While she waited, she sketched a sprig of Holly in her sketchbook.
The tweezers were set aside, and the only sound in the room was the soft SCRATCH of her pencil tip on the paper.
Richard pulled a bookmark from his own book.
It was the one Lillian had given him last year, made of heavy watercolor paper, with a wash of a laurel branch painted on it.
"This," he said, placing the bookmark in the center of the desk. "You gave this to me."
Lillian was caught off guard and clearly a little shy.
"Why so suddenly... I just whipped that up on a whim."
"I’ve always wanted to ask, why a laurel?" Richard asked.
The girl looked down, twirling the pencil in her fingers.
"Because it’s easy to draw. The leaves have a regular shape, and the veins are clear."
Richard smiled, turned to a page in his book, and began to tell a story related to the origin of the laurel.
A river god’s daughter, unable to outrun the god pursuing her and unwilling to be caught, cried out to her father for help.
Her feet took root in the soil, her fingers sprouted into branches, and her hair turned into leaves.
The god pursuing her could never touch her again.
He broke off a branch and, from then on, revered the laurel as a sacred tree, weaving its leaves into crowns for victors and poets.
"...She became a tree," Lillian repeated softly.
"Mhm."
"So, did she escape?"
Richard thought for a moment.
"Yes and no."
"The god could never touch her again. In that sense, she escaped."
"But she was no longer herself," Lillian finished for him.
The room was quiet for a while.
The daylight was just right, falling on the finished drawing of the laurel branch.
Lillian looked at the drawing for a moment, then said suddenly,
"Actually, I think that’s quite nice."
"Hm?"
"Think about it," she said, her voice soft. "If she hadn’t become a tree, the god would have caught her, and the story would have ended."
"By becoming a tree, she remained."
"For thousands of years, people have still been drawing her, writing about her, and weaving her leaves into crowns to wear on their heads."
She looked up, her gray-blue eyes reflecting the sliver of sky filtering in.
"To remain is better than to disappear."
Richard recalled something his Mother had once said.
The most terrifying price behind the Curtain is that you yourself are changing, but you don’t realize you’re changing.
What Lillian liked was the exact opposite.
To fix something in place, making it eternal, forever paused in its most beautiful moment.
As Lillian spoke, something seemed to occur to her.
She took a small brass key from her shirt pocket and placed it in the center of the desk.
It was identical to her own.
"For you," she said.
Richard glanced at the key.
"I had it copied," the girl explained quickly, afraid he would get the wrong idea.
"This way, you can come in when I’m not here."
Richard took the small key in his hand.
The brass had been newly filed, its edges still a bit sharp.
This place, which Lillian had kept hidden for years, never letting anyone inside.
From this day on, he could enter as he pleased.
"Thank you," he said.
"Don’t mention it." Lillian picked up the tweezers again.
"...It’s not very nice inside. Just don’t bring anyone else here."
"Of course."
The tip of the girl’s tweezers reached into the bottle, her movements a little faster than before, likely to hide her feelings.
Breaking open the box couldn’t be done at home, nor could it be done on the third floor of the library.
The small reading room was separated from the second-floor study area by only a thin layer of floor tiles; any sound would be easily heard.
Since Lillian had given him the key to her secret base, he might as well do his work here.
It was Friday morning, and Lillian happened to be going to the woods to the west to gather things.
She wasn’t surprised to hear that he wanted to do some research alone in the room.
Richard had already told Lillian his plans, and he brought everything he needed.
The Tooth Needle wouldn’t be needed today; the thing in this box couldn’t be pierced, nor would it feel pain if it were.
He brought two steel pipes, and carefully weighed portions of Many-eyed Black Moss and Fog Bell.
The Branch Office had supplied two standard steel pipes, and he had spent a week repeatedly polishing them to completely remove the anti-oxidation coating on the inner walls.
He also had his usual Divination kit: a Copper Disc, Talisman Stones, and a small half-bottle of Dangling Star Sand.
After his last class, he circled around to the old garden behind the main building.
The Holly and boxwood bushes were blurred shadows, and the gravel path was covered in half-melted snow, without a single footprint.
Richard walked up to the small hut and opened the door with the brass key Lillian had copied for him.
