"I was actually curious about that. I think of myself as a decent person, but not particularly heroic. Can you think of any reason why they would put you in the darkness category?"
"No! I wasn't even disobedient in grade school! But after they used the marble thing they said my soul was black. I thought there had to be some mistake, my soul can't be evil and ugly, but the second test got the same results."
She was used to it, but Keisha still felt a surge of irritation at the language. There was no getting around light and darkness, considering the magical power seemed to be those literal shades. But at the very least she could hope they'd avoid white and black. So far the faculty had done so, but Lysa was the opposite of them. If anyone was less comfortable with the idea of magic than Keisha, it was her.
"They said I didn't have to use the power for evil, but so many seem to want me to. I mean, am I going to start wanting to kill people? It's gotten to the point where I'd give anything to switch nametags with you."
"I doubt it will change anything about who you are. I've apparently had an 'Essence of Light' in me for a while and I don't feel any different." While taking another drink, she glanced at Lysa's nametag. It had a dark rim around the usual beige, which she interpreted as a low affinity for darkness. Her own nametag was all gold. The whole thing made her feel uncomfortable, as if a college had printed SAT scores on everyone's nametags. "I'm still not convinced it isn't nonsense."
"It's a little reassuring to hear you say that, but still... everyone else seems so sure of themselves. You're the only person here who doesn't just take it for granted."
So that was why Lysa had stuck close to her. Keisha admitted that it seemed to be true as she scanned the crowds. Most of the people here were familiar with what she had believed was myth, some of them for their entire lives. And a few seemed to take the alleged conflict rather seriously, even though they didn't seem to understand it any better than she did.
Only a few of the new students had nametags of pure light or dark. One of them was a young man that immediately set off warning bells in her head. His nametag said his last name was Prieto but he didn't look Latino, which alone wouldn't have been an issue. But she couldn't get any sense for him. Sometimes harmless, sometimes jerkish, and sometimes when he was alone there was something dangerous in his eyes.
At the moment he was making conversation with an Asian woman and the conversation seemed to be going well for once. She couldn't figure out why. The woman was dressed simply and still looked good, but from the nervous way she kept brushing her shoulder-length hair back she might not be aware of it. Either she was unusually short, or Blake was taller than she thought.
Unfortunately, Lysa saw the direction she was looking. Keisha realized her assumption too late.
"I wanted to talk to him, but his nametag's all black and that makes me nervous. Are you interested in him?" Lysa seemed so earnest that Keisha sighed.
"Only the way a farmer is interested in a fox near the henhouse."
"So you think he's foxy?"
Keisha stared at her for a long moment, realizing they would never be friends. She managed her usual smile and pretended the incident hadn't happened. Eventually Lysa had to go to the bathroom, so Keisha quickly went to ensure she would be otherwise occupied.
It was probably time to approach the professors in any case. From what Frederick Hall had told her, for a student without a prior magical background, it was critical to find a mentor to educate her before classes began. She would be expected to perform at a postgraduate level after one semester and she had no experience whatsoever.
So far she had avoided too much direct interaction with the faculty but had learned what she could. Axis University had a well-made website that let her know who taught what, even if all the class names were nonsense to her. Now that she had matched everyone with their pictures and spent a little time mingling, there was no sense waiting any longer.
Yet when she approached, someone headed directly toward her. Keisha immediately recognized the department head of Fey Arts, Professor Tierdrial. There was no mistaking her for a human. Her hair was a normal shade of grey, but it shifted unnaturally. Her eyes were white and her skin seemed to glow. Though the designs on her skirt looked vaguely Egyptian, Keisha doubted they were from Earth.
Keisha had a few fey friends, but didn't think Tierdrial was actually fey. It bothered her that she didn't entirely understand non-human ethnicities; it simply hadn't mattered before now. Regardless, she extended her hand politely.
Tierdrial barely brushed her palm and then pulled her own hand back. "I hate these functions."
"I'm... sorry to hear that." Keisha decided it was better to say little until she understood who she was dealing with, and fortunately Tierdrial was continuing without pause.
"Not only are they in the mundane world, everything positively reeks of humans."
"Perhaps I should step further away, then."
"Oh, I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." Tierdrial stared down at her, expression unreadable. "I'm obligated to take a student from time to time. You seem to be the least worthless of this year's crop, so you have the first chance to accept studying under me."
She blinked at the sudden turn of events. A department head was more than she had expected, but did she really want to work with Tierdrial? While her mind considered, her mouth bought time. "I confess I don't know if I'd be suited for your discipline. 'Fey Arts' sounds either artistic, or a field for non-human students."
"I'm aware you have a mundane background, but I consider that an advantage. Far better to work with a blank slate. But you would not start with my field of study in any case. It is more productive to build a program suited to your specific needs and talents."
"That seems like a good way to approach things." And it did, though the blank slate comment left her with doubts. Though she would have preferred to search out all options, Keisha knew this was probably her only chance with Tierdrial. Better not to gamble on someone else when she could study under one of the better professors. Working with difficult people was nothing new.
