'That was brilliant, Mr Dew,' Mr Quincy said to me as we left the stage for the backstage. 'That was simply marvellous. I appreciate art even though my loyalties lie with science.' He had a subtle grin on his face, and he kept searching for someone. 'Please excuse me,' he said, leaving me to myself. I saw him walking towards some man who looked to be in his fifties.
'Lile!' I heard someone calling from behind as I walked alongside Ms Soni, who has been in deep thought since I showed my magic. I looked back to find Ms Solvent running towards me. That was not good. I will not strip! I had made up my mind. The bars to my mind were sturdier than my willingness to be praised. Of course, there is always a bargain... No! No! How could I? I won't! As I wondered about the price for my dignity, Ms Solvent arrived by my side. She was out of breath. I suppose an art professor shouldn't be doing physical activities. I saw Ms Orchard over her shoulder. That was a relief. I was quite worried what this woman would demand of me. Respect for my senior or dignity of my own. That was a difficult choice to make.
'That was amazing, Lile,' she said, looking at me with glimmering eyes.
'Thank you,' I said.
'It was wonderful to watch,' said Ms Orchard, who kept her reticent face. 'Thank you for showing us.' Again, I accepted their kind words with sincerity. I was joyed, but I did not allow them to see it. I held my grins and smiles. Soon, the others said the same things. People I knew, professors I didn't, and some I had heard of but did not know — all said a word or two. A few hellos and nice to meet you followed. I was an approachable person. It was a trait I was born with and something I had no qualms with. The Dean too said a word of praise. He said it was magical, and as correct as it was — after all, it indeed was magic — I understood the sentiment. It had only been five years since magic was found. The word 'magical' then was the highest form of praise. I saw the man leave after giving his best wishes with the black-haired menace.
'Let us go eat,' suggested Ms Solvent, and Ms Orchard and I agreed. Walking out of the back entrance, moving along the flow of professors, we found ourselves making our way towards the banquet hall that was only a five-minute walk away. Trees of lilac lined the paved path that we took.
I found a few students turning to look my way. Impressed by magic? I wondered as Ms Solvent kept asking me to join the Arts department. Apparently, that is where my talents lie. I was flattered, but I wondered if a professor of magic could simply be placed together with artisans. I haven't seen a painting that could kill someone, you see. I was aware — very aware that my supposed art could kill any man walking on this paved path. What grim thoughts, I thought. But it is the reality. I have learned to accept some things in life, one of them being the nature of magic. That is why it needs to be made common before it is used in the name of terror... To regulate something, one needs an influx of it.
I walked the winding path littered with purple flowers, their sight and smell pleasing my senses. Soon, I found myself in the corridor of a large manor with many halls, round tables and stairs for the guests, and a number of buffet tables. I saw students bustling about through the windows and doors, but we did not disturb their joy and celebrations. Instead, we followed the stairs and corridors that led to the largest hall on the third floor. A place only for professors. I found them rather serious. They were nothing like the cheery students on the other floors. I thought that was to be expected and heard a few conversations. Now, I wish to make it very clear that I was NOT eavesdropping; their words simply reached me. I simply happened to be there. I did not lean in, at all. I was not at all walking towards the ones that did not whisper and spoke openly. I was very courteous in my conduct and definitely did not mean to hear anything. I was respectful as I should be.
A few spoke of the Full-Moon Hunt that I recall Mr Quincy mentioning. There were those that spoke of my brilliant performance. My steps were quite unwilling to move along whenever I heard such words. It was difficult to be discreet in such situations, but I managed.
Some spoke of my faculty. They did not know where I would be placed, and why I hadn't been yet. I too wondered about that. Why was I not placed in any department? And when was I to be informed of it? Would it not be rather cumbersome to deal with if the arrangements are made after the students fill out their forms? They deserved to know what they were about to jump into, but I did not blame the Planning Offices or the Dean. They have too much on their hands, and I have seen it first-hand. I sniggered like a baby. Hands and first-hand. Heh, heh. It was a very bad jest and even though I acknowledged it, I laughed.
