696 Isharan Year. 9 years ago.  

Lutién glanced to his left at his attendant as they approached the college grounds. At the age of seventeen, she was his mother’s handmaiden’s eldest daughter and had been serving their family for the past five years. She was accompanying him as his personal attendant over the next six years as he studied at the only magicka college in the western half of the continent. 

She brushed her light-brown hair behind her ear with her right hand, wide eyed in awe. The entrance was quite a sight. They had walked through the Magicka City Naralíné, its technology and splendors a completely fascinating experience. There were crystal-lit streetlamps, open crystal markets selling glowing crystal clusters and beautiful gemstones, and shops hawking staves made of exotic wood and branches. Grimoire traders were selling and exchanging dusty tomes dating to the first and second dawn in cramped shops, boutiques were peddling a variety of curios and wonders from around the continent and quaint teahouses in the Ílorísían style lined the cramped cobblestone streets, that had mosses growing in between the stones. Foremost, this was a city built by mages for mages, and it existed to serve the needs of the college and its students. 

“Taíla are you surprised?” Lutién asked with a smile. She looked down at him. She was four years older than he was, and quite a bit taller.

“I am, Lutién-shié,” she said softly. 

Lutién and Taíla were approaching one of the entrances to the college grounds, the so-called Wisteria Gate. The college’s grounds were enclosed with a dry-stone wall that was overgrown with ivy, and a forested buffer area all along the inside fence to obscure the grounds within. But each gate featured a theme, and the Wisteria Gate was one of the most breathtaking sights on the campus. 

In front of them, students were walking through the gate and onto a brick path, completely covered with an immense overhead arched trellis where wisteria grew unchecked, its pink flowers hanging down like a cascading waterfall of color. It swayed in the warm late-summer breeze, the sun shining through and lighting up the petal covered path in patches. 

On the ground next to the open gate was a large flat stone the height of a man, with “Naralíné Akarí sa Anabírénoré” carved in the Aítanagarí script— The Naralíné College of Illumination. Two college representatives stood at the gate, a man and a woman, each dressed in ceremonial robes, checking students’ credentials before letting them pass. Lutién looked at Taíla, and gave her a quick nod, and she passed him the acceptance letter from her sling bag. He adjusted the black bonnet cap on his head and joined the line of students waiting to enter. 

His turn soon came, and he passed the letter to the woman, her eyes scanning the paper.

“Lutién-shié sa Aíshé?”

“Pleased to meet you.” Lutién bowed. “And this is my attendant Taíla.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “You’re thirteen?”

Lutién was a little short for his age, and he did look young. He was an average looking boy with his black hair parted to the side, with a youthful face, blue eyes and tan skin. He wore the full uniform, a black buttoned up long-sleeved shirt with a medium length collar that buttons on the right side of the chest with white trim, black knee length breeches and long white socks with black shoes. Over this, he wore a cloak, tied in the front with gold rope, and trimmed in gold thread. On his head was a beret bonnet cap with red pom. The cap surely wasn’t doing him any favors in looking his age.

“I am, my lady,” he replied politely.

With a raised eyebrow, she waved him in and the two stepped through the gate. 

Lutién couldn’t help but look up at the flowers, as the pink petals fell silently through the air. As he walked, Taíla kept his stride. She was only a few years older than he was, but she looked like a grown up to him. She was not like the other handmaids either and he assumed it was because she was new and still rough around the edges. She didn’t talk much, but Lutién did enough talking for the both of them. But still, she was a girl, and she was so far from home. He was told by his mother to take care of her, so he would try his best. 

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Lutién held out his hand to catch a falling petal. “I think I would like to see something like this at my Uncle-shié’s estate. Would that be nice?”

Lutién looked at the ground. His attendant remained stoic. “The Magicka City is something else, huh? Everything is built for mages!” His voice quivered slightly. “Uh… the trip here on the carriage went well too. How about the food we had?”

The wisteria covered path continued for a time, curving up a hill. Other students walked alongside them, with some of the boys playing with each other and roughhousing. Noble girls were gossiping amongst each other, and next to each of them was an attendant. They were all allowed one servant that they could bring with them from home.  

“I did not know that—”

“Lutién-shié …” Taíla stopped walking. “I’m fine with this. I don’t mind accompanying you. So, you don’t have to be considerate of me.”

