I had never seen such a sight in my entire life and I felt my breath catch as I stepped out of the tram and into a new world. The slums would be dark and freezing, but up on the second tier, the sun was out and warmed my back and shoulders as I walked to the edge of the platform. It stood above most of the buildings and I looked out across them and how they cut the horizon.
In the slums, buildings were patchworks, built upon each other over the years with little to no plan. This city had been planned down to the well trimmed edges of cobblestone roads that wound into the distance. Trees littered patches of faded green grass, most still had their leaves and looked nothing like the sickly things that grew where ever they found purchase in the slums. It felt like looking at a picture book, a dream of when ground could easily be found and built on. For the first time I realized how very different those in the upper tiers lived.
“It’s strange, ain’t it?” Brandi asked as she leaned on the rail beside me. Her narrowed gaze shifted across the city and a frown curved her lips. “I’ve only been here once, but I thought it was a disgusting display then. Guess not much changes.”
“I think it’s kinda… I don’t know, beautiful? Wish I grew up here.”
“Everyone does.” She pushed from the rail and walked off toward the group. Her coldness was not something I had really experienced before, but I knew it wasn’t just me that put her in such a sour mood. It seemed she really didn’t like the idea of having to be in the upper tiers.
“New bloods, to the front,” a deep female voice called from the archway at the other end of the platform. She stood with four other women, all dressed in dark orange robes. The one who spoke looked much older than the rest, her hair grey and wrinkles played across the skin of her face and neck. Those behind her looked less than pleased to be out in the chill and each of them looked to the group of students with poorly hidden dislike. “Those that are returning, head to the Academy and get yourselves settled. New bloods, follow us.”
I found a group of girls that still wore normal clothes and filed into the line. I use the word normal loosely as they were such a mash of quality and style that they seemed to come from different time periods. The girls separated farther into little patches of well tailored skirts and jackets and torn and worn slacks and shirts.
It took a bit of looking about to find another male among the group. There were two that I could make out and neither looked like they’d ever caught a glimpse of the slums.
The first of the two dressed as slick as any other, a jacket of white and black that hadn’t so much as seen a bit of dirt. He stood in the center of one of the clusters, the girls around him all staring or throwing glances his way that hid little of what they wanted from him. He played it off, ignoring them more than anything. His orange hair was styled and held it even in the brisk wind and when he laughed it sounded like something a cheap toy would make. There was little genuine about him from what I could see.
The other looked like an on sale version of the first. He walked in a timid way, his lanky body bent forward and his steps uneasy on the disjointed sett and cobble. His long brown hair laid disheveled on his head and stuck up at odd angles like he’d never met a comb in his life. No girls were near them, though many glanced in passing, a merchant’s look on their faces. He seemed almost as if he wished to be anywhere else.
No girls paid me any attention that I could tell, and in fact it wasn’t hard to notice that everyone seemed to be doing their best to stay away. Groups chatted and laughed all around me, but I felt like I stood in a box and could only look on as they passed. It felt strange to go from being so well known among those in the slums, the smart kid of the dead abyss mappers. Here, all my reading and exploring meant less than nothing. Just a slum kid among those of the upper tiers. I began to understand Brandi more.
The group of us came to a set of steps and at the top stood a sight that caused us all to stop and stare in awe. The main building of the academy stood as a gleaming monstrosity in the fall sun. A building made of a cube of white concrete, it towered over everything around it. Few windows marred its front face which left room for the grand entrance way of receding arches that ended at a pair of large orange doors.
A path of the same white concrete split the large courtyard area of green grass. Statues and flags also dotted the area with trees running in long lines on the edges of the grass and provided shade for those already in uniforms to sit under. The groups all stopped what they were doing as we entered and turned to us as we entered. To my surprise, many of their gazes found me among the others. The feeling of so many eyes on me could only be compared to the market days in the slums when recently slaughtered cattle were brought out to be bid on. I tried to shake the feeling, but as we headed down the curved path that wound its way across the grounds, the feeling only grew.
We were led up the steps and into the foyer which stood as grand as the outside. More white stone in the shape of pillars with arched ceilings and skylights that seemed far too bright took the attention of everyone, including me. One of the robed women gave a sharp whistle and we were turned toward an alcove that could have fit six or seven slum homes. The shoes of the higher tier girls clacked across the tile as the group of us followed the robed women toward the end of the room.
“Welcome to the Orange Academy, new bloods. I am Stewardess Mildred and I serve as headmaster of this establishment while we are between headmasters. As such, it has fallen to me and my subordinates to guide you for the first few hours of your time here. We have many rules that are to be followed in spirit and in letter. Breakage of these rules could result in the removal from this institution no matter your station or power. These rules will be explained to you in time. For now, males, please follow Miss Lintz to the other room.” The older woman motioned to her right toward an archway with a dark painted door in it. The robed woman from the tent stood before it and when our eyes met she smiled bright and reached behind her to open the door. The dark room on the other side looked like it had been covered in ink and she moved to stand beside the opening.
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The guy with the orange hair was the first of us to move. He broke away from his group of girls and left behind longing and pained faces. He gave the robed woman a slight nod as he stepped into the darkness. I followed next as I could feel eyes on me and wanted to be anywhere else. As I crossed the hall to the door, the woman beside it caught my gaze and grinned. “You’re in for a rough ride, my dear.”
