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stood like sentinels, stretching across multiple corridors. Dozens of alcoves held study desks, and here and there, academy mages, scribes, or common students pored over tomes or scribbled furiously into parchment journals.
Liora led her toward a secluded corner, where two cushioned chairs and a low round table stood by a tall window. A stack of books was already waiting.
"I hope that isn't all for today," Elena said, eyeing the tower of leather-bound volumes.
Liora merely shrugged as she handed her a book titled 'The Kingdom of Virelia: A Governance Primer for Apprentices'.
Elena cracked it open. The first line read:
"The Council of Thirteen holds dominion over the royal charter and kingdom law. However, the nobility holds the coffers."
She groaned. "That doesn't sound ideal."
"It's not," Liora said. "Virelia's power structure is split. There's the monarch, Queen Lyselle, who reigns from the capital, and then there's the Council—mages, scholars, trade guildmasters, and three noble houses."
"And they all argue, I assume?" Elena asked, flipping the page.
"Constantly," Liora replied. "But here's the thing. Each sector of the Council is funded differently. The mage towers, for instance, receive an annual grant of 12,000 gold crowns from the royal treasury. In contrast, trade guilds fund themselves through tariffs and levies. Nobility? They control land and take crop taxes—usually about 6 silver crowns per adult commoner per month, or 60 silver per peasant household annually."
"That's…" Elena paused to calculate. "So if one gold crown is ten silver crowns, that's like... six gold per year per household?"
"Exactly. But only a portion goes to the kingdom. The rest lines the nobles' pockets."
Elena leaned back. "So corruption is baked into the structure."
Liora's smile held a note of admiration. "You're catching on quickly."
They moved to the next chapter, which described the "Common Law Code of Virelia." Elena frowned as she read about how legal disputes were settled—often by paying fines based on one's class. A merchant might be fined 3 silver crowns for insulting a noble. A commoner? Ten silver. And a noble could simply pay 1 gold and be done with almost any misdemeanor.
"That's not justice," Elena said. "That's... just shopping your way out of crime."
Liora chuckled. "You're not wrong. The penal system is more affordable for the rich."
"And the poor?"
"If they can't pay, they serve their sentence through labor. Usually in quarries, weaving halls, or military kitchens. Ten days for every silver crown owed."
Elena felt a cold knot in her stomach. "So a commoner who can't pay a ten silver insult fine might be indentured for over three months."
Liora nodded. "Worse if you add food and lodging deductions during service."
Elena shook her head. "That's... brutal."
"This is why revolts aren't rare. That's why the Queen had to introduce the Common Contract Act last year—to limit the nobles' rights over tenant labor."
"How much is an average worker paid anyway?" Elena asked, flipping to the appendix.
Liora pointed. "Here. Skilled laborers—like blacksmiths or certified alchemists—can earn 15–25 silver crowns per week. Apprentice mages at the Academy receive 7 silver crowns stipend per week, and teachers like Master Helian earn up to 40 silver weekly. But for unskilled workers? It's 2–5 silver crowns per week, depending on location."
"So... a peasant family would need a whole week of wages to pay one insult fine."
"If they're lucky to earn that much," Liora said gently.
Elena frowned. "So my job as a book sorter pays what, again?"
"Four silver crowns per week," Liora said. "Because it's part-time, and subsidized by the tower."
Elena leaned back. "I'm getting underpaid."
"You're getting a student's wage," Liora corrected.
"But I'm not even an apprentice!" Elena protested.
"You're a guest. Be glad we don't make you pay tuition," Liora teased.
The lesson continued, but it didn't feel dry. With every discussion, Elena felt like she was seeing more of the world—its cracks, its rules, and the tiny levers of power that shaped daily life. She also noticed the way Liora's eyes lingered on her sometimes, as if curious what she would say next.
At one point, Elena asked, "So what happens if someone powerful wants to change all this?"
Liora's gaze became unreadable. "They'd have to rewrite the laws. Or start a war."
Elena swallowed. "I... see."
They studied until afternoon shadows crept across the pages. When they finally packed up, Elena's head was spinning with information, but her curiosity burned brighter than ever.
As they walked back down the winding stairs, Elena asked, "So when do I get to learn magic again?"
"Soon," Liora promised. "But you needed to understand what the system is... before you ever learn how to bend it."
---
I Asked for Bread, Not an Arcane Lecture
Elena stood outside the bakery with flour still stuck to her cheek, her thoughts tangled between the scent of fresh loaves and the tangled explanation Marla had given her on mana-infused yeast.
Who knew bread could be magical? Quite literally.
"I swear, everything in this town glows or hums," Elena muttered to herself as she stepped back onto the cobbled street.
After three days of assisting in the bakery, she'd earned a full silver crown and twelve copper—generous considering she'd mostly cleaned pans and tried not to sneeze in enchanted flour. At first, she had questioned why Marla would pay that much when common help usually earned five to eight copper a day. But then she found out that the bakery was frequented by spellcasters who placed enchantments on pastries—whether for focus, healing, or just better dreams.
