Chapter 330 - Twee

No. Definitely not.

Cassian wiped the recording from the crystal cube and set the last file atop the discarded pile—by now, it towered over his desk. He would have burned them, if not for his secretary’s nagging about waste.

How could someone born with every advantage accomplish so little? It was shameful. Too many old bloodlines had grown stagnant, using their position as a pedestal to look down rather than a foothold to climb higher.

If their inanity didn’t bleed into the wider Republic, he’d gladly watch them fall when the wake-up call came. Alas…

Cassian exhaled a slow breath.

It’s not a bad year.

Many professors viewed the Winter Intake as fodder to fill out the ranks and motivate current students. The belief held some merit. From a thousand new intakes in Mana Studies, less than a third finished the first year, and the number fell to a tenth by the end of the second.

Still, there were always surprises. And this year, they were particularly plentiful.

His gaze settled on the thirty-four files he had selected. Those would join his personal archive to observe—a privilege of being the dean.

He rarely misjudged students, and the first-year trials were specifically designed for that purpose. There could be no growth without true stakes.

One step at a time.

Cassian stored the files in his orichalcum ring—all except for two. He skimmed the examiners’ notes, letting his skills form a more complete picture. Both were interesting in their own ways, though only one required an urgent decision.

Rain Ryuu. Almost certainly a false name.

A foreign youth welcomed by the Republic. If the boy was a spy, he had put remarkably little effort in concealing his origins—too little to even be intentional. And what kingdom would send an agent with such talent?

Not even the immortal kingdoms.

The story here was more complex, or perhaps simpler.

Cassian smiled as a knock sounded at his office door. Boldness and subtlety both had a place. He could spend all night speculating, or find the truth from the source.

“Enter.”

Gladys opened the door. Glancing at the files piled beside his desk, her stern wrinkles smoothed into almost-approval. “The student you requested.” She stood aside with a shallow bow and let in the subject of his musings.

Interesting.

Rain Ryuu entered his study with no hint of wariness, nor flinching when the door shut behind him.

Cassian had never cared much for appearances—least of all in students—but the boy had something magnetic about him. What was it? The snowy hair and light amber eyes revealed new shades as the light touched them, but he had seen more dazzling combinations. Was it the shape of his features then? Something in the proportions that spurred him to keep looking. Almost like…

Elowen.

Though the student looked nothing like her, he carried a similar otherworldly presence. It seemed glaring now. Those memories refused to fade even after a decade of attempts.

Not to reminisce.

“Come, take a seat.” Cassian gestured to the free chair. Acting nonchalant, he stacked a few stray documents beneath a brass songbird paperweight. “Excuse the chaos. I haven’t had time to clean up.”

The student surveyed the artifacts and ancient tomes on the shelves with calm curiosity. As he approached the desk, the amber eyes moved onto Cassian. Where even professors and senators tended to avert their eyes, Rain Ryuu openly held his gaze.

No mere child could face a fifth circle mage without faltering—not unless it weren’t their first time meeting an individual at Blue.

Why is he making it that obvious? Or he just… doesn’t care?

Cassian couldn’t recall the last time that happened. After reclaiming his position in House Astares, every person around him wanted something; whether knowledge, favors, wealth, or just his approval.

But the boy didn’t care for his status, no more than for his secretary in the hall.

Cassian almost laughed. His heart quickened to a beat every few seconds, excited by the discovery. Rain Ryuu was most definitely not

human.

And he's not wearing a disguise.

His skills and wards had both agreed: no artifact, illusion, or biomancer stitchwork. The boy’s flesh was as real as his own.

Few species could pass as human—fewer still if he excluded those from myths or long extinct.

Two possibilities.

A shapeshifter would have used a more subtle approach. It was in their nature to blend in. Even when they hid in plain sight, they still hid.

A siren.

That explained the boy’s self-assurance. The arrogance of races that never had to fear a bigger predator. Cassian was familiar with it.

The question is why he’s here…

“You wished to see me.” The boy took the initiative to speak. His voice was pleasantly musical, though harmless so far from the sea.

Cassian slightly smiled. “I assume you know why.”

The boy pursed his lips, taking his time. “Yes.”

“Twee.” A merry note came from the paperweight on the desk—a songbird of brass and blue enamel. While its species was long extinct, the enchanted copy survived the millennia.

Truth.

The boy looked at the artifact, guessing at its purpose.

“I highly value honesty,” Cassian said. He had excavated the songbird himself from a ruin in the Golden Coast. Not the most powerful truth-scryer he possessed, but it was ancient and hard to fool.

Indeed, it might be the most feared artifact in the entire collegium. Revered professors paled and stammered at its sight when he summoned them. Contrary to common belief, he had found that displaying a truth-scryer could be more effective than hiding it.

