Pria collected herself and placated Geight as quickly as she could. She still had a job to do and abandoning it would seem suspicious to even oblivious Geight. She wasn't sure Rahu would notice the lack of book sorting, but she wasn't about to take that chance either.

As difficult as it was to focus, Pria sorted three dozen more books, picking out any helpful information— not that there was much— and stowing them away in their proper place. By her judgement, it took a little over two hours to get through them all, so she didn't think it would appear strange for her to take a break. It wasn't like Rahu put her on a timetable.

Geight stayed with her the whole time. Yesterday, Pria found his presence reassuring after being alone for so long. Now, she was trying to find the best way to ditch him.

She wanted to talk to Viris alone like she had last night. Or had it been this morning? Either way, having one of Rahu's aspects in the room didn't seem like a good idea. Rahu was going to be the topic of conversation, after all, and she barely trusted Viris enough to discuss it with him.

She still hadn't decided what she would say. Cestra would know, but she wasn't here. Pria needed to stop wishing she was. It was up to Pria to needle the information out of Viris without making him feel interrogated.

How could Rahu use celestial magic? How could he live so long? Who was he really?

She didn't know what Viris knew. He could feed her information he'd gotten from Rahu that was untrue or just outright lie to her. He could also just be as clueless as she was. There was just no way to know until she started talking to him.

But he told her if she needed anything, she could ask him. At the moment, there was nothing else to do but trust those words.

She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. When she turned to leave the room, Geight trailed after her. "Oh! We're leaving. Where are we going?" he asked, bobbing along next to her.

Pria bit back a sigh. "I'm going to find Viris. There are some things I want to talk to him about."

"That makes sense. Viris is just great. He would probably be pretty happy to talk to you too."

Pria's irritation buckled under her curiosity. She opened the door of the library as she asked, "Why's that?"

Geight pulsed, phasing through the wall after Pria. "He's always pretty down during storm season. But he perks up a little with company."

Pria considered. "Do you know why he doesn't like the storms so much?"

"Yeah," Geight said, voice small. His light curled with blues. "But you should ask him about it. It's... not a very happy story."

They stopped in front of the door across the hall. A pang of sympathy struck through her, but maybe this was her chance. "Maybe you shouldn't come, then. You could go with one of the other aspects, and I could talk to Viris. You don't have to stick around."

Geight's light went back to its usual yellow. "If I didn't know better, I would say it sounds like you're trying to get rid of me!" he chirped, far too cheery for such a statement. Pria's chest seized with panic, but Geight was already moving on. "That does sound nice. I could go join Qwo and Dree on their rounds or hang out with Peven or—"

Pria gave a strained smile. "Go on, then. I'll talk to Viris on my own."

"Okay!" Geight darted off without another word, shooting through the ceiling. Pria had no idea where he decided to go, but as long as he wasn't with her, she wouldn't spare it another thought.

Turning back to the door, Pria took a deep breath. She tilted her head back to address the tower. "Could you bring me to Viris?"

There was a slight shudder in acknowledgement. When Pria opened the door, she found herself in what looked like the tower's kitchen. For such an opulent, magical tower, Pria was thrown off by how normal its kitchen appeared. White, stone counters lined the perimeter of the room, their surfaces cluttered by jarred spices and ingredients. Large drying racks on the ceiling sported dozens of suspended leaves and brittle roots and a large sink resided in the corner. Two wooden ice boxes rested against the far wall, no doubt enchanted to better keep food cold. In the middle of the room, four large ovens huddled next to each other, with additional counter space on either end of them. To the right, large windows cut through the middle of the wall, illuminating the room far better than the small, floating orbs of light clustered along the edges of the room.

Viris stood in front of the sink, meticulously scrubbing a potato under the flow of water. He glanced up when the door clicked shut behind Pria, his eyes crinkling in a smile. "Hello, Miss Pria. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Pria stopped in front of the closest counter next to a pair of ovens. A cutting board rested on it, wiped sparkling clean alongside the large knife set next to it. She swallowed, fighting to contain the panic rising in her chest. "Hello, Viris. I-"

"Is something wrong?" Viris asked abruptly, setting down the dark root he was scrubbing and the brush he was using to clean it. Absently, he reached out and turned off the faucet, but he kept his gaze on her, dark eyes searching her face.

"No," Pria assured him, perhaps too quickly if the new furrow in his brow was anything to go by. "I was just wondering— or well—" You're stuttering, she heard Cestra's voice admonish her in the back of her head. Don't be suspicious. Make him volunteer the information you're looking for.