"Well? I will expect hard work from you, though I don't expect much otherwise."
"Then I hope I can prove more talented than you expect." She nearly said "prove you wrong" but that would have been less than tactful. Tierdrial smiled thinly.
"That's unlikely, but I prefer a student with ambitions."
With that she turned, vaguely gesturing for Keisha to follow. She did after a final glance at the room. Few of the professors had chosen a student, but she had no way of knowing if she had done better than any of the others. Not that it mattered for what she needed to do.
~ ~ ~
Everything was going too well. Blake had been confident while his parents' protection was still working, but he was on his own now. He was sure everyone would see through him or one of the professors would call him out.
Many of the other students seemed to be unimpressed by all the human faculty. He could sense enough to realize they could crush him like a bug. Even those that didn't care about power had been carried far beyond him by their research. If he hadn't been properly humble before, he was now. Perhaps they noticed him and simply didn't care.
Yet everything else was going well. Aki was the only person who didn't think he was a jerk, and since she wasn't socializing much it wouldn't hurt his image. He had been able to scout potential rivals and none of them could take him seriously now.
Except for a young woman standing near the professors. She was a potential student with full light alignment, which shouldn't be enough to make him nervous. Her hair was in thin braids and tied back in a ponytail. Her clothing was business casual and her expression carefully pleasant neutrality. But something about her made him afraid she'd see through his act, understand what he was trying to do, and stop him.
Well, maybe they were destined to kill one another or something. For the time being he had more immediate concerns. While he was considering
which professors to approach, someone melted out of the wall behind him.
"That's a nice trick." He carefully avoided looking back.
"Would you like to learn it?" Listening to the deep voice, he was able to sense a few details about the man. Tall, middle-aged, and powerful enough to be a professor.
"Any chance I can get the ability for free via an Essence of Darkness? Or do you say Dark Essence? I haven't been clear on that."
The man came to stand beside him without making eye contact. He had white hair, swept back over his head, and eyebrows that attempted to grow off his face. Most of the faculty were not particularly formal, but he wore a stiff black suit. Red eyes.
"My name is Gastion. We're going to be working together whether you like it or not."
"I don't get a choice of professor?"
"You could refuse my offer if you want, but when the war comes, we will find ourselves on the same side."
"Ivan is always telling me the same things. Is he some kind of disciple of yours?"
"He is unfortunately no longer with us."
Blake turned sharply, letting the mocking grin slip for a moment. "Why? What happened to him?"
Gastion's eyebrows soared. "I would very much like to know the answer to that question. You would have been the last person to see him. There were traces of some kind of path deep into the sub-mundane and he then he vanished. It wasn't like him."
"You think someone killed him?" The path was a new detail - possibly just a lucky break, more likely his parents. "Is it really a war among the faculty? Or is there someone else out there we don't know about?"
"A cold war, perhaps. Most likely it was someone else, or something else, that is 'out there' as you put it."
"I've never been clear on how exactly this prophesied war works. Was it already supposed to have started, or is everyone just getting ready?"
Gastion chuckled and Blake gave him a bland smile. Eventually the professor shook his head. "In addition to being unclear due to thousands of years, prophecy is, shall we say, malleable. I'm afraid you would not be able to understand a true answer to that question without much study. But by the time we are done, you will be well on your way to understanding."
"Is that so?" Blake gave the most apathetic shrug he could manage. "I don't think I agreed to work with you, and it's beginning to sound like too much work."
"Fool. You may find someone else, yes, but not someone who could unlock your true potential."
"I never was much for locks." He ambled away, without a particular destination. After walking a while he decided he was heading to the faculty end of the room. Things seemed to be wrapping up, so he needed to find a patron.
In addition to being insufferable, it would have been too much of a risk to work with Gastion. There was no way to hide his experience, so he needed a faculty member who taught an art he knew nothing about. It made him uncomfortable to realize how broad that category was. His parents had given him practical training that left him understanding little of the theory.
Trill wasn't present, but it would have been unwise to choose her anyway. He'd been impressed by the professor of Propitiation, but she seemed to have left. Several other fields might work but he wasn't sure about any of their professors.
Abruptly he realized there was a man standing on the wall. It was a bit of magic so subtle and so impossible it had slipped through his mind, and even now it took concentration to see him. The man's feet were on the wall as if it was the floor, and his long coat hung upward against gravity. His hair was blond and his eyes were purple - at least for a moment until the color melted away to leave both orange. Everything else about him was troublingly nondescript.
"Well, this is interesting." Blake made eye contact as best he could and smiled. "Is this some kind of test for potential students? This is killing my eyes, so I hope I win something by seeing you."
The man smiled cheerfully. "Once, a turtle met the Tokyo Stock Exchange. The turtle challenged it to a race, only to realize that she had been replaced by a parakeet."
"That's nice." Blake had absolutely no idea what to do with that. Without warning, the man walked backward along the wall and then was somehow standing in front of him. His hair had changed to brown and his eyes were a mix of green and yellow.
