032 – Upon a Path Made Straight

Where does the desire to be made as another tug from?

* * * * * * * *

The lecture-free day following the hospital fiasco, Iago found himself dragging his way up sets of stairs to reach Professor Iya’s office.

He walked down a tinted-glass hallway lined with openings on both sides. Above each opening framed by marble was the name of each professor and their accompanying titles. When he finally reached “Elsavir Iya,” he peered into the room to find it not only empty, but also possibly the most obsessively organized office Iago could find in any room of Aideyll.

Two aisles of shelves lined themselves rectangular and clean along one side of the room, matching the white, cube identity of its space. Each book held a cover that was of the same binding, the same shape, and the same thickness; the only distinguishable difference at a glance was hue of the cover, of which the books were arranged. Covers were aged, worn from use, but the colors still remained upon each surface. On the right side stood a wall covered with notes in Aunian, with each and every hieroglyph and number etched neat like magical print on a page. The wall before Iago was fully composed of a window without frame that looked out to all of the Academy campus and reached to every edge, left to right, ceiling to floor. The cloudy autumn morning let in a grey undertone to the space in the room.

“You’re early.”

Iago turned and found Professor Iya floating into his office, beckoning him to follow. Iago did as such, stepping into an unwelcomingly spiff surrounding.

“Professor, I wanted you to know I didn’t mean what I said in lecture the other day. The threat was uncalled for, and it won’t happen again.”

“I specified that I do not arrive in my office until the beginning of the fourth autumn hour on days off.” Professor Iya said instead. He sat himself in the air and stared at Iago. “I apologize for not having chairs.”

“Oh—I don’t mind standing.”

Professor Iya blinked and frowned. “My students usually need not stay long, and I have no need for a chair myself.”

Iago nodded this time, in case he’d accidentally interrupt again.

“Well, go on. You look like you have questions. What keeps your synapses pulsing?”

Iago paused. He thought he was going to get reprimanded for his threat the other day. He thought to ask, but then also thought better of it, and considered how to start about Alea without actually mentioning Alea.

“Go on, get a move on. What is it that you need, Kylmis?”

“I—I was wondering if there was the possibility for a human to be both emittier and innatier?”

A sharp edge jabbed Iago in the back of his head. He shouted in pain, only to find a pine-green book whirling through the air to the professor.

“Kylmis,” Professor Iya addressed. The book flipped open between them, floating and shuffling among its own pages as if it were on its own accord. “I was told you were a combatant of the Academy; are you not?”

“I am,” Iago replied, rubbing the back of his head.

“Not very sharp.” The pages stopped flipping. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Iago smiled politely. The book turned around in the air and the pages faced him.

“Does this answer your question?”

Iago glanced at the pages and found it sprawled with Aunian. Shot with embarrassment, he wondered if he would have to stand there and slowly make out each word just to get through the page, or if he should say outright that, truth be told, he had not been practicing the language.

“Sorry to ask this of you, but would you happen to have the Aideylli version?” he asked sheepishly, ending with a chuckle.

“Look behind you, Kylmis. Every book on these shelves is a text rewritten by me, Aideylli back to Aunian. Is your muse not talent physiology? Aunian is one of your Ascension Exams, given your muse.”

Iago simply nodded. He understood, now, why every book on the shelf stood nearly identical to each other. If he also had the kinetic ability to dictate the movement of every molecule without actually expending physical energy, he would also keep his room as clean as this. Not even dust could find refuge in this room, he was sure of it.

Professor Iya raise a brow. “I suppose it is acceptable for a second-year to not be completely fluent in Aunian,” he muttered, as if talking to himself, and then met Iago’s eyes before continuing with, “You know what is excellent practice for grasping this amazing language, Kylmis?”

“… What, Professor?”

“Rewriting all your Aideylli readings in Aunian.”

If Professor Iya had not said that with such a straight face, Iago would have laughed. Instead, Professor Iya smiled at him with his violet eyes behind his copper rims and flew the book back onto the shelf, fitted nicely between a dark green and an evergreen cover.

“I’d rather not take too much of your time,” Iago said, trying to ease the subject back. “I know you’re busy, researching and all—”

“Oh, this?” Professor Iya asked, looking over to the wall covered with diagrams and Aunian labels. “This is a just a little sketch for fun. I was reviewing a proof I had assisted with a while ago, is all.” He turned to Iago. “How much do you know about talent taxonomy? That is a second-year requirement. Have you finished the lectures already?”

“Not yet,” Iago responded. “I suppose I’ll receive that lecture from the Ashenborn come my winter excursion.”