Even with a head that thought of pigeons as man's enemy, I could derive the reason for my subject's yet uncertain destiny. Magic is yet not defined well. Arcane Knowledge can be manifested in so many different ways. It is theoretical and practical. You do not simply learn of it; you manifest it. It can be used for beauty and destruction. It can be linked with the mysteries of the world, entering into the philosophical and the mythical. I sighed. Even each department has sub-departments.
I thought someone was looking my way, but I did not bother with it. Who wouldn't? I may not seem humble, but it was true. I had just shown magic of unbelievable beauty, and why would they not be infatuated with its creator? I thought about buying some gifts for the gentlemen that played in the pit for me, but I thought better of it, recalling the amount my wallet carried. The Lord of the Beggarly Hills does not spend.
As I decorated a plate with some of the most mouth-watering menus, I took a seat beside Ms Orchard as Ms Solvent kept telling us stories. All the while, I felt stares on me.
***
I sat there, waiting for Eric to stop piling food on his dish and come sit. I wished to discuss with someone, and Karla was no talker. I could only stare at the bowl of soup in front of me and sigh inwardly. That was so...wonderful. I kept thinking that.
'Look at this chicken dish, Selena!' the loud one said as he put a large platter on the table. He will embarrass me in front of everyone... But I did not give it much thought. My mind was occupied. 'I don't even know what it is called,' he said, eating crudely. He looked happy. What a simpleton, nothing like his brother. His spiky hair bounced as he ate.
'What do you think of it, Eric?' I asked. I have been meaning to discuss this for a while.
'Of what?'
'What we saw at the Ceremony,' I said carefully, after having a spoonful of hot soup. I burnt my tongue a little. It stings. It burns. I regretted it.
'Ah, that. Well,' — he took a large bite of the leg piece — 'it was great.' He kept chewing like an ape. He was the last thing from grace. Nothing like that sight. 'I am filling that form. Arcane Knowledge, definitely.'
'That is all you have to say? It was great?' I intoned. His stupidity was burning my grey cells. I felt a little offended.
'You know, it was... great,' he said, with the air of an idiot. He lacked vocabulary. Immensely. 'But it was all for the show.' Moron without sense or understanding, I summarised him. It was accurate. 'I want to see magic that has strength.'
'And what is that? What is magic with strength?' This time I drank after blowing the spoonful. It tasted good, but I had no appetite. I only had it for the sake of courtesy.
Eric was silent for a moment, then he said, 'Something that will break things. Destructive.' He had a glimmer in his eyes. It reminded me of his brother. Both had that fire, that spirit. Stupidity was not common in his family, but their thirst for power was apparent. I recalled their grandfather. He too was eccentric. Hated guns. What did he use to say...? Ah, yes. 'Sword is the way for men. Guns are for cowards.' Well, died of guns, didn't he? 'What about you?' suddenly Eric asked.
I thought about it for a minute, but I didn't know. 'I do not know,' I said. I want to create something like that, but— I do not know. Can I? Ability, perseverance... there are so many traits that I am not even aware if I have. I like stories, but do I like magic? 'What about you, Karla?' I asked the black-haired girl beside me. She had been staring at the watermelon bites in front of her. Eat it already.
'I will.' Her answer was brief and on point, as usual.
'No anatomy, anymore?' Eric asked.
'Both.'
'Why?'
She didn't answer. Eric prodded her, but she didn't say anything. I didn't waste my strength, thinking about that beautiful magic that bewitched so many. It dazzled me. Magic, such a mysterious thing, is to be used for creating pictures? Is it allowed, worth it? Is it not demeaning to the trade of mages? Mage. 'Being called Mage — wonderful, wouldn't it be?' I blurted out. I think everyone thinks so. Mage, discovery, glory, and name — things the young covet. I looked around and stood up. 'Will the Planning Offices be open by now?' I asked the loud one.
'Should be opening soon. They must have been present—' I did not listen to the rest and darted across the hall. I heard Eric's voice behind me. 'Hey, hey! Where are you running off to? Wait up!' Karla was right by me before I knew it, and Eric followed.
'Where are we going?' he asked, frustrated that he had to leave his platter.
'How many students do you think will be wanting to be in that class, after seeing that performance?' I looked at him, unintentionally scaring him with my eyes.
'A lot. Why?'
