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“It does.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Provided one remembers that not all knowledge deserves pursuit.”

The statement hovered between them, the implication clear.

Something clicked into place.

This wasn’t merely caution.

Master Vaelor feared something.

Not her. Not even what her intellect might uncover.

He feared change. Instability. The kind of discovery that could unravel everything he had spent his life preserving alongside the Conclave. And perhaps he feared scholars like her most of all—those unwilling to pledge themselves entirely to either side.

“I appreciate the concern, Master Vaelor,” Elowynn said evenly while gathering the remainder of her papers. “Though I would rather understand the contradictions than pretend they do not exist.”

Something colder than his usual scrutiny or misplaced amusement entered his expression. Elowynn met that gaze with steady confidence. She had spent too long tempering her questions and curiosity to accommodate the expectations of others. Whatever Vaelor thought of her no longer mattered. She would continue her work regardless.

With a respectful bow of her head and the crossing of two fingers against her collarbone, Elowynn bid him a farewell. She could feel his heavy gaze on her back the entire way out of the lecture hall.

Once outside onto the upper bridges, Elowynn let out a long breath as the warm Dawnmere evening enveloped her. Veylspire shined beneath the rising moonlight, and the sounds of the distant observatory bells soothed her anxious heart.

It was all so beautiful in its complexity.

Still, she knew that somewhere deep beneath the city, deep beneath the very mountains surrounding them, the aethercurrents continued singing through the dark while she had begun learning how power truly worked.

A Letter to Caelyn

Dawnmere, 750 A.V.

Caelyn,

I am writing this from one of the upper western terraces while a summer storm rolls through the mountains around the Spire. The lightning keeps illuminating the observatory domes every few moments and making the entire city look like it exists half inside the heavens themselves. It is very beautiful. You would probably hate the height of these bridges, though. Some of them sway during strong winds, and I continue believing it is from an irresponsible architectural choice. But I am continuously reassured that even stone bridges need to have some give in them so they do not buckle or crack from movement.

So, all that to say, it is normal.

And before you panic, no, I haven't fallen off one. The walls are very high, and some are even enclosed.

Your letter arrived three suns ago, and I have reread it so many times. I miss Lumenshire in little ways lately. The smell of saltwater in the corridors. The sound of waves beneath the cliffs. Even the draft beside the eastern library windows that made everyone else miserable except me, apparently. And you were right.

I do love Veylspire.

But stars above, this place is exhausting! Everything here is politics disguised as scholarship. Every conversation feels layered beneath ten others. The Auric Conclave and Ascendant Collegium disagree on nearly everything, and I have somehow accidentally made both factions interested in me, which I am increasingly realizing may have been a terrible development.

There is a senior archivist here known as Master Vaelor. He is one of the heads of the Conclave. I have decided he is one of the most irritating men alive. He watches everything. Every lecture. Every conversation involving aethercurrent theory or resonance instability or the Conclave. He speaks as though every word has already been measured three times before leaving his mouth. And he keeps trying to subtly guide me toward the Conclave exclusively because apparently House Selvicta once naturally aligned with preservation and restraint. I think he expected me to just agree with him.

Unfortunately for both of us, I inherited my father’s stubbornness. And perhaps some of yours as well.

I have been studying old Vigil-era records involving harmonic resonance and current instability. The deeper I dig into the archives, the more contradictions I uncover buried beneath centuries of observatory reports. Nobody else notices, or nobody wants to acknowledge it publicly, though. With Lora’s encouragement, I finally presented some of my findings during a harmonic symposium last evening. I honestly thought I might faint beforehand. There were scholars from both factions present, and I could physically feel them waiting for me to fail. But once I began speaking, they all quieted down and listened to me. I argued that neither faction is entirely correct. Restricting interaction with the aethercurrents limits our understanding, but reckless manipulation risks worsening instability already present beneath them. The contradiction is assuming the currents can survive either extreme indefinitely.

You would have enjoyed the expressions in the room afterward. Several scholars looked offended while others looked smug, then everyone started arguing simultaneously. Lora says this means I have officially become a “problem” within the Spire. I am choosing to interpret that positively. There is enough negativity in this world.

Master Vaelor cornered me afterward. He implied my interest in Collegium methodologies was concerning and reminded me that “not all knowledge deserves pursuit.” That sentence has stuck unpleasantly in my head ever since because I think he actually believes that, and perhaps that is what makes me uncertain about him. He is not cruel in the obvious sense, but he genuinely believes caution preserves the world. But I can sense there is fear beneath everything he says.

And I think he is beginning to fear me a little as well. Which, admittedly, is somewhat satisfying.

The Conclave and Collegium are both right, and both wrong. Somewhere between them lies a truth neither side seems willing to seek. I think power in this city comes from understanding contradictions before everyone else does. Lora insists it is only a matter of time before I start another war.

Speaking of Lora, she continues treating me like some sort of emotionally repressed research project. Last sun she physically dragged me from the archives because apparently surviving solely on tea and aethercurrent records is “not sustainable human behavior.”