The hall was full. Seven thousand students took seats on the sloping floor that rose farther one went from the stage. The staff, removing professors, sat on the first-floor gallery numbering in a few hundred. The orchestra pit played music continuously. I could hear their strings over shushed murmur. I understood the moment I peeked through the curtains; I underestimated its importance. The place was full and daunting. The audience was lively. My stomach churned, body froze, and skin felt pricked. I felt my anxiety erupt as the cold air of the hall tickled me. I was on edge, a really slippery edge.
'It will be fine,' said Ms Orchard, standing beside me. 'You won't have anything to fear.'
'Keep your introductions brief,' Mr Quincy said, standing behind me. 'Do not hurry. That is all you need to know.'
'Just walk up there as if you are in a garden,' said Ms Solvent. Her voice was livelier than a child's.
The words of encouragement were appreciated and more followed. Mr Frisk, Ms Oak, Mr Mont, and Mr Foreman all gave me good pieces of advice. Ms Soni, with an accent, spoke about blurting whatever came to mind. Apparently, Good-looking fellows may say the dumbest thing and no one will scorn them. I thought that was a rather ignorant statement, but when she secretly pointed at Ms Solvent, doubts clouded my judgement. Perhaps, there is not much to worry about... But of course, my mind thought panic was the best course of action.
That is when Dean Heinz looked back and slowly walked towards me, the black-haired man in tow. What now? I thought as my heart beat louder. We had made files and ranks, like good children, behind the Dean, and I quickly checked if I was out of line. It seemed not. I was standing exactly where I should be. If anyone had a measuring tape, they would agree. It was a practice long held. All professors must stand on the stage before opening the curtains. It showed discipline and grace. I believed in it, but I did not believe in the Dean himself walking towards me with so many watching. I do not want to be labelled for favouritism, I thought as the Dean reached me.
'How do you do, Professor Dew?' he asked, putting force in that title.
My pride swelled, and I felt like I could battle and belittle gods. 'Fine, sir,' I said without stuttering. That was a great achievement, and I believed so. My pride swelled even more, and I nearly forgot how soft my voice sounded.
'Do not be nervous now. We have much to discuss today, Professor.' The man kept fanning my ego, and I so graciously allowed him. I think he was having fun. Youngest, wasn't I?
'I shan't,' I answered. And soon, the man turned away after saying a few more things. His back looked so large despite his old age. I noticed the black-haired man glaring at me. That was it. No more! I was not letting him treat me so. Who does he think he is? I thought to myself. I am a 'professor!' My heart was on fire. It was fuelled by a very flippant nature. I should have quenched that fire, doused it. Why did I let it burn, despite the possibility of making enemies? Why did I stick my tongue out and mock that man alongside Ms Solvent?
I was expecting him to look away, but instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared more fiercely. I was not one to look away either. I was too excited for that. I required danger, and I kept staring it in the eye. The man looked away eventually. He was petty but perhaps not as much as me. 'We won,' I whispered to Ms Solvent, and she nodded proudly. Neither of us liked that man, and others simply ignored our antics.
As I was thinking of ways to confront him sometime later, I heard an announcement over the electric speaker. 'First of all, welcome to all,' the announcer said. It was a woman. The sound was very clear. I admired it. 'Today is our four-hundred-and-ninetieth Orientation Day.' She must have entered from the front for I spotted her at the podium, speaking into what seemed to be a shiny Electric Microphone. I was once again reminded of how rich this place was for an academy. 'We agree that it is a number impossible to be achieved by any other institution, and I believe, you — curious as you are — require proof.' This was it. 'Then, welcome' — she raised her voice with a perfect balance in her pitch — 'with loud cheers — the most awe-inspiring number of professors! The greatest faculties on the continent!' The red curtains were drawn, their golden embroidery leaving a shine behind. And I saw, thousands of people staring at us. Their applause was thunderous as it welcomed us. The Dean moved to the podium while we descended the stage in files, all the while accompanied by the sounds of cheerful claps.
