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“It was in the mid-centuries that the working class of orcs had slowly become unable to get ahead because of the practices of the wealthy landowners of the time.”

Avenay stopped reading and looked up, blinking. That had been Carlotti’s voice.

“But the orcs had passed down ancient Entailish in the form of their religious texts, worshiping the goddess Yeolah. This was a language that the wealthy merfolk didn’t know.”

Avenay stared in horror. This was her presentation, word for word.

Except Carlotti was presenting it way better than she had ever been able to in her practice times. She couldn’t do anything but watch as Carlotti stole her work. Her hard-earned work. She heard her own words spoken back to her with Carlotti’s beautiful and lilting voice and a lump formed in her throat. Carlotti concluded her presentation, looking Avenay directly in the eyes as the room erupted in applause.

Carlotti exited the stage, shaking hands with well renowned academics who commended her on her research and findings, then she came up to Avenay.

“Good luck, Avie,” she said, a wicked smile spreading across her face, then sat in the back.

“Avenay Claro,” the coordinator called from the front, his eyes scanning the crowd for her.

She stared blankly, stricken. What was she supposed to do now? She had nothing else to present.

The coordinator’s eyes landed on her, and he beckoned. “Come now, Avenay. It’s your turn.”

Her feet moved, but her mind stalled. She could feel the eyes on her, uninterested because how could she follow upthatpresentation?

She stood at the podium and took her time to pull out the papers. She could call Carlotti out on it, but no one would believe her. They never did, especially not against her rival’s words. And she’d kept it a secret so that it would be even more shocking of a discovery. No one had known.

Except Carlotti, apparently.

She thumbed through her papers. “Umm…” Not a great start, not a great start at all. She looked out at the crowd, and Lucas gave her an encouraging smile and nod. She swallowed and looked back down.

There wasonething she could present on that would also be an amazing discovery.Onething that would be a robust presentation. She even had notes she could put on the enchanted projecting stone.

Yes, she could do that.

She cleared her throat. “Hello. Today I want to talk to you about how the ancient peoples weaved truth and tales together.”

And she launched into her presentation. She told how the originalTales of Lemiahad been considered sacred and holy texts by the elves for centuries and how their own scriptures were written in Entailish. She told how the path to the city of Cirro was too precisely described to be an accident, how it didn’t match the rest of the writing form in the document and the departure of style was very clearly pointed.

“The description of how to arrive at the gate of Cirro is so precise and is written with a specific rhythm in Entailish that was often used in religious texts to draw the reader’s attention to the hidden narrative of a parable.” Her voice rose with excitement, and she smiled as she talked about her passions.

She took the notes and walked to the stone. Laying it down, she adjusted the crystal in a notch, and the image projected to the screen. “Another thing, in Entailish, Cirro has the name Evolis. Evolis mentioned in Toler’s epic poem. In the poem, Toler ties virtues tovarious famous cities in history. All of these cities either still exist, or are very well documented to prove their once existence.

“Save for Evolis. Yet, there is no reason to believe that Evolis would have been mentioned at all if it wasn’t real. Why?The Tales of Lemiahad not been written yet, and we have no evidence that it began as an oral tradition. All accounts of the retellings ofThe Tales of Lemiacome from translating the original text into various languages, even when those translations were poorly done and much of the message was lost.

“That’s not the point, though. Evolis was very much considered a real place by ancient peoples.

“Now, I doubt it is anything like the story tells us, but regardless, it would be egregious to discount it as a place only existing in fables.”

She stopped, finally taking in the audience.

People shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Then someone snickered, and a ripple of suppressed laughter waved through the room. Before Avenay could fully process what had happened, Lucas was on stage, grabbing her things, then her arm, and hauling her out of the room. The image of them laughing at her seared into her mind. Anger lit in her chest like lava, and she yanked her arm away from Lucas, taking her things from him.

“What in the darkest pit was that in there?” he hissed.

She pulled her satchel over her chest, grasping the strap to keep her hands from shaking. “Carlotti stole my presentation, and I had no other option.”

Lucas scoffed. “I don’t want to hear it. What would Carlotti gain from stealing your research? She’s as lauded as you are, and may I remind you that she was the other option for the research position? I told you not to utter a breath aboutThe Tales of Lemia. Why couldn’t you just listen to me?”

Avenay swallowed hard. Any response she could think of slipping away before it fully formed. What had she done? She could have at least feigned sickness and fled. It may have looked flighty, but at least she could still try for the research position. She rubbed her forehead, her breaths coming out labored. “Lucas, I… I panicked. I promise Carlotti stole my presentation and—”

“I can’t keep standing up for you. I can’t keep helping you if you refuse to help yourself.”