Lutién looked at his attendant. Maybe this girl was stronger than he gave her credit for. He reached his hand up to her head, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she had spoken out of turn to the young shié and was going to be scolded. But he pulled away, and opening her eyes, she saw that he held a pink flower petal between his thumb and index finger.

“You had this in your hair Taíla.” He flicked it away and turned, continuing on the path. Sometimes he did things like this, unintentionally causing her heart to flutter. She met his stride again alongside him. 

“I apologize,” she said after some time, “I spoke rudely.”

“It is alright. I was nervous because I thought that you would be upset being away from home for so long.” 

Ahead, the path opened to the college grounds proper and the tree-lined quad in front of the school’s administration building, with islands of greenery and small ponds stocked with exotic fish and aquatic plants. As they walked, the overhead trellises gave way to bright blue open skies. It was a particularly beautiful day for an opening ceremony. 

“The auditorium is ahead and to the left,” Taíla said, while referencing the map that was enclosed with the acceptance letter. 

They walked a bit further through the crowded quad, Lutién looking up toward the skies. He had spent his whole life in a rural kosonia in the Kingdom of Yukosía and was used to overcast skies and rain. He had rarely ever seen a sky so blue and so clear of clouds. And all it took was a trip to the Dominion of Lorise. He wished he was able to visit sooner. 

Lost in daydreams, he bumped into a girl who tumbled to the ground.

“I apologize!” he said, quickly offering her a hand. The girl grasped it, and he pulled her to her feet. 

She was shorter than him by a head, with wavy brown hair that was cut short to her chin and brown eyes. She wore the standard girl’s uniform, a long-sleeved white blouse, with a black and gold bodice, and a long, high-waisted black pleated skirt. Over that, was a white mantle with black trim, that buttons down the front. And then of course, on her head was the traditional black bonnet cap with red pom that had a pin on it depicting her class year. Her pin had the glyph ‘ín’, representing the number one. She was a first year, just like Lutién was.

The girl noticed the attendant standing to the side of Lutién and bowed deeply. “No, no it was my fault Kísén-shié!” she said in a husky voice. 

She didn’t have an attendant with her and was too deferential and too respectful to be a noble, as no noble would call another noble kísén-shié. It was most likely that she was of common birth. 

A commoner attending the College had to have prodigious talent to earn the sponsorship of a noble to pay their tuition. Lutién thought that he must have just bumped into an amazing person.

“I am Lutién, and this is Taíla. What is your name?”

She looked up at him in astonishment. He wasn’t going to scold her, or bully her? He wasn’t like the other nobles who had been talking down to her or talking about her in hushed whispers behind her back. Since she had started instinctively using magicka, both commoners and nobles avoided her, or spread rumors about her. 

“I’m Komorí, but you can call me Morí. That’s what my family calls me back home.” She gave a quick curtsey, but it was clumsy and all wrong. 

Lutién chuckled. “Alright Morí! You seem lost.”

Komorí patted her skirt. “There aren’t any pockets, and I have no attendant. I lost my invitation somewhere…”

Lutién looked at Taíla, who nodded. “Well come with us then. We are on our way to the auditorium.”

“Can I?” A beaming smile spread across Komorí’s face. They walked together through the quad.

“So where are you from, Morí?”

“It’s a place called Ríanémarí, on the southern coast of Palénsía.”

It wasn’t just any city; it was the capital. Her skin was tanned dark, and the south of Palénsía was largely tropical. That made sense. It also explained her accent, which sounded smoother, like the words were flowing out of her mouth. She didn’t pronounce ‘k’, it sounded like an ‘h’, and ‘sh’ just became ‘s.’ And she said some words differently. Lutién could understand most of what she said and his mind filled in the blanks. 

“It’s a beautiful city on a hillside overlooking the ocean. All the houses and streets are white-stone, and the city sparkles in the sunlight. Lavender grows wild on the hills from the moya in the morning and it’s in bloom now in late summer… I’m sure the entire city smells amazing.”

The ‘ocean sapphire city’ sounded like a great place to live. Lutién watched her speak, her eyes lighting up. He didn’t know what moya was, but she really did love her hometown.

“It sounds amazing! I have never visited Palénsía, and I have never actually seen the ocean. I envy you.”