Follow your file. I recalled Mr Quincy's words. It will move to the side closest to you. The files on the right will descend from the right of the stage while the left ones will descend from the left. Ms Soni will lead our file, he added. Simply follow her.
We were placed nearly in the middle — the last of two files to descend. When the juncture arrived, I whispered to Ms Orchard, 'Until later,' and moved away towards the right side while she went to the left. I walked with light steps, following Ms Soni, and descended the stairs with care and caution. My ponytail danced behind me as I kept on in silence towards the last file that had descended. They had lined the walls from one end to the other. A staff of seven or eight dozen professors did so right in front of my eyes, and here I was, now one of them. We did not have to walk far. We were the closest to the stage.
Ms Soni and Mr Quincy, standing on either of my sides, did not seem to be interested in secretive talks. In all this glory and Dean's speech, which I ignored, I noticed Ms Orchard on the other side. Unlike me, she paid attention to the man's words. Perhaps, she noticed my gaze and turned her head towards me. I believed she would make a gesture of acknowledgement. I believed it was only polite at the expense of a little rudeness towards our employer. But she didn't. I thought she was solemn as anyone should be on such occasions, but I was wrong — very, very wrong. And I finally noticed — all those gazes, that attention.
***
'Selena!' Someone called me. I looked around to find Eric, looking at my face with expectation.
'What?' I asked.
'Did you leave me and Karla there on purpose?' he asked as if he did not know. Well, of course, I did. He annoys me. He is too loud...and dumb — loud and dumb.
'No,' I said. 'I was afraid we might be late, so I held our seats.' It is simply a coincidence that no one sat beside me. If only someone had...
'Oh, then if you do not mind,' saying so he took the seat beside me, and quiet Karla took my other side. She was not very talkative, and what went through her only she knew. Doubt took me suddenly. Or did she, I thought. Perhaps, even she doesn't. I looked at her in suspicion, but she only returned one glance and went back to looking at the front. She was quiet, as usual.
'The hall is so grand,' Eric said, glancing around like a countryside commoner. 'Look at those Murals, Selena.' He shook me. I hated that. I could hear him; there was no need for such crude behaviour. Have some class, I thought so while looking at the murals.
It was a scene from The Tale of Highland, how it was raised from its place to create the Last Fall, the great wall of waterfall. Goddess Ivory did it in order to save the residents of our lands. Romantic but falls. There are no gods. Only humans rule the world.
Then, there were Idyllic pictures of pastures, countryside, and bridges on meanders. Mixtures of Mythology and Idyll — Grandness and Tranquillity.
My eyes went from the pit, where music played, to the beautiful drapery. Eric kept telling me how large the place is and how there is a grand gallery hanging over us. We had been seated in the middle section, so he had all the chance in the world to look around. I was tired of seeing his spiky, brown hair jumping about. They always shone terribly. The other side was no better. It was quiet, too quiet. Karla rarely spoke, and when she did, it was only a word or two. I wish I could change seats.
Soon, more students entered. I saw the daughter of Duke Heles. She showed her great skin around as if it was a family treasure. It is, isn't it? Everyone in the Heles family had beautiful skin, pure and unblemished. She is too proud of something she hasn't earned.
To be earnest, I also had something similar to a family treasure. 'You are scaring me again, Selena,' Eric said. It was my eyes. They scared all. They were sharp. Anyone seeing them seems to think that I am scrutinising or conspiring against them. They misunderstand. Perhaps, that is why no one sat by me... That was disheartening, but it was something I had learnt to accept. Some people never do, and they suffer all their life. 'Oh, yes, Karla,' said my loud friend. 'Have you decided the subjects and faculties you will study under?' He seemed in an excited mood.
'Anatomy,' said that quiet girl.
Eric was shocked and so was I. Why Anatomy? She had no reason to. She has never shown any aspiration towards it. I looked at her questioningly, and Eric even ventured to ask, 'Why Anatomy? And nothing else?' But she didn't answer; she kept looking at the stage.
