"So I don't have to do anything yet?" Now alone with Lady Von Silberthal inside the Von Silberthal study room, Fabrisse asked.

"You need to do this one thing," sitting across from Fabrisse, the Lady stared at him as she said. "Can you keep secrets that could alter the balance of nations?"

Fabrisse wanted nothing more than to sigh. Of course, important people and their secrets. He'd been holding enough secrets to qualify as a walking vault, minus the lock and with considerably more nervous sweating.

"Do we have to sign a contract?" He asked.

"Of course," Lady von Silberthal replied. "It is not merely for our protection, Mr. Kestovar. It is to ensure your rights are formally recognized as well. An agreement without terms leaves both parties vulnerable."

Fabrisse nodded slowly, though his stomach did a neat little flip. He just prayed the terms didn't conflict with whatever ominous bargain Headmaster Draeth already considered him bound by.

Lady von Silberthal reached into a drawer and withdrew a thick folio sealed with the house crest. She set it on the desk between them, broke the wax, and spread the folio across the desk. The parchment unfurled, neat black script marching in orderly lines.

"Now," she said, drawing a slim stylus of silver from her sleeve. "The original draft assumed you would join us in a long-term capacity. We are to revise a few terms. We will begin with proof-of-concept experiments."

She touched the stylus to the parchment. Lines erased and new clauses etched themselves into being as though the ink were alive and reluctantly obeying her will.

Fabrisse fidgeted with the hem of his robe. Watching a legal document edit itself in real time was only slightly less unsettling than watching a body stitch itself together.

"Of course," Lady von Silberthal continued smoothly, "successful proof-of-concept work will open to practical application trials. And," her stylus hovered for a deliberate beat before she inscribed the next clause, "future artifact resonance probes."

Fabrisse's breath caught. Resonance probes. Which means the Eidralith. They'd want to know why his resonance was skewed and where the extra aetheric connection came from. He would have to talk about his artifact. His throat went dry at the thought. Absolutely not.

The stylus moved again. The script obeyed, curling into a new paragraph that burned deep blue before settling into ordinary black ink.

"Confidentiality is obvious," she went on. "You will not disclose details of your work, nor will you attempt manipulation of Silico-Dormant Obscura stones in public venues, if you have been doing so."

Of course I've been doing so. It's the only way I deal damage.

More words slithered across the parchment, forming into stern prohibition. The glyphs along the margins flared once, sealing the changes. When she lifted her stylus at last, the contract lay still again, and Lady von Silberthal tapped the bottom of the page. "There. Read, if you wish. The revisions are in your favor. Only the terms as they stand, witnessed by glyph."

Fabrisse bent over the folio. His eyes darted down the dense columns until he found the section on compensation.

Base salary: 5,000 Kohns monthly.

Automatic increase: 10% every six months.

Additional compensation: hazard pay, experimental risk stipend, archive access credits.

Insurance: full coverage for thaumaturgical accidents and long-term resonance strain.

Hours: twelve per week minimum – eighteen per week maximum.

His job at the Library barely scraped two thousand for the same number of hours. He might have to sacrifice many hours at the Library for this, but that seemed more than worth it.

"Um—this part." He tapped the 'Resonance Probing' clause, trying not to sound as small as he felt. "Can this be revised?"

Lady von Silberthal's expression didn't change. "It should not. Those measurements are essential. They will save time, effort, and frustration for both you and us. We cannot refine your method if we do not know what fuels it."

Exactly what I don't want to tell you. Fabrisse pressed his palms flat to his knees. "Observations are one thing. I am fine with measurements and graphs. But interviews where I have to explain my artifact . . . I don't want that." If the data suffices, you don't need me to explain the why.

There was a long pause. Then, finally, a single measured nod. "So be it. Measurements without interrogation. We can accept that."

Relief loosened his chest just enough for him to speak again. "And in return could I . . . gain access to the Von Silberthal archive? I need to learn more stone spells if I'm to do anything useful."

"Granted. A reasonable request."

The glyphs along the page glowed again to seal the final amendments. Now the contract gleamed in a way that made his skin crawl—because it was good. Very good. Almost frighteningly so. Much better than Draeth's vague 'arrangement,' which didn't even specify how many spells Fabrisse was supposed to be allowed per term.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

But could he trust it? He wasn't sure.