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. When she spoke, she held Viris's gaze evenly. "Geight told me he was made with celestial magic. Is that true?"

Viris cocked his head, eyes frowning. "Well, yes, it is. Excuse me, but why was that a topic of conversation between you and Mister Geight?"

Pria's heart thundered in her chest. She did her best to look unaffected. "I was asking about celestial magic because I've heard so much about it. And he told me that it wasn't anything so special because he was made of celestial magic."

"And you're wondering how Master Rahu is able to conjure the fabled magic of the elves," Viris sighed. A weary statement, not a question.

Pria could feel sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Her ears felt like they were burning, her blood like it was racing. "Is he one? An elf?"

Viris closed his eyes. Pria could scarcely breathe, waiting for his response. "No," he said. "He's not."

Pria resisted the urge to fidget. "Then-?"

Viris cut her off with a shake of his head. He gestured to the corner of the room where a small table and two chairs resided. "Why don't we sit? I can get us some refreshments, and we can chat."

Pria haltingly did as he said, perching on one of the chairs and watching as Viris fished out some pastries from one of the pantries. He let go of the silver platter they were on, and Pria nearly jumped up in a vain attempt to catch them. She should've known better, though, and felt foolish when the platter floated over as easily as a feather on a breeze. It set itself down on the table next to her without making a sound.

The pastries were piled on top of each other, all of them round and flaky with some kind of red jam in the middle of them. They looked almost like bloody eyes. Pria grimaced and carefully took one that was angled toward her just so it wouldn't feel like it was staring at her.

She nibbled at the sweet treat and wondered about the spell Viris just cast. He did it so casually—was it something simple? Storm magic, maybe, with the way it moved through the air?

"You look thoughtful, Miss Pria," Viris said. Pria jumped, abruptly realizing Viris had already fetched a silver pitcher to match the platter and sat down in the other chair. For someone so stately, seeing Viris fold himself up to fit in the small wooden chair made him look oddly absurd. His wings bunched up around his head like the skinny plume of a peacock so he didn't lean against them entirely. "May I inquire what it is you're thinking about?"

She couldn't see the harm in answering honestly. "How did you move the tray like that?"

"You're asking about the spell I used?" Viris clarified. Pria nodded. "A mixture of storm, defensive magic, and necromancy."

Pria raised a brow. "Necromancy? For moving a tray?"

Viris poured water from the pitcher into their glasses as he explained, "It is not alive. Thus, necromancy is the easiest magic to use when trying to move it."

Pria shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't make sense. It's made of metal. It's not like it's dead—it was never alive."

"That's not necessarily true," Viris said. He sipped at his water, thoughtful. "There are plenty of creatures in this world that either eat silver or need it to live. It's a crucial nutrient for their bodies, just like iron is for humans. In a way, at some point in the long history of this world, this tray knew what it meant to be alive. A mage need only create a bond between themself and the object they wish to manipulate to remind it what it means to be alive."

Pria furrowed her brow, recalling her attempt at healing magic the night before. "Isn't a bond supposed to be visible?"

Viris looked surprised, but he didn't ask where she learned that. "To the one that forges it, yes, or if you become particularly skilled in madness magic you can use it on yourself to see the bonds made by other mages. I would not recommend it, though—the influence of madness magic in any regard is an unpleasant experience."

Pria nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, Viris sipping at his water, Pria fighting to appear perfectly calm. The only side of her discomfort were her hands tightly clasped in her lap, but it wasn't like Viris was looking at that.

After several tense minutes, Viris finally broke the silence. "I fear you may be disappointed, Miss Pria," Viris began slowly. "For there is not much to say. It is somewhat of a sensitive topic though, especially with Master Rahu." He ruffled his feathers slightly. He wouldn't meet Pria's gaze. "Simply put, Master Rahu was given a celestial blessing."

Pria gaped at him. That didn't make any sense. Only elves were blessed with celestial magic and only the bloodline of royalty at that. But would a normal human know that? What could she say that didn't contradict him but got him to tell her more?

She cursed internally. "What does that mean?" she settled on, searching his face. He still didn't look at her.

"When he was born," Viris said, "he was given the same blessing as is typical of the blessed elvish bloodlines, if to a lesser degree. He can use celestial magic, but only some of its weakest spells. The creation of aspects, for instance, is about the limit of his ability."