I asked Eric, despite my general dislike towards him, 'Do you know why?' He said no in a very stunned voice. He was a very unlikely person to be capable of hiding his true emotions, I was reminded once again. In that sense, Karla and I were similar. We could lie through our teeth and no one would notice. That is not true, is it? Karla wouldn't lie. If she doesn't want to, she would refrain from answering, and I have no reason to lie. I do lie eventually, like when I have to distance myself from these two, but otherwise, I am not ashamed of anything. I am truthful in that manner. Why would I lie if there is no need for it?
'What about you?' Eric asked me.
I had a few studies I was interested in. I wanted to learn Mythology from the Dean, but that was a pipe dream. I had no qualifications to ask a man who does not teach anymore for guidance. I like Mythology, the stories. I did not believe in them, but I liked listening to the grandeur of heroism. 'History,' I belatedly answered the loud one. 'Something in history and arts.' That answer was loose and rough, but it was better than Karla's. I could see Eric thinking so.
'What about you,' I asked. I did not want to, but his eyes seemed to demand my attention. Like a dog.
'I am enlisting for swordsmanship, of course!' he said with gusto. A few people looked our way, as he practically yelled. I ignored him once more. I do not want to be labelled as queer.
As I was thinking about how to make him shut his mouth, I noticed a woman walking towards the podium after climbing the stage. 'First of all, welcome to all,' she said into the electric microphone. Her voice echoed in the chamber, shushing the loud ones, my friend included. 'Today is our four-hundred-and-ninetieth Orientation Day.' She continued with a glance around, 'We agree that it is a number impossible to be achieved by any other institution, and I believe, you — curious as you are — require proof.' She went to the main event right away. I admired that — not wasting our time. 'Then, welcome!' She suddenly became hearty and loud. I did not admire that, but she did manage to raise the crowd's excitement. 'With loud cheers! The most awe-inspiring number of professors! The greatest faculties on the continent!' And the curtains were drawn. All started clapping. I did not find it as grand, but the applause turned my opinion. It was loud and energetic. Thousands were clapping. It was like Marcus's Sacrifice — one of the greatest heroic tales. I felt shivers thinking about that. As if I was witnessing Marcus's sacrifice, I showed due respect. Karla too clapped beside me. Eric was no different. He did it while yelling wows. Had it not been for the noise, all would have heard it.
I saw professors passing by us in well-formed files. I found that worthy of respect, but there were a few fat ones. I do not mind their tummy, but show some character. You are professors; walk properly. They ruined my mood, which I tried to resuscitate by looking at some incredible professors.
There was the Dean, Sir Wallace Heinz. He was sired by the royal family. Incredible, I thought, looking at his proud posture. He was like a man out of Mythos. I rued once again my inability to study under him. But I quickly shirked off those feelings. This was a new chapter in our life. It was full of possibilities. I mustn't ruin it.
I saw a woman with blonde hair tied intricately. I instantly admired her. She looked younger than other professors and beautiful too. I knew who she was. Veronica Orchard. She comes from the Orchard family and teaches at such a young age. I had thought about it and now I knew. I will choose her subject. If I remember, she teaches Literature. That was a worthwhile effort — a subject with stories and charm. I needed no other to convince me; I would fill the form with her subject.
That brought to thought something. There was a name in the booklet... I opened the little brown booklet resting in my lap. Many such were placed on a wooden stand at the entrance. Karla and Eric did not seem to have taken one. Idiots. I flipped through the pages and stopped at the faculty section. Professors had their names written under their faculty and the subject they teach. I flipped a few more pages, and at the end of the faculty section, was a name I had neither heard of nor seen. It showed under no subject or faculty. Lile Dew...? Who is that? What faculty does he come under? Science? Arts? Did the printers make some mistake? Thinking so, I asked Eric, 'Eric, does your brother know this Lile Dew person?' I hoped the loud one had kept in contact with his brother here.
'Hm? Where is it?' He looked at the booklet. 'Lile Dew...' He thought for a moment and then shook his head. 'No. I have never heard of him. He should be a new professor.' That frustrated me. Now I cannot get the name out of my head until someone clarifies it.