'The seats will be limited,' — moron — 'Do you think we will even have a chance to apply before the seats are filled?' I saw it dawn upon him and his steps hurried. 'Our hall was specified only for the freshmen. They are too busy enjoying the lavish hospitality.' Isn't this a bad jest? After showing us that sight, they distract us with a feast. Alarms were blaring in my head, and I felt a growing sense of urgency. I quickened my feet, running across the paved path. I saw the suspicious glances of students and the staff. Who cares? Nothing mattered. I needed to be there before it was too late. 'Seniors must have left before us, wanting to change their course, transfer classes. We must hurry.'
'Transfer form requires signatures of the respected professors,' Karla said. I was surprised to hear a whole sentence from her mouth. It was rare.
'That is good, but we must hurry. There should be some students from freshmen year there. We cannot sit on our hands while they rob us of our seats.'
We continued towards the tram stop. A few trams must have left before we arrived. Soon, one came. I read the number on the front. Twenty-six. An even number meant it would be going clockwise. It was going in the right direction. We took it. Ten minutes later we exited at a stop near a square. 'Liquim's Square,' Eric told me its name. Two minutes later, a tram arrived. This wasn't the one we needed to take. We waited for another three minutes when another tram arrived. We took it. And, ten more minutes later, we found ourselves at our stop.
The sun was nearly on our heads, but it was not scorching. It was rather pleasant unlike the state of my mind and the beating of my heart. I was quite worried what would happen if I couldn't get into that class. That beauty, I would never be able to witness or recreate. I ran as fast as I could. I even went into the wrong alleyway once or twice but soon found myself across a bridge that led to the white building by the canal. We rushed, our steps making loud sounds on the stone bridge and entered the building with the anxiety of a thief. 'What?' Eric muttered. I was in shock, and Karla simply stood there.
I had been here at the time of my admission, and I had seen the interior. The long, empty corridors without any rooms — I understood why the place was designed so. There was a long queue that led from the entrance to the first floor of the building. There was a sign in the middle that read: Left for freshmen. Right for course transfer requests.
Both queues were long, and I despaired.
***
I had a very lovely breakfast and was on my way to my office. Ms Solvent had left earlier, and Ms Orchard was leading me. The ground floor is mostly an entrance and an office to sign our entries, I thought. First floor for newly appointed professors like me and a few others. 'Your office is not on this floor, Ms Orchard?' I asked the lovely woman.
'No,' she said, turning to look at me. 'Mine is on the second floor.'
'I see.' I looked around, finding a few names I had recently heard and a few I had yet to. 'I thought we would have offices in our department buildings.'
'That was how it used to be before I joined, but many professors carry valuables or intellectual property. They fear it may be stolen; hence, this building exists. It is guarded well.' I nodded. I did indeed see the black-uniformed men. 'Many teachers still like to be in their own department's buildings. Ms Solvent, for example, does not have an office in the main building. She prefers the Art Department building. She has an office there if you ever wish to visit.' I nodded along. At the end of the corridor, Ms Orchard stopped. 'This one is yours, Mr Dew,' she said, gesturing at one of the doors. It had my name on it. Mr Lile Dew, Professor of Arcane Knowledge. 'The key will be in the top left drawer of your desk. Do not forget to lock the door, and remember to take the key with you when leaving.' I agreed vehemently. 'Then, Mr Dew, this is farewell,' she said, turning around.
I looked at her back and felt a little regret. I liked that woman. I did not wish her to insinuate anything romantic, but I still said the following words, hoping she would not misunderstand and be revolted. 'Ms Orchard,' I called her, and she looked back, reticent as always. 'You may call me Lile.'
She seemed a little bewildered, but I had no more words. Ms Solvent called me Lile, why not her too? My thinking was of such simplicity. You are older, and Mr Dew sounds... distant. Perhaps, she understood. 'Fine, then,' she said, with her iconic slight grin. 'Until later, Lile.' And she left.
I felt a little relieved and embarrassed. I hoped I was not demanding. No! no! It must be my immense charm that convinced her. With such faulty thoughts, I knocked on the door. Wait, the office is mine, is it not? I hoped no one saw me, and no one did. But before I could turn the knob, I heard a voice.
'Please, come in.' It came from inside.