"But... how? Why?" Pria demanded, desperate. How could the fates give someone like him a blessing? A human that only used it to kill the elves, the race supposed to be favored by the stars?

"I do not know," Viris murmured. For once, he looked small.

Pria didn't care. "But you're a kinnara," she insisted. He should know. They were supposed to be the elves' greatest allies in ages past. Messengers of the fates, beings of goodness and light and prophecy. "How could you not know?"

Viris finally met her gaze. Pria's rage sizzled out in the face of the ocean of grief in his eyes. "Because I've lost favor with the heavens, Miss Pria. Do you understand? All of us did. The kinnara are not the grand race we once were. There's barely even any of us left."

Pria swallowed. "What happened?"

Viris closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "I'm afraid that is a very long history lesson," he said wryly.

"I have time," Pria muttered, suddenly feeling uncertain. She wanted information on Rahu, and she would have picked and pried at whatever Viris said to get it.

But this was different. This was so much bigger than a powerful human mage she needed to kill. She had no idea the state of the kinnara was so dire, and it seemed cruel to make Viris recount it. Pria certainly wouldn't want to explain all the atrocities committed against the elves and to her to someone completely ignorant.

Viris was quiet for a long moment. "Did you know," he began, voice soft and sad, "there is a land across the Endless Sea?"

"There is?"

He nodded, and his tone turned wistful. "It is a beautiful and bountiful land. The mountains there were the home of the kinnara, and oh, Miss Pria, you should have seen them. Most days, it snowed, but at night the sky cleared and iridescent lights danced alongside the stars. Occasionally, a star would fall onto one of the mountaintops. Sometimes, it was a newly born kinnara, but most times, it was a prophecy from the fates. Omens, suggestions, and warnings that could be for specific people, places, or bloodlines. It was the job of the kinnara to deliver these messages from the divines to those they were meant for—that is, the elves they were meant for.

"I know it is an uncomfortable topic for most humans. But the elves originated from that land alongside us kinnara, and it was our duty to help them. In turn, we were seen as extensions of the fates and worshipped alongside them. For the most part, we did not interact much, but..."

Viris trailed off. Pria was never one for patience, but she bit her tongue and waited for him to continue. She knew elves did not originate from this land—Cestra had told her tales of an ancient migration to this continent—but she had never spared much thought for it. She should have realized earlier that there was another land, someplace to have originated from.

Were elves still there? If there were, what secrets did they hold? What knowledge could they give her and the rest of the elves stuck on this continent?

Would they help her get revenge for their people?

"There came a night," Viris said, breaking Pria from her thoughts, "one I'll never forget. I was the one to see the star fall, and I was the one to retrieve it. The messages of the fates had different colors depending on their contents—omens, for instance, were usually red, while a normal message was white or sometimes yellow. That star, though, wasn't one of the typical colors. Instead, it was the most brilliant golden hue I have ever seen. From the moment I saw it, I knew this message from the divines would change the world as both kinnara and elves knew it."

Pria waited a moment, but Viris didn't continue. Now, Pria was too wrapped up in his story for patience. "What was it?"

Viris's eyes crinkled with a small smile. "You," he said, and Pria's eyes widened before he continued, "Humans. The divines told us of a land across the sea filled with a new race of beings. While kinnara were talented in every discipline of magic and elves were gifted in one of each set, humans were gifted in the other. They were the opposite of elves in that regard, and the fates told us to journey across the sea and help guide them as we did for the elves.

"I was so excited by the prospect—so many of us were. A new race and a new land? It was nearly unbelievable. But as I and some of my brethren were preparing to fly across the sea and greet the humans, we received another message. We were not to tell the elves of this other land. They were made to exist separately.

"This caused some discord among us. I was one of the kinnara that was baffled by the idea. Why not tell the elves of the other land? Could they not help the humans too? If the two races mixed, could their talents in magic not complement each other? There were many that agreed with me, so before we set out to meet the humans, we went to the elvish leaders at the time and told them of what had transpired."

"How did they react?" Pria asked. She had never heard about any of this. Viris still looked so sad, and it made Pria nervous. This story couldn't have a happy ending. But what did humans do to ruin it?

"They wanted to come with us to meet the humans. Like us, they were excited by the idea of a new race, but we couldn't delay our journey that long so while they prepared to set sail across the ocean, we kinnara flew to this new land. We found the humans, numbering only a few hundred and woefully unsure of themselves. So we taught them what we knew about survival in this world, and after about a month, the elves joined us. For a time there was harmony.