Suddenly, someone shook my hand and pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up. Karla? She didn't answer; I followed her gaze and heard her words, 'Him.'
There, near the stage, looking like a porcelain doll under the pale lamps, was a boy with bright orange lips and an envious ponytail. Locks and strands of hair covered his sides, barely allowing his ears exposure. He wore an attire of blue over a black shirt and black tie. He was pretty and he was young.
Why is he...? He is a professor? I screamed in my head. He is a child! Everything that the Dean was speaking went over my head. That was the case for most. Karla and Eric were staring at him too. 'He is so young!' their expressions screamed. I looked around, and truly, the new students and even the older ones had the same demeanour. So, he is a new professor. I found a few flipping through the booklet. Is he this Lile Dew? I thought again and again, but nothing came to mind. My eyes turned to the daughter of Duke Heles. She had the same look as others, albeit a little restrained. Even with the great papa behind, she doesn't know? Who is he?
As I was running my head with the worry of not finding any sleep tonight, Sir Heinz solved my dilemma. '...and finally,' he spoke, bringing his speech near its end. 'Let me introduce our new professors.' There is more than one? I thought. No matter. I will know soon enough. Dean continued, 'There are two. First is Ms Hilda Lore. She will be teaching the introductory classes in Electrical Conduction.' A woman near the stage waved her hand. She was young and looked nervous. Nowhere near young as him, I thought. 'Give her a round of applause,' the Dean said. His wishes were fulfilled, and when the noise died down, he continued, 'This year is a joyous one.' He teased us with those words. 'We are all blessed to have him with us.' The Dean had a smile that seemed genuine. He was truly excited. 'Please welcome, Mr Lile Dew, the youngest professor in the history of Excellence,' — That is him! — 'and the first Professor of Arcane Knowledge.' My jaw dropped, and the hall fell deathly silent.
But their applause resounded, louder than ours ever could — the ones on the first-floor gallery...and the professors around.
The hall was full. Seven thousand students took seats on the sloping floor that rose farther one went from the stage. The staff, removing professors, sat on the first-floor gallery numbering in a few hundred. The orchestra pit played music continuously. I could hear their strings over shushed murmur. I understood the moment I peeked through the curtains; I underestimated its importance. The place was full and daunting. The audience was lively. My stomach churned, body froze, and skin felt pricked. I felt my anxiety erupt as the cold air of the hall tickled me. I was on edge, a really slippery edge.
'It will be fine,' said Ms Orchard, standing beside me. 'You won't have anything to fear.'
'Keep your introductions brief,' Mr Quincy said, standing behind me. 'Do not hurry. That is all you need to know.'
'Just walk up there as if you are in a garden,' said Ms Solvent. Her voice was livelier than a child's.
The words of encouragement were appreciated and more followed. Mr Frisk, Ms Oak, Mr Mont, and Mr Foreman all gave me good pieces of advice. Ms Soni, with an accent, spoke about blurting whatever came to mind. Apparently, Good-looking fellows may say the dumbest thing and no one will scorn them. I thought that was a rather ignorant statement, but when she secretly pointed at Ms Solvent, doubts clouded my judgement. Perhaps, there is not much to worry about... But of course, my mind thought panic was the best course of action.
That is when Dean Heinz looked back and slowly walked towards me, the black-haired man in tow. What now? I thought as my heart beat louder. We had made files and ranks, like good children, behind the Dean, and I quickly checked if I was out of line. It seemed not. I was standing exactly where I should be. If anyone had a measuring tape, they would agree. It was a practice long held. All professors must stand on the stage before opening the curtains. It showed discipline and grace. I believed in it, but I did not believe in the Dean himself walking towards me with so many watching. I do not want to be labelled for favouritism, I thought as the Dean reached me.
'How do you do, Professor Dew?' he asked, putting force in that title.
My pride swelled, and I felt like I could battle and belittle gods. 'Fine, sir,' I said without stuttering. That was a great achievement, and I believed so. My pride swelled even more, and I nearly forgot how soft my voice sounded.
