Lia had begun to pace - not that there was much room to. Still, Ludwig had left a long time ago, leaving her staring at the devastation she had somehow caused. But how could that be? From what they said, she shouldn’t be able to do anything. She was just a battery ... right? That would mean that he had to have lost control. Right? It was him, not her.
Despite her assurances to herself, she was nervous. Her skin felt cold and sweaty. She was involved in this incident. Somehow. Some way. Because of that they could simply decide that she was too dangerous and send her home. Then her family had to pay all the fees involved. And the costs to restore the room. And ... her heart skipped a beat. Maybe even more than just the room was cracked? That would instantly ruin her family! Instead of being useful and helping them, she had spelled doom for her mother and father. Maybe he had been right, and she should have returned with him. Back home to the moon. To the fields. Following the old routine. Just getting up in the morning, look after the crops, then maybe catch an hour of HTV or read a book, and go to sleep.
She caught herself gnawing on her thumb. Her mother usually scolded her for that habit, and then leaned into her in order to have her tell what she had done wrong. Or what she was concerned about. But her mother wasn’t here. She had to deal with her anxiety, as well as her loneliness, alone. Somehow. Tears started to well up and while she tried to fight them down, there was this longing to be back with her parents, her family. Have them deal with the chaos.
Great. She felt homesick on her first day already. That had to be a record.
She took a deep breath. What had her mother always told her in these moments? “Never show tears. Never. Show. Weakness. Both will empower those who look down on you.” It was easier said than done, but she tried to get her feelings back under control.
“Never show tears,” she whispered to herself and used her sleeve to dab the wet spots from her cheeks. She could do at least that much. “Never show weakness,” she murmured, but neither the uneasiness nor the nervousness took the clue to vanish. Instead she started to feel light-headed. Sitting back down, she wished that they’d at least come and tell her. This very moment! Then at least these feelings would be over. Why did they make her wait this long?
Finally the door opened and the principal stepped into the room. The principal! This was serious. This was worse than she thought! She saw his cold calculating eyes looking down at her, then dart away to follow the cracks. A frown joined the gaze and she felt as if the room had become several degrees colder.
“I... I didn’t mean to,” she tried to defend herself. He raised a hand and Lia fell silent. She was once again occupied with fighting against her tears.
“I know,” he said after a moment and slowly sat down on the other chair. Then a smile appeared on his lips. The one she had seen while he had greeted them.
“Y... you know?” she squeaked out.
“Accidents happen,” he told her in his friendly voice. “Far more often than you think. Providing mana in a steady flow is a skill in itself, one that is not easily learned.”
“I ... I didn’t know.”
“You are here to learn after all,” he reiterated, then leaned forward, toward her. “And from what Ludwig has told me, as well as from what I can see, it is pretty important that you do.”
She could only nod in answer. “So ... I can stay?” she asked after a moment.
“Of course,” he answered and a strong wave of relief washed over her.
“You may not realize it, but you are an important asset. Not every Donar has all the colors of Mana we need.”
“C... colors of mana?”
He nodded once, then launched into an explanation: “There are officially nine elements. You can imagine them stacked upon one another, like a pyramid. The most common ones are at the bottom and the higher up you go, the rarer the talent for using them is. Each element responds best to a certain color of mana and that mana is distributed among the Donars in that same pyramid scheme.”
“And you’re saying I have all nine colors?”
“No,” he said and took a deep breath. “And this is important for you to know.” The smile dropped from his face and his eyes bored into her. “What I am telling you now has to stay a secret between you, Ludwig and me.” His voice, and his gaze seemed to become even more intense. “Do you understand?”
Lia gulped, feeling intimidated. All she could do was nod slightly.
“Give me your word,” he demanded. “Say that you won’t tell anyone about what I am going to tell you now.”
“I ... I won’t tell anyone,” she said and after a moment added a “sir.”
“Good,” he said and leaned back on his chair. Sighing he began to rub his temples with the fingers of one hand. “You two really put us into a bind,” he murmured. He lowered his hand, and fixated her, before slowly explaining: “You have access to all ten colors.”
“All ten colors?” Already she felt dumb again.
“You do know the nine standard elements, correct?” he asked, and Lia nodded.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Metal, Wood, Moon, Light and Dark,” she answered.
“That’s ... simplified,” the Principal said, taking a deep breath, “but it will do. The tenth element governs all the others and is connected to them. The tenth element, the tenth color ... is Time.”
Lia stared at him, her eyes widening with every second that passed. That ... there were so many stories about time travelers. Could she-
The principal held up a hand, stopping her thoughts. “Don’t get the wrong idea. That element doesn’t allow for travel through time. Neither past nor future. It is limited to one thing, and one thing only: It allows us to take glimpses into the future. To predict events that are yet to come.”
“Oh ... so ... just fortune tellers,” Lia said, feeling a bit disappointed. “Why is it kept a secret?”
“To be able to accurately foretell the future, and that frequently, is a far more valuable skill than you think. A skilled Impero can use this ability to determine the best actions to take in order to reach a certain outcome. It can easily change the course of history, like the outcome of wars.”
“I... is that why the empire has prospered the last two hundred years?” History books alleged that normally things went south roughly fifty to eighty years after the end of a war.