Professor Iya nodded in understanding. “I’ll simplify it for you, then. Any being with a potential to hold a human body is considered a human being. Most are given a human body at birth, but some breeds have the ability to morph into human bodies even when that is not their original form.”

A pause. Professor Iya blinked, as if in some private thought, though Iago couldn’t make anything of it. “This proof, in fact, answers the question you had just asked a moment ago. A majority of humans are not both emittier and innatier because they simply don’t have enough talent capacity.”

A majority.

“So…” Iago started. “Some are?”

Professor Iya nodded. “Of course.”

“And how much of the body would have to be talented to have that capacity? To hold both forms of talent?”

“Any amount greater than zero would suffice.”

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Iago raised a brow. “Every talented human has at least that much.”

“Of course.”

Iago waited for something more, but only silence continued between them.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t understand.”

“Good, good.” Professor Iya nodded with a soft smile. “It is good practice, Kylmis, to be honest about the limits of your intelligence.”

“… thank you?”

“Of course.” Professor Iya turned to the wall again. “It is simply a question of sustainability. An emittier’s talents channel energy into any item, any creature, and any substance that is not already made of pure talented elements—but, that talent is expelled over time and does not last.”

A chalk lifted up and made new markings on the wall.

“Now, in theory, any human has the possibility of being both an emittier and an innatier, but given the genetic identity of the body, one type of talent would consistently be expelled. This makes the possibility extremely unlikely. The natural cell has a low chance of tolerance to both, and under such laws of physics and organic chemistry, if the body of the cell cannot learn to expel the unfamiliar talent like poison, it becomes clogged from the excessive density of talented elements and dies.”

“It is determined at birth,” Iago said, starting to catch on, “so there are beings that do hold the capability to be both.”

“But of course!”

Iago refrained from groaning. Szak would have had a fit by now.

“What creatures hold the capability, Professor? If you don’t mind, could you name a couple so that I may research them on my own time?”

“Oh anything you’d like to know, I’d rather tell you,” Professor Iya remarked. “Better answer your questions now so you have time to practice Aunian. There are a number of creatures in the Province of Free Spirits, but the most commonly known creature that holds both capabilities is the family of dragons.”

“Dragons?” Iago repeated. Does Szak know about this?

“But of course! Their emittier talent is dependent on the breed, but they hold innatier talent, as well. Dragons are bound by a member of the Drakonskar clan and share minds, after all.”

“So mind reading is an innate ability.”

“It has been categorized as innatier for what we have studied so far, yes.”

So Alea is both. From birth.

“Interestingly enough—” Professor Iya stopped and looked up to the door. Iago turned and found a group a water sprite, a werewolf, and a chimera, entering his office. “Hello, hello. Please wait outside. I assume your questions actually pertain to class?”

The scholars nodded and traded glances with each other.

“One moment, please. I’m explaining something to Kylmis at the moment.”

The three heads nodded in understanding as they walked back out, talking amongst themselves. Iago saw a thin layer of air rise. It was familiar to what his own force fields made and he looked over at Professor Iya, who smiled, as if impressed.

“Good eye. Of course, I would not expect anything less. Yes, I have made the opening sound-proof for the moment. I’m sure that feat is also easy for someone like you.”

Iago was bewildered at the comment. “Not really. I just steal energy and move it elsewhere.”

Professor Iya laughed, and the graphite pen floated up and down with him. “Kylmis, how does sound move, if not with energy?” A sigh. “So, yes. To answer your question, there are some humans that are both innatier and emittier. Much easier for nonhumans to be both classes, for some odd reason. One of the many projects I’ve been working on, as of late. There aren’t many like you. But still, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, either way. So long as you keep yourself healthy, there should be no problems with your body.”

“… I’m sorry. What?”

Professor Iya blinked. “I assumed that you wanted to ask about if it’s possible to be both to understand yourself better.” He floated away from the wall as he faced Iago. “This is certainly not a topic that is in the scope of our class, although it is my forte.”

Iago’s mind searched for something to ground its thoughts upon. He felt as if he were hovering, floating somewhere, just like Professor Iya.

“Your clan is quite exceptional in this respect. Kylmis?”

“Professor, I think there may be a misunderstanding?” Iago muttered.

Professor Iya smiled and hovered over to the furthest aisle between two book shelves. “Why are you here, Kylmis?” He lifted himself up to the highest shelf and searched for a book he did not remember of what color he had coded its contents.

“You had told me to come by on—”

“Why are you here, in the Academy?” A scathingly neon shade of vermillion was pulled out and forced open. Pages tossed itself from one cover to the other as he waited for Iago to respond.

“For my muse, of course.”

