“And, how is your room?” Prisha asked him when Micah joined her in the crowd outside.

Ryan met up with his parents and they talked about much the same, since Noelle and his sister hadn’t come along. The five of them had spent too long getting to the campus from Westhill and hadn’t been sure they would find the rooms right away, so they’d split up. They sat down in the cafeteria. David, Ryan, and he had gone to look for their rooms.

Micah suspected it had also been to give them some privacy.

There were eighty or so odd people gathered in the half-shade behind the administrative building, some with loose luggage like his backpack. That meant there were only thirty or so actual students among the crowd. Most were family.

Micah stretched up to look for people he knew, but couldn’t find anyone. Alex wasn’t here, Anne neither, and Shala and his friend were apparently rich. Of course, they wouldn’t be here. They probably had their sh— stuff together and gone to the Open House a few months ago.

This tour, one of many, was for stragglers, then.

Lisa only tagged along because she had nothing better to do. She stood a little off to the side and looked bored. It made Micah wonder if she would ever get bored with them as a whole. Ryan had just taken a huge leap forward with his new aura, but Micah, at least, wasn’t quite on her level. Both figuratively and literally.

“It’s okay,” he admitted, facing his sister. “I’m sharing it with three others.”

“Bunk beds?”

He shook his head.

A smile. “Lucky you.”

It was at times like these that he remembered Prisha had also gone to school when she was Ryan’s age. She probably understood what he was feeling more than he thought, not that showed in her behavior.

“What else?” she nagged him. “Come on, tell me.”

He shrugged. What else was there to say? “It’s a dorm room. There’s a desk with a chair, a wardrobe, and one full-sized mirror for the four of us. I have a bed in the back right next to the window. I haven’t met my roommates yet because no one was there.”

“Hm. You’ll get to meet them this evening, probably.”

This evening. Because Micah was going to have to sleep here. A part of him wanted to stay at Ryan’s place for another night. Or maybe the entire weekend. He still had to get his alchemy chest and school only started on Monday, after all. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Everybody would be here over the weekend, hanging out, getting to know one another, and he would be the coward who had stayed at home. Plus, what would his friends think?

“Are you guys in the same area, at least?”

“About. Ryan is in a different building, but close. I’m three down from the exit. I just need to walk down the hall, cross the bridge, go down the staircase, take a left and then the second door on the right to get to his place. He doesn’t have windows, though. I don’t think we’re going to hang out much in our rooms.”

“Hang out in the library,” she joked. “It’ll help you study.”

Micah had done enough of that this last week, to make sure he’d be able to keep up when classes started.

“And the bathrooms?”

“I … don’t know,” he admitted. He hadn’t paid attention. “I think I saw some signs. What are bathrooms like at school? Wait, what about baths?” Where were they going to wash?

“If it was anything like my old dorm, you’ll probably have showers.”

“Showers?” He spun on her.

“Don’t look so disgusted,” she said, surprising him.

Like most others he knew, they had grown up taking baths or going to the bathhouse. She worked at and was married to a guy who owned one. Shouldn’t she be even more appaled than him?

She looked contemplative. “We were actually thinking about getting proper showers installed, you know? Neil and I. And some of his aunts. They’ve been getting more common-place in Westhill, so we want to keep up in case people they want them. Meet demands.”

“How?” Micah asked. “Wouldn’t you have to tear up the walls and get different pipes for them, and stuff?”

It would take ages and cost a fortune. Plus, so much could go wrong if they hired the wrong people.

She shrugged. “Not necessarily. We could just put the faucets higher and add shower heads, but there’s the issue of pressure and— Look, we don’t know yet. We’re not planning on doing it now, of course. Like, in a few years, maybe.”

First a bigger kitchen, now showers, did they want to renovate the entire bathhouse? Could they even afford it? Micah wondered what Grandma Lucy thought about that. He frowned. Wait. “In a few years”? No. They wouldn’t … Right? He didn’t know if that was mean or not, planning for after someone was gone.

He spotted a student eating a sandwich and was glad to switch topics. “How was the food?”

Prisha and Noelle had eaten something already.

“It’s great,” she jumped on it with a smile. “For today. I wouldn’t let it fool you for the rest of the year, little brother. It’ll be cafeteria food. It’ll taste like cafeteria food. But you’ll get used to it.”

