Noel sat cross-legged on his bed, a half-crumpled trade catalog spread across his lap.
The paper was worn and a little scorched at the edges—clearly secondhand. Every item glowed faintly on the page, animated by weak enchantments that flickered when you touched them.
He'd circled the one he needed twice already.
Name: Veilweaver's Charm
Type: Illusion-class utility artifact
Function: Temporarily alters physical appearance (30–45 min max)
Recharge Time: 96 hours
Price: 40 gold coins.
Noel stared at the number.
Then exhaled, long and flat, and dropped the catalog onto the bed.
"Right. So that's a no."
Even if he emptied his dorm coin pouch, counted the silver hidden in his desk, and converted every last bronze he kept in his belt pouch, he'd maybe scrape together seven gold.
Maybe.
And that's without leaving anything for meals, supplies, or bribes—which were fast becoming a necessity.
'Too expensive.'
He leaned back on one elbow, eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling.
Then the answer hit him like a whisper.
'Actually… maybe not too expensive.'
A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
'I do know someone who could buy half this catalog before breakfast.'
His mind turned toward Elyra von Estermont.
'And she did say we were working together.'
The library was quiet, but not empty.
Students filtered between rows like ghosts, voices hushed to barely a whisper. Somewhere nearby, someone flipped a page too loudly and got a death stare for it.
Noel was already seated in their usual corner when Elyra arrived.
She didn't speak right away—just dropped her satchel beside the chair, slid into her seat across from him, and opened a thick black notebook with practiced grace.
Noel waited.
Then leaned back, casual.
"I need something."
Elyra didn't look up. "Hmm"
"It's important."
She lifted her eyes now—gray and sharp.
"Define important."
He pulled the folded catalog page from his coat and laid it flat between them. His finger tapped once on the circled listing.
She read it once, twice. Then looked at him.
"That's not exactly pocket change."
"Didn't expect it to be."
A pause.
Then:
"I'll get it."
Noel blinked once.
Just once.
"That easy?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't say it was free."
"One favor," she said simply.
He narrowed his eyes. "I thought we were in this together."
"We are," she said. "But I keep my books balanced."
Noel leaned forward slightly.
"You're not even going to tell me what the favor is?"
"If I told you now," she said, closing her notebook with a soft snap, "you might say no."
He stared at her.
Long. Cold.
Three days passed.
Noel kept to his routine—early training, quiet meals, classes where he said just enough to stay present and no more.
But something was different.
It started with looks.
Not confrontational. Just... curious. Lingering.
Then came the whispers, the kind that dropped when he walked into a room and picked up again when he left.
He heard them in pieces:
"He's always in the library now, right?"
"With her. Elyra."
"Thorne? That guy from the duel?"
"Didn't she call him into the council office last week?"
"He doesn't look like much, but something's off about him."
Noel pretended not to notice.
But it grated.
Because he did notice.
Every glance. Every shifted chair. Every voice that lowered a little too late.
'I was supposed to be the background.'
'A ghost in the crowd.'
He stood at the edge of the training field one morning, arms crossed, watching the others spar. Roberto waved him over. Marcus smiled.
Noel nodded.
But didn't move.
'First that idiot noble. Now this.'
'Too much attention. Fuck'
He clenched his jaw, turned on his heel, and walked away.
It was just past dusk when Noel got the message.
Just a student courier who found him on the way back from evening drills.
"Lady Estermont says: west stairwell, second floor. Now."
Noel didn't hesitate.
The stairwell was dimly lit, unused after hours. A perfect dead zone in the academy's patrol routes.
Elyra was already there when he arrived.
She didn't look like a noble tonight—no silver-trimmed jacket, no council pin. Just simple academy black, hair pulled into a low braid, face neutral.
In her hand: a small velvet pouch.
"Catch," she said, tossing it to him.
He caught it easily, feeling the weight immediately.
Noel opened it.
Inside, nestled in black cloth, was a smooth, obsidian coin etched with faint shifting runes.
He turned it over in his palm. "Looks legit."
"It is. Tested it myself."
He nodded once. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she said. Then paused.
"Next time, we don't meet in the open."
Noel's eyes lifted.
"We're not exactly in the middle of the courtyard."
"Doesn't matter," she said. "Rumors are climbing. Fast."
He exhaled. "Yeah. I've noticed."
She tilted her head, studying him.
"They bother you?"
Noel turned the obsidian coin over in his fingers, watching the faint shimmer of runes shift like oil under moonlight.
Then he shrugged.
"Not really."
Elyra gave him a look. "That's a lie."
He smirked. "I didn't say I liked it. Just said it doesn't bother me."
"Big difference."
Noel leaned against the wall, the coin slipping into his pocket.
"I've been called worse. Rumors are noise. I've dealt with worse noise."
She tilted her head a little, studying him.
"You don't seem like the type to enjoy being the center of attention."
"I'm not."
"Then why not push back?"
"Because that means they matter."
Elyra clicked her tongue once. "Cold."
"Efficient," Noel corrected.
She pulled a small folded note from inside her coat and handed it to him.
"Next time we meet, it won't be in the open. People are starting to talk. I'd rather not add fuel."
He unfolded the note. One line, plain and simple:
"Alchemy Wing – Stairwell B. 6th bell. Come alone."
Noel looked up. "Dramatic much?"
She smirked. "Would you show up if it wasn't?"
He snorted under his breath and tucked the note into his inner pocket.
"Thanks for the coin, by the way."
Elyra waved a hand dismissively. "Just don't break it. Or lose it. Or do something reckless with it."
"That's literally all I do."
"Great. This is going to go wonderfully."
She turned to leave, tossing a final glance over her shoulder.
"And try not to look so shady all the time. It's killing your 'invisible noble' vibe."
Noel gave a lazy shrug. "Guess I'll just have to start being boring."
"Good luck with that."
The hallway emptied out as Elyra's footsteps faded down the stone stairs.
Noel stayed where he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
The weight of the coin was solid in his pocket now. Heavy—not in mass, but in meaning.
'So that's done.'
He'd gotten what he needed. The Veilweaver's Charm. A clean disguise. A ticket through locked doors.
And a favor owed.
'Yeah… that part stings.'
He pushed off the wall and started walking, slow steps echoing down the empty corridor.
It was quiet now. Really quiet.
That kind of stillness that settled in right before things started to move.
'I keep saying I want to stay invisible. Keep my distance.'
'But the cracks are showing.'
He thought back to the duel. The looks. The rumors. Elyra. The goddamn coin in his coat.
'The version of me that's supposed to blend in doesn't exist anymore. Not here. Not with this face. Not with these moves.'
Noel sighed and glanced toward the night sky through the tall window at the end of the hall.
Stars blinked faintly overhead, too far away to care.
'Screw it. One step at a time.'
'I've got the disguise.'
'Now I just need to break into a secret cult base without dying.'
He turned the corner and disappeared into the shadows of the academy halls, silent as ever.