Takctoor's Library is immense, explaining the need for an ethereal map.
This helpful feature allows me to navigate the bookshelves, encountering the tomes i intend to read, the topics variating from the different employments and variations the Stats have, to the Embryons, Subclasses, and Beacons.
In my way to a reading room, i sight multiple checkpoints and booths, along receptions at all the entrances of the Library.
Each desk has three members, constituted by an Elder Supervisor with two Librarians of indistinct sex.
Regardless, many assistants are active too, wandering around the facilities, patrolling with watchful eyes over specific areas, preventing the passage of certain Cadets.
Books can contain magic, dangerous glyphs, Summons, and even Souls. Making some of us, unfitted to read determined texts.
The reading room's wing is ahead, and it's divided into Three types. Public, Private, and Tower's Right.
The public area is not distinct to an Old Public Library from Azthea. Long tables with benches, although the seats are padded.
The private rooms are optimized for four, or six people, and it's mandatory to pay Twenty Five or Fifteen Credits per week, and fill the available spots in the room.
I don't have such inconvenience, entering to a spacious room, better furnished than my apartment in Azthea.
Cresseida is inside, sitting on a luxurious black velvet armchair, reading a book that contains a picturesque title, «The twirling touch» by Madame Throllüsath.
The cover couldn't be less graphic, showing the delicate hand of a Mature Dame that has a suggestive grip under the phallic knob of a thick cane.
"Enjoying your work, Cresseida?".
"I do, Young Gentleman". She says calmly, half closing the book, bringing the cover to her cleavage, obstructing the image as a light blush spread across her cheeks. "Although my shift has ended, i wouldn't dare to slack off for nothing less than eight orgasms".
"How specific. It would be a problem if i impart you, more than eight climaxes?". I tease, and Cresseida scoffs, annoyed by how accurate is the sentence.
"Don't be Cocky, Young Gentleman". She remarks playfully, changing her position on the armchair, patting the seat, making space for me. "Arrogance leads to self-destruction".
I take Cresseida's words at heart. My entire behavior has been extremely arrogant, and the acceptance causes my left eye to twitch with the residual spasm from the wound i received due to my own stupidity, and inability to protect myself.
Due to our closeness, the Librarian notice the disparity in my face, her expression turning lovely with and apologetic smile, her fingers coated in green Emts carefully brush the already healed, but previously affected area, matching the uneven tonalities of my old and new skin.
"Rough day, Young Gentleman?".
"No". I chuckle. "Perhaps that is why it bothers me".
She giggles, pecking my left temple, her hand trailing down, tickling my Adam's apple, reaching my defined pectoral muscles.
Cresseida's gaze changes to confusion, her glowing irises observing the blue rhombus with a burst of anger and disgust, her nails lengthen to imitate translucent serpent fangs, scratching the burgundy scales of my Adarga, raising an ethereal layer of green peridot light, an energy that doesn't belong to me, or her.
The Librarian infiltrates the peridot immaterial shade with her green Emts, overwhelming the foreign energy, dissipating it. She continues staring at me, scratching my shoulder with more vigour, repeating the whole process, destroying a neon green film. "Two Track Tags. Young Gentleman. You should be more careful. And the Academy start doing a thorough check up on everyone".
{Isn't that odd?}.
"How come Saavedra didn't notice?".
Cresseida moves her hand lower, touching my groin with insidious insistence. "The Kerran Gydllurn of the Sunderzen House?".
{So that is why her Name is Saavedra, for Sunderzen…}.
"I believe so, Crissy".
"Her Alignment is Coral". The Librarian reveals tapping the growing bulge between my legs. "Coral is the worse and best arrangement the Stats can possibly have, increasing only when each of the Five Stats has gained an equal number of Points".
{Sounds tough}.
I free my manhood from the Adarga, and Cresseida is quick to trail her soft delicate fingers along my virility, showcasing her study session is paying off. "Besides. Real and Royal Alignments, can be spotted and defeated solely by True and Authentic Alignments of the same Stats, again, Coral is an exception, but the Kerran Gydllurn hasn't reached a Full Blazing Zenith, meaning she is unable to detect a Track Tag engrained by a Gift".
{Really?!}.
"I thought she was more powerful".
Licking her lips, Cresseida holds the base of my dick, straightening the shaft as she leans slightly, spitting on the swollen bulbous head, stroking my girth to spread the saliva. "You said it yourself, Young Gentleman. «She Was». But without an Embryon, Level 9 is the limit, and the Subclasses are no longer accessible, including the Stats and benefits they provide".
{Without?}.
"How someone can lose an Embryon?. Or the Embryons are not bound to us until our death?".
Her coquettish amused giggle is totally the type of provocation i like to hear from a woman, and Cresseida seems to have a natural talent to be daring. "The Embryons are tied to us until we Cease To Exist, not to our death, Vurckair".
{Right. I can't die if an Alt'Ver «Kills me»}.
"But. It's different to Bound an Embryon, to Rise an Embryon, to Conquer an Embryon, to Acquire an Embryon, or to Contract an Embryon. In the latter, if you fail to fulfill the clauses you stipulate in the contract, the Embryon is gone, forever. And the majority of Embryons wouldn't want to move into a space that had another owner".
"You mean, the black room in which my Embryons rest?".
"If that is how your First Embryon create the space. Yes".
"Can be changed?".
"Usually not. But some objects can do it. In your particular case, certain materials can be sent there when your Adarga assimilates them".
"I see…". Kissing Cresseida, i rest on the armchair, picking up one of the books i select.
She cuddles, rubbing her hair against my chest and shoulder, like if she were cleaning any possible residues of the Track Tags.
Her tempting slow handjob continues teasing me, and she doesn't stop reading her colourful, interesting book. Which is actually about massages, not solely focused on the Happy Ending some therapist in Azthea offer if they are tipped properly…