“In part. An Impero with access to the tenth element can use other mana to glimpse into the future as well, but it is a lengthy and unreliable procedure. Lady Sagittarius has to sit down with ten already rare Donars to be able to do what Ludwig just did with your help.”
“Ruin the room?” Lia asked, half to make a joke, half to downplay the importance he was shoving on to her.
“That ... was because you overwhelmed him,” he smiled. “Though, I think it was something he desperately needed.” The principal chuckled slightly. “While he was trying to dissipate all the mana you’ve shoved on him, he had a glimpse of the future.”
Lia gulped, nervousness settling into her gut again. It was a pesky visitor today. “W... what did he see?”
“Something deeply concerning,” the principal was frowning again. So she was not the only one with a repeat visit from some kind of feeling. “How did he put it? ‘It was like a zombie-outbreak amongst the station’s Donars. Only that these zombies all could use magic on their own, and tried to overrun the transporter stations.’”
“Z... zombies are not real. He probably had a bad dream, or something.”
“That was his first thought as well,” the Principal answered, then slumped forward. “One Foretelling is unreliable, after all. And yet ... he had that same vision ... twice.”
“Twice?”
“Yes, there is another one in this year that has access the tenth color,” he shook his head. “And that gives this vision a high probability of coming true, as ridiculous as it sounds.”
“W... who is the other one?” Lia felt curious, and knowing someone else was in the same position as her, would at least take some weight of her burden to keep this secret.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you,” the principal answered.
“I ... see,” she felt disappointed.
“Furthermore, we need you to keep most of your colors hidden. Showing three or four will be fine, but any more and it will lead to ... problems.”
“Problems?” She felt as if her head was swimming in Eo’s biggest swamp.
“We’ll discuss those later,” the Principal said. He took a tablet out of his robes. It was a crystalline slate that looked similar to the one Ludwig had greeted her with. “Let’s see. I’ll put you down for Plasma, Gases, Spirit and Gravity.”
“What?”
“In your terms: Fire, Air, Moon and Dark.” Lia blinked a few more times. She still wasn’t sure what the one thing had to do with the other, and her head didn’t feel at all inclined to make the connection. Or any connection. “You’ll learn the specifics in class,” he said and stored the tablet back in his robes. “Now, how are you feeling?”
“Somewhat relieved, though also confused and lightheaded”, she said and tried giving him a smile. At least the immediate danger of ruining her family had vanished.
“Do you think you can spare a bit more of your tenth Mana?” he asked, and almost leaned into her. Personal space seemed to be a foreign concept for him right at that moment.
“I ... I guess so?” Why could he smile friendly at one moment, and intimidate her this much in the next?
“Good,” he said and reached out with his hand. “Then please put your hand into mine ... and then concentrate on just giving me some of your tenth mana.”
Lia slowly laid her hand in his. It was far lager than hers. It was rough and warm, and reminded her of her father. Allowing her homesickness to rear its head again.
She tried banishing the feeling, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath ... and after a moment ... she asked: “How do I do that?” She opened her eyes and looked at the principal.
“Try ... to do the same you did with Ludwig,” he suggested. “You just need to hold the colors back that don’t feel like time for you,” he added.
That just confused her more, and Lia simply stared him for a few long seconds. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m not even frustrated enough to do what I did with him.”
“I ... I see,” he said, the smile vanishing, and he looked at her like a disappointed child that had been refused their favorite toy. “Then let’s try this another time,” he proposed and pulled his hand away. “Take your things, I’ll show you to the dorms.” The principal got up and started to leave the room.
Lia quickly grabbed her bag and followed him. He led her through several corridors until they emerged in some type of courtyard. A blue sky with wisps of white clouds above illuminated the place, giving the illusion they were on some kind of planet instead of out in the cold of space. They passed a fountain in the form or a round sphere in the center. It spun clockwise by spewing two jets of crystal clear water into a round basin below. A bit further away were four beds of flowers, each bed had a flower that bloomed only in a single color. Blues, reds, yellows and whites. They followed the path to the left, between the yellow and white flowers and arrived at a large building. Lia stared, and suddenly realized that they had build a building ... into a large empty space ... on a space station. Or was all of this just an illusion? For some reason they really were trying hard to give the impression that they were on a tranquil estate somewhere on a nice planet.
“This is the Selena dorm, the place where Donars sleep”, he explained. “We keep the two groups separated as much as possible until both have enough experience and control to be trusted with living together. Then they move from the Selena and Astron dorms to the Gemini ones.” The principal opened the door and held it open for her. She quickly slipped through and almost stopped to stare.
The interior had the same crystalline polish as most parts of the station. Everything looked as if it was encased in marble and thin lines of golden or platinum metal ran through it, forming similar patterns. A long corridor was before her with doors to the left and right of it. Although the novelty of the look should have long since passed, Lia found herself staring, before beginning to wish for some kind of color. Just a few different shades of gray would get boring very quickly.
A door suddenly opened at the end of the corridor and a familiar green-haired girl looked out of the room and straight at her.
“Ah, good timing,” the principal said. “Miss Deimos will be your roommate.”