Following Ludwig, Lia soon found herself in the corridors of the station’s upper floor once more. The lower floor was as lively as ever. People with colorful hair walked past far below her. With her attention on the lower floor, she barely noticed Ludwig stopping and waiting for her.

She stopped entirely as she noticed a flash of light. In a corner of the lower floor, several people and a large iron chest had appeared all of a sudden. “A teleporter?” Her voice was low and the question was more to herself than to Ludwig.

“A hyperspace teleporter,” Ludwig said next to her. “There are teleport beacons on all the major planets and stations. They use a lot of mana, which is why they’re seldom used.” He turned away, mumbling to himself. “Though you could probably use it without problem …”

“Then I can go home with this?” Lia asked. It would be nice to visit her parents for a day or two.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ludwig grumbled. “Eo doesn’t have a beacon.” He shook his head, then continued, impatience reflected in his tone. “Now, come.”

Lia tore herself away from the crystal wall and walked behind Ludwig to one of the countless doors at the side. It looked exactly like the door of Mister Leda, and when they entered, even the layout of this room was similar to that of Mr. Leda. Were these his private quarters?

Compared to the living space of Mr. Leda this one looked far more sterile. Harsh lines, ninety-degree angles, and well defined places for the furniture. It reminded her far more of a tetris game than a living space. Maybe it was a small miracle that nothing had disappeared yet. Though considering that there was not a speck of dust around, something was indeed disappearing. Lia hoped that she wasn’t next. She should never have come.

“Sit down,” Ludwig ordered, and pointed on one of the chairs. He only had chairs. Not a comfortable sofa like Mr. Leda.

Lia kept standing in the corridor, ready to run, if necessary. “Why have you brought me to your room?”

Ludwig sighed, then took a seat himself. “It’s because of the incident that happened during your color test.” He frowned. “We need to repeat that.”

“Y… you want to ruin your room?”

Her comment took Ludwig off-balance for a moment, then he rubbed his temples with his hands. “I thought the principle briefed you on what happened while … we … ruined the room.” He looked at her expectantly. “The tenth color? The vision?”

“He might have mentioned that.” Lia shrugged, but didn’t move from her spot. A part of her felt relieved that he wasn’t about to misuse his authority. But then again …

“He tasked me to find a way to avoid that future,” Ludwig said and looked at her expectantly.

He was sort of using his Impero-given authority on her. “Well, good luck then,” she replied, turned around and walked toward the door.

“You know very well that I can’t do this without a donar that has the tenth color.” He raised his voice for a moment, making her stop. And then Ludwig used a word she would’ve never expected out of his mouth, regarding her: “So, please help us with this.”

Lia sighed. Somehow he had thrown her completely off. Slowly, she walked back to him and stopped at the table. She hated all this posturing that Imperi were inherently better than donar, that she once again had been delegated to being a second class citizen. So then why …

“Why don’t you order me around?” she wondered aloud. “That’s what you Imperi do, isn’t it? You … guide us to do the right thing for you. That’s what you said at the beginning of today’s class, right?”

“Miss Eo.” He sounded exasperated. “Of course we have a vested interest to guide you.” He looked her directly into the eyes. “In most cases we need to know when you’re getting too weak, so you won’t be hurt, but in your case, it is a bit different. I really don’t want to ruin the room, or, far worse, even die, because you decide once more to throw all your mana at me.”

Lia blinked a few times as she stood upright and, slowly understanding what he had actually said to her. “You’re afraid of me.”

“If you feel better believing that, then please do.”

“You know, you could’ve asked Orphelia,” she said, ignoring his remark.

“I have and-“ he trailed off. “Wait. How do you know?” He frowned, then shook his head. “No, never mind. You’re roommates for a reason. Anyways. Although she has the tenth color and a pretty substantial mana pool, her mana regeneration is less than stellar, in contrast to yours. That’s why it was decided, that we’ll rely on you from now on.”

Lia took a deep breath, exhaling very slowly. Then she took the chair opposite of Ludwig. “Very well. I’ll help you, but I am afraid, you will have to help me first.”

“Miss Eo, please don’t take advantage of this situation. The safety of the station-“

“Shut up,” she growled at him. “You’re judging me once more before you even know anything.”

Ludwig closed his eyes for a moment. “Very well, I’ll listen to your … request first.”

“Then listen closely,” she said, growling, “because I can’t tell the mana within me apart. I might be able to produce fire mana only now, but that’s it. So unless you want to burn some incense to see the future, you have to help me figure out how to tell the other colors apart.”

Ludwig stared at her for a moment, then his perpetual frown derailed and he stared at her with wide open eyes. When he buried his face in his hands next, all she could hear was an “of course this had to be even harder than anticipated.”

Lia shrugged. “Not a single lesson has focused on how to tell the colors apart, on how to split your mana into the different colors.”

“That’s because that is usually not necessary. Every donar can tell the color of their mana, by the time they’re done with the training discs. Even Miss Deimos managed, and as you recall, she has the same amount of colors as you.”

“And I didn’t have to figure this out. I just threw my mana at the discs and they worked.”