“It’s beautiful, sure, but other than that it’s not that great. It’s a poor city, and crops hardly grow in the soil. Even though the King lives there.” She smiled gingerly. “Where are you from Lutién-shié?”

“We are both from the Aíshé Kosonia in Yukosía. It rains a lot and is constantly overcast, but the weather is warm otherwise. There are more lakes than people there, and more tea plantations than lakes. It is a big, flat, wet land. Not like here.” Lutién gestured around. The city was situated in a large valley in the foothills of the Dakíwa range. All around them there were steep, snowcapped mountain ranges, and the valley snaked around and through them. 

“This is a really beautiful place, too. I’m just glad I was able to come.” Komorí said, chewing her lip as she admired the landscape.

Taíla stopped walking and bent down to pick something up from the ground. 

“What is that Taíla?” Lutién asked as she handed it to him.

It was a hairpiece. It had a large blue sapphire in a gold setting, with smaller blue sapphires dangling from golden chains attached to it, appearing like rain, or snow. It had a golden floral design and looked to be quite valuable.

Komorí was wide eyed. “Someone is missing that for sure.” 

“I will hold on to it for now.” Lutién slipped it into his cloak’s inner pocket. 

They walked the rest of the way talking about the classes they wanted to take and what they hoped to learn. Lutién said that he was seeking to study air magicka, and Komorí wanted to learn force magicka. The Sixth Witches were her inspiration, she said, and she wanted to study their signature spells. That would require Komorí master two cardinal magicka disciplines, and Lutién wondered if she was either a genius or simply naive. 

They approached the auditorium, a circular brick building with a facade of arches. Large windows with stained glass depictions of famous mages and their exploits were set in the walls between each arch. The college’s buildings were connected by open cloisters, and students were walking between each on their way to their classes. The style was reminiscent of the stone architecture of the second dawn, and of the early Asékén kingdoms of present-day Mírésía. 

There was an enormous green quartz crystal cluster set on a pedestal in front of the building, glowing brightly with air elemental energy. Around it was students crowding to admire it or try their luck at drawing some energy from it. Most had never seen a crystal so large. Lutién hadn’t either. Of course, he had heard the stories of the island Crystal Kingdoms and of the northern nation of Ankona, where crystals the size of houses protruded vertically from the ground as if to pierce the sky. It must be enchanting on a dark night in a field of enormous glowing crystals by the sea. Lutién was letting his romantic senses get the better of him.

They entered the auditorium through the enormous wooden gothic arch doors, which had been adorned in wrought iron in the shape of vine tendrils and leaves and pulled by chains. Embedded at the top of the doors were crystals of diverse colors, sparkling and glowing with energy, the doors depicting the aether above and Téléra below. 

Inside was a cavernous semi-circular space that had a stage at the center, far below them. All around, there were rows of padded-velvet benches, and stairs leading down to lower rows. Philosophers were seating students by numbered rank. It was dark and cool inside, a respite from the warm weather outside. 

“I’m over here!” Komorí walked down the steps. She met Lutién’s gaze and waved. “Let’s meet up after it’s over!”

Lutién waved back. His ranking was 116 out of 329 first years, and so his seat was higher up in the rows, to around the middle of the auditorium. Komorí was walking down toward the stage, so she must have had a higher ranking.

As expected of a commoner on scholarship.

The auditorium was full of students, and chatter, and everyone had mostly filed into their seats.

“We should hurry!” Lutién turned his attention to Taíla, grabbing her hand and walking around the edge of the top row. 

There was a tall slender girl with long silky black hair and tan skin here who appeared to be scanning the floors, desperately looking for something. She had an older male attendant with her, a graying man who stood at her side as she bent over to check between seats.

“Pardon me, riné-shía. What are you looking for?” Lutién asked curiously.

The girl stood up and looked at him. She had round green eyes which seemed to glint like emeralds in the light, and a vacant expression on her face. She was taller than he was, even taller than Taíla, and was willowy with an attractive face, though her emotionless expression was quite intimidating. She also had the first year’s pin on her bonnet. It was a few uncomfortable seconds before she spoke.

“I’ve lost my hairpiece,” she said quietly. 

“Can you describe it to me?”

