Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive

Castor ran off toward the archway, disappearing around the marble corner.

​Julian stood there for a second, then looked down at Lucius, who was tugging at his robe.

"That boy... is weird," Lucius muttered, and Julian laughed.

See, even Lucius thinks the same way. The weird one among them was definitely Castor.

But at least... he was genuine.

"He’s weird, but he’s nice, right?" Julian asked, and Lucius nodded slowly.

"Not scary," Lucius said, and Julian nodded.

"We might run into him more often. So be sure to say hi when we do, okay?" Once again, Lucius nodded, looking as adorable as ever, and Julian stoked his hair. "Come. We should head back before they come looking for us."

​He took the boy’s hand, and they walked out of the garden.

As they approached the main hall, they saw Elian standing by a pillar, his hands tucked into his sleeves. He noticed them immediately, his eyes drifting to the green leaves caught on Julian’s sleeve.

​"I hope the air was refreshing," Elian said, his voice as calm as ever.

He came closer and then reached his hand towards Julian’s head, but Julian was on the defensive and evaded his hand.

"What are you doing?" Julian asked, his eyes darting a little alarmingly. What was the purifier just about to do?

"Don’t be alarmed, Saint," Elian said, his hands out to show there was nothing there. "I merely wanted to help you get the leaves out of your hair."

"Leaves?" Julian dropped his hand on his hair and noticed it right away. He flinched.

This whole time, he’s been walking with leaves in his hair? How did they even get in there?

He paused as he recalled Castor falling from the tree. At that moment when the tree shook, and the leaves flooded down, some must’ve caught on his hair.

"Lucius," Julian called, going down on one knee. "Help me take out the leaves."

Lucius was more than happy to take them out. This showed Julian still didn’t trust Elian.

Who knew what kind of things he would do when he dropped his hand on his head? What if there was some sort of brainwashing?

This might just be an excuse to implant that brainwashing spell.

They say priests don’t do magic, but you can never be too sure. Better to be safe than sorry.

Elian watched them silently, his hands tucked in his sleeves again. He kept his smile up, showing he was not offended in any way.

Then, Julian took the leaves from Lucius, planning to dispose of them along the way. He looked at Elian, whose smile broadened as he said.

"The archive doors are being prepared for you."

Julian nodded, rising to his feet and tossing the crushed leaves into a nearby stone receptacle.

He didn’t offer an explanation for how they got there, and Elian didn’t ask, though the priest’s gaze lingered on Julian’s shoulder for a second longer than necessary.

​"Lead the way, Purifier," Julian said.

​They walked in silence through the increasingly grand corridors of the East Spire.

The higher they climbed, the more the air felt thin and dry, smelling of old parchment and cold stone. Eventually, they reached a pair of towering silver doors engraved with the history of the First Light.

There were two guards in full white plate armor standing there. They seemed to be the Holy Knights, the ones who participated in the war.

Maybe not this division, but... he looked at the chest of the white armor, the holo of light engraved there said a lot.

The guards stepped aside, pulling the heavy handles until the doors groaned open.

​Inside, the Grand Archives were a world away from the blinding marble outside.

The room was circular, with shelves that stretched up so high the top rows were lost in the shadows of the vaulted ceiling.

Small, enchanted globes of soft white light floated near the desks, casting a steady glow over the thousands of scrolls and leather-bound books.

It was a Scholar’s paradise.

​"You have access to the public records and the historical accounts of the founding," Elian explained, stepping aside to let Julian enter. "The restricted sections remain locked, but for a scholar of your caliber, I imagine there is enough here to keep you occupied for weeks."

It was indeed enough to occupy him for the two months. So, if he was not speaking with the higher-ups or joining in on their prayers, he would be here, locked away from the rest of this white city.

Time will... surely flow fast this way.

​Julian let go of Lucius’s hand, watching the boy wander toward a low shelf filled with colorful maps. Julian himself walked toward the central table, where a large, iron-bound volume lay waiting.

​"I will be outside," Elian added, his voice echoing slightly in the vast room. "Should you need assistance in locating a specific era, you need only call."

Julian nodded and watched as he walked out.

​The doors shut with a heavy thud, leaving them alone in the silence of the library.

His hands trailed the shelves, which somehow had a way of taking his breath away.

It was magnificent. And even if he was in enemy territory, he could not help but admire an impressive Library.

"Are you that excited, Lucius?" He asked as he watched the boy pick up the maps that caught his eye.

At least, the ones his small hands could reach.

His eyes sparkled, and Julian chuckled softly.

Then, he turned back to the shelf in front of him.

​He didn’t start with the iron-bound volume. Not yet.

He should have gone far by now. Julian thought, glancing towards the door.

Julian kept his movements casual, as if simply browsing the perimeter of the room.

He knew how the Church worked; Elian might be behind those doors, but in a place this large, there were always other ways to be watched. He didn’t want to show his hand too early.

​He walked past rows of theology and philosophy, his fingers grazing the spines of books that had probably sat untouched for decades.