'That was brilliant, Mr Dew,' Mr Quincy said to me as we left the stage for the backstage. 'That was simply marvellous. I appreciate art even though my loyalties lie with science.' He had a subtle grin on his face, and he kept searching for someone. 'Please excuse me,' he said, leaving me to myself. I saw him walking towards some man who looked to be in his fifties.
'Lile!' I heard someone calling from behind as I walked alongside Ms Soni, who has been in deep thought since I showed my magic. I looked back to find Ms Solvent running towards me. That was not good. I will not strip! I had made up my mind. The bars to my mind were sturdier than my willingness to be praised. Of course, there is always a bargain... No! No! How could I? I won't! As I wondered about the price for my dignity, Ms Solvent arrived by my side. She was out of breath. I suppose an art professor shouldn't be doing physical activities. I saw Ms Orchard over her shoulder. That was a relief. I was quite worried what this woman would demand of me. Respect for my senior or dignity of my own. That was a difficult choice to make.
'That was amazing, Lile,' she said, looking at me with glimmering eyes.
'Thank you,' I said.
'It was wonderful to watch,' said Ms Orchard, who kept her reticent face. 'Thank you for showing us.' Again, I accepted their kind words with sincerity. I was joyed, but I did not allow them to see it. I held my grins and smiles. Soon, the others said the same things. People I knew, professors I didn't, and some I had heard of but did not know — all said a word or two. A few hellos and nice to meet you followed. I was an approachable person. It was a trait I was born with and something I had no qualms with. The Dean too said a word of praise. He said it was magical, and as correct as it was — after all, it indeed was magic — I understood the sentiment. It had only been five years since magic was found. The word 'magical' then was the highest form of praise. I saw the man leave after giving his best wishes with the black-haired menace.
'Let us go eat,' suggested Ms Solvent, and Ms Orchard and I agreed. Walking out of the back entrance, moving along the flow of professors, we found ourselves making our way towards the banquet hall that was only a five-minute walk away. Trees of lilac lined the paved path that we took.
I found a few students turning to look my way. Impressed by magic? I wondered as Ms Solvent kept asking me to join the Arts department. Apparently, that is where my talents lie. I was flattered, but I wondered if a professor of magic could simply be placed together with artisans. I haven't seen a painting that could kill someone, you see. I was aware — very aware that my supposed art could kill any man walking on this paved path. What grim thoughts, I thought. But it is the reality. I have learned to accept some things in life, one of them being the nature of magic. That is why it needs to be made common before it is used in the name of terror... To regulate something, one needs an influx of it.
I walked the winding path littered with purple flowers, their sight and smell pleasing my senses. Soon, I found myself in the corridor of a large manor with many halls, round tables and stairs for the guests, and a number of buffet tables. I saw students bustling about through the windows and doors, but we did not disturb their joy and celebrations. Instead, we followed the stairs and corridors that led to the largest hall on the third floor. A place only for professors. I found them rather serious. They were nothing like the cheery students on the other floors. I thought that was to be expected and heard a few conversations. Now, I wish to make it very clear that I was NOT eavesdropping; their words simply reached me. I simply happened to be there. I did not lean in, at all. I was not at all walking towards the ones that did not whisper and spoke openly. I was very courteous in my conduct and definitely did not mean to hear anything. I was respectful as I should be.
A few spoke of the Full-Moon Hunt that I recall Mr Quincy mentioning. There were those that spoke of my brilliant performance. My steps were quite unwilling to move along whenever I heard such words. It was difficult to be discreet in such situations, but I managed.
Some spoke of my faculty. They did not know where I would be placed, and why I hadn't been yet. I too wondered about that. Why was I not placed in any department? And when was I to be informed of it? Would it not be rather cumbersome to deal with if the arrangements are made after the students fill out their forms? They deserved to know what they were about to jump into, but I did not blame the Planning Offices or the Dean. They have too much on their hands, and I have seen it first-hand. I sniggered like a baby. Hands and first-hand. Heh, heh. It was a very bad jest and even though I acknowledged it, I laughed.