"You have a nametag." The man poked it as if curious, then smiled again. "I also have a nametag."
"We seem to have a lot in common." Except that the man didn't have a nametag.
"Mine is Drawde. Now, does the turtle want to fly, or is it walking forward because it cannot turn its head?"
So he was the turtle? Blake gave an uneasy smile, but the name had put to rest some of his fears. Drawde was one of the faculty, a professor of Obscure Arts. Not only did Blake not know what that was, he had even less idea about Drawde. Far from human, much further than fey or sprites.
"I will do this if you ask." The creature nodded and for a moment his head seemed to have vanished entirely. "You should be toddling about a nursery of darkness, and the fact that you desire to leave is worth something. You will learn much or you will learn nothing. Or possibly somewhere in between."
"If you're willing to teach me, I'll do my best to learn." While it was possible he was wasting his time, this professor clearly wielded power fundamentally different from magic as he knew it. Something different was exactly what Blake needed.
Abruptly Drawde was standing closer and his eyes had changed. Not the color, but there was an intense focus there for the first time. "I saw your essence results, you know. Funny."
Against his will Blake took a step back, feeling a surge of fear. But it was too late, and he fell sideways into the wall. It swallowed him and his vision became a kaleidoscope of color that left nothing of him.
~ ~ ~
It was like being the last kid chosen for a dodge ball team, which was ridiculous. When Aki had been in grade school, no one was playing dodge ball for fear of lawsuits and there were no activities where anyone could feel left out.
Yet here she was, about to go into college and the last one against the wall. There weren't many left with her, either students or professors. If she didn't get a patron she could still enroll in Axis University, but without any support she didn't have a chance. It was better to give up than embarrass herself like that.
Someone moved behind her and she turned quickly. He was huge, well over six feet and twice as wide as she was. Close cut hair and light brown eyes. According to his nametag he was Eron Roshal, one of the advanced students.
"Hate to see you looking so lonely."
"I don't want a pity patron."
"What?" He stared at her for a moment then let out a laugh. "No, no, that wouldn't work at all. I'm light, all the way, and you're better off doing something else. Not that you can't contribute to the fight, but you're no champion or anything."
Perhaps she would have preferred his pity. Aki watched him, trying to decide if he was mocking her, yet he seemed entirely sincere. "Do you have anything to say or are you here to make things worse?"
"I was going to give you some advice, but it really might be too late." Eron scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, pretty much everyone important is gone. Somebody signed up with me already, so I couldn't even if I thought I could help you. Oh, hey, you could try the guy over-"
"No." It was one of the creeps from earlier and the last thing she wanted was to give him any kind of authority over her. Eron didn't get it but just shrugged.
"This is kind of rough for you, since now that nobody's picked you everyone else will think there's a good reason for that."
"You're making me feel so much better."
"Well, I'm glad, I just wish I could help."
Again, no trace of irony. When he turned toward her he moved closer and she could feel the energy radiating from him, but it was clear whatever talents he possessed didn't require intelligence. He seemed to think of something positive and then immediately frowned.
"I was going to say your last cha
nce is Emile. He's a sucker for lost causes. But I guess he left."
The last of her hope crumbled. She muttered "Thanks for trying" and shuffled away. She had just been tricking herself to think she had any chance. If her only opportunity was as a lost cause, trying to go to the university would be nothing but an embarrassment.
At least this settled things. No more wasted time on petty spells and worthless hexes. She could ignore all that and devote herself to... whatever came next. When she pushed out the door no one even stopped her. Though it was only early evening, the air had grown chill and she shivered. Just as she thought things couldn't get any worse, she realized they probably would.
"Excuse me." At first she only saw a man in tan slacks and a nice sweater, then abruptly she realized that she recognized him. He wasn't wearing a nametag, but he was one of the professors. His name might even be... "Emile Martin, pleased to meet you."
"Sorry, I was just on my way out."
"Yes, that's why I stopped you." He had a faint European accent she couldn't place. As he moved in front of her she realized he was surprisingly young compared to most of the others. Thin but attractive features, clear blue eyes, and a kind smile. "I'm afraid Axis is very focused on certain talents, but we would do ourselves a disservice to ignore others. If you're still interested in attending, I would be happy to help you prepare."
She forced herself not to respond immediately, but couldn't stop a broad smile from creeping onto her face. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that."
"Good. It would be best for us to start quickly, but I think it would be better to get to know one another first. Would you like to come to my house for dinner?"
Aki froze. She might have been flattered by the offer, but not so quickly and so creepily. Just as she felt everything falling apart again, Emile kept talking.
"We need some time to discuss a specific program of study, and my wife would love to meet you."
"...that sounds fine." His wife. Of course he was married. The idea that his question might have sounded improper hadn't even entered his mind, since he was a successful professor and she was just some pathetic girl.
It didn't seem that he noticed her guilt and shame. Emile shook her hand warmly and gave another smile. "I hope I can be of assistance to you, then. Would Saturday be fine?"