Kael looks up, his eyes taking in the grandeur of the structure before him. 'Damn, this place is nice. It's not the biggest library in this country, but it's still pretty damn big.' The building stands majestic, crafted from polished marble that gleams under the sun, its facade adorned with intricate plant motifs and elegant elvish script that seem to dance and twirl around each column and archway. The architecture is a testament to elvish craftsmanship, sophisticated and harmonious with nature, yet the building itself harbors a secret: its true expanse lies not above but beneath the ground, with levels upon levels stretching into the earth, each holding centuries-old secrets and knowledge.
Lúthien, noticing his awe, smiles and extends her hand towards the library, a gesture of pride and invitation. "Welcome to our academy's greatest creation," she says, her voice imbued with a hint of reverence.
Kael yawns, stretching casually while his mind wanders to the treasures that lie within. 'Each level in this library has old books that go back centuries. If only I could enter the lower floors.'
He turns to Lúthien, his gaze inquisitive. "Do you come here often?" he asks, attempting to gauge her familiarity with the place.
Lúthien shakes her head lightly, a dismissive gesture that belies her true understanding of the place. "Not really... I'm a martial artist. I think you humans call it magic arts since I use mana. There's no point in studying here, most of the books here are just spells, theories, and all that magic mumbo jumbo, but I do know my way around. Every student must know how to navigate our library."
Lúthien grins, her eyes twinkling with the anticipation of revealing one of the library's unique features. "This place is not normal, you know," she declares with a mischievous undertone, as she pushes open the heavy door. 'Hehehe, I can't wait to see his reaction,' she thinks, her grin widening as she turns to gauge Kael's expression.
To her surprise, Kael merely stretches, his face betraying no hint of astonishment or curiosity. 'Huh? Why isn't he reacting at all?' she wonders, her excitement dimming in the face of his nonchalance.
Kael steps through the door, his eyes landing on the hallway flanked by two magnificent paintings. One captures the vast expanse of an ocean, its waters teeming with life; creatures large and small engage in the eternal dance of predator and prey. The other painting depicts a vibrant forest, alive with a variety of animals moving freely amongst the trees and underbrush, each detail pulsating with life. Despite their stillness, these paintings extend far and wide, both of them alive, a constant cycle of life unfolding within their frames.
Kael rubs his eyes, his mind analyzing the marvel before him. 'This is a record of history. Everything shown is footage of life recorded who knows how long ago. But it's not completely accurate, although the patterns and behaviors of the animals are accurate, everything that's being done is completely random, the paintings are technically alive,' he muses silently, appreciating the artistry and magic without the expected outward display of awe.
Lúthien, unable to hide her frustration, looks at Kael, her expectations dashed. "Why aren't you reacting?" she demands, her voice laced with disappointment. "You're supposed to say 'Wow! So cool~' or something like that," she exhales, her enthusiasm deflating.
Kael delivers a belated reaction in a flat, toneless voice, "Wow, so cool." The lack of genuine interest makes the statement sound almost sarcastic.
She clicks her tongue, annoyance seeping through her poised exterior. "There's no point in saying it now," she mumbles to herself, her initial excitement turned to mild irritation at his lackluster response.
Lúthien bites her inner cheek, a silent expression of her growing irritation. "Hmph," she exhales sharply, her frustration evident. 'This guy... Dammit! Why is he like this? He's so strange... Are all humans like him? No, that's not possible. Unlike the others, he follows all our customs,' she muses, confusion swirling in her thoughts. She rubs her temples in exasperation. 'Why am I even mad? Ugh, I'm going insane,' she laments internally, questioning her own reactions.
Glancing around at the other students and then back at Kael, a mischievous idea takes root. She strides up to Kael, seizing his hand and leaning on him, all while casting playful winks at the girls passing by. Kael, for his part, sighs internally, his patience thinning. 'Hmmm. This is annoying, but I have to help her for my own benefit.'
Upon his request, "Can you take me to the room with theories?" Lúthien nods, leading him to an innocuous plant beside the wall. They walk straight through the adjacent wall, emerging into a large room filled with thousands of books that float and fly above them. The area is replete with tables and, surprisingly, a hot chocolate brewing station. With a confident smirk, Lúthien declares, "Hehehe, I bet you're surprised now~"
Turning to witness his reaction, she pauses, scratching her head in confusion as she realizes he's no longer holding her hand and has already seated himself at a table. 'H-huh? H-how... When did he stop holding my hand? I didn't notice...' Her bewilderment grows, her pride slightly wounded. 'I-I'm beautiful, right? I'm not full of myself, but I can attract most men. I-I know we're just pretending, but it's so annoying. He just ignores what I do as if I was a child.' Frustration mounting, she groans as she drags herself to the table and slams her face down, her actions a mix of defeat and petulance.
"What are you doing?" she asks with a toneless voice, barely looking up as she observes Kael messing with the runes on the table.
Kael, focused on the task at hand, replies without missing a beat, "What does it look like? I'm searching for something useful." 'There should be a total of 9 books that combine to create a heavenly language that was removed by the gods thousands of years ago. There are two in the Elven country, I doubt I can collect them all, but I don't need them all. If I have enough data, I might be able to recreate the language.'