"But there was a reason the fates advised us as they did, and by going against them, we made a terrible mistake. There were many among the elves and even among the kinnara that saw humans as lesser. They were young and foolish, and certainly for the elves, they had a simple talent in schools of magic that skilled elves could not achieve with decades of study. Many elvish families subjugated human ones for their natural abilities, and a number of kinnara started seeing helping humans as beneath them."

Pria didn't see what was so wrong with that. That was just the truth—elves and humans both were beneath the kinnara, and elves were above humans.

"Of course, this started creating divisions not only between the humans and the rest of us, but within the kinnara and among the elves. Everyone had an opinion on how humans should be treated—from no better than animals to the equal of the kinnara. The only ones who didn't get an opinion on how humans should be treated were the humans themselves."

How familiar. Pria couldn't bring it in herself to care for the suffering of humans, not when they only turned around and did the same thing to the elves. Pria was glad some of the elves treated them like animals. It was only what they deserved.

"Several centuries passed like this—not much time to an elf and even less to a kinnara, but we soon discovered that humans were far more short lived. And it was around that point that we received a message from the fates. You see, the divines were furious with us for going against their instructions. We had never done that before. We had been getting messages from them during that time, but it had become more and more infrequent until a final, bloody red star fell with one word within its heart: goodbye."

Viris tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. Pria realized with a pang of sympathy that the feathers on his cheeks were damp. "We didn't want to accept its meaning," he choked. Pria almost wanted to tell him to stop. She couldn't bring herself to. "It was nothing less than hysteria among the kinnara. We didn't want to think that we had ruined everything." He swallowed and took a shaky breath. "I didn't want to believe I ruined everything because, ultimately, I was the one that found that first star. I was the one that wanted to tell the elves, and I was the one that did. And in doing so, I doomed us.

"I don't know which of my brethren eventually told the other races, but soon, humans and elves learned that the divines had abandoned us. Still, there were elves bearing children that could still use celestial magic. That's our proof, the elves said, the fates have not abandoned us. We are still their chosen people."

Pria bit her tongue to stop herself from blurting out her questions. Wasn't that true, though? Was celestial magic not the ultimate proof that elves were superior to humans? An entire set of magic just for them? Not even the kinnara could use celestial magic.

"And I felt such a fool after that for thinking things were bad before. Suddenly, all elves were of the same opinion. The kinnara were fallen from grace, the humans were no better than a prized horse. They entered a long period of near tyrannical rule, one that we were reluctant to contradict after our monumental blunder. Of course, enough time had passed that humans had grown wiser. They'd grown stronger and their numbers multiplied far more rapidly than long-lived elves. They started rebelling against the treatment they'd received for so long, and before long, it was all-out war."

Something wasn't fitting together in this story. "How did the humans win if the elves were so powerful?" Pria asked. She couldn't tell if her tone was too derisive, but Viris didn't react to it, so she must have been alright.

Viris shook his head. "Elves were powerful, but there were fewer of them on this continent. There were plenty in their homeland that had never been here and never wanted to. What would they care for a war against the humans? Leave them to their land, and they would stay to theirs. Humans, too, had powers the elves did not. Their strengths in magic were not something they ever had to fight against before."

"You keep mentioning that, but I don't understand," Pria said. "Elves and humans have different strengths in magic?"

Viris nodded. "In each discipline, elves have talent in one magic and not the other, and it's the opposite for humans. For instance, elves are talented in storm magic while humans are better at earth. Such was the design of the divines.

"The war was simply awful, Miss Pria," Viris continued. His voice was not so sad anymore, but it was still pained. "Cities were purged of one race or the other, claimed either by the elves or the humans. There were highs in lows in the war, but that's only to be expected with how long it lasted. There were years and even decades were an uneasy peace was called, but in the end one side always slighted another and the fighting began again. And when they fought—truly fought— it was like a nightmare. Neither side held back. They were truly trying to wipe the other from the face of the earth.

"I, along with the rest of my kind, tried to establish peace again. Sometimes, we would achieve a short-lived victory like I said, but for the most, we were only killed for our effort."

Pria gasped, eyes wide. "Why?" she all but cried. "How could the humans do that?"

Viris gave her a strange look. "It was not only humans that would grow weary of kinnara interference. In fact, most of the time, elves would capture us, and if we tried to escape, our lives were ended. We had lost favor with the fates; where once we guided the elves with divine wisdom, they began to see us as desperate meddlers. If we got in the way, there was a good chance we would be removed permanently."