She breathed deeply. Lutién figured she thought talking to lower nobles was a pain. Upper nobility could be like that. 

“It was a large sapphire with golden leaves, and small sapphires on a chain, like rain.”

Lutién pulled the hairpiece out of his cloak pocket and presented it to her, with two hands. Her facial expression remained stoic as she took it, then bowing deeply, quietly offered her thanks.

Her attendant went wide-eyed and looked around nervously. 

“I am Lutién, and my attendant here is Taíla. Can I ask your name?”

She stood up straight and looked at him for a moment then glanced over to her attendant.

He nodded. “I am Kíriél, and this is my attendant Nayao.”

Lutién grasped her hand and bowed, bringing it to his forehead. She gasped softly. He looked up at her face, and her expression had finally changed. The mask had broken. This gesture surprised her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Kíriél! Let us have a good year together.” 

He left her there and continued to his seat. He didn’t look back, but Taíla did and saw Kíriél watching him the whole time until he found his seat. 

The name Kíriél was foreign sounding, Atíríníl, probably. It was familiar to Taíla, though. 

It must be a common name across the continent, she thought.

After the last of the students and attendants found their seats, the welcoming ceremony began. It started with a series of speeches and dedications, and finally the student body representative gave a speech. It was made by the infamous second-year student, Fénríya, The Second Witch of the Faithful Adorant and the Witch of Desire.

When she took the stage, the whispering amongst the first years stopped, and the auditorium fell eerily silent. For all studying magicka, attending a College with a Witch was a dream come true—a story to tell later generations. Witches were someone who was an originator of the art of magicka, one of only six in existence. Their names are famous across the known world, and this Witch was only fourteen. 

But that held true for all reincarnated Witches. There were only ever six, because they lived a cycle of death and rebirth, going back millennia. And Fénríya was just the latest in an extensive line who held the title of the Second Witch. 

As she walked across the stage to the lectern, all eyes were transfixed on her. 

She was average height, but her hair was long and copper-colored with silvery strands. She had peach colored skin and bright orange irises. With her exotic appearance, she didn’t look like anyone Taíla had ever seen. Copper-colored hair was a rare trait from the people of the steppe, but silver-stranded hair, bright colored skin and orange eyes? 

Taíla thought she must be part Aíludé or Méru.

Fénríya had won so much of the bloodline lottery. She must have incredible luck. 

Taíla had to admit it, she was a bit jealous of the girl.

“She is really beautiful,” Lutién whispered to Taíla. Taíla looked away, annoyed. She knew that already.

Fénríya gave a speech that sounded like it was wrest directly from an old tome; one that was dry, dusty and formal and given by every other student body representative before her. It didn’t sound genuine at all, and Lutién found it a bit dispiriting. However, Fénríya did bend a little and included a personal anecdote at the end of her address. It was a memory from the 10th Second Witch’s tragic life dating back to 168 IY, toward the end of the Second Dawn, 528 years ago. 

It was about the opening of the first ever magicka college, and while the 10th Second Witch did not matriculate, she was a guest for a speech the 9th Third Witch gave to the first pupils. She listened as the Third spoke about the state of magicka: of theory, of practice and of dreams. 

Fénríya spoke the last three words in Atíríñíl, the original language in which they were spoken, the mere words arbitrarily uttered that have since become the imperatives of magicka academia simply because they came out of the mouth of a Witch: “nasaría, talrasé, sathaké”. 

At the end she urged the first-years to not give up on their dreams, and left them pondering the question: “At the end of your lives, will you spend the last of your time regretting what you did, or what you didn’t do?”

And then the conferral of the rings began. All mages received a ring from one of the four orders, depending on their skill. The majority of first-year students were in the alabaster order, and received a white ring carved from the stone. 

The top three ranked first-years were granted a special honor of receiving their rings in front of the student body. They also were placed in a higher-ranking order. 

The first ranking student was called. He was a tall and handsome séna’s son, brown-eyed with blond hair. He seemed to be athletic and quite popular among the girls, who were waving and calling to him as he walked across the stage. He received a blue aquamarine ring, in the aquamarine order. 

“Next, the second ranking student: Kíriél sa Loríse Mísaral Ílorísía!”

Lutién began to sweat and looked for the student who stood up. 

