'Ancient Humans' sounds like a conspiracy theory, but why not try it?
Without expecting too much of it, Cyril read through the unusual book picked by Rose.
According to it, long before the Empire came here, this land was once home to a nation of people, though not much remained from their culture.
Murals were discovered showing people using what seem to be spells. So they were mages too.
Cyril quickly read through the book, trying to find any relevant information. With each page he was slowly getting more and more engrossed in reading it.
While a few ruins can be found across the land, there are no signs of any big settlements. That's strange... Maybe they are yet to be discovered?
"Maybe they didn't have one?"
The Ailanthus castle was once a ruin from that nation.
"That must be why it looks so much better than anything the Empire builds."
...
An unknown period of time passed.
On Myra's part of the table several more picture books were lying now, all from the same series. In her hands she held 'volume 12,' placing it slightly to the side of her body, letting the butterfly on her shoulder get a better view as well.
Dark circles were visible under her eyes.
Suddenly the sound of a chair moving attracted both of their attentions.
Myra quickly placed the book on the table and stood up, assuming a battle-ready pose.
"What happened?"
In her view appeared Cyril, who suddenly leaned over the book he was reading, his eyes widened.
At this moment he turned to look at her with a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Nothing."
With this Cyril returned to reading, no longer paying her any attention.
Myra only awkwardly twirled a strand of her auburn hair and sat back down, the butterfly on her shoulder gently tapping her, as if consoling.
Cyril carefully read through the text once again.
In a ruin found in the Woodsfolk Plains, a mural was discovered depicting a strange ritual. It showed numerous people in front of a winged monster, each listening to an entity within their bodies, their state similar to prayer.
After observing the illustration provided, he raised his head and glanced at Rhamn. She was right beside him, leaning over the desk in a similar manner.
"So does that make me a god? Was I worshiped by ancient people?"
"Seems appropriate, I am indeed rather divine." She said without any shame.
"Do you have the urge to worship me now? Don't be shy, I am pretty lovable, I know." Rhamn crossed her arms with unbelievable levels of smugness.
She was only met with a blank stare from Cyril.
This can't be right. It would be too unfair towards the world to have a god like this.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
You know what it means.
Besides, this explanation doesn't exactly fit with our situation or how you've described it in the past.
Finding his words reasonable, Ramn's spirits deflated, her back no longer perfectly straight.
Still, this is the biggest match with my state today. An entity that spoke to people from within.
Perhaps that mural shows not a group of people praying for salvation from a monster but people capable of transforming into one?
The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. With renewed energy he flipped over the pages, trying to find out more about the author, though a frown quickly formed on his face.
Anonymous? That's unlucky...
He closed the book and relaxed in the chair, resting his eyes for a few seconds.
At this moment someone came over, attracting his attention.
"Hey guys. How are you enjoying this place?" Cedric said, wearing a sunny but tired smile.
Rose eyed him for a few seconds but said nothing, ignoring him completely.
"It's... alright. The number of books here is a little overwhelming, though." Replied Myra after a yawn.
"I can see what you mean." Cedric slowly nodded and hesitantly continued, "...Are you guys planning on going back to your rooms? It's already 4 am, we are supposed to show up for the lecture at 9."
"What a busybody."
At his words, Myra glanced at Cyril nearby, while Rose was still unresponsive.
"Worry about yourself. If you are tired, then go to your room. I'll be fine." Cyril flatly replied.
"Actually, I went there already. I just couldn't get any sleep and decided to see if the texts here can bring me some, haha."
Cyril blankly stared at Cedric's positive demeanor, then glanced at Myra, his words were meant for her just as much.
However, the moment he did so, he noticed the pitiful butterfly on her shoulder, who was barely staying awake at this hour.
"Oh no! We are so sorry, Morpho! We forgot about time." Rhamn exclaimed with panic written all over her face.
The butterfly weakly twitched her antennae in a 'Don't worry about me' manner.
So, just as Cedric was awkwardly waving goodbye and Myra's face was becoming a little bit more tired, Cyril stood up from his chair.
"However, it's indeed late. I'll be going now."
Cedric's face brightened up immediately, showing relief.
Rose raised her head, glancing at the time display, then at her own stack of books, and finally at her notebook.
With great reluctance, she sighed and silently started packing up as well.
"Unfortunately, we aren't allowed to take any books with us..." She mumbled to herself, resigned.
Her words stunned Cyril for a moment, and he briefly considered staying again.
It's fine. It's a short book, and I skimmed through it all. There is nothing left to learn here.
I got a lead, that's enough.
Making up his mind, Cyril walked up to Myra, and Morpho slowly flew onto his shoulder, eager to get some rest.
Soon, they all walked together back towards the elevator.
...
After leaving Rose and Cedric, Cyril finally reached his room, Myra following right behind him.
On the way, she was quiet, almost unusually so.
"Hey, do you mind if..." She said as he was about to enter his room.
Cyril sharply turned around. "What?"
"What do you think if I..." She went silent again, her face aiming at the floor and slowly turning red.
Then, she raised her head with renewed energy. "Oh! What do you think about having a late-night party? We can call Rose too. It will be fun! It's this late already, I feel there is no point in sleeping this little."
She hastily said it all in one go, her eyes wandering about.
"Myra." Cyril said coldly, making her stop moving.
"No."
He slammed the door right in front of her, disappearing inside of his room.
Myra stood still with her mouth open and eyes widened.
...
Now within the luxurious apartments offered by the Tower, Cyril took a deep breath and walked towards the bed.
I don't have time for her. How come she is so capable and yet so immature at the same time?
Cyril sat on the bed, Morpho flew down from his shoulder, crash-landing on the pillow.
Remembering something, he pulled out a necklace from under his clothes.
And this thing. With her behavior, could this really be for tracking somehow?
"Definitely! She is an obsessed stalker, nothing more."
But as he observed the necklace, a different thought process gradually began emerging in his head.
She is not an inexperienced young girl, she is a capable fighter with knowledge of many secrets. Behind her shy demeanor hides something more secretive.
He slowly frowned, the necklace in his hands glistening under the light from the lamps.
The images of how Myra acted so far flashed in his mind as an unusual guess slowly formed.
What if...
"There is no way."
Cyril got up from the bed, a bit of energy returning to him.
He walked towards the door and opened it, planning to head into the neighboring room.
But as he did so, he immediately froze. His target was still standing right outside, wearing the same expression.
Seeing him again, Myra's eyes refocused.
"...Did you forget something?"
"Come in, let's talk." Cyril stepped aside, inviting her in.
Myra slowly walked inside, freezing up once she was in the middle of the corridor.
"Take a seat." Cyril closed the door behind him and pointed to a chair in the living room.
Myra stiffly walked up there and sat down, her back perfectly straight.
"Did you change your mind? The late-night party is happening?" She said with a strained smile.
Cyril ignored her question and instead pulled out the necklace from under his clothes, showing it to her.
"Why did you give us these?"
"It makes me more at ease, that's-"
"The real reason."
Myra closed her mouth, her hands clenching into fists.
After staring to the side for a few long seconds, she sighed and turned to face him.
"The Tower is going to be attacked soon. Defensive magical items will be useful."
"..."
...Just as I thought, she is not going to do something without a valid reason.
"How would she even know something like this?"
Cyril nodded after a delay, his face still calm.
"Who will attack it?"
Myra stared him straight in the eyes, her face becoming solemn.
"Demons."