"Don't ask how, just stir clockwise," Marla had warned her with a wink.
Elena had nodded along but was very sure she had stirred counter-clockwise at least once, which probably explained why one customer left muttering that her scone made him cry uncontrollably for twenty minutes.
She tightened the string pouch at her waist, coins clinking softly as she walked. With a bit of savings now, she could afford a few things she'd been eyeing. Her shoes were barely hanging together by a prayer. She needed thread, maybe parchment and ink, and possibly—if she dared—a better coat. The mornings were getting colder.
"Two copper crowns for a loaf… one silver and five copper for an alchemy-grade butter brick," she murmured, reviewing prices as she passed market stalls. "Three silver for a cheap mana stone. Eight silver for a tiny self-warming kettle? That's—what?"
She stopped before a shimmering glass case housing tiny enchanted tools, from self-sweeping brooms to weather-reporting spoons.
"Ahem," said the elderly vendor, whose mustache curled upward like a villain from an old cartoon. "Everything here is guaranteed to last a lifetime or explode dramatically. Either way, you'll remember us."
Elena backed away slowly.
And then, as if summoned by mischief itself, Liora appeared at her side.
"Contemplating the explosive spoon, are we?" Liora said, her voice low and playful.
Elena jumped. "Spirits, you move like a shadow!"
"You're the one gawking in broad daylight," Liora replied, tucking a lock of white-gold hair behind her ear. "Thought you might need a guide. Or a bodyguard. Or a distraction."
"I need… probably all three," Elena admitted. "I was going to check out the scribe's shop next. I want to start copying down everything I've been learning. My head's going to burst if I don't."
Liora's eyes softened. "Smart. Come on, I know a place that sells secondhand materials—better prices and fewer enchanted writing quills that try to correct your spelling mid-word."
They walked together, Liora keeping her usual half-step closer than necessary. Elena tried not to be flustered.
"I've been reading some of the old textbooks in Marla's backroom," Elena said after a while. "There's one about mana theory. It says there are 'internal' and 'external' circuits in a person's body? That most people can't cast unless they've formed a proper internal loop?"
Liora raised a brow. "That's advanced. Most don't get into circuit theory until mage training."
"I just want to understand how this world works," Elena said, brushing hair from her face. "I don't have magic, but I want to know how people think, what they value. It feels like everything revolves around it."
"That's because it does," Liora said simply. "Magic is currency here. Almost literally. A trained caster can earn ten silver crowns a week, sometimes more if they join a House. And nobles… well, they hoard magic like it's made of gold."
Elena frowned. "Then what happens to people who don't have magic?"
"They scrub pans, clean stables, or serve those who do. Like in most societies." Liora's tone was clipped, but her expression had gone quiet. "But not everyone chooses to live under a House's roof."
They arrived at a humble, wood-framed shop with a crooked sign: Thorn & Quill: Scribes, Scrolls, & Snark.
The owner was a sharp-eyed woman who, upon seeing Liora, said, "You again? Don't knock over my ink rack this time."
"That was a cat, I told you," Liora shot back, grinning.
Elena laughed as they entered. Shelves were filled with parchment bundles tied with twine, secondhand ink pots, and writing implements of every kind—including a very sulky-looking feather that glared at her when she picked it up.
"For two silver, you can get a beginner's kit," the shopkeep offered. "Quill, small ink pot, and ten parchment sheets. Used, but clean."
Elena winced. "That's… all I have left, pretty much."
"Tell you what," said the woman, glancing between Elena and Liora. "If she promises not to flirt and knock over my inventory again, I'll give you a discount. One silver, seven copper."
Elena blinked.
Liora immediately raised her hands. "I promise nothing."
Still, the deal was made. Elena left the shop clutching her new kit like it was treasure.
As they walked, Elena asked, "Do you know anything about the note I found? The one that was left in my bag?"
Liora's mood shifted instantly—sharp, like a storm pulling in.
"You still have it?" she asked.
Elena nodded. "Yes. I hid it inside my boot for now."
"Don't read it aloud. Don't even open it in front of anyone. Some ink is enchanted to reveal text only under certain triggers. If it is what I think it is…"
"What do you think it is?" Elena pressed.
But Liora didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned them down a quiet alley.
"There are factions within the kingdom—groups that oppose the current ruling Houses. They're always looking for people who show strange signs. Outsiders. Unregistered mana pulses. You might've triggered something. Maybe unintentionally."
Elena's stomach dropped. "What kind of factions?"
"The kind that get you followed. Or recruited. Or disappeared."
They stared at each other. And then, as if to punctuate the mood swing, Elena's stomach growled loudly.
Liora blinked. "…Rebel threats and espionage aside, have you eaten today?"
"I had three cinnamon crumbs and a mana scone that made me cry," Elena said miserably.
"Come on. I know a place that serves non-magical bread. It's almost disappointing."
They walked again, the serious mood ebbing with each step.
---
[End of Chapter 15]