No, this cannot be, he thought, That Kíriél? With the surname Ílorísía?

His fears were confirmed when the tall black-haired girl from earlier walked across the stage and received her aquamarine ring. 

“Ílorisia? She’s royalty!?” Lutién loudly whispered to Taíla.

“She’s not just royalty,” Taíla replied, holding up a hand to his ear. “She’s the first nané of the Ílorisian Empire. I knew that name was familiar.”

He started to panic. 

I am surely dead.

He had made the princess bow to him so deeply and did not even attempt to stop her. He even was so presumptuous to try to charm her to elicit a reaction. 

Lutién put his head in his hands. 

I am sorry father, mother. I only lasted one day at college. Your son has brought shame to the Aíshé family. 

“The third ranked student: Komorí sa Ríanémarí!”

Lutién looked up from his despair and saw the friendly and lively girl walking across the stage with a wide grin as she received her aquamarine ring. He felt a small sense of pride. 

I knew you were an amazing person!

The rest of the students were dismissed and told they could pick up their alabaster rings on their way out of the auditorium. But first, Lutién decided that he had to set things right with the princess.

Having had her identity disclosed, Kíriél was in an aisle surrounded by first years trying to garner some favor with her. A few of the boys had taken to acting as an impromptu guard and were not letting anyone but their own friends pass. Kíriél, for her part, did not say anything. It was probably an awkward situation for her too, Lutién thought.

Nobility and especially royals couldn’t carelessly turn down a kindness done for them. There were real political implications behind every interaction that could affect one’s standing, one’s family and one’s future. It was a tangled web and Kíriél seemed to err on the side of non-intervention. 

Lutién managed to slip through and approached her once again. Seeing her now, and knowing who she was took his breath away, and he fell to one knee in front of her. Kíriél looked over at her attendant for support, and the other students around her were stunned into silence. 

In his enthusiasm to humble himself before her, it appeared to everyone present that Lutién was proposing to her. He kept his head down.

“Kíriél-shía, no, Kíriél-nané,” he said, struggling over the words and proper honorifics. “I did not know it was you earlier. I have surely wronged you and humbled you and I deeply apologize. If you ask it of me, I will withdraw from the College at once.”

What was supposed to be a formal apology was turning into a major incident. A large crowd was gathering, even more than before, to witness the spectacle of the princess receiving a marriage proposal. Komorí was amongst the spectators and wondered just when it was that he met the princess in the first place. 

“Do you not think you are still being disrespectful? You are lucky you still draw breath. You should grovel,” one of the boys said and pushed Lutién’s head down to touch the ground. Kíriél had been stone-faced before but now visibly winced.

“It’s alright.” she said finally. “It’s alright. He was not rude to me.”

She waved the boy away, and kneeled, guiding Lutién to his feet. He kept his head low.

“Can we be friendly once again?” Kíriél held out her hand. 

It was a hard question to answer. Of course, had she commanded it, he would be compelled to comply. But to declare her intentions to be friendly this way in front of the whole student body would likely make life difficult for Lutién, considering he was only the nephew of a Koson. And everyone had already misunderstood his intentions.

But he could not refuse. He knew that much about the social games. To refuse would be an insult. Although he thought that Kíriél would not see it that way, the other nobles surely would, and she would lose face. Only one thing to do. He looked up and locked eyes with her as he grasped her hand.

“As you wish, my Nané.”

She smiled that day, and the students would talk about it for years to come; The boy who proposed and the Ice Princess who could smile.

Lutién soon found himself back outside with Taíla and sat on a bench in front the railing surrounding a nearby pond. He received some jeers from the boys as they passed, but some others cheered him on.

“I think there is a misunderstanding here.” He glanced at Taíla with a worried expression.

Her lips were pursed in silent condemnation.

“Luuuutién-shié!”

Komorí was approaching them, waving and skipping spiritedly. She held up her right hand, showing off the pale blue aquamarine ring, carved from a single gemstone.

“That is amazing, Morí! I did not know you were such a skilled mage,” Lutién said.

“There is more to Miss Morí than meets the eye, Lutién-shié,” Taíla smirked, as Komorí grinned. 

“I saw her, the Second Witch,” Komorí pointed toward the direction she came. “There is a line over there to speak to her. But I saw her up close on the stage and was really scared to talk to her. Did you see how beautiful she was? And her body…” 

Komorí patted her chest. “I’m so jealous.”