Rain studied the bird's tilted head, not worried, only curious and… fascinated? “Could you tell me where I can find one?”

That is a first.

“Nowhere that I know.” He gently brushed the blue feathers. “The people who created this artifact have long since disappeared.”

“Sorry, I meant the bird they used for inspiration.”

Is he…

Cassian leaned back in his armchair—the boy looked totally serious. “I’m afraid the species has also gone extinct. People believed they could tell the truth from lies and captured them till none remained.”

“I see…” Rain slumped with disappointment. When he looked up, his gaze was clear again. “So, are you going to expel me?”

Not wasting time. Good.

“Should I?” Cassian asked back, letting the question hang. “Raelion was founded to help youths grow to their full potential, away from external interests. Contrary to some of my predecessors, I don’t care about who my students were before enrolling. Only about their intentions here.”

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He studied the teen across from him. “You must know your presence is unusual. Who sent you to Raelion?”

“No one. I came on my own.” No hesitation in the answer or nervousness on his face.

“Twee.” The songbird announced its decree.

Cassian laced his ringed fingers on the rim of the desk. “Do you have any ulterior motives for enrolling?”

“No.” Again, Rain showed no hesitation.

“Twee.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cassian said. The second truth-scryer on his finger confirmed the boy believed that was the truth. Another advantage of having the songbird on display—no one thought to look for a second artifact.

Still, that didn’t explain why a siren enrolled in his academy.

Is it truly a whim?

Applying human common sense to other races was futile by definition, especially to those born so high. At the same time, forcing certain answers wouldn’t be wise till he had a complete picture.

“Do you plan anything that might be harmful to the academy or its students?” Cassin asked instead.

Rain wrinkled his nose. “That’s too vague for anything but yes. Is hurting their pride harmful? Or taking the credits that could have gone to another student? Or what if a professor burns down the academy because they don’t like me?” He listed without inflections. “It might happen.”

He put in some thought.

“Indeed, it might.” Cassian chuckled. Since he had returned to the Republic, few people dared to disagree with him openly, much less call him out. He would have been suspicious if the boy answered no without thought. “Let me rephrase it. Will you follow the rules of Raelion’s Academy? And not intentionally cause harm?”

“As much as any other student, and to the best of my knowledge,” Rain replied flatly. He went back to studying the songbird as if the conversation held no interest to him.

“Twee!”

His composure before a Fifth Circle mage was impressive, though his origins wouldn’t protect him if Cassian chose to turn him to ashes.

A proud fool or a young monster.

He considered flaring his aura to call the bluff. In his youth, he might have. But though he looked still in his thirties, he wasn’t nearly so young. Patience had been the toughest and most rewarding lesson he had to master to reach his position.

“Are there other sirens coming to Raelion?” Cassian asked without changing expression. “As students or others?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Anyone who knows you’re here?”

Rain tapped the songbird’s brass and blue enamel. “They might or might not. But they will find out if I disappear.”

“Twee.”

Not a fool then.

Was the boy a wayward exile or a runaway scion?

“One last question,” Cassian said, wishing to ask a thousand more. “The two students who enrolled with you. Are they also linked to your… birthplace?”

“No.” The boy’s gaze snapped upwards; gold and silver speckles glowed in his eyes, anger flaring. His jaw clenched. “They have nothing to do with it. We met by chance after I left.”

“Twee.”

The first honest emotion the siren showed since entering his office. And it regarded his companions. Were they thralls under compulsion? Servants picked up along the way? Or learned secrets Rain wanted to keep hidden?

Interesting.

Cassian sensed he had found an important thread. If he dug further, he might unravel the mystery—at least part of it. Still, he chose to relent.

Patience was key when dealing with higher races. With no imminent threat to Raelion, he could find the rest out with time and observation.

“Thank you for your honesty. Assuming nothing else comes up, you may stay at Raelion,” Cassian said. “Of course, you won’t receive any special privileges and be treated like any other student.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Rain stood back in his chair, his eyes back to serene ponds. “It means I can still use the credits I’ve earned?”

“Yes.”