'Do not be nervous now. We have much to discuss today, Professor.' The man kept fanning my ego, and I so graciously allowed him. I think he was having fun. Youngest, wasn't I?
'I shan't,' I answered. And soon, the man turned away after saying a few more things. His back looked so large despite his old age. I noticed the black-haired man glaring at me. That was it. No more! I was not letting him treat me so. Who does he think he is? I thought to myself. I am a 'professor!' My heart was on fire. It was fuelled by a very flippant nature. I should have quenched that fire, doused it. Why did I let it burn, despite the possibility of making enemies? Why did I stick my tongue out and mock that man alongside Ms Solvent?
I was expecting him to look away, but instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared more fiercely. I was not one to look away either. I was too excited for that. I required danger, and I kept staring it in the eye. The man looked away eventually. He was petty but perhaps not as much as me. 'We won,' I whispered to Ms Solvent, and she nodded proudly. Neither of us liked that man, and others simply ignored our antics.
As I was thinking of ways to confront him sometime later, I heard an announcement over the electric speaker. 'First of all, welcome to all,' the announcer said. It was a woman. The sound was very clear. I admired it. 'Today is our four-hundred-and-ninetieth Orientation Day.' She must have entered from the front for I spotted her at the podium, speaking into what seemed to be a shiny Electric Microphone. I was once again reminded of how rich this place was for an academy. 'We agree that it is a number impossible to be achieved by any other institution, and I believe, you — curious as you are — require proof.' This was it. 'Then, welcome' — she raised her voice with a perfect balance in her pitch — 'with loud cheers — the most awe-inspiring number of professors! The greatest faculties on the continent!' The red curtains were drawn, their golden embroidery leaving a shine behind. And I saw, thousands of people staring at us. Their applause was thunderous as it welcomed us. The Dean moved to the podium while we descended the stage in files, all the while accompanied by the sounds of cheerful claps.
Follow your file. I recalled Mr Quincy's words. It will move to the side closest to you. The files on the right will descend from the right of the stage while the left ones will descend from the left. Ms Soni will lead our file, he added. Simply follow her.
We were placed nearly in the middle — the last of two files to descend. When the juncture arrived, I whispered to Ms Orchard, 'Until later,' and moved away towards the right side while she went to the left. I walked with light steps, following Ms Soni, and descended the stairs with care and caution. My ponytail danced behind me as I kept on in silence towards the last file that had descended. They had lined the walls from one end to the other. A staff of seven or eight dozen professors did so right in front of my eyes, and here I was, now one of them. We did not have to walk far. We were the closest to the stage.
Ms Soni and Mr Quincy, standing on either of my sides, did not seem to be interested in secretive talks. In all this glory and Dean's speech, which I ignored, I noticed Ms Orchard on the other side. Unlike me, she paid attention to the man's words. Perhaps, she noticed my gaze and turned her head towards me. I believed she would make a gesture of acknowledgement. I believed it was only polite at the expense of a little rudeness towards our employer. But she didn't. I thought she was solemn as anyone should be on such occasions, but I was wrong — very, very wrong. And I finally noticed — all those gazes, that attention.
***
'Selena!' Someone called me. I looked around to find Eric, looking at my face with expectation.
'What?' I asked.
'Did you leave me and Karla there on purpose?' he asked as if he did not know. Well, of course, I did. He annoys me. He is too loud...and dumb — loud and dumb.
'No,' I said. 'I was afraid we might be late, so I held our seats.' It is simply a coincidence that no one sat beside me. If only someone had...
'Oh, then if you do not mind,' saying so he took the seat beside me, and quiet Karla took my other side. She was not very talkative, and what went through her only she knew. Doubt took me suddenly. Or did she, I thought. Perhaps, even she doesn't. I looked at her in suspicion, but she only returned one glance and went back to looking at the front. She was quiet, as usual.
