As twilight painted the sky in shades of deep violet and amber, the merchant cart creaked to a stop at the outer perimeter of Aetheria's Lower City.
Unlike the pristine, floating islands of the upper academy where noble mages resided, the Lower City was a sprawling, bustling maze of cobblestone streets, crowded night markets, and ancient stone libraries. Here, thousands of rogue scholars, alchemists, and common merchants lived beneath the shadow of the floating keeps, trading lower-grade mana herbs, ancient scrolls, and enchanted trinkets.
The old merchant turned back, offering a deep, respectful bow from his wooden seat. "This is as far as my oxen go, young masters. The market district is straight ahead. May the stars guide your steps."
"Thank you for the pleasant ride, elder," Adam replied, stepping down gracefully onto the smooth cobblestones.
Julian scrambled off after him, clutching his leather satchel like a lifeline. As the cart rolled away into the bustling crowd, the young scholar looked around the neon-lit magic market, his eyes bright with excitement despite the late hour.
"Senior Adam, the Grand Library's public archives are located in the Central Plaza," Julian explained eagerly, pointing toward a massive, dome-shaped building crafted from aged white marble. "Common scholars like me aren't allowed into the Floating Spires of the Inner Academy, but the public archives hold thousands of First Era texts. That's where I plan to spend the night searching for records of the world's original ley-line arrays!"
"A repository of old thoughts," Adam mused quietly, watching the colorful displays of glowing alchemical potions and floating parchment lanterns. "Lead the way, Julian. Books hold the heartbeat of those who came before."
They wove through the crowded night market, where street vendors shouted out prices for lower-tier monster cores and enchanted iron daggers. Adam walked with his usual tranquil grace, observing the simple joys and struggles of the mortal crowd.
However, as they neared the grand marble steps of the Public Archives, a thick, suffocating aura of arrogance blocked their path.
Four young men in pristine, gold-trimmed white robes stood at the entrance of the archives, backed by a dozen academy guards in silver plate. A heavy iron bar locked the grand double doors, and a crowd of dozens of common scholars and local researchers stood at the base of the stairs, murmuring in frustration.
At the head of the white-robed students stood a tall youth with slicked-back golden hair and an ornate silver wand tucked into his belt.
"The Public Archives are requisitioned under the authority of the Third Arcane Faculty!" the golden-haired youth announced loudly, his voice amplified by a wind-horn spell. "All commoners, unranked researchers, and non-registered scholars are barred from entry until the end of the month!"
Julian's face fell, his excitement instantly crumbling into utter devastation. "Barred? But... but the Public Archives are meant to be open to everyone! It's the law established by the founding headmasters!"
"Founding laws don't apply when the High House of Vance requires research space," an older scholar in the crowd spat bitterly, though he kept his voice low. "Young Master Silas Vance is preparing for the Academy's Spring Tournament. He cleared out the entire public library just so his lackeys could search for ancient combat spells without commoners disturbing them."
Julian clenched his fists, tears of frustration pricking his eyes. "I spent three years saving money for the travel permit just to read the First Era annals..."
Adam looked down at the young scholar, feeling the genuine, selfless devotion in the boy's heart. Julian didn't seek knowledge to bully others or gain cheap status; he sought it out of pure, unadulterated reverence for truth.
"A door built for knowledge should never be barred by vanity," Adam said softly.
He stepped past the crowd, walking straight up the marble steps toward the locked archives.