Alekos doesn’t look up from their book as they point to the window, “Prove it. Jump out the window.”
“I...excuse me?” Kair stutters. “That’s suicide, I’m not going to-- how does that prove anything?”
“Ignore them,” another of the students tries to shove Kair away from Alekos’s table. “They’re trying to get a rise out of you.”
“You’ll live,” Alekos says while scribbling in their notes again. Kair, confused and fed up, brushes her friend’s hands away and shoves the nearby window open. She places a foot on the sill and turns to Alekos.
“Will you?” Alekos finally looks up from their back, looking completely exhausted. “Or am I lying? You’re the genius, aren’t you? Figure it out.”
Kair’s friends drag her from the window and shut it. Kair glares at Alekos through their arms but Alekos doesn’t look to her. Attention already focused on their books again.
It’s not until two months later that Kair gets her answer. Dragging her bag out the gates of Novek, already anticipating the long ride home, her eyes catch some odd stones on the gate. Runes. Old runes, she can barely piece together what they’re saying. Grabbing some others from the throng of people ready to spend the holiday with their family, they piece it together as a protection charm. No harm will befall any within it’s borders.
“It’s repeated so often I’m certain it’d protect you from getting stabbed,” one of the linguists muses as xe point out the repeating sigils. “Must be there to ward off violence, or accidents.”
“Potion explosions, someone not using a faux sword, falling down stairs or --gods forbid -- the roof, blessings backfiring, things like that.”
Kair’s jaw drops. The linguist continues to chatter as Kair looks back to the library window where Alekos sits, already studying.
How the hell did they know?