"You may think on it at home," Lady von Silberthal said, sliding the folio toward him. "Take your time. But you will not disclose the contents of this contract to anyone. Not your professors, not your colleagues, not your friends. Do we have an understanding?"

Fabrisse's fingers brushed the folio's edge. The glyphs tingled against his skin.

"Yes," he said. "But can I learn a spell first?"

"Even before we sign a contract?" The Lady asked.

"Is that . . . possible?" He asked back. Fabrisse wasn't sure where this courage had come from. Maybe he had found it in him to assert himself ever since that one time he lashed out at Severa Montreal. Also, he had a quest to complete.

She considered for a long moment, then inclined her head. "I can teach you a spell from my personal lineage; one not broadly circulated."

Fabrisse's pulse jumped, though he did his best not to fidget. "Is it also in the Von Silberthal archive?"

That earned him a narrow squint. "Why does that matter?"

Of course that would sound suspicious. But what could he do? Such was the Eidralith's wording, and he wasn't going to risk going home empty-handed.

He forced a laugh that came out too thin. "I've, uh . . . always admired the Von Silberthal lineage. Tremblehold, Pebblecast are brilliant designs, really. Efficient and elegant. I've read about them in Anabeth's compendium." Please buy it. Please don't ask for details.

Lady von Silberthal studied him for an even longer moment than the last time. "Very well. If that is what you wish, I will teach you a spell from my lineage and also preserved in the Von Silberthal archive."

Fabrisse managed not to sag in relief. But then a question bubbled inside him. "What do you mean 'your lineage'?"

The Lady clicked her tongue, a rather ungraceful sound. "My name was not always Von Silberthal, Mr. Kestovar. I was born a Margenholt." Which was to be expected. It would be bizarre if both the Lady and the Lord were born as Von Silberthals.

"Margenholt?" His eyes widened. "Don't you mean . . ."

"I am Professor Ronza Margenholt's daughter, Mr. Kestovar."

[Cohere—Progress to Rank I: 100%]

Fabrisse crouched, pressing one palm to the cool flagstones. He drew the arc with the other hand, too stiff at first, then correcting the curve mid-motion.

Dust leapt. The grains knit together, wobbling once before locking into a disc the size of his palm. It was thin and uneven at the edges, but it held. It had only taken him four observation rounds and four tries to cast this spell.

Cohere—Rank I

Type: Active

Tags: Reinforcement / Resonance / Utility

Element: Earth (Stone)

Casting Time: 3 seconds

Cooldown: 4 rounds

Aetheric Reaction Equation: 40% Mineral-based Material + 25% Mental Stability + 20% Caster's Emotional Focus + 15% Sequencing Control → Cohere

Preferred Emotion: Resolve

Effect: Channels resonant force into a 1.5m² patch of stone or mineral substrate. For 6 seconds, the targeted material gains enhanced cohesion, suppressing cracks, fractures, or unstable layering. Allied structures or defenses overlapping the area gain +2 Structural Integrity (stacking with other reinforcement effects). If used on loose stone, gravel, or similar terrain, it fuses into a hardened layer, providing stable footing and negating disadvantage from difficult ground.

Effective Depth: 0.3 meters

Displacement Pattern: Convergent, inward-binding (non-damaging)

Perception Difficulty: Moderate — most targets will not recognize the reinforcement unless they witnessed the casting or directly inspect the terrain.

Channelling Stability Check: RES ≥ 10, INT ≥ 10 & SYN ≥ 10 to maintain resonance under stress; failure causes partial effect (-50% duration).

Casting Requirement: SYN ≥ 10

Observing him with folded hands, the Lady said, "Adaquate. You're quite a fast learner for someone claiming to be 'the worst student in the Synod', Mr. Kestovar."

He exhaled, a laugh bubbling in his chest though he dared not let it out. Adequate? That's the best thing anyone's ever called me today (because Liene's 'pretty' was too weird).

Fabrisse now realized with certainty. Even if it was a secret spell from the Margenholt lineage, as long as it was basic enough, he could learn it. He could learn anything (Tier I) he wanted now.

I am now an adequate spellcaster.

[QUEST COMPLETED: The Stonebound Archive (1)]

Reward: +150 EXP

+2 INT

+2 Earth Thaumaturgy Mastery Points

[Training Completed: +33 EXP]

[Progress to Level 7: 3372/4550]

[Celestial Hoarding Storage Limit now raised to 12.]

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