The prince and the sorcerer stopped before a large, dark wooden door adorned with intricate carvings. Nix found himself mesmerized by the delicate etchings, which seemed to shift and move as if alive. For a moment, he was lost in the fluidity of the patterns, his mind wandering into a trance. 

“Nix?” Ambrose’s voice broke through the haze, pulling him back. 

“Hmm? What did you say?” Nix asked, blinking as he returned to the present.

Ambrose’s smile was mischievous as he leaned closer, his arms snaking around Nix's waist. “I said we’ve arrived, but I believe I deserve a reward for bringing you here.” His voice dropped into a teasing whisper, sending a shiver down Nix's spine.

“A reward?” Nix repeated, his innocent eyes wide with surprise. 

Ambrose's lips curled into a smile as he gently tilted Nix’s chin, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “That will suffice—for now.”

Nix’s cheeks flushed a deep red, but before he could respond, a gentle throat-clearing startled them both. The couple jumped, spinning around to see Professor Ithil standing in the doorway, his smile kind but his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from His Highness and the young sorcerer?” Professor Ithil’s voice was smooth, carrying the warmth of a familiar elder.

“Good day, Professor,” Ambrose greeted, unfazed. “Nix wished to see you. May we come in?”

“Of course, of course. I’ve just brewed some tea,” the elf said, stepping aside to let them in.

Nix followed Ambrose into the study, and if he thought the prince’s personal library was impressive, Professor Ithil’s collection left him speechless. Bookshelves towered toward the ceiling, and piles of scrolls and manuscripts littered every available surface. The room exuded an air of quiet wisdom, draped in royal purples and golds, with glass cabinets filled with potions and vials catching the glint of the hearthfire. 

They settled onto plush pillows by the fire, where a low table held a pot of tea and a plate of strawberry jam cookies. Nix fiddled nervously with the hem of his robe, still flustered from the kiss and being caught in such an intimate moment. 

“What can I do for you, my dear sorcerer?” Professor Ithil asked, his voice gentle as he poured the tea.

Nix cleared his throat, his earlier determination surfacing. “I want to practice water magic,” he began, his voice soft but resolute. “I know the art is considered lost, but maybe there’s a derivative—like how plant magic is tied to earth magic.”

Ambrose, seated beside him, perked up at the mention of water magic. His expression shifted from relaxed to attentive, clearly intrigued by what Nix was proposing.

Professor Ithil stirred his tea, his face thoughtful. “Water magic, hmm…” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his sharp eyes studying Nix as though assessing his potential. “I believe I know someone who could help you. But I imagine you’d like something more immediate.” He smiled knowingly.

Nix nodded eagerly. “Yes. I want to try something while we’re at sea tomorrow.”

Ambrose turned to Nix, his brow furrowing with concern. “What are you planning, Nix?”

Nix met his gaze earnestly. “I’m still working out the details, but I promise, I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Ambrose hesitated for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line before he sighed. “Alright. I trust you.”

Professor Ithil rose and moved to one of the many shelves. “I don’t have a specific text on water magic,” he explained, “but there is an old Magic Academy textbook with a brief passage that may help. If I recall, it’s a bit difficult to read, but you might be able to make sense of it.”

He retrieved a worn, light blue tome from a high shelf, its pages yellowed with age. Flipping through with practiced ease, he found the section he had mentioned and handed the book to Nix. 

Ambrose leaned in to watch as Nix opened the faded page. The text was nearly illegible, the ink worn away by time. “I’m sorry, Nix. I’ve done my best to restore it, but it’s still difficult to read.”

Nix furrowed his brow in concentration. As he stared at the page, something shifted. The words, once faint, darkened as though freshly inked. The text became clear, written in bold, flowing script. 

Without thinking, Nix read aloud, his voice steady:

“You have completed five lessons in beginning water magic. In this unit, we will discuss the properties of water and how to use them. Chapter One: Ice. Here is a simple incantation to summon a light frost…”

He spoke the Latin incantation fluently, his voice steady and confident. As he finished, he looked up, only to find both Ambrose and Professor Ithil staring at him in stunned silence.

“What?” Nix asked, his confusion growing.

Professor Ithil’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Nix, my boy… you made the words reappear.”

“And froze my tea,” Ambrose added, turning his cup upside down to show the frosty contents.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” Nix stammered, his eyes wide as he glanced at his hands, still tingling with magic.

Professor Ithil approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You did nothing wrong, Nix. In fact, this is extraordinary. You possess a rare gift—one that could change everything. I know you’ll clear Hamford’s name, but when you return from your voyage, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Nix blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Meet? Who?”

The professor smiled, pulling out an old, hand-drawn map. “An old mermaid witch—older than me, even. She lives beyond the southern isles. She may be able to help you unlock the true potential of your magic.”

Ambrose shuddered at the word *mermaid*, but Nix was too eager for answers to dwell on the prince's discomfort. He looked to Ambrose, seeking his reassurance, and the prince nodded with a smile.

“If she can help you, I suppose I’ll have to get used to the idea,” Ambrose teased, his expression softening as he squeezed Nix’s hand.

Nix, filled with anticipation, quickly agreed to the professor’s offer, eager to learn more about the magic within him.

---

On their way back to the prince’s quarters, Ambrose carried the large blue tome in one hand, his other firmly clasped in Nix’s. The silence between them was comfortable, but Nix's mind buzzed with thoughts of the day’s discoveries. He was grateful beyond words for the support of his friends—especially Ambrose.

When they reached the room, Ambrose set the book on a nearby table and began to undo his formal attire, stretching as the long day wore on. The scent of warm food filled the room, but Nix remained lost in thought, his heart swelling with gratitude. He turned to Ambrose, who was now munching on a piece of bread.

“What’s on your mind?” Ambrose asked, noticing Nix’s pensive expression as he wrapped his arms around the sorcerer from behind.

“Thank you,” Nix whispered, his voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Ambrose tightened his hold, kissing the back of Nix’s neck. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. You’re amazing on your own, Nix. I should be the one thanking you… for letting me be part of your journey.”

With that, Ambrose turned Nix around and kissed him deeply, the warmth of the gesture calming Nix’s anxious heart. 

They held each other for a long time, the weight of the day finally easing as they embraced. And in that moment, Nix knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t facing them alone.