On his way, Cyril put Tigris on his shoulder, where he hung in a familiar manner.
He followed after the principal, climbing back into the first floor of the castle.
Passing its grand corridors with floors of marble, they went further up, using a spiraling staircase.
"...?"
Cyril experienced an unusual thing. Anyone on the way didn't pay him too much attention, even though their group was quite conspicuous.
Only a cursory glance and a nod from some student, but otherwise they were ignored.
Cyril glanced at the striking red butterfly and a white tiger cub on his shoulders. They were both eagerly looking around, their eyes shining.
"They can finally see what the castle looks like from the inside!"
Cyril nodded and looked at the principal, who also stuck out among the crowd.
Margaret wore a classical robe and a large witch hat, completely out of place with today's fashion trends.
At this moment the pale woman looked back, giving him a knowing smile.
"I'm using illusion magic to make us appear as a vaguely familiar professor. Illusion magic is quite handy in everyday life."
Her smile turned a bit mischievous.
"By the way, there is only one professor. I made you appear as a cart of books following behind."
Alright...?
"Tell the beings on your shoulders to stay put, otherwise they'll leave the magic's range. Oh, and don't get too close to others."
Morpho froze and folded her wings with disappointment.
Satisfied with something, Margaret looked away, slightly increasing her pace.
In a short while they've reached the fifth floor of the castle.
The environment changed there somewhat. The corridors became more desolate, with only a few professors coming and going.
Margaret familiarly walked in front of grand double doors.
The door handles were in the form of lizard heads.
She pulled one and released, a heavy knock ringing from the door.
In a moment, the doors opened on their own, accompanied by loud creaking of wood.
The professors nearby flinched and turned at the door, their expressions first confused.
Then they increased their pace with wide eyes, quietly escaping.
Cyril blankly observed their behavior and stepped inside the doors, following after the principal.
"Unfortunately, the people here are really rigid. Maybe that will change in time."
She replied without looking back and walked towards a dark wooden desk.
It was a rather spacious office, behind the desk was a big window with a panoramic view of the Academy grounds.
To the sides of it stood bookshelves filled to the brim with books.
It's like a small library.
"This place is not quite as expensive-looking as I expected."
There was also an ordinary wooden door to the left, leading somewhere else.
Margaret sat behind her desk and stretched, her witch hat bobbing up and down.
"Now that's better. We can talk the whole day if you want to~"
Cyril calmly sat on the chair in front of the desk, contemplating for a moment.
What should I ask first...
"If you are unsure, let's ask my question!" Rhamn raised her hand with excitement.
Ignoring her, he looked at the rim of the witch's hat, where he assumed her eyes were.
"Principal Margaret, I-"
"Just Margaret is fine."
"...Margaret, I've recently discovered a place where someone experimented to combine man and demon."
The pale woman's posture didn't change. She was relaxed in her cozy soft chair.
"That place was hidden by what looked like illusion magic. Might you know anything about that?"
Margaret's thin lips widened.
"Don't worry. I am not working together with demons."
He frowned and crossed his arms.
"I've never said anything about demons being responsible."
Margaret nonchalantly nodded. "I know."
"But that's what you wanted to know, right? Or maybe..."
The frown on his face deepened as her voice became a whisper.
"Were you curious about the archon who uses illusions?"
"I am sorry to say, your mother is no longer with us. That's something certain. A new archon already replaced her."
"..."
Silence settled in the principal's office for some time.
Margaret simply stared at him, her thin smile unchanged.
Eventually Cyril relaxed in his chair, his gaze growing calm again.
"...How well did you know her?"
Margaret raised her head, staring at the ceiling. From this angle her eyes barely came into view, revealing her lavender eyelashes.
For the first time since he saw her, her thin smile slightly shook.
"Unfortunately, not well enough."
"...But let's not talk about anything unpleasant."
She looked back at him, her smile recovered, and put something on the table.
It was an elegant but clearly self-made notebook.
"Cyril, do you wish to learn illusion magic?"
"Yes! Please say yes, that seems fun."
"I am sure, as her son, you'll have the talent for it."
Cyril slowly reached for the book and opened it, taking a look at the first page.
Immediately he frowned.
Rhamn, who was peeking at his side with excitement, froze as well.
"I don't understand anything!"
The text written there only made his head hurt. The words seemed like the words he knew, but he just couldn't put them together.
He slowly put the book back on the table and looked at the principal.
Margaret's smile widened, carrying a somewhat mischievous side to it.
Involuntarily a frown emerged on his face.
"Don't look at me like that, haha." Margaret chuckled and opened the book herself, showing him the first page.
"Sorry, I should've mentioned that the contents of this spellbook require knowledge you'll only learn in your fourth year."
She then pointed at herself and nodded.
"So, why don't I teach you personally ahead of time? We'll skip the unimportant bits and focus entirely on making the spells work."
"...You are really eager to teach it to me."
Cyril mumbled as he tried his best to understand what was written in the notebook.
As she remained silent, he looked up, finding her playfully tapping her chin.
"I must admit there is a bit of scientific curiosity driving me."
Even if her eyes were obscured by the large hat, somehow he got the feeling she scanned him from top to bottom.
"Eww."
"You see, 'talent' oftentimes is the deciding factor in how far you'll go in magic."