“Twee!”

~~~

Three moons drifted across the night sky, their pale light catching on the clouds that veiled their edges.

The largest celestial body cast a faint green, its surface scarred with shadowed craters. The divine scriptures named it the Moon of Vigor and Perseverance, tied to the attribute of Endurance—though Kai had never cared to learn more.

It shared its orbit with a slightly smaller sister that glowed a faded blue, the color so washed out, he had once thought it a trick of light.

He knew it was the Moon of Wisdom and Knowledge from the students walking the path around him. Commoners and proud patricians alike turned their faces skyward, eyes closed, palms raised. They murmured formulaic verses under their breath, then went on their way.

The Seven Moons rarely meddled in mortal matters and were especially distant presences in the archipelago, only showing in odd sayings and nightly rituals on the hills of Higharbor.

Kai had sometimes wondered why the church never tried to convert the isles, but idle curiosity couldn’t make him pry into divine affairs.

He had read enough histories in Virya’s library to know better. The Moons’ understated touch made it easy to forget that sixty million citizens in the Republic worshipped them.

Are they actually watching us?

Kai peered at the sky. It was harder to tell superstition from truth in a world where magic and gods were proven concepts. Perhaps, it was time he learned more about them—but not tonight.

Let’s not be late.

Lamplights hung like bell flowers on arched stems, casting a soft glow over the cobbled paths. He followed the stream of first-year students out of the sparse thicket, one of many trails crossing the snowy fields towards a massive domed building.

The amphitheater prepared for Mana Studies’ welcome ceremony and the sorting stood like a dark leviathan against the night sky. Its humongous size matched the number of students—a thousand from Winter Intake, joining those already enrolled.

So damn cold.

With the sun gone, the temperature had plunged deep below freezing. Kai buttoned his enchanted coat up to his chin. It looked like the patricians’ puffy cloaks were more than a showy display of wealth.

Leaving his arms at his sides, he conjured a tiny ember in his cupped palms. It was surprising how much heat the smallest flames could produce—or how they strained his meager Fire affinity.

Joining the crowds around the amphitheater, the night air warmed enough not to sting his lungs. Probably some ward. Kai didn’t bother looking for it; a web of glowing enchantments ran below every patch of ground in Raleion.

Where is he?

Hesitant to spread his senses, he stepped onto a stone bench looking for the head of platinum hair. Nowhere in sight. Flynn had gone to the Martial Studies’ welcome ceremony, while Rain had disappeared, saying he had to meet someone.

There were too many swarming people and too little light. Above him, the Lost Sister peeked through the clouds—the smallest and brightest moon, drifting further apart from her siblings, painting the sky in shades of ethereal violet.

For all its supposed mystical omens, Kai still failed to spot Rain. After craning his neck for a minute, he decided to follow the flow of new students into the amphitheater. Rain must already be inside, or have used another entrance.

Just me.

Crossing the stone corridors and emerging onto the bleachers, Kai paused to stare at the countless rows of seats until the student behind him shoved past. With the lighting inside, he could properly grasp how insanely huge the building was. Spacious despite the thousands gathered.

The older first-years already sat on the higher stands, Valela and her giggling friends somewhere among them. Halfway through lunch, he had given up deciphering their game of smiles and glances.

They didn’t pry into his life after the initial round of questions. Flynn also seemed to know something, but refused to tell him.

It doesn’t matter.

Kai followed the clerks’ directions to sit on the lower levels closer to the stage. Settling into the wooden chair, he distracted himself with the conversations around while he waited. The waves of excited murmurs crossed the crowd about the imminent sorting of the rooms.

Many arms pointed at the stage below, where a deep purple drape hid the rumored Bowl of Fate. Kai could only see its vague, round shape. Valela and Renaria described the artifact as a glorified draw machine, a way to assign rooms and ensure impartiality.

The tradition traced back to the academy’s founding, and like all old traditions, it gave birth to many superstitions about fated roommates, lifelong friends and enemies. With thousands of students each year, finding examples pro and against was just a numbers game.

Hopefully, I won’t end up with anyone too annoying.

Soon, the people stopped streaming inside, and a thundering voice demanded their attention.

"Good evening!” The stout figure of the Head Examiner walked onto the stage, positioning himself beside the purple drape. “Welcome to Raelion for all the new students who passed the testing. As for the more experienced first-years, I expect you’ll lead your peers by example.”

Why does he always shout?

Maybe forcing them to cover their ears was an unorthodox way to ensure they couldn’t get distracted. Kai really hoped he wouldn’t end up in one of the man’s classes.

Despite the volume, the welcome speech was blessedly brief. Dry congratulations for enrolling with a warning that things would only get harder, and instructions for tomorrow’s lessons.

“Now, we’ll proceed with the sorting of the rooms.” The Head Examiner unveiled the hidden artifact on the stage. An old bronze bowl encased in spiraling tubes of metal and faded runes.

The lower seats of the amphitheater filled with awed whispers, while the students on the higher seats looked down with chuckles.

“You’ll channel your mana into the Bowl of Fate and receive a token with your room number. Before anyone asks, once you draw your lot, the results are final! Whether you end up with people you like or hate, I won’t hear any whining. If you can’t handle so little, Realion isn’t the place for you. Now, form a line.”

Various attendants directed the new students to form a queue from the lower seats. Kai followed them. He still couldn’t see Rain, but there were so many people that he didn’t worry.

Descending toward the stage, the other students hid the Bowl of Fate from view, though he could hear the tokens rattling in the tubes as the artifact spat out the numbers.

Soon, he stood before the old hunk of bronze.