Lutién nodded. “I did see her actually.” 

Taíla looked away, her jaw slightly clenched in annoyance.

Students waiting around them began whispering about the two new infamous first-year celebrities.

Lutién and Komorí turned their heads slightly at the mentions.

“Maybe we should take a walk.” Lutién stood and brushed off his breeches. 

They walked aimlessly through the quad.

“Hey Lutién…I mean, Lutién-shié.” Komorí put her index finger on her lips. “How did you learn magicka?”

Lutién smirked and looked at the girl. She was getting cheeky.

“Most noble children get tested for magicka aptitude at some point in their lives. I was able to oscillate. The only one in my family.” Lutién looked up and could faintly see the moon Sèlènè in the sky. “I am more interested in you, Morí. How does a commoner come to learn magicka?”

Komorí walked with her hands clasped behind her back. Her lips curled into a wistful smile. “Well, it starts like a lot of commoner’s stories. My family were freemen, but my father owed the city lord. I was sold to settle the debts.”

Lutién was taken aback. “As a slave?”

Komorí tilted her head in reflection. “Atè… in effect. I was contracted against my will to the city lord’s family until the end of my life.” Komorí smiled brightly, but there was absolutely no joy in her eyes.

“And so, my life started anew. It was there at the city lord’s manor that I learned I could oscillate. I’d never run into gemstones or crystals before in my previous life, but they were on the walls as lights in the manor!” She started laughing. “I thought it was so extravagant at the time!”

Taíla nodded knowingly. She had similar thoughts when she came to the koson’s estate.

Lutién was politely silent. He couldn’t relate. For him, crystal-lit fixtures were ordinary, and hardly worth a thought. 

“I’ve always liked the stories of the Witches, as I told you earlier. I reached out to a rose quartz crystal fixture and managed to accidentally set the wall on fire. The city lord told the koson, and the koson picked up my contract. I was trained for a little while, and here I am!”

Komorí spread her arms open, before clasping them behind her back again. 

“I’ll be serving the koson as a mage.”

“But you are a first-year aquamarine order. It is impressive, even for nobles. Some students complete all six years and never advance any further.” 

Lutién glanced around them. 

He realized they had been walking for a while now and that their surroundings were unfamiliar. The path they had taken curved around a hill that had a small copse of maple trees, and a two-story auxiliary building jutting out of the side. It appeared to be older than the other school buildings and had a rough stone masonry first floor, and a charred wood sided second story, with a gabled roof. 

“Where are we?” he asked aloud. 

Taíla checked the map, but the building wasn’t marked, aside from the location of the entrance and auditorium. Komorí shrugged.

“I apologize Lutién-shié; I was not paying attention.” Taíla bowed.

“Well, Íshara is over there,” Komorí pointed at the star. “So, South should be that way. We’ll eventually find an exit, right?”

“Are you first years?” It was a boy’s voice behind them. They turned and saw three students walking toward them with their attendants, two boys and a girl. 

The shorter boy was silver-haired, with pale skin and eyes that seemed to refract light like a cut gemstone. His irises were purple, with red, green and yellow flecks. His cap had the character ‘shan’ for the number three. An Aíludé third year.

The other boy was slightly taller and was raven-haired; it was long and straight and covered his ears. His face was sharp, and his expression cold. His eyes were black with irises indistinguishable from his pupils and his brow appeared to be constantly furrowed, as if the very act of breathing were a hassle. His cap had the glyph ‘mo’, for the number two. 

The girl was in between the two of them, with wavy ashy brown hair, grown long to her mid- back, with a frontal fringe cut straight across above her eyebrows. Her hair was layered and choppy, an almost wild cut that seemed to suit her. Her eyes appeared low, with irises partially obscured by her upper eyelid, and the sclera was visible below the iris. Her gaze made her look both dangerous and oddly attractive. On her cap was also the glyph ‘mo’ and the two were both second years. 

“I’m Tanjí, the president of the Arcane Research Club,” the silver-haired boy said, holding an arm out to the boy next to him, “And this is Raín.”

The raven-haired boy nodded politely.

“And this is—”

The girl stepped in front of Tanjí.