Pria felt sick. "That—That can't be," she muttered. How could elves do something like that? It couldn't be true, could it? Cestra told her the elves had always revered the kinnara, and she wouldn't lie to Pria.

Would she?

"It is the unfortunate truth," Viris said, misunderstanding her words. "It was a war of attrition, and humans were the only ones that could have ever won. They reproduced too quickly for the elves to compete with, even with celestial magic. The last battle of the war found the last of the elves on this continent either dead or enslaved just as they had once done to the humans."

It was a harrowing tale. The way Viris told it, the elves almost sounded like the villains in it. But that couldn't be right. Even if elves started the war, humans finished it in the most brutal way imaginable. They killed all their mages. From soldiers to healers to children barely able to cast a single spell. Humans took everything from them, erased everything that made them elves.

And it was Rahu's fault. The last of their mages were eradicated in the battle he led. It was enough to make Pria tremble with rage, but she pushed it away. They weren't talking about Rahu right now.

"What about you?" Pria asked carefully. "How did you end up here?"

Viris sighed. "When the war ended, I was alone. I was the last of the kinnara on this continent that I knew of, and with my attempt at fixing my past mistakes failed, the only thing I could think of was to head home. I made the journey across the ocean once more, a journey I had not made since the war started. Alone with my thoughts as I was, I made so many plans during the flight. I would rally the remaining kinnara. We would bring the elves left with the humans back to their proper continent. Everything would be put back in its proper place, and after so much tragedy, perhaps there would finally be peace. Maybe one day, the fates would even restore their favor with us. The unfortunate truth of existence, however, is that plans often go awry."

Yes, Pria had an idea of what that was like.

"When I got back to my mountain home, I found it empty. I wandered around our little city for days, but I found no trace of a living kinnara. What I did find was a star, a message from the divines."

Pria frowned. "I thought they weren't sending them anymore?"

"That is what I thought as well, and I was as surprised then as you are now. It was a purple star—a prophecy. Judging by its surrounding area of impact, it had sat there for many years untouched. When I peered into its heart, I found a message: there will come another blessed by the stars that will restore order to the world."

Pria nearly scowled. "And you think that's Rahu?" It was heartening for her, though. Blessed by the stars—that had to be her.

Viris shrugged. "Honestly, I do not know. But that is not why I came here. No, after finding that message, I stayed in that abandoned city for a long time. I don't know how long—a few years, at least, but likely longer. I thought to myself, if the fates had a plan, I would not be there to mess it up again. So I waited for another kinnara to come. I thought, there must be another; I could not be the last. If I stayed long enough, surely another of my brethren would arrive. Surely, I could send them out with the prophecy so they could find the one it spoke of."

Viris closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Pria's heart hurt thinking about it. "No one ever came."

"No one ever came," Viris repeated, voice tight. "I still believe there must be other kinnara still alive but in hiding, waiting for the end of a war that has long since come. Eventually, I wanted to try finding them, and prepared to come back to this continent. What I did not know, however, was what happened to the storms. There were always storms over the ocean, but they were much more like what you imagine storms to be—wind, thunder, rain, but nothing extraordinary. An elf must have cast a spell on them, used their celestial magic to bring it to life during the war. I don't know when or how, and I must have been fortunate enough to not encounter one on the flight over.

"It came without warning and swept me up in its terrible wrath before I knew what happened. But honestly, Miss Pria?" Viris shook his head, that terrible grief capturing him again. "I was relieved. I had committed such sins in my life and I felt so awfully alone—I thought, now I could rest. Now I could join my brethren. I was tossed and battered by the storm by what felt like ages. At some point, I lost consciousness, and when I woke up—" Viris gestured around him— "I was here. Master Rahu saved me from the storm."

Pria stared at him. "But why did you stay?" She couldn't wrap her mind around it. If he was looking for other kinnara, why wouldn't he leave? Wasn't Rahu one of the humans he should hate more than anyone?

Viris gave her another of those sad smiles. "Because of this, my dear," he whispered, standing. Pria gaped at him as one of his wings disappeared in a burst of golden light. "The storm may not have taken my life, but it did take my wing."

"You still could have left," Pria insisted. Even if he couldn't fly. Even if he hid the fact he was missing an entire wing from her. But she wasn't mad about it. "You didn't have to let him make you a servant."

