Fontaine's School of Magic was well-renowned across all four corners of Teyvat. It was most befitting of such a cultured nation, one whose architecture transcended its classical roots and embroidered finely into the hustle and bustle of modern society. Their resources were abundant, and their academia was of the utmost intensity. No school could quite compare.

You were one of the lucky mages selected to instruct young mages under their jurisdiction. You accepted their invitation with excitement and began training your cohort of students. They were a rowdy bunch, but their faces held that glimmer of curiosity and youth, one that you hoped to foster during their time here.

It was the morning before your first lecture, and you had forgotten to bring the texts and materials you would need for the class. A careless mistake indeed! It would be far too late to ask the librarian to lend the needed materials so late, but it would also be impossible to conduct the class without them. Thus, with a heavy sigh, you made your way across campus to the school's library.

You've never visited the library before, but it was a spectacle. Grandiose halls with intricate patterns and paints lining the arched ceilings, alongside shelves upon shelves of literature just grazing the chandeliers overhead. You could see why students often spent their days and nights here—it was quite easy to get lost.

As you admired your surroundings, you accidentally bumped into someone, nearly knocking the books from their arms. The man tensed slightly before turning to face you, your gaze meeting his upturned nose and highly reflective frames.

Judging by his uniform and demeanor, you could tell this was the notably inexpressive librarian you'd heard of all week. It would seem there were prettier things within these halls.

"Greetings," he answered in an archaic tone. "I am Neuvillette. How may I be of assistance?" His head soon lowered, his eyes crinkling with interest.