He scowled and kicked a pebble, hands in his pockets. He knew everyone did, but he didn’t want to eat bland food. Meals were important. It was when everyone came together to hang out, aside from in rooms. But they didn’t have rooms where all of them could hang out anymore.

Micah didn’t want to find a common room where they might be able to hang out, if the seats weren’t taken. He didn’t want to share a room with three strangers. He didn’t want to worry about people messing with his stuff. He didn’t want them to renovate the entire bathhouse, and he didn’t want to go on this stupid tour. He wanted to have gone to the Open House and already know where everything was. Or rather, he wished this was the Open House and everyone would be here.

Just a bunch of small things, but together they seemed insurmountable. What Micah wanted was to go home and sleep on Ryan’s floor for another few years.

“I must have spoiled you with my cooking,” Prisha said, running a hand through his hair.

He let her, admitting, “I’m spoiled rotten.”

“It’s okay,” she told him in a soft voice. “It’s just like cold water, Micah. You just have to start swimming—”

“Can I have your attention, please?” a young woman at the front of the crowd called, thankfully. If she hadn’t, Micah might have just kicked his sister in the shin instead of another pebble.

He didn’t want to be forced to swim ever again.

After a little more shouting, the crowd quieted down. The woman seemed a little overwhelmed. She had two colleagues with her in the same uniform blazers, but by the way they stood, they looked more like gossiping school girls than work colleagues. They were young.

“Hi. I’m Beth,” she said with a smile. “And these are Rana and Mel. We’ll be showing you around campus today and telling you a bit about the school and—despite it being brand new—its history. Because this place does have a history. To do that, we’ll have to split you up into groups. Sorry. You’re too many for the hallways. If you ever have a question, just say the word and we will try to answer as best we can. If you get lost, just keep an eye out for one of our flags.”

She held a pointy flag with the simplified school emblem over her head. Darker red with an argent stripe running down the middle, signifying the Tower like most climbing schools did. A stylized “D” and books were layered over it, for Denner, the driving founder, and the Registry.

The proper emblem looked better. There, the books’ had words on them.

The crowd of people tried their best to shuffle into three groups, but that didn’t go well. Eventually, Rana, one of the three guides, took over. “New plan!” she called. “Everybody stay in your groups!”

They did and she counted. At thirty people, she cut them off and told Beth to lead them away. Then the next group was counted off.

Micah shuffled over to stand next to Lisa as they walked back into the building behind them.

The true campus consisted of four parallel buildings running down vertically from the Climber’s Guild. Male dormitory, school building number one, school building number two, female dormitory. They were underlined by the administrative building, which they were now in.

Beth pointed out the secretary’s office and some of the teachers’ offices for various fields of study or student contacts, then the few classrooms. Thankfully, they didn’t walk everywhere. They just gathered in the hubs and she pointed. She mentioned the billboards where information would be posted, but said they billboards in the foyer of the Guild building—directly on the other side of the courtyard from where they now stood—would be a better to place to keep an eye out for things.

They left by the right side and entered a smaller, squat building that stood halfway to the girl dorms. It had a small gymnasium inside, two lecture halls, changing rooms, and an archery range. They weren’t allowed to enter those with their shoes on, though.

On their way out, they headed in the opposite direction, to the left side of campus, because Beth wanted to end the tour in the cafeteria. They entered school building one and she told them most of the science classes would take place here, excluding biology.

The Climber’s Guild had the largest gymnasia. The one in which Micah had written his exam was to the left side, closer to Westhill. But there were two more on the right side of campus—the archery building and one in school building number two—so they put biology there for consistency.

That got a round of groans from the guys in the tour, including Ryan and him. Most people who took physical studies would also take biology, Micah needed it for alchemy, and school building two was farthest from the male dorms.

The main cafeteria was also in school building number two, which was just plain unfair.

When they heard that, Lisa leaned over to whisper, “We’re hanging out on the right side of campus.”

“But my workshop is on the left side,” Micah protested.

“Yes, but the main library and cafeteria are on the right side. And, you know, my room, so that pretty much settles it.”

That caught his attention. “How is your room?”

She thought about it for a moment while the group moved on. “It’s … small. A girl my age was there. She had dark skin. I asked her if she was related to the Heswarens. She told me to go screw myself and that if I touched any of her things, she would kill me. I’ve been hearing that phrase a lot today. Is it customary?”

