Closer to midnight, Marcel fell asleep. Cassian gathered the leftovers of the food and put them into the box with the freezing magic crystal. Then he opened the window to air out the room. The hot summer day had finally given way to a cool night. Fresh wind rushed in through the open window. Cassian wrapped himself in a blanket and quickly fell asleep.
A small bell hanging on the wall by the door rang. Inside it was a tiny magic stone tuned to vibrate once a day. That was how the local alarm clock worked. Cassian and Marcel reluctantly woke up. The ringing meant one thing — it was already seven in the morning.
The calm cool night was gradually giving way to the noise of the city. Through the open windows came the voices of people hurrying about their business. The creaking and clanking of wooden and steel machines powered by steam engines combined with magic could be heard. Into the sky rose air balloons, airships, and strange flying constructs that resembled seafaring sailing ships but were adapted for flight with the help of magic.
The city was waking up. Warm sunlight already filled the room. The guys got out of bed and washed up.
After breakfast, they went their separate ways.
"See you later," Marcel waved and left the house first. "Yeah, bye," Cassian waved back.
Marcel didn't attend university, so he worked every day. Cassian, however, had to be at the university by nine this morning. After lunch he also had a side job — he worked as a history tutor.
Cassian stepped out onto the street, entered one of the buildings, and went up to the roof where the air stop was located. As usual, he bought a ticket and waited. A few minutes later an air balloon arrived. Cassian jumped in, and half an hour later he was already at the university.
After attending two classes, closer to two in the afternoon he headed home. Professor Joseph was flying in the same aerial vessel with him. Cassian saw him often since they lived in the same district, but they almost never spoke.
When he got home, Cassian quickly ate and set off to his student. By the time he finished the tutoring session, it was already six in the evening. The trip back home by air vessel took about fifty minutes. However, on the way Cassian decided to stop by the library to pick up another book on ancient artifacts. Because of that, he only returned to his district by eight in the evening, when it was almost completely dark.
There weren't many people on the street anymore. It was about a five-minute walk to the house. Suddenly, from one of the narrow alleys, a man in a black robe ran out. His hood had fallen back, and Cassian immediately recognized him. It was Professor Joseph. He was running straight toward him at full speed.
Apparently, the professor recognized Cassian too. Right after him, two more people burst out of the same alley. Their faces were covered with scarves. The professor ran directly toward Cassian and, as if by accident, crashed into him. Both of them fell to the ground.
"What's going on, Professor?" Cassian asked.
"I entrust it to you," the professor whispered quickly, then jumped up and ran off.
The two pursuers didn't even pay attention to Cassian and continued chasing Professor Joseph.
Cassian slowly got up from the ground. When he stood and looked around, neither the professor nor the two men were anywhere to be seen.
Cassian was wearing wide trousers and a white long-sleeved shirt — the way he usually dressed. Suddenly, in his right hand he felt something foreign that hadn't been there before. He rolled up his sleeve and looked at his wrist.
On his hand was a black bracelet. Exactly the same one he had seen on Professor Joseph's wrist in the library yesterday. The bracelet looked as if it consisted of thousands of thin black threads, each of which rotated around his wrist on its own.
Cassian was surprised, but he immediately pulled his sleeve back down, hiding the bracelet under the fabric. He tried to act normal and walked home at a brisk pace.
When he opened the door to the apartment, Cassian immediately smelled something unpleasant.
"Ugh, Marcel, what's that smell?" he said, pinching his nose with his hand.
"It's all your owl," Marcel replied.
"What happened here?" Cassian asked.
"Remember this morning I fed the owlet two medium-sized mice?" Marcel said calmly. "Young owls have a fast metabolism. That's what his droppings smell like."
Cassian calmed down a little.
"Did you already open the window?"
"Yeah, I opened it. I just got back myself not long ago," Marcel answered.
"So what do we do now? Didn't they give you instructions on how to care for owls at the shop where you bought him?" Cassian asked.
"Yeah, I know what to do," Marcel replied. "I'm going to open the cage now. Watch so the owlet doesn't do anything stupid. By the way, he still can't really fly. That's what they told me at the shop."
"Okay, go ahead and open it," Cassian said. "By the way, how old is he exactly?"
"He's only a month old," Marcel said.
"Of course I imagined owls being big, but not this size already at one month…" Cassian thought.
"Yeah," Marcel said and abruptly opened the cage door.
The owlet immediately jerked.
"Here, take him," Marcel said, looking at Cassian.
"What? Why do I have to take him? You take him!" Cassian replied.
"No way. This is your owl," Marcel said.
Cassian exhaled in annoyance.
"Fine, whatever," he said and walked over to the cage.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Marcel stopped him. "Put on the leather glove first."
He pointed to the table, where a large leather glove really was lying.
"Put it on your left hand," Marcel said.
Cassian put on the glove and carefully brought his hand closer to the cage. The owlet got scared at first, but then suddenly jumped onto his hand.
"Damn, what a grip. His talons feel stronger than my hand," Cassian thought.
"There, hold him and don't let go," Marcel said. "I'll go down to the first floor and clean the cage."
"Okay, but hurry up. I don't know how to handle an owl," Cassian replied.
"Got it," Marcel said and quickly headed to the first floor.
Cassian was left alone with his owlet. He didn't have full feathers yet — his body was covered in soft down. The owlet had large orange eyes with black pupils.
"You're actually ridiculously cute when you look closely," Cassian said and tried to stroke the owlet's head with his index finger.
The owlet sharply turned his head backward.
"What?!" Cassian exclaimed.
"Oh right, they can turn their heads 270 degrees," he remembered. "It'll be hard to get used to him, but I think it's worth it."
He tried to pet the owlet again, but the bird jerked his head sharply and pecked Cassian's index finger.
"Ouch!" Cassian cried out.
He looked at his finger, which had started bleeding.
"Okay, looks like we're not going to get along right away," Cassian said.