Once inside, he casually locked the door from within.
Before he began, he wanted to perform a Divination first.
Not to read the box, but to read himself.
In Lady Mary’s handwritten manuscript, there was this annotation:
"You cannot see the bottom of the well, but you can see the hand you reach down with.
What you cannot ask about directly, ask about indirectly, through yourself."
Richard suddenly understood.
He couldn’t ask, ’Is the box dangerous?’ but he could ask, ’What will happen to me if I touch it?’
Change the subject from the untouchable object to "myself."
And in Divination, questions about oneself yielded the most abundant and accurate feedback.
This was indirect Divination, a roundabout approach.
He placed the Copper Disc in the center of the desk, pinched a small amount of Dangling Star Sand, and sprinkled it in a circle along the disc’s edge.
First, he formed the question clearly in his mind.
’If I touch this box, will the outcome for me be good or ill?’
The subject was "I."
The Divination method he used this time was with Talisman Stones, a technique he had fully mastered.
Grabbing a handful, he scattered them into the Copper Disc.
The stones rolled around in the disc a few times before settling.
Richard leaned over to read them.
The Hammer, near the center of the disc. Action is key.
Next to the Hammer was the Wheat. Action brings reward.
So far, it was a good sign.
But in the outer circle, there was an S-shape and a Spiral.
A roundabout path, repetition.
The reward wouldn’t be grasped all at once; he had to approach it indirectly, again and again, without rushing.
The Water Droplet had rolled to the edge of the disc, signifying some unfinished business, but it was far away, so it wasn’t a major concern.
Another stone had rolled right out of the Copper Disc and landed on the desktop.
Something was no longer on the board.
Richard stared at the stone that had rolled out for a moment, and slowly understood.
When Professor Mortimer was breaking the Seal, he had suppressed the danger as well.
The thing that could have killed him had been removed from the table.
Richard gathered the stones, mixed them again, and asked the second question.
’For me, when and in what state would it be safest to act?’
Again, he framed the question around himself.
He cast the stones.
This time, the stone closest to the center was a New Moon.
The New Moon spoke of change and growth, but also of being "refilled."
Beside the New Moon lay a Double Circle—Relationship.
Richard pondered for a moment.
’New Moon, refilled.’
’The Double Circle represents this room and this key, the relationship between me and this safe corner.’
The so-called "safest time" was never some deliberately chosen auspicious day.
As long as his mind was clear and he was alone and undisturbed, that was the best time.
He didn’t need to rely on some heaven-sent opportunity, only on preparing his own state of being.
Richard let out a long breath.
’Time to get down to business.’
He placed the ebony box in the center of the desk.
First, he lit a Candle and set it far off on a corner of the desk. The Candle’s flame stood steady.
He had practiced the entire Silencing Technique several times after receiving the materials.
He held a steel pipe above the box, and Ether flowed out with the exhale of his third Breathing cycle.
The layer of herbs inside the pipe ignited with a HISS, instantly creating a vacuum zone in the surrounding area.
Because he wasn’t yet proficient with the Technique and was using substitute materials, the vacuum zone was quite small, but it was enough for now.
The Candle flame was pressed down by half.
Richard quickly adjusted the angle of the pipe, blanketing the box with the expelled vacuum zone.
His own Breathing was also suppressed until it was almost inaudible.
The vacuum zone also enveloped his microcirculation.
In this vacuum, his inspiration lost most of its Spirituality, leaving only the most basic senses of sight and touch.
The Silence vacuum was impartial to all activity on the Ether Layer.
While it suppressed the thing inside the box, it also suppressed the Caster himself.
Richard waited for about ten seconds to confirm the vacuum had stabilized.
Only then did he free up one hand, while the other continued to hold the steel pipe steady.
He found the first, crudely marked turning point on the temporary Seal that Aries had placed over the box’s main Seal.
The first application of pressure was extremely light, just a brush against the turning point.
The box did not react.
The second application of pressure was slightly heavier.
According to Professor Mortimer’s description, the thing inside the box was supposed to make a sound when the Ether Flow was disturbed.
But inside the vacuum, it had no idea someone was outside, dismantling it.

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