Andrellia

17. Felicia

Arthur followed Felicia through the grand archway of the university, his senses still reeling from the revelation at the docks. The bustling harbor market was a world away from the serene halls of academia, the air thick with the scent of old books and the murmur of hushed conversations. Yet, even here, whispers of the "Star of Andrellia" followed them like an unwelcome shadow.

Students clustered in groups, their animated discussions punctuated by worried frowns and hurried glances. A pair of scholars, their robes adorned with the intricate sigils of their respective departments, argued heatedly over the implications of the wrecked ship. Even the usually jovial cafeteria staff exchanged hushed tones as they cleared away breakfast dishes.

Felicia, ever perceptive, caught Arthur's furrowed brow. "News travels fast in these halls," she remarked, a hint of apprehension in her voice. "The entire school's buzzing about the Star of Andrellia."

Arthur grunted, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his now-concealed sword. Excalibur might be masquerading as an ordinary blade, but the memory of the weapon's power was a comforting reassurance. He wasn't sure what awaited him in this strange world, but he wouldn't go in unprepared.

"Do they know...?" he began, his voice low, "the extent of the damage?"

Felicia shrugged, her brow furrowing in thought. "Not all the details are clear yet. The city guard sealed off the docks, claiming it's a matter of 'national security.' But rumors abound - pirates, magical storms, even... krakens."

Arthur snorted, a sound that drew a few curious glances their way. "Krakens? In a harbor like this? They must be scraping the bottom of the rumor barrel."

A wry smile touched Felicia's lips. "Perhaps. But the uncertainty only fuels the speculation. Professor Hemlock, my... eccentric history professor, is likely pulling his beard out in anticipation. He's been obsessed with maritime disasters ever since that incident with the cursed fishing net."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Cursed fishing net? Sounds like the professor might be more interested in folklore than actual history."

Felicia chuckled. "Oh, Professor Hemlock is a walking contradiction. He scoffs at anything remotely fantastical, yet he spends his days buried in dusty tomes about mythical creatures and lost civilizations. You'll see for yourself soon enough."

They reached a heavy oak door adorned with a brass plaque that read "Department of History." Arthur took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him within. This visit to the university was supposed to be a simple errand, a mundane task in a world anything but normal.

A wave of relief washed over Arthur as they entered. The hushed whispers and worried glances of the student body were replaced by the familiar scent of aging paper and the comforting silence of academia. Professor Ivan, a portly man with a neatly trimmed beard and spectacles perched on his nose, looked up from behind a towering stack of books. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he spotted Felicia.

"Ah, Miss Harcourt! Back so soon? And you've brought a guest, I see." His voice held a pleasant rumble, like distant thunder.

Felicia stepped forward, a smile gracing her lips. "Professor Ivan, this is Arthur. He's... a friend of mine from out of town."

Arthur offered a curt nod, his hand instinctively hovering near the disguised Excalibur at his hip. The professor's keen eyes seemed to pierce right through him, but his expression remained amiable.

Before Arthur could introduce himself properly, a whirlwind of energy materialized beside Felicia. A young man, no older than Arthur himself, with a mop of unruly brown hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes, practically tackled Felicia in a hug.

"Feli! I'm so glad you came in today!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. He pulled back, his smile widening as he finally noticed Arthur. "Whose your friend?"

Felicia disentangled herself from the hug, her cheeks flushed a light pink. "Matteo, this is Arthur," she said, gesturing towards him. "Arthur, this is Matteo, my... well, my friend."

Matteo, oblivious to any subtext, extended a hand towards Arthur. "Nice to meet you, Arthur! You new here? Taking any of Professor Ivan's classes? He's the best, though he can go a bit overboard with the whole 'history is serious business' thing, you know?"

Arthur hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. He wasn't exactly a student, nor was he particularly new to the concept of history, considering he'd lived through quite a bit of it himself. Yet, keeping his true identity a secret felt paramount.

"Just visiting," he finally said, his voice gruff.
Professor Ivan chuckled, a sound that rumbled through the room. "History is a serious business, Matteo," he boomed, a twinkle in his eye, "but even the most serious business needs a light touch sometimes. Now, Miss Harcourt, what can I do for you today?"

"I was hoping if you might be able to help me with a rather delicate matter. It concerns my research, and I believe some restricted materials in the archives might be crucial."

Professor Ivan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her hushed tone. "Restricted materials, you say? And what kind of research are we talking about here, Miss Harcourt?"

Felicia fumbled slightly, caught off guard by Professor Ivan's easy acceptance. "Mostly just uh...old stuff," she stammered, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny. "Maybe something Arthurian or ancient magic... I'm just trying to find some... inspiration, you see."

The professor's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a hint of a smile played on his lips. He seemed to sense her reservations, recognizing the veiled truth in her words. Wisely, he didn't press the matter any further. Academia thrived on curious young minds, and perhaps a little harmless exploration wouldn't hurt.

"Curious young minds," he rumbled, his voice thick with amusement. Reaching into a drawer beneath his desk, he produced a well-worn key on a heavy iron ring. "The restricted archives are on the third floor, at the very end of the west wing. Just be mindful, Miss Harcourt, knowledge is power, but untamed power can be a dangerous thing."

Felicia's heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as she accepted the key, its cool metal a stark contrast to her warm palm. A silent vow formed in her mind. She wouldn't misuse this opportunity, Professor Ivan's trust. She would tread carefully, gleaning the knowledge she craved without bringing undue chaos upon the world.

With a grateful nod, she tucked the key safely away. Arthur, ever observant, caught the glint of metal disappear into her pocket. A silent question hung in the air between them, but Felicia knew the time for explanations wasn't yet. The secrets locked away in the restricted archives demanded her full attention first.