'The hall is so grand,' Eric said, glancing around like a countryside commoner. 'Look at those Murals, Selena.' He shook me. I hated that. I could hear him; there was no need for such crude behaviour. Have some class, I thought so while looking at the murals.
It was a scene from The Tale of Highland, how it was raised from its place to create the Last Fall, the great wall of waterfall. Goddess Ivory did it in order to save the residents of our lands. Romantic but falls. There are no gods. Only humans rule the world.
Then, there were Idyllic pictures of pastures, countryside, and bridges on meanders. Mixtures of Mythology and Idyll — Grandness and Tranquillity.
My eyes went from the pit, where music played, to the beautiful drapery. Eric kept telling me how large the place is and how there is a grand gallery hanging over us. We had been seated in the middle section, so he had all the chance in the world to look around. I was tired of seeing his spiky, brown hair jumping about. They always shone terribly. The other side was no better. It was quiet, too quiet. Karla rarely spoke, and when she did, it was only a word or two. I wish I could change seats.
Soon, more students entered. I saw the daughter of Duke Heles. She showed her great skin around as if it was a family treasure. It is, isn't it? Everyone in the Heles family had beautiful skin, pure and unblemished. She is too proud of something she hasn't earned.
To be earnest, I also had something similar to a family treasure. 'You are scaring me again, Selena,' Eric said. It was my eyes. They scared all. They were sharp. Anyone seeing them seems to think that I am scrutinising or conspiring against them. They misunderstand. Perhaps, that is why no one sat by me... That was disheartening, but it was something I had learnt to accept. Some people never do, and they suffer all their life. 'Oh, yes, Karla,' said my loud friend. 'Have you decided the subjects and faculties you will study under?' He seemed in an excited mood.
'Anatomy,' said that quiet girl.
Eric was shocked and so was I. Why Anatomy? She had no reason to. She has never shown any aspiration towards it. I looked at her questioningly, and Eric even ventured to ask, 'Why Anatomy? And nothing else?' But she didn't answer; she kept looking at the stage.
I asked Eric, despite my general dislike towards him, 'Do you know why?' He said no in a very stunned voice. He was a very unlikely person to be capable of hiding his true emotions, I was reminded once again. In that sense, Karla and I were similar. We could lie through our teeth and no one would notice. That is not true, is it? Karla wouldn't lie. If she doesn't want to, she would refrain from answering, and I have no reason to lie. I do lie eventually, like when I have to distance myself from these two, but otherwise, I am not ashamed of anything. I am truthful in that manner. Why would I lie if there is no need for it?
'What about you?' Eric asked me.
I had a few studies I was interested in. I wanted to learn Mythology from the Dean, but that was a pipe dream. I had no qualifications to ask a man who does not teach anymore for guidance. I like Mythology, the stories. I did not believe in them, but I liked listening to the grandeur of heroism. 'History,' I belatedly answered the loud one. 'Something in history and arts.' That answer was loose and rough, but it was better than Karla's. I could see Eric thinking so.
'What about you,' I asked. I did not want to, but his eyes seemed to demand my attention. Like a dog.
'I am enlisting for swordsmanship, of course!' he said with gusto. A few people looked our way, as he practically yelled. I ignored him once more. I do not want to be labelled as queer.
As I was thinking about how to make him shut his mouth, I noticed a woman walking towards the podium after climbing the stage. 'First of all, welcome to all,' she said into the electric microphone. Her voice echoed in the chamber, shushing the loud ones, my friend included. 'Today is our four-hundred-and-ninetieth Orientation Day.' She continued with a glance around, 'We agree that it is a number impossible to be achieved by any other institution, and I believe, you — curious as you are — require proof.' She went to the main event right away. I admired that — not wasting our time. 'Then, welcome!' She suddenly became hearty and loud. I did not admire that, but she did manage to raise the crowd's excitement. 'With loud cheers! The most awe-inspiring number of professors! The greatest faculties on the continent!' And the curtains were drawn. All started clapping. I did not find it as grand, but the applause turned my opinion. It was loud and energetic. Thousands were clapping. It was like Marcus's Sacrifice — one of the greatest heroic tales. I felt shivers thinking about that. As if I was witnessing Marcus's sacrifice, I showed due respect. Karla too clapped beside me. Eric was no different. He did it while yelling wows. Had it not been for the noise, all would have heard it.