Talent again...
"Some people are more fit to cast particular spells. It just feels right, more comfortable for them. For example, your friend, Rose, has talent in lightning magic."
"Doesn't she seem to use it often? For her, it probably just felt better to use these spells. Maybe she just thought they were cool. It could be any reason, but intuition guided her on the right path."
"It's a very elusive and subtle feeling, but it's very important."
"And I, unfortunately, don't have much talent in illusion magic."
Her pale finger pointed at Cyril.
"I am just dying to know how far this magic can go."
"..."
"Shall we begin?"
...
In this way, Cyril started a personal course on magic.
Margaret patiently pointed at the book and explained every little thing, glossing over topics that were irrelevant.
Morpho and Tigris both leaned closer, staring at the book as well.
Though the red butterfly soon grew bored and began cautiously flying around the office. But when she noticed Margaret's lack of reaction, she grew bolder and freely explored around.
Tigris, on the other hand, continued looking at the book for a little longer. Though soon confusion appeared on his face.
He shook his tiger head and dropped limp on Cyril's shoulder, falling asleep in seconds.
"-Finally, from my experience, illusion magic is easier when you use a particular emotion to permeate it and support it."
Margaret opened her palm, and suddenly a beautiful purple flower appeared in it.
As Cyril looked at it, he gained a peculiar thought.
...This would look nice in our dorm.
Margaret continued in a knowing tone.
"I find it easier when I put 'jealousy' into my illusions. This way they are more stable, more real."
"In turn, whoever is caught within them is more likely to experience that same emotion."
Cyril took his eyes off the flower.
So that's why...
Several things that happened during the lesson now appeared clearer.
"Experiment on your own to see what emotion will do best. Or maybe you won't need one at all? I am not sure how the magic will behave in your hands."
Margaret nodded, her witch hat bobbing up and down.
Then she clapped her hands and stood up.
"Let's finish for today. You don't want to spend the night here, do you?"
Cyril looked out of the panoramic view behind her. Stars were already visible in the darkened sky, the sun long gone.
It's indeed late.
"Thank you for your teachings."
Cyril stood up and lightly bowed to her.
"No need for thanks. I am also getting something out of it."
He nodded and turned around, walking out of the office.
"Visit me anytime you want! I'll always find time for Magdalene's son!"
...
Cyril went down the spiraling staircase and walked through the castle's corridors.
There were almost no students around at this time. A few staff members hurriedly walked here and there. Passing him, they would throw him a confused stare, but no one spoke to him.
Tigris was long since sleeping, and even Morpho was resting on his shoulder, her wings drooped somewhat low.
Cyril, however, was still absorbed in what he learned, going over and over the contents in his head.
In the end he only got a headache, so he stopped.
Inevitably other thoughts started crawling in instead.
I didn't ask her much about my mother... or demons in general.
"We always have the time for it. She didn't seem that willing to talk anyway."
"Let's focus on the positives. With our talent we'll be using illusion magic in no time!"
Talent...
Cyril frowned, finding the word bitter.
Margaret said she had no talent, and yet she conjured up a whole forest for several hours. I don't see how that makes sense.
Rhamn walked at his side, her enthusiastic smile slowly dampening.
She sighed and sent him a look.
"She is a powerful mage. I am sure she knows what she is talking about."
I wonder about that...
Doesn't her confidence make you feel like proving her wrong? Find someone without talent and help them grow to the top?
Rhamn's face turned blank.
"No." She shrugged.
"We are talented. That's all that matters."
"..."
Cyril shook his head, getting rid of any stray thoughts.
As he passed the entrance into the training hall, he noticed two staff members leaving there with helpless faces.
"To still be training after so long... I've tried my best, but she is too stubborn."
"Don't mind it. Even if she gets harmed, she'll easily get treated."
The two went away, while Cyril stopped and looked at the doors leading into the training hall.
His sharp hearing picked up distinct sounds of a spear swinging through the air, as well as a familiar voice.
Rhamn rolled her eyes and disappeared.
Cyril ignored her and walked inside, Tigris peacefully sleeping on his shoulder, Morpho awake on the other.
The training hall was completely empty, save for an auburn-haired girl training with a spear in the middle of it.
In the vastness of this space, her figure looked somewhat lonely.
Myra, her face full of sweat, took big greedy gulps of air as she took a break.
Her eyes glared in the distance as her hand gripped the spear tighter.
Suddenly a red butterfly flew in front of her, startling her.
"Morpho...?"
The insect twitched her antennae and landed on her shoulder.
Myra's face lit up with realization, and she turned around.
She immediately grew confused.
"A cart with books...?"
"..."
Margaret hasn't released the illusion...?
"...We'll pay her back double eventually."
With a blank face Cyril walked closer, stepping right in front of Myra.
"It's me."
"Ah!"
Myra stepped back, her face colored with surprise.
"How did you...?"
"Do you want to try learning a new technique?"
He immediately asked.
"Eh?"
Myra slowly nodded, her face still confused.
"Sure..."
"Follow me."
Cyril turned around, walking away without looking back.
Morpho fluttered her wings on Myra's shoulder, as if to urge her.
Myra began slowly walking after him, putting away the wooden spear back where it belonged on the way.
"Are you sure it's a good idea?"
Yes.