“And what do you intend to do with your studies in talented physiology?” The vermillion book skipped back into place, and Professor Iya shifted himself over to the second top shelf on the other side of the aisle. “As much as I enjoy the biological aspects of Intermagical Studies, it has nothing to do with being a combatant. Are you to be deployed to the Edge, or go into research upon graduation?” Professor Iya popped his head out from the side of the bookcase and looked at Iago in the eyes. “Surely, you weren’t set on going back home, were you?”

“I’m not sure.”

It was an honest answer. If Iago could, he’d follow Eulylia across the Edge—but there was no point in signing up to be deployed. No one is able to choose their post, and there was no point in enlisting if he could not be beside her.

“Research, I suppose?” Iago added after the pause.

“Research in what?” Professor Iya’s question came out more like a statement. He placed a dirt-yellow book back into place and turned around to the outermost aisle, facing the books of green once more as he continued. “I would hope it’s not for something as petty as turning off your perisynthesis longer than you already are.”

Iago kept silent.

“Kylmis,” he said, finally finding the book he wanted and hovered over to Iago, circling him with a teal covered book floating nearby. “Did you think I wouldn’t have noticed your lack of aura in my room? You shut it off the moment you heard me speak behind you.”

The teal book hovered before Iago, as if a gesture for him to take it. Iago looked up at him, unsure if it was a gift, or an extra assignment.

“This book is the reason I told you to come visit my office. I have the Aideyllian version of this text at home,” Professor Iya explained. “Translating things to Aunian is a hobby of mine. Take it.”

Iago grabbed the book. Once he did, gravity returned to its body and he felt the book’s weight pull his hand down. The cover held no words. No title, no author, nothing but teal. He looked back up at Professor Iya, expecting him to explain what the book entailed.

“It would be good practice for you, reading Aunian.”

“Professor. I’m not sure what to say…”

“I’m not expecting you to say anything to me,” Professor Iya said, floating over to look out the glass window. The winds ruffled the grass upon the hill on which their building stood, and the clouds hesitantly swayed with them, moving across the sky, imitating large crowds of fat, grey sheep. “I only expect you to change your attitude.”

Iago tightened his grip on the book.

Professor Iya heard him surrender an exhale and turned to him, in earnest. “It is not theft.”

Iago blinked. This was the first time he had heard of anyone thinking this way. To be a Kylmis was to be a thief. A leech that could only steal, kill, or destroy another life. There was no other way for survival—something also determined by birth.

“Given the social demands in your province, it is no doubt hard to accept my statement about the nature of your talents.” Professor Iya looked over at Iago, who now held a face so solemn, a flick upon the surface would have cracked his skin open and ripped him apart. “I can teach you of ways to control your energy.”

Iago held his breath. Looked up. “You know of how to get rid of this?”

“My naïve boy, no.” Professor Iya shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Are you saying you want to be natural? You cannot.” He hovered to Iago in serious composure.

“Why not? That’s why I’m here,” Iago pressed. “To give people choice—to find a way to relieve humans of their unwanted talents.”

“You mean to relieve yourself of your own talent,” Professor Iya corrected.

Iago stopped stiff.

“You cannot. Not only would the research you are suggesting require the study of human bodies, banned unless given permission by Anya, your own body cannot survive through such an experiment. You will learn by the time you graduate in your studies. A Kylmis body is both emittier and innatier, and is roughly seventy-four and thirteen hundredths percent composed of talented energy. You will die if all of your talent is taken away from you.”

Iago let out a breath. Soft. And slow.

“Your clan is a special circumstance: talent endowed by environment, and not by personal blessing from the Ashenborn. It is for the exact reason that you would die, that your body came with the properties of constant perisynthesis. At least, it should be constant.”

Iago swallowed. No. It shouldn’t be.

“That book,” Professor Iya said, gesturing at the teal book in Iago’s hands, “is your first assignment with me. As Research Apprentice here at the Academy.”

“Professor…”

“Tell me, Kylmis. What happens to a flower when it stops undergoing photosynthesis?”

Iago did not want to answer. He already knew where this was heading; yet, he felt complied to, for he had just been given such an exceptional position under one of the best direct disciples in Aideyll. He would be an idiot to refuse such an honor.

“It dies,” Iago muttered.

Professor Iya smiled with a slight nod. The sound barrier dissipated. “I’ll be expecting you again, soon.” He gestured toward the door.

The three classmates that had been waiting patiently outside stepped in as Iago invited himself out. Beside him held a line of scholars waiting for their turn to speak with Professor Iya—the same professor that had just given him the highest possible position of an Academy scholar. He was only one step down from being a direct disciple of an Ashenborn.

He looked down at the teal cover in his hands, unsure if this was supposed to be hope in a new direction, or a dead end for his dreams.