I saw professors passing by us in well-formed files. I found that worthy of respect, but there were a few fat ones. I do not mind their tummy, but show some character. You are professors; walk properly. They ruined my mood, which I tried to resuscitate by looking at some incredible professors.
There was the Dean, Sir Wallace Heinz. He was sired by the royal family. Incredible, I thought, looking at his proud posture. He was like a man out of Mythos. I rued once again my inability to study under him. But I quickly shirked off those feelings. This was a new chapter in our life. It was full of possibilities. I mustn't ruin it.
I saw a woman with blonde hair tied intricately. I instantly admired her. She looked younger than other professors and beautiful too. I knew who she was. Veronica Orchard. She comes from the Orchard family and teaches at such a young age. I had thought about it and now I knew. I will choose her subject. If I remember, she teaches Literature. That was a worthwhile effort — a subject with stories and charm. I needed no other to convince me; I would fill the form with her subject.
That brought to thought something. There was a name in the booklet... I opened the little brown booklet resting in my lap. Many such were placed on a wooden stand at the entrance. Karla and Eric did not seem to have taken one. Idiots. I flipped through the pages and stopped at the faculty section. Professors had their names written under their faculty and the subject they teach. I flipped a few more pages, and at the end of the faculty section, was a name I had neither heard of nor seen. It showed under no subject or faculty. Lile Dew...? Who is that? What faculty does he come under? Science? Arts? Did the printers make some mistake? Thinking so, I asked Eric, 'Eric, does your brother know this Lile Dew person?' I hoped the loud one had kept in contact with his brother here.
'Hm? Where is it?' He looked at the booklet. 'Lile Dew...' He thought for a moment and then shook his head. 'No. I have never heard of him. He should be a new professor.' That frustrated me. Now I cannot get the name out of my head until someone clarifies it.
Suddenly, someone shook my hand and pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up. Karla? She didn't answer; I followed her gaze and heard her words, 'Him.'
There, near the stage, looking like a porcelain doll under the pale lamps, was a boy with bright orange lips and an envious ponytail. Locks and strands of hair covered his sides, barely allowing his ears exposure. He wore an attire of blue over a black shirt and black tie. He was pretty and he was young.
Why is he...? He is a professor? I screamed in my head. He is a child! Everything that the Dean was speaking went over my head. That was the case for most. Karla and Eric were staring at him too. 'He is so young!' their expressions screamed. I looked around, and truly, the new students and even the older ones had the same demeanour. So, he is a new professor. I found a few flipping through the booklet. Is he this Lile Dew? I thought again and again, but nothing came to mind. My eyes turned to the daughter of Duke Heles. She had the same look as others, albeit a little restrained. Even with the great papa behind, she doesn't know? Who is he?
As I was running my head with the worry of not finding any sleep tonight, Sir Heinz solved my dilemma. '...and finally,' he spoke, bringing his speech near its end. 'Let me introduce our new professors.' There is more than one? I thought. No matter. I will know soon enough. Dean continued, 'There are two. First is Ms Hilda Lore. She will be teaching the introductory classes in Electrical Conduction.' A woman near the stage waved her hand. She was young and looked nervous. Nowhere near young as him, I thought. 'Give her a round of applause,' the Dean said. His wishes were fulfilled, and when the noise died down, he continued, 'This year is a joyous one.' He teased us with those words. 'We are all blessed to have him with us.' The Dean had a smile that seemed genuine. He was truly excited. 'Please welcome, Mr Lile Dew, the youngest professor in the history of Excellence,' — That is him! — 'and the first Professor of Arcane Knowledge.' My jaw dropped, and the hall fell deathly silent.
But their applause resounded, louder than ours ever could — the ones on the first-floor gallery...and the professors around.