Even with a head that thought of pigeons as man's enemy, I could derive the reason for my subject's yet uncertain destiny. Magic is yet not defined well. Arcane Knowledge can be manifested in so many different ways. It is theoretical and practical. You do not simply learn of it; you manifest it. It can be used for beauty and destruction. It can be linked with the mysteries of the world, entering into the philosophical and the mythical. I sighed. Even each department has sub-departments.
I thought someone was looking my way, but I did not bother with it. Who wouldn't? I may not seem humble, but it was true. I had just shown magic of unbelievable beauty, and why would they not be infatuated with its creator? I thought about buying some gifts for the gentlemen that played in the pit for me, but I thought better of it, recalling the amount my wallet carried. The Lord of the Beggarly Hills does not spend.
As I decorated a plate with some of the most mouth-watering menus, I took a seat beside Ms Orchard as Ms Solvent kept telling us stories. All the while, I felt stares on me.
***
I sat there, waiting for Eric to stop piling food on his dish and come sit. I wished to discuss with someone, and Karla was no talker. I could only stare at the bowl of soup in front of me and sigh inwardly. That was so...wonderful. I kept thinking that.
'Look at this chicken dish, Selena!' the loud one said as he put a large platter on the table. He will embarrass me in front of everyone... But I did not give it much thought. My mind was occupied. 'I don't even know what it is called,' he said, eating crudely. He looked happy. What a simpleton, nothing like his brother. His spiky hair bounced as he ate.
'What do you think of it, Eric?' I asked. I have been meaning to discuss this for a while.
'Of what?'
'What we saw at the Ceremony,' I said carefully, after having a spoonful of hot soup. I burnt my tongue a little. It stings. It burns. I regretted it.
'Ah, that. Well,' — he took a large bite of the leg piece — 'it was great.' He kept chewing like an ape. He was the last thing from grace. Nothing like that sight. 'I am filling that form. Arcane Knowledge, definitely.'
'That is all you have to say? It was great?' I intoned. His stupidity was burning my grey cells. I felt a little offended.
'You know, it was... great,' he said, with the air of an idiot. He lacked vocabulary. Immensely. 'But it was all for the show.' Moron without sense or understanding, I summarised him. It was accurate. 'I want to see magic that has strength.'
'And what is that? What is magic with strength?' This time I drank after blowing the spoonful. It tasted good, but I had no appetite. I only had it for the sake of courtesy.
Eric was silent for a moment, then he said, 'Something that will break things. Destructive.' He had a glimmer in his eyes. It reminded me of his brother. Both had that fire, that spirit. Stupidity was not common in his family, but their thirst for power was apparent. I recalled their grandfather. He too was eccentric. Hated guns. What did he use to say...? Ah, yes. 'Sword is the way for men. Guns are for cowards.' Well, died of guns, didn't he? 'What about you?' suddenly Eric asked.
I thought about it for a minute, but I didn't know. 'I do not know,' I said. I want to create something like that, but— I do not know. Can I? Ability, perseverance... there are so many traits that I am not even aware if I have. I like stories, but do I like magic? 'What about you, Karla?' I asked the black-haired girl beside me. She had been staring at the watermelon bites in front of her. Eat it already.
'I will.' Her answer was brief and on point, as usual.
'No anatomy, anymore?' Eric asked.
'Both.'
'Why?'
She didn't answer. Eric prodded her, but she didn't say anything. I didn't waste my strength, thinking about that beautiful magic that bewitched so many. It dazzled me. Magic, such a mysterious thing, is to be used for creating pictures? Is it allowed, worth it? Is it not demeaning to the trade of mages? Mage. 'Being called Mage — wonderful, wouldn't it be?' I blurted out. I think everyone thinks so. Mage, discovery, glory, and name — things the young covet. I looked around and stood up. 'Will the Planning Offices be open by now?' I asked the loud one.
'Should be opening soon. They must have been present—' I did not listen to the rest and darted across the hall. I heard Eric's voice behind me. 'Hey, hey! Where are you running off to? Wait up!' Karla was right by me before I knew it, and Eric followed.
'Where are we going?' he asked, frustrated that he had to leave his platter.
'How many students do you think will be wanting to be in that class, after seeing that performance?' I looked at him, unintentionally scaring him with my eyes.
'A lot. Why?'
