As it turned out, Jeb did not only miss a single night of sleep. Each of his family members took his deadline to heart, giving him just a brief vignette of the darker edges of the Republic. One uncle spoke of the years spent starving, begging for any scrap of food that someone would spare him. Another aunt told Jeb about the years she had spent as a sword for hire, killing anyone for a pittance. Others told even more harrowing tales. For the next three nights, Jeb lay awake, nightmares flashing through his eyes whenever he closed them.
Even with the somber tone of his visit, Jeb found it difficult to work up the motivation to begin his dance. Looking at his sister as she waved goodbye, he realized that they had not shared more than a few stolen minutes to talk between all of his family’s advice. Seeing the tears well in her eyes, he swallowed his guilt about leaving and started the teleportation Ritual. Once again, the bees swarmed around him, lending their own Magics to the dance.
A few seconds later, Jeb looked around at the site of his dormitory room. Nothing had changed in the few days that he had been gone. Despite that, the room felt colder and darker.
Jeb went to the cafeteria, hoping that a small meal might help him prepare for the upcoming term. When he looked at the stalls filled with fresh food, though, he could not forget the hunger that so many of his family had suffered. Whatever happened to the leftovers each night, Jeb was certain that they were not given to the hungry outside of the Academy walls. No longer hungry, he filled a mug with hot water and Brewed a cup of tea.
Sitting at an empty table, Jeb began to drink the hot liquid. He looked around, but realized with a start that he did not recognize anyone. Jeb’s tea grew cold as he sat around, waiting for a single familiar face.
Taking a sip of the now room temperature beverage, Jeb nearly spat it out. He had let it steep for far too long. Sighing, he poured it out and stood to leave the cafeteria. Maybe everyone will be in the Emporium? he thought, more hoping than believing.
Walking through the half-real halls of the Academy, Jeb began to sense something coming from the other end. He sped up, interest peaked by the novelty. Reaching the door to the Emporium, Jeb frowned. The sense of something greater laid behind the doorway. Suddenly nervous, he gripped the handle and pulled the door open.
“Surprise!” came a roar as Jeb stepped through the door. As he looked around, he realized that almost every person he had made a connection with during his time at the Academy was currently standing in the Emporium. The Emporium had never been that large before, and Jeb found himself wondering how, exactly, everyone had managed to fit into the space. Jeb turned the thought away as a blinding pain stabbed into his temple. Whatever was happening in the space, it was clear that Jeb was not a high enough Tier to visualize it well.
“What is this?” he asked, mind unable to construct a better sentence.
“We wanted to congratulate you on graduating!” Declan said, rushing over with a mug of something light and frothy. He handed it to Jeb, who took it.
“What?” he repeated, brain almost completely stopping.
Thankfully, Dean Aquam came over before Jeb could repeat the same word too many more times.
“Jeb, it occurs to me that you and I have never discussed your graduation requirements.” There was a glimmer in his eyes that let Jeb know the Dean had planned this event to catch him off guard. “Given that the Academy intends for students to leave the Remedial College before graduation, there are no specific graduation requirements for the college. As a result, the only methods of obtaining a degree require meeting the general Academy requirements. That is, you need to have demonstrated a theoretical or practical Magic at the level expected of a senior graduate.”
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Jeb nodded, slowly piecing together what Aquam was trying to imply. He tried to think about which project he had accomplished that was at the level of a graduate student. Nothing came to mind.
“You have no idea what he’s talking about, do you?” Margaret asked, coming over with her own mug of ale. Rolling her eyes, she continued, “Jeb, do you know what percentage of the population has access to stable teleportation?”
Jeb shook his head.
“The answer is zero, to a high number of significant figures. Those who can usually have significant restrictions on their ability. Do you understand why your Ritual might be considered something at the level of a graduate now?”
“Oh.” Jeb had no idea how to reply. His mind raced to catch up, and he finally found something to say, “I haven’t finished writing up the Ritual, though. I don’t think that someone else would be able to recreate what I did from my notes yet.”
Aquam took control of the conversation again. “I had assumed as much. After finishing your next term of courses, that will be your major assignment, at least until you are finished.”
Jeb blinked.
“I’m assigned to solely work on a single project?” he asked, hardly daring to hope that the Dean would agree.
“More or less,” Dean Aquam confirmed. “You will be expected to attend seminars relevant to your field and studies, and in time you will also be expected to give a seminar of your own. At some point, you will also need to decide what your thesis will be, but that need not be a high priority.”
“And, of course,” Margaret cut in, “all of this is a conversation for another day. For today, all you need to do is celebrate.”
She handed Jeb a mug of the same light beverage that everyone in the room seemed to be drinking. It smelled of berries, and he took a hesitant sip. Whatever the drink was, it was delicious. The scent of berries was mirrored in the flavor, which reminded him of the mornings he spent picking berries with his sister. The pop of bubbles tickled his tongue, and Jeb forgot the conversation he was having for a moment.
He looked up from his glass, remembering that he was in the middle of a party. The Dean had walked away, but others were forming a queue to come talk to him. Professor Bearson was at the front of the line, and he strode forward, gripping Jeb’s free hand in a large paw.
“Congratulations young man,” he said, low voice booming in the space. “I am certain that many Professors will be suggesting projects for you in the coming months. Do your best to avoid over committing yourself too early in your doctoral work.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Jeb said.
Bearson chuckled, “and now to be somewhat hypocritical, Therese will be completing her doctoral work in a few terms, and I will be in need of a new teaching assistant. Would you have interest in fulfilling your teaching requirements in Theoretical Enchanting?”
“That sounds great!” Jeb said excitedly. He caught himself quickly, “though I am not entirely certain that I will be able to do so.”
The Professor nodded and patted Jeb on the back. “Look at you, already learning to be political.”
He walked away, returning to the bar to refill his mug. The other Professors that Jeb had taken classes from echoed similar sentiments, advising Jeb against taking too many projects while suggesting something for him to work on. The days without sleep were beginning to weigh on him, and he did his best to start edging towards the doorway out of the Emporium. Jeb’s friends and classmates made the going slower. The party showed no signs of ending even as he opened the door to leave.
Back in his dormitory room, Jeb laid down and tried to prepare himself for the coming term. The knowledge that these courses would apparently be the last ones he would take did not help. His thoughts kept moving more and more quickly, even as his eyes grew heavier. In the battle between a mind that did not want to stop and a body that had hit its limit, his body finally won. Jeb drifted off to nightmares of everything that had happened to his family.