“Kírara,” she said, “But just call me Rara.”

Lutién covered his mouth with his hand, and looked over to Komorí, who had a big smile. They were both holding back laughter. 

‘Ra-ra’ was the onomatopoeia for sparkling or excitement. This rough looking girl had such a cute nickname that totally did not fit her. She looked at the two of them and sighed, shaking her head when she realized what they were thinking. 

“Pleased to meet you Rara-shía, Tanjí-shié and Raín-shié,” Komorí bowed her head. “I’m Komorí, but you can call me Morí. And this is Lutién-shié. Your name is also very cute Rara-shía.”

“Pleased to meet you both.” Tanjí smiled at Komorí. “Oh, so you’re the commoner girl who made the aquamarine order!”

Tanjí looked at both Kírara and Raín. 

“Would you two like to join the Arcane Research Club? We’d love for a celebrity like you to join, Morí. And you as well Lutién.”  

“I would like to observe what the club does before I join,” Lutién said.

Komorí nodded. “Me too.”

“It’s just in the hall over here.” 

Tanjí led the group inside the old auxiliary building. They walked through the dimly lit hallway whose aged wooden plank floors creaked with each step. They came up to a frosted glass-paneled door, with a tarnished brass plaque affixed to the wall next to it that read: Arcane Research and Advancement Society. 

“Our official name.” Raín said, opening the door.

There was a table in the center of the rectangular room, with chairs all around. Along the right wall was a waist high cabinet, with a clutter of research papers, tomes, crystals and teacups. Above were open cabinets with more of the same and other strange and occult items were on display. On the right side of the room were chalk boards with magicka formulas scribbled, and alchemical arrays drawn. There was another door that led to a small utility closet. And all along the far wall were windows, with a view into the copse of maple trees. 

“Welcome to our atelier. In this club, we research the two arcane arts, magicka and alchemy.” Tanjí pulled out his chair toward the far end of the room. 

Kírara and Raín sat at the table, and continued their studies, while Lutién and Komorí looked around at the various objects and papers on the wall.

“There’s four though,” Komorí said, correcting Tanjí as she absentmindedly thumbed a tattered scroll that was nailed to the wall. He looked up at her curiously. “Alchemy, magicka, oration and the Sekh runic-script.”

Tanjí smiled. “You’re well informed for a commoner, Morí. The College only believes there’s two worth studying. If you join, maybe we could convince them to broaden our topics of research.” 

Komorí turned to Tanjí. “Can’t you orate, Tanjí-shié?”

He shook his head. “No, to the disappointment of my ancestors. But Rara can.”

Komorí and Lutién both looked at Kírara. 

A sly grin crept across Komorí’s face. “This sounds like it’s an interesting story. Can you tell us about it, Rara-shía?”

Kírara didn’t even look up from her writing. “Maybe another time.” 

Lutién looked over her shoulder. She had various mathematical formulas and proofs written on the page. 

She was working on a spell. 

“This is the first equation of convection onset, and the third law of convection and diffusion.” He pointed to the paper. “And here you have the heat transfer coefficient and melting point of steel written. You are working on the Enflame spell, are you not?”

Kírara looked up at Lutién with a smile. “Impressive for a first year!”

Komorí came beside Lutién and glanced at the paper. “Wow, Lutién-shié, I’m surprised that you knew that! I don’t know theory at all.”

“Well,” Lutién scratched the back of his neck. “Theory is about the only thing I am really skilled at.”

“This is the right place for you then,” Tanjí said.

“Lutién-shié…” Komorí waved him over to come close. She was standing in front of the chalkboard, looking at the equations written there. He stood next to her, and she leaned over to his ear.

“What’s this equation here?” She whispered, her breath hot on his ear. Lutién could feel a strange tug in his chest. What kind of emotion was this?

“This is the extraction attenuation coefficient. You will be very familiar with it soon. It is the formula between the harmonic frequency of a crystal here,” he pointed to a chart of crystals and their harmonic frequency ranges, “and the amount of energy dispersed wastefully in the atmosphere by a mage.”

Komorí frowned. “It sounds complicated.” 

“It is not so bad. It gives you a number between zero and one. A coefficient of one is full attenuation, and a coefficient of zero is perfect efficiency with no attenuation whatsoever. It is basically the measure of how efficient you are at extraction. This mage is at 0.59. That is pretty good.”