“Oh. I've heard it, too, but I wouldn’t know. My condolences?”

She shrugged.

Micah just hoped his roommates wouldn’t be like that. They had skipped years to attend, just like him. What would they be like?

The tour group actually entered the male dorms then—Micah’s building—with the girls in tow, which was another sign of bias. There was no way they would be allowed in the female dorms after all.

Beth led them to a common room he hadn’t even known was there and re-introduced them to Dean Breyer, the man in charge of the building. They had met him already, earlier today, when he had pointed them at their rooms. He was middle-aged and seemed pretty easy-going, but was forcing himself to appear strict—and succeeding. No doubt, because he had been told to by Ms. Denner or someone higher up. Everything had to be perfect after all.

The man repeated some rules, reminded them of the full list they could find in their papers, and told them they could always come to him if they needed anything. He then pointed them in the direction of the room where they could get bed stuff if they hadn’t brought their own—they hadn’t—and in the direction of the washing rooms, which were small.

They really were showers. That sucked.

“There are others on the upper floors,” he explained, “but you will be spending a lot of time in the gymnasia. Each one has rooms much larger than these. Use them. We also have an agreement with a local cleaner, who has agreed offer their services for you students at a discount. You can find more information on them in the common room or at my office, but their building isn’t hard to find.”

He led them to a window and gave them directions into the city. It was just three streets off campus. “I would recommend you use their services as well, if you don’t want to ruin your clothes in a month.”

He invited them to a dorm meeting this afternoon where they could get to know each other, and David nudged them to make sure they'd heard. As a parent, of course he would want them to attend.

They left just as the next tour group entered.

Next stop was the Climber’s Guild. A massive, two-story foyer was right behind the main entrance, reminiscent of the actual Climber’s Guild. It was supposed to serve as a mixed common room and central hub for students. Their rankings for the first two exams were posted there—placements only—but the third was missing. When would they put it up?

“Now, many of you might not know this, but only about a third of the structures surrounding the walls actually belong to the Climber’s Guild,” Beth told them. “The majority is owned by the city. The Guild merely rents or oversees these spaces. That does not hold true for this campus. You are on private Guild property, which makes a lot of things easier for us.”

She smiled and looked like she wanted to go on when somebody asked, “What about the rest?”

Micah was surprised to see it was Prisha, with her hand raised like a student.

“Excuse me?” Beth asked and pointed. “In the back?”

“Oh. Uhm,” she spoke up, “Who else owns property around the Tower?”

“Ah. Good question. The rest is either owned privately or by shared companies. Some of the more famous names would be the Madins, who are involved in the harvest from the Gardens, along with people like the Bluth and the Gardeners. Then there are the Heswarens, who are famous public servants, or the Tor, who are a famous [Guard] family. They train most of the policing forces in the city. But of course, the Volkov would probably own the most property of all.”

Prisha nodded with a frown and mumbled to herself, “Rich people, then.”

Lisa leaned over. “The Madins are the real leaders around here. They're above the other two. The Volkov own a bunch of property, but they have no ambition. And the Tor and Heswarens are both just branches of larger families.”

“They are?” Micah cut in.

A nod. “The Tor live mostly in Anevos, and the Heswarens are wandering judges. The branch that settled in Hadica are almost considered pariahs by the main family for wanting to look after a Tower.”

That was surprising. “Anne, too?”

“Depends on whether or not she decides to stay here. Guessing by how she wants to become a climber …”

She let the sentence trail off and Micah felt strange. On the one hand, he didn’t want Anne’s family to consider her a pariah. On the other hand, his parents considered him one, so …

Maybe he would bring it up some time? But, like, in a way that said, Hey, we have something in common, he hoped and not, Hey, I’m miserable.

“But the main branch isn’t all that,” Lisa added. “They visited my parents once and snooped around to see if they were practicing any ‘dark arts.’ My parents kicked them out and told them to never come back without an invitation. It was fun to watch.” She smiled at the memory. “I mean, they do good. Anywhere else. But in places where there is little good to be done? They just become self-righteous.”

“Ah?”

Beth led them past the gymnasium and locker rooms to a hallway four people wide. She searched a bundle full of keys and unlocked double-doors at its end, revealing blinding sunlight.

They were right in front of the Tower’s plaza. Everyone gawked at the sudden change.