Ludwig sighed exasperatedly. “Show me,” he demanded and reached out with his hand. When she didn’t react immediately, he added a pained sounding “please?”

Lia frowned, but took the offered hand and then did the same she had done with Eclaire. When he noticed her mana brushing against his skin, he closed his eyes. It took him at most a few seconds before he picked out a certain strand.

“This one,” he said, “this one is the tenth color.”

Thanks to figuring out the first color with Eclaire, it didn’t take her too long to access and supply the time mana to Ludwig. It was strange, this one had a color reminiscent of violet, and yet it wasn’t. The taste she’d ascribe to it was … like the déjà-vu feeling of licking dust. It wasn’t the taste directly, but the memory of her having it done in the future, making it a very weird taste.

“Can you supply me with that type of mana only?” he asked, and when she nodded, he closed his eyes again.

What followed was a very strange facial theater. While Lia kept concentrating on keeping that one strand of mana isolated, Ludwig’s face changed from contemplative to horror, to resignation then determination and back to contemplative. She didn’t count, but he seemed to go through this cycle at least half a dozen times.

His hands became warm and sweaty, and his forehead glistened wetly as well. Finally he opened the eyes and pulled his hand away from hers. “That’s … enough.” He leaned back on his chair and sighed. “I went through three scenarios, twice. But closing the station off for merchants or general travel doesn’t help, canceling the field trip doesn’t change a thing and a general evacuation just … moves the problem.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Then … the problem is here already?”

“All the visions point in that direction,” he agreed and sighed. “I will have to discuss this with the principal and figure out a way forward from here.” He waved a hand at her dismissively.

Lia grumbled as she stood, pushing the chair out with her legs. “You’re a jerk,” she told him, then stormed toward the door. He didn’t say a thing and she didn’t look back at him. She felt frustrated. He was apparently afraid of what she could do, and yet he still acted as if he was superior to her. As if she was just a wild animal that he had to tame.

Frowning, she stormed off toward the cafeteria, hoping that there was still some of the dessert left, because she needed something sweet right now!

***

The cafeteria was pretty empty when Lia walked in. Most had gone here directly after class, and had left after finishing their lunch. That meant that she didn’t have to stand in line to get something to eat, and more importantly to get her dessert.

With the meal of the day adorning her tablet, and the desired dessert resting next to it, she found a seat at the donar table and began to eat. Only then did she notice that it was eerily quiet in the cafeteria, quieter than it should be, even for the few people that were still there.

The strange atmosphere made some of her anger dissipate, and when she bit on the first salad leaf, she wondered which spacecat got their tongue. The Mizaquaris leaves were a bit more crunchy than usual, having sat out of the water for a long time. Or maybe it was because it was still so very quiet.

When she started on her stew, a boy approached her. He was apparently still fighting with the spacecat over his tongue, because when he spoke, it was so quiet that she didn’t really understood what he was saying.

“What is it?” she demanded, some of her anger returning.

“Well … is it true?” he asked.

“Is what true?” She stopped eating for a moment, keeping a tight lid on her anger. He was a donar as well, and not one of those jerk Imperi.

“That you’re still here because you provide … personal favors to one of the staff.”

“Staying? Personal favors?” A cloud of confusion concealed her anger.

The boy started scratching at his chin when he continued: “Well, there are rumors that you wrecked a room on the station, you damaged training equipment, and you aren’t respecting the staff. Other donar would’ve been sent home for that. They have been, in fact …”

Lia stared at him, unsure of what to say. So her fears of being sent home had been real?

“The staff hasn’t really punished you either, and there’s the fact that you’ve been called to the vice-principal’s personal quarters …”

A shiver ran down her spine. “What are you suggesting here?” she asked, the anger slowly boiling off the cloud of confusion.

“I’m not suggesting anything. The rumor that you’re having sex with Mister van Ragd has come from the Imperi!”

Lia froze. Her brain stopped for a moment and everything turned into this blue haze, like an HTV that had crashed. How could they even entertain the thought of her climbing into bed with … with that … that … creature? That she’d sell her body just for a chance to stay at this infuriating place? “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered with a certain anger in her voice.

“It was her, wasn’t it?” she asked, fixing the boy with her anger-filled gaze. “Eclaire Centauri.” Rudehair. That girl was so lucky, that she wasn’t here right now. Lia might’ve used a lot of her reserves on those futile looks into the future, but she was sure she still had enough to overwhelm or even kill that girl!

“I don’t know,” the boy said, making a few steps backwards. “We just heard these rumors ourselves!”

Lia’s right eye twitched. Her appetite was gone, and not even the dessert was enough to quench her anger now.

She rose from her seat and returned the mostly uneaten meal to the return bin. She needed to get out of here and cool her head. “Just to make this clear,” she told the boy, “I haven’t done anything of that sort, and I won’t do anything like that ever!”

“B… but what did you do then?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.

“That’s none of your business!” She answered heatedly, then stormed off. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them of the tenth color, or the vision of a zombie outbreak; And since reality was stranger than fiction in this case, they’d believe in the fiction.

She felt like strangling Rudehair as she left the cafeteria.