I paused before going through, wanting to say something, but there were now two others behind me and so I moved on. A gloom hung in the air like a curtain and to my surprise I came out on the other side of it to find a room lit by floor to ceiling windows. A large wooden table ran the length of the room, chairs of simple design scatted about like they had been dropped there. On the wall opposite of me was a sight that actually made me salivate. There were shelves upon shelves lining the wall with books of leather backing which meant they were written before the Cabal started to censor what could be put down on a page.
“No drooling on the books, Aidan,” the robed woman said as she came into the room and swept past me. She went to the table and lean back against. With a heavy sigh she pulled on the clasp that held the robe around her shoulders and shrugged a bit out of it. It slipped open down the middle to show a black jacket and white blouse. A shorter skirt than what the students wore laid flat against her black leggin covered thighs. The white blouse struggled against a pair of large breasts that put most others I’d seen to shame. I was never much one to best interested in a woman’s chest, but the robe really did her a disservice.
She ran her hands through her silver hair and shook it out so that it laid across her shoulders and out of her face. Her gaze traveled over us, a whisper of a smile on her lips as she knew where we all were looking. She had put herself on display for a purpose. “Everything all right, boys?”
No one said anything and she pouted which threw me. She looked far too young when she did it. She pushed from the table and slipped out of her robe which draped over a chair. “So, four of you. That’s more than we’ve had at one time.”
I looked around the room. The two I had seen before stood on the far side of the room, almost as if they feared getting sick from us lower born. When I found the fourth a shock came over me as Jorge stood behind me. He grinned ear to ear.
“Hey bud,” he said in a loud whisper and then gave me a thumbs up. “We made it.”
“Yes, you all made it,” the woman said. “If that’s a good thing or not will probably resolve itself in due time. I am Lorelei Lintz. I’m the first teacher you will have here at the Orange Academy and will be your advisor for the rest of the year.” She pulled a chair from the table and sat down heavily, her movements purposeful as she slowly crossed her legs and leaned forward so that she could rest her elbow on her thigh and her chin in her hand. The roundness of her breasts when pressed against her arm and the few buttons undone on her blouse to show off her bra seemed calculated.
“I’m sure you all took notice that you are well outnumbered here. As young men you may consider this a dream come true, a fantasy fulfilled if you will. Some of you,” she turned her silver eyes to look at the orange haired student, “have already found a following and are taking advantage of the limited supply of men here on campus. That’s a very dangerous game to play, but you will all have to learn the best way to navigate this place, all I can do it point you in the right directions.”
“What do you mean by that?” the orange haired boy asked.
“Victor Randson, right?” Lorelei said and lifted her head from her hand so she could face him. “Your father never told you any stories of his time here?”
“He told me a lot of things,” Victor said, his mouth turning down in a frown. “What would you know of him?”
“Your father? Oh, I know him very well. Intimately you might say.” She gave a sing-song laugh. “He was a good seeder to start with, but was desperate for girls at times and I took pity on him. I’m glad to see you’ve already fared better.”
“You lying—” Victor began, but it was like his voice just gave out. It took a second, but I noticed a curling blue line traveled from his Adam’s apple and to Lorelei’s index finger.
“You’ll learn something about me very quickly, Mr. Randson. I love to play games and I tell no lies.” She twirled her finger and the blue strand snapped. Victor broke out into a heavy cough. “I also don’t take kindly to insults. There is no turning the other cheek with me.”
I looked around at the others and they all had the same look of shock and surprise. Gone was the kind atmosphere that once laid in the room and one of fear replaced it. I looked at Lorelei’s fingers as if each one was a weapon in its own right.
Her gaze turned to the rest of us until it fell on me and her face softened. “Ah, the boy with the fire. You seem like you’re the smartest one here. I know you’ve consumed every book that the slums had access to, most which you stole. Do you know much about this place? About how magic works?”
My mouth felt dry and I swallowed against it as I gave a slight nod. “Uh, from what I remember reading the Orange Academy started about two hundred years ago to train mages and witches. They then go on and help clear the abyss and the ruins within.”
“Good memory,” she said and smiled brightly. I hated that it caused a heat to burn across my chest. “You are correct, of course. Witches and mages are used to continue the exploration of our section of the abyss, but they are also used in battles with other cities if it comes to that. Also, they’re used to kill any S class monsters that appear in any of the abysses in our local cluster.” She stood and went to the shelves of books. “How about the nature of magic? Anyone beside Aidan?” She looked back when no one spoke up and gave us a disapproving look. “It seems you all will have a tough time in history class. Aidan?”
“I—I only know what I’ve been able to read in the few older books I’ve found. The Cabal has removed most manuals on magic from the lower tiers…”
Lorelei nodded as she turned and ran her finger along the spines of a few books. “Tell us what you know.”
I racked my brain, trying to put years of scattered reading into something I could talk about. “Magic is fickle… it started when—”
Lorelei cleared her throat and shook her head. “I don’t want the history, the others will learn that later. I want the practical. The interactions of mage and witch.”
“Uh… well, a witch needs a mage to be able to use her magic to its full potential. The mage has magic of his own, but it’s only of the support kind while the witch’s can run the gamut of types, from dark or light, to elemental.”
Lorelei dropped a book to the table in a cloud of dust and I fell silent. “Still too abstract. How does the mage help the witch?”
“I—I’m not sure. There were a lot of mentions of the mage being the seeder… the mage seeds the witch’s magic so that she is able to use it as she wishes.” I looked back at the other three. They all were watching and waiting for me to continue. “None of the books went into detail about what that is, but I assume its—”
“Its sex.”