Viris gave her a hard look that made Pria feel chagrined as easily as if she were a child. "He saved my life," he said. "He offered me a safe place to stay. And so I stay and help the man where I can. I am not just Rahu's servant. I am his friend."

Pria's chest hurt. He'd seen so much heartache and tragedy all because of humans and he still-

But that wasn't true. Humans weren't solely to blame for what happened to the kinnara. By the sounds of it, it was probably the elves that murdered the majority of them. It made her sick to think about—her ancestors, doing something like that.

It didn't change anything, though. She still had to finish her mission. It didn't matter what her predecessors did—what mattered was the suffering her people were going through right now. She didn't know if Viris saw it the same way. He could hate elves now for all she knew, but that didn't change anything either. She would do what needed to be done. If he hated her for that, then so be it.

"Do you hate them?" Pria asked. "The elves?"

Viris smoothed down his feathers and settled back in his chair. His illusionary wing stretched back up along his back. "I don't know," he said after a long moment. "I've thought much about it, and I still don't know. I want the prophecy to be fulfilled—I want the order of the world to be restored, and I hope that with it, the fates may once again bless the kinnara. I can never forgive the elves for what they've done to my brethren, But even if I do hate them—" he shook his head— "I think they've paid for their crimes."

Pria nodded. She could respect that—more than respect it. "You're a forgiving man, Viris," she murmured. She would never forgive humans for what they've done to the elves. Even if she slaughtered all of them—beginning with Rahu—she would curse them for the rest of her life.

"What about the other elves? Are they still there on the other continent?"

Viris shrugged. "I'd imagine. I never went looking for any of them. It... had been too soon."

That was understandable but still irritating. It would have been nice to get their help, but from what Viris said, they might not help her either way. She wondered, did they care at all about what was happening here? Did they know?

Viris cleared his throat. Plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbing at his eyes, he stood. "Ah, but I fear we have traversed far from your original inquiry. Master Rahu's celestial magic is nothing to concern yourself over. I am certain he is not an elf, and whether or not he is a child of prophecy has no bearing on your desire to learn magic."

Maybe not, but it only further complicated her plans. If she killed him and it turned out he was given a grand purpose from the divines—

But how could they do something like that? Give their power to someone who had only used it to slaughter the innocent? No, Cestra said she saw it. Pria was the one kissed by a star on the dawn of her birth. She was the one chosen to save her people and restore order to the world. It was her destiny.

Unless Cestra lied. She lied about the kinnara. Who was to say—

No. Pria broke that thought off before she could even complete it. Cestra wouldn't lie to her. She must have simply been mistaken about the kinnara. She hadn't been a soldier in her youth but a simple maid, after all, or she would have been killed at the end of the war along with the others. It was unlikely she knew any dirty secrets.

She'd only told Pria what she knew as true. Pria had to trust that. She would not be dissuaded from her mission.

"Thank you for telling me all that, Viris," Pria said, standing. "I know it was hard."

Viris bowed his head. "It is not a pleasant tale. But I hope it shed light on the past and my presence here and eased your mind as to the nature of Rahu and his magic. If you would excuse me, I should get back to work."

Pria nodded. "As should I. See you later, Viris."

He smiled at her, standing and moving back to his cooking station. Pria left for the library then, mind whirling. Cestra never mentioned much about the war itself except for what they lost in it. She couldn't imagine Viris lied about anything in his tale, but then, she knew Cestra would never lie to her either. Could the fate of the kinnara really be so dire? Because of the elves?

As Pria entered the library and began sorting through the books once more, she also couldn't help but worry that she was too suspicious throughout their conversation. What would she do if Viris suspected she was an elf? What would he do? He obviously had very mixed feelings towards the elves, and while Pria once thought she might find an ally in a gracious kinnara even if she revealed herself, now that felt like a silly thought.

It didn't matter. She would just keep her head down and continue as she had. If Viris thought she was an elf, he would just come out and say that, right? She wasn't sure, and she didn't know what to do about it.

She would just do her job. Sort the books, glean what she could from them, and try not to think about the doubt eating at the back of her mind.

A few hours passed. She didn't see Geight again before it was time for dinner, but she refused to feel lonely. At dinner, Rahu read his tome, Viris made polite conversation, and no one demanded she take off her hat and show her ears.

Everything really was alright, and in a few days, she would have her first real lesson in magic. Pria smiled into her soup. She could get her plan back on track, no matter what Viris said about the motivation behind it.

No matter what happened in the past, her peopleneeded saving now. She would not let herself be led astray from that.