'The seats will be limited,' — moron — 'Do you think we will even have a chance to apply before the seats are filled?' I saw it dawn upon him and his steps hurried. 'Our hall was specified only for the freshmen. They are too busy enjoying the lavish hospitality.' Isn't this a bad jest? After showing us that sight, they distract us with a feast. Alarms were blaring in my head, and I felt a growing sense of urgency. I quickened my feet, running across the paved path. I saw the suspicious glances of students and the staff. Who cares? Nothing mattered. I needed to be there before it was too late. 'Seniors must have left before us, wanting to change their course, transfer classes. We must hurry.'
'Transfer form requires signatures of the respected professors,' Karla said. I was surprised to hear a whole sentence from her mouth. It was rare.
'That is good, but we must hurry. There should be some students from freshmen year there. We cannot sit on our hands while they rob us of our seats.'
We continued towards the tram stop. A few trams must have left before we arrived. Soon, one came. I read the number on the front. Twenty-six. An even number meant it would be going clockwise. It was going in the right direction. We took it. Ten minutes later we exited at a stop near a square. 'Liquim's Square,' Eric told me its name. Two minutes later, a tram arrived. This wasn't the one we needed to take. We waited for another three minutes when another tram arrived. We took it. And, ten more minutes later, we found ourselves at our stop.
The sun was nearly on our heads, but it was not scorching. It was rather pleasant unlike the state of my mind and the beating of my heart. I was quite worried what would happen if I couldn't get into that class. That beauty, I would never be able to witness or recreate. I ran as fast as I could. I even went into the wrong alleyway once or twice but soon found myself across a bridge that led to the white building by the canal. We rushed, our steps making loud sounds on the stone bridge and entered the building with the anxiety of a thief. 'What?' Eric muttered. I was in shock, and Karla simply stood there.
I had been here at the time of my admission, and I had seen the interior. The long, empty corridors without any rooms — I understood why the place was designed so. There was a long queue that led from the entrance to the first floor of the building. There was a sign in the middle that read: Left for freshmen. Right for course transfer requests.
Both queues were long, and I despaired.
***
I had a very lovely breakfast and was on my way to my office. Ms Solvent had left earlier, and Ms Orchard was leading me. The ground floor is mostly an entrance and an office to sign our entries, I thought. First floor for newly appointed professors like me and a few others. 'Your office is not on this floor, Ms Orchard?' I asked the lovely woman.
'No,' she said, turning to look at me. 'Mine is on the second floor.'
'I see.' I looked around, finding a few names I had recently heard and a few I had yet to. 'I thought we would have offices in our department buildings.'
'That was how it used to be before I joined, but many professors carry valuables or intellectual property. They fear it may be stolen; hence, this building exists. It is guarded well.' I nodded. I did indeed see the black-uniformed men. 'Many teachers still like to be in their own department's buildings. Ms Solvent, for example, does not have an office in the main building. She prefers the Art Department building. She has an office there if you ever wish to visit.' I nodded along. At the end of the corridor, Ms Orchard stopped. 'This one is yours, Mr Dew,' she said, gesturing at one of the doors. It had my name on it. Mr Lile Dew, Professor of Arcane Knowledge. 'The key will be in the top left drawer of your desk. Do not forget to lock the door, and remember to take the key with you when leaving.' I agreed vehemently. 'Then, Mr Dew, this is farewell,' she said, turning around.
I looked at her back and felt a little regret. I liked that woman. I did not wish her to insinuate anything romantic, but I still said the following words, hoping she would not misunderstand and be revolted. 'Ms Orchard,' I called her, and she looked back, reticent as always. 'You may call me Lile.'
She seemed a little bewildered, but I had no more words. Ms Solvent called me Lile, why not her too? My thinking was of such simplicity. You are older, and Mr Dew sounds... distant. Perhaps, she understood. 'Fine, then,' she said, with her iconic slight grin. 'Until later, Lile.' And she left.
I felt a little relieved and embarrassed. I hoped I was not demanding. No! no! It must be my immense charm that convinced her. With such faulty thoughts, I knocked on the door. Wait, the office is mine, is it not? I hoped no one saw me, and no one did. But before I could turn the knob, I heard a voice.
'Please, come in.' It came from inside.