***

ia wandered aimlessly through the gardens of the academy. She hit a few walls, kicked a few pillars and ran for a moment, just to get the anger out of her system. Only when the artificial sky turned a deep orange, she returned to her room.

As her head allowed other thoughts to surface, she started to wonder what she could do about these rumors. She had denied them, but that wouldn’t be enough. She didn’t have a plausible cover story at the time, and coming up with one later might only fuel the flames. The flames of her reputation burning.

Maybe Ludwig would do something? His reputation was also burning, especially since he was a teacher and she a student, an underage student.

Without any proof there was nothing actionable about this though, which could lead to him ignoring everything. And while he was an Impero, his reputation might survive slightly singed, while she … she’d be ruined, because she had to keep this stupid secret of theirs.

With that, she slammed the door to their room shut, venting some of the reappearing frustration on it.

Orphelia looked at her, startled. “Is … the cafeteria still standing?” she asked while slowly moving something out of Lia’s sight.

“Yes,” she grumbled and jumped onto her bed, grabbing the pillow there. “I’d have to grab an Impero to do that, and there wasn’t any of them close by.” She looked up from her pillow at her roommate. At the girl she was sure she could be friends with, was already friends with. “Why am I the only one hit with those rumors?”

“Probably because he never approached me openly.” Orphelia gave her a thin smile. “I guess his intention was to have it look differently than it does.”

“It backfired spectacularly.” Lia buried her face in her pillow. “I hope he takes responsibility for this.”

“That makes you sound as if you’re pregnant.” Orphelia giggled, and Lia felt her head turn a deep shade of red.

“What?”

“Just kidding,” Orphelia answered through her continuing giggles.

Lia didn’t answer her, she couldn’t. She did her best, just hiding her face in the pillow.

“Give it another week or two, and it will be forgotten,” Orphelia prohesized. “The field trip will come up, and there will be a lot of other things to talk about.”

“If you say so.” Lia climbed completely onto her bed and pulled the blanket up. With her anger completely gone now, all she wanted to do was hide until this rumor had blown past like one of the tidal storms on Eo.

The other girl sighed, and a moment later Lia could feel her on the same bed with her. Orphelia leaned against her, and whispered: “Everything will be fine. Even when the moon takes several weeks to pass through the shadow of the planet, it will emerge into the star’s light once more.”

“I know, I know,” Lia answered with a sigh. Living on one of the farming moon colonies wasn’t easy. There were long phases of darkness where they had to ration their energy. Cut-off from any news of the empire, with only a select few hours of light, there wasn’t much they could do.

“I may have something to lift your spirit.” Orphelia sounded nervous and giddy at the same time. Curiosity made Lia look up. “Just promise me that this will be our secret, okay?”

“A secret?”

“Yes, a real secret. Not like this tenth color business. Just something between me and you.”

When Lia looked at Orphelia, the girl was holding a lighter in her right hand, and a grin was plastered on her face. The green-haired girl wanted to show her something. She herself had trouble keeping it in and needed to share it. What could it be that she was fighting so much against her own nature?

“Okay,” Lia agreed.

“Perfect!” Orphelia exclaimed and twirled to her own bed, sat on the edge and held the lighter in hand. A small flame blossomed above it, a cone of orange flickering light. “And now,” her voice turned into a whisper, “watch this!”

The cone changed shape, first into a long thin pillar, then into a flatter cone. It changed between those two states for a few moments, but when the orange glow changed into that of an actual flower, Lia knew what was happening. What the big secret of her roommate was.

“Ouch!” Orphelia explaimed, and the flower dissipated into five small peaks of glowing plasma for an instant before they were gone completely. The other girl sucked at her thumb for a moment, then looked into Lia’s eyes. “So? What do you think?”

Lia still stared at what should’ve been impossible. Orphelia was a donar, too. How was she able to do this? Since when was she able to do this?

“H… how?”

“I don’t know,” the girl answered with a shrug. “Today, when we were practicing, I noticed how Peter took the strands of mana from me and wove them around the flame in order to have it take on different shapes. That’s when a thought struck me: If I can see how he’s doing it, can I replicate it? I ate lunch as quickly as possible, and then made my way here. The difficult part was to keep my mana in the form of a thin strand, but when I got the hang of this, I had no problems replicating his weaving for smaller shapes.”

Lia’s mind tried to catch-up to how casually Orphelia wasn’t just a donar anymore. She was also an Impera. But …

“But only members of the royal family are both,” she exclaimed.

“I know, I know.” The green-haired girl sighed. “But the only thing that could explain this would be my mother having an illegitimate relationship with the prince. And I know her … she’d never do anything like this behind father’s back.” She shook her head. “I can’t allow such a rumor to surface.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I see.” Lia pulled her pillow close to her again. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” Orphelia smiled, even though it didn’t reach her eyes. The girl knew that she couldn’t really celebrate her new ability. Making it public would ruin her family, and no donar would be so selfish or egotistical to risk that.

In the end, Orphelia hadn’t managed to raise her mood, but the girl - her friend - had tried. It gave her a warm feeling inside, and despite everything that had happened, a smile blossomed on her face. A real smile.