“So, we should be aiming for zero then?” 

Tanjí spoke up. “That’s impossible. The best mages top out at 0.45. Even the Witches are at 0.07. Nobody is perfect, apparently.” He watched the two, thinking they seemed awfully close, but felt it was best to keep his mouth shut. “But that’s why we’re here doing our research. Would you like to join us?”

“I will join.” Lutién said.

Komorí smiled at Lutién. “You all seem like really great people. I’ll join too, if you’ll have me.”

“Absolutely Morí, you’ll be the club’s mascot and celebrity. We’ll show you off front and center stage at all our events!” Tanjí looked at Kírara. “And I’m sure Rara is happy now to not be the only girl.”

Kírara looked away. Though she didn’t say it, she was a little excited about the prospect of having another girl member. Raín didn’t say much but nodded. He was a man of few words. 

Lutién looked over to Taíla who was standing silently along the far wall with the other attendants. It was strange how they all seemed to blend into the surroundings when their services weren’t needed, and it was also a little unfortunate. 

Lutién didn’t mean to ignore her as if she wasn’t there and felt the sting of regret for enjoying himself without involving her as much as he did today. He looked at her and met her gaze as he walked. Approaching her, she remained silent, but looked down at him, their eyes still fixed to each other.

“Would you like to go?” he asked softly, looking up at her. 

She did. She wasn’t comfortable around nobles and didn’t like that she couldn’t understand or participate in any of the conversation. But as she looked at the other attendants and the nobles seated at the table, she didn’t know how to express that without embarrassing him. 

Lutién was kind and oddly considerate of her. She thought of the commoner Komorí, who was seemingly able to eschew tradition and speak her mind, all the while appealing to and winning over nobles far above her station.

What a frightening girl, she thought.

Taíla decided to take a chance. “Yes, Lutién-shié.”

“I’ll go too,” Komorí said.

They said their goodbyes and Lutién accompanied Komorí back through the campus and past the Wisteria Gate, with the sun hanging low in the sky. They didn’t say much along the way, enjoying the natural ambiance of the campus. In front of the gate on the cobblestone street, students were going their separate ways, each to their respective dormitory houses.

 “I’m going this way,” Komorí pointed. 

Lutién’s dorm was in the opposite direction, but he felt that same tug in his chest again at the thought of departing from her. “Shall I… walk you home?” 

She was a girl and didn’t have an attendant after all. It was the least a gentleman could do. And that’s why he was doing it, or so he told himself.

“Okay.” She nodded and smiled. 

They walked quietly, until they reached her dorm house. Stopping in front, Komorí finally broke the silence.

“Say, Lutién-shié, thank you for keeping me company today.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I know this is selfish and forward of me. I’m just a commoner and have no right associating with nobles, but I really enjoyed my time with you.”

Lutién looked at her sympathetically. “There is a social difference in position between us, but at the college we are both just students. Besides, it is my uncle’s family who are the actual nobles. I am just a relative.”

Komorí went quiet, gathering her courage. “Then… do you think we could be friends and spend time together in the future?” 

“I would like that,” Lutién took her hand in his. “Let us be friends.”

She hid her smile with her hand and nodded while blushing, then went inside, waving a final time. 

“Goodnight, Lutién-shi é!” she said, disappearing in the doorway. 

Lutién started back on his way to his dorm, walking the streets with Taíla in tow. He noticed that she seemed to dislike Komorí and wouldn’t speak whenever she was around. He knew she was a bit jealous and possessive of him. That much didn’t escape him. But what could he do for her? He thought about this the entire way back to the dormitory. 

“Hey Taíla,” he finally said, “Over dinner tonight, would you like to learn a bit about magicka theory?”

Her eyes went wide and she nodded enthusiastically, smiling for the first time that day.

Lutién thought about this eventful day and figured he would probably remember it for the rest of his life. And that feeling that he felt with Komorí… he hoped to feel it again in the future. 

He went to bed that night, counting all the coincidences that led to these fateful encounters. It left him eagerly looking forward to what the coming school year would bring; the first steps of a long and winding journey, just one tale amongst uncountable stories like a star flickering desperately in the endlessly glittering celestial oceans.