Chapter 128 - You’re Welcome

Chapter 128: 128 - You’re Welcome

The envelope stayed completely still in Adrien’s hand. Absolute Mana Sense had already swept over it twice in search of anything unusual, and there was no hidden spell, no strange mana signature, no curse buried in the wax and no reaction from the paper itself. As far as he could tell, it was exactly what it looked like: a mysterious letter from somebody he did not know.

Adrien sat at his desk and picked up a thin letter opener from beside the inkstand. A long time had passed since he last opened a proper letter, and longer still since he had written one himself.

The motion pulled up memories he had not expected. Childhood birthdays, handwritten notes, school cards and all the small paper habits people abandoned once messages turned instant came back for a moment, which made the black wax seal feel oddly familiar.

The seal cracked cleanly under the blade, and Adrien drew out a single sheet of thick, pale-yellow paper.

The quality announced itself at once, a faint texture beneath his fingers, and the writing across it came from somebody who practiced calligraphy rather than somebody in a hurry.

His eyes moved to the first line.

Invitation to Aetherion Institute of Magic.

Adrien stared at the title for several seconds. ’Aetherion Institute of Magic... It definitely sounds like something out of a fantasy story, but I’ve never heard of it.’

The original Adrien’s memories offered nothing either.

No lessons, no stories from Evelyne, no mention from Alaric, and nothing from the nobles he had met since awakening tied back to that name.

An institute devoted to magic was simple enough to understand from the title, though why a place he had never heard of would send something addressed specifically to him was another matter.

He had awakened less than a few months ago.

His progress was abnormal and his talent was far from ordinary, yet a private invitation from an unknown institution felt like being told Harvard had noticed somebody who had only just learned what a university was.

Adrien lowered his gaze and began reading.

Hello, Adrien. This letter is for you specifically, so please don’t hand it to someone else and pretend you never received it. You are formally invited to Aetherion Institute of Magic.

Adrien stopped after the first few sentences. ’Formally invited? That’s how you’re writing a formal invitation?’

Nothing about the tone was formal. Whoever had written it sounded less like the head of an important magical institution and more like somebody sending a personal note to an acquaintance of many years.

He read on.

There is a fair chance you have never heard the name before, which would be understandable. Aetherion does not spend much time advertising itself. What matters is simple: we study magic. Properly.

Not court tricks or family traditions passed down without anyone remembering why they work, and not half-learned spells people repeat for twenty years without ever understanding them. Magic itself.

Adrien’s attention sharpened. That read far better than any polished academy description would have, especially the emphasis on understanding magic rather than merely collecting spells.

Aetherion devoted itself entirely to magic, though the wording hinted at something past basic education. Research, structures, Affinities, Aspects and perhaps fields he had not encountered yet could all live inside a place like that, and somehow they had chosen to invite him.

I would like you to come. If the name means nothing to you, ask your little sister Ariane. If she somehow fails you, ask your mother, Evelyne. One of them should be able to explain exactly what sort of place is writing to you.

Adrien paused again, his eyes staying on their names. ’Ariane and Mother know it?’

That changed everything. If the writer felt confident enough to name them both, Aetherion could not simply be some obscure school hidden in the middle of nowhere.

More than that, whoever wrote the letter knew his family. Not House Clairmont as a political entity, but Ariane and Evelyne specifically, and the wording ran far too casual to be copied out of a noble registry.

Adrien continued more carefully.

You are probably wondering why you were invited. That would be a reasonable question, especially considering how recently you awakened. Most people in your position would assume it was because of your family name, your recent achievements or the fact that half the kingdom seems incapable of going more than a few weeks without hearing about you.

Those are interesting, but no.

Adrien leaned back as his confusion grew instead of clearing. If none of those were the reason, he had no guess at what the writer actually wanted from him.

They knew he had awakened recently. They knew his family, and they knew enough about his recent actions to comment on how often his name circulated through the kingdom. Yet no name sat anywhere on the page.

Only one final part remained.

If you still doubt why this invitation was sent to you, then I suppose I should make things easier. You never thanked me, by the way.

You’re welcome for the grimoire.

Adrien went rigid, his eyes locked on that last word while the SSS-rank Lightning Manual rose straight to the front of his mind. The mysterious place, the circumstances that brought the grimoire into his hands and everything that followed in Elyndor suddenly linked together in a way they never had before.

He read the final lines.

Think about the invitation. I suspect you will.

— Director, Aetherion Institute of Magic

No personal name beyond the black raven pressed into the wax. The director had decided that revealing the connection to the grimoire counted as identification enough.

Adrien lowered the letter slowly.

The person who arranged for him to receive the Lightning Manual had just contacted him directly, and that single detail answered one question while raising several more.

The grimoire had never reached him by coincidence.

Somebody had known who he was, had deliberately placed an SSS-rank Item in his path and had watched closely enough afterward to know what came of it. Now that same person was inviting him to a magical institute both Evelyne and Ariane were expected to recognise.

Adrien studied the letter again, its casual wording carrying far more weight than it had a minute earlier. ’So all of that was intentional.’