Lúthien's eyes widen in sudden realization, her movements abrupt as she stands, accidentally slamming her hands on the table, creating a loud noise that echoes through the silent room. "Sorry..." she mumbles apologetically, before clearing her throat and confronting Kael with a question that's been burning within her. "How? You shouldn't be able to understand our language."
Kael, absorbed in the swirling books above, responds without diverting his attention. "Huh? Aren't I speaking Elvish?"
Lúthien bites her inner lip in frustration, realizing the truth in his words. 'That's right, he is speaking Elvish,' she admits to herself reluctantly. She sighs, the weight of tradition and cultural norms pressing down on her. "That's different. We make it easily accessible to learn to speak our tongue; however, reading and writing is a different story."
Kael's response is casual, his curiosity piqued. "Hmm... how so?" He's still distracted, his mind weaving through the complexities of their current situation. 'Isabella was going to get all the books near the end of the story with the help of Mason, but I can't wait that long.'
Lúthien's patience wears thin as she watches him continue to tamper with the magical runes. "Stop messing around with that. You can't read our language. Our reading and our speaking are two completely different things. Hey, are you listening?" she demands, her tone a mixture of exasperation and concern.
Kael turns to her, his patience beginning to wane as well. "What?" he asks plainly, his focus momentarily shifting from the books to the elf before him.
Lúthien, standing firm with her hands on her hips, tries to emphasize the impossibility of his understanding. "What do you mean, what? The only way to know how to read our language is to be taught by an elf."
Kael, feeling a headache brewing from the circular argument, diverts the conversation with a question of his own. "Hey, why are you so strong compared to your classmates?"
Lúthien, caught off guard, begins, "Um... because I—" only to be interrupted by Kael, who delivers his conclusion with an assertive tone. "Because you're a genius, and Isadora is stronger than you because she's a bigger genius."
He pushes her hand away gently, asserting his own capability. "I know how to read and speak the Elvish tongue because I'm a smart type of genius." His voice carries a blend of irritation and confidence, a declaration meant to end their dispute. 'Not as smart as Eira or Biana though. Those two are fucking monsters. Still, I think this is the best way to explain it to this stubborn elf.'
Lúthien exhales in defeat, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and resignation. "Ugh... do what you want. I give up," she declares, allowing her face to meet the table in an act of surrender. Absentmindedly, she begins to fiddle with her golden hair, watching Kael sort through the books with a curiosity she can't quite shake. 'Everyone loves me... apart from those bastards that try to marry me off, he's actually spoken back to me multiple times. And I don't really hate it, it's just... why am I mad? He's helping me out, so I shouldn't be mad. We barely know each other after all,' she ruminates, twirling her hair around her finger in thought.
Breaking the silence, she ventures, "Hey, are you mad at me? Is it because of what I did to your friend?" Her voice is tentative, probing the waters of their complex dynamic.
Kael, engrossed in his reading, doesn't look up as he replies, "Hmm? What are you talking about?" His indifference stirs a flicker of concern within her.
She presses on, seeking clarity. "Unlike before, you're... colder, I guess?" Her observation is laced with uncertainty, a contrast to her usual confidence.
Kael responds matter-of-factly, "Oh, don't you remember? You ate my food." His tone is calm, his attention still partially on the books as he discards another with a thought, 'this isn't it either.' Inside, he ponders her reaction, 'What's up with her? Mad at her? She thinks I'm mad?'
Lúthien looks away, a realization dawning on her. 'O-oh, that makes sense. I did eat his food, and he didn't get to eat anything.' An idea forms in her mind, a plan to mend the rift between them. With renewed energy, she rises and heads to the hot chocolate brewing station, making two cups. 'I know. I'll show him some nice places in the capital humans aren't typically allowed to access. I think that'll be enough for him to forgive me,' she decides, concocting a peace offering.
While preparing the hot chocolate, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror at the brewing station. Her sky-blue eyes reflect back at her, sparking a moment of self-assurance. 'Hmmm... Yeah, I'm cute,' she affirms internally, her confidence momentarily buoyed.
She turns to look at Kael, who is still absorbed in his research in the distance. A fleeting thought crosses her mind, 'Is he gay...?' but she quickly dismisses it with a shake of her head, chiding herself, 'What is wrong with me today?'
Kael's eyebrow twitches as he senses something unusual, his eyes sharpening as a light purple mist becomes visible to him, enveloping the space around them. 'This...' he muses internally, a question forming in his mind. 'Hey system, what the hell is this?'
[Analyzing.]
[Who did you piss off this time? The mist around is a pheromone enhancer. Lol.]
'I see... No wonder she's been asking weird questions,' he concludes, setting the book aside. A sense of clarity washes over him, 'But why am I unaffected?' he ponders, turning his attention to Lúthien, who approaches him with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. He places the beverage down, his expression composed yet inquisitive.
"Someone is messing with us. I just noticed some sort of pheromone mist around us. Do you know what's going on?" Kael inquires calmly, his mind racing, 'I know exactly who it is, but I didn't think he'd prank us like this.'
Lúthien's eyes widen in shock, her fist clenching in sudden embarrassment. "That damn bastard is so dead."