“This is one of the school’s three private entrances to the Tower,” she told them as they gathered, “though you may only use them if you have permission. Your climbing instructors will tell you more. But as students of this school, you are already signed up with the Guild so you can just use the main entrances. I would suggest doing that if you want to climb in your free time. It saves both you and the secretary office a lot of paperwork. You have to walk to the West or Southwest doorway anyway, from here.”

In both directions of the distance, loot tents and other temporary structures stood. Climber streamed in at the front and carts of processed loot came out at the back. That was normal. But for the first time, Micah saw a base part of the Tower that didn’t have a portal. It was strange, like looking at a house without windows.

They walked across the plaza to catch some fresh air and headed back inside through the central private entrance. It was wider—six to eight people wide instead of four. It led to a small set of stairs just ten meters in. From there, they reached a larger hub of hallways, the center one of which led straight back to the foyer. Directly above them was the true wall.

“Nowadays,” Beth told them about it, “the main excuse for the wall is to prepare in case anything goes wrong. The historic reason, though, was that the city tried to create order. Just look at Anevos, where they tore down large sections of their wall during the revolution and haven’t put them back up again. It has the highest rate of Tower crimes committed in any of the Five Cities.”

Micah privately disagreed. It was a wall. The main purpose was obvious.

“How did this turn into a history lesson again?” Lisa whispered as they followed their guide around like sheep.

He shrugged. “Iunno.”

Prisha shushed them. She was into it.

Ryan seemed a little absent. His parents were paying more attention than him, but to the scenery and their surroundings, not necessarily to what Beth was saying.

They reached a stairwell on the right side of the building with doors adjacent and came to a halt. “If you go through the doors here and then along that path”—she pointed through the window panes—”you’ll get to the cafeteria. We’ll come back here at the end of the tour to get something to eat.”

She took them further into the building, then along a right and paused again.

“Now, if you keep on heading this way you will eventually reach the Guild’s public cafés and restaurants. The same holds true for the other direction, of course, though you might have to walk a bit further to get to the Western Guild building. Most of you will be allowed off-campus, I believe. Unless you have house arrest. You may frequent those establishments. The campus also borders on a Bazaar, a shopping district, a housing district, and the judicial one, so you may go there in your free time. But”—she held up one finger—”if you do, you must behave exceptionally. As students of this school, you have a duty to represent its name, imagine, and interests on and off this campus. Especially when you wear your school uniforms, make sure your appearance is tidy, your clothes spotless, and your behavior courteous to others.”

Those last things, of course Micah would do. But visiting the shopping district or cafés instead of the cafeteria? He was currently three gold coins in debt to his sister, until the auction took place, so he wasn’t going anywhere except to classes, the Tower to earn money, and Westhill to visit home.

When they went on, their guide put a finger in front of her lips and shushed them before speaking in a quieter tone that didn’t quite reach the back, “Now, this way leads to the main library. As students of this school, you will have the privilege of having one directly connected to the Registry, which other people can also use. Just like with the cafés, be very respectful of both the books and other patrons to make sure you don’t break any rules. If you do, well, maybe apologize quickly? Otherwise, you’ll get banned. And you don’t want that. Trust me.”

They entered a wide-stretching library. There was a reception desk to the left and a reading area near the entrance. The ceiling didn’t reach much higher than the bookshelves did. In the distance, stairs led up. This was just one floor of many, then.

Beth pointed out some sections and told them about library cards, but mostly led them straight through to the far-right side. Off-campus, Micah suspected. She unlocked another door to a decorated hallway they followed it until they reached a deathly quiet crossroads where their footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud. They past a stairwell and some doors, but kept on walking. At the end, she led them a short distance through another door with wood-intersected glass panes and another lock, then another set of the same just three meters in. Finally, they stepped into something much larger.

The Registry.

Bookshelves formed dim aisles on earth-colored marble hard to discern in the dark. Five shelves high, five bookshelves long, the aisle they entered was wider than the ones next to it. There were stepping ladders littered around to help reach the top shelves. The wood was old and sturdy, oiled to look like stone.

Most of the books looked strangely uniform, reminding him of tweed jackets with elbow patches. But they also had white markers Micah didn’t understand. A numbering system? What was odder yet was that each book with a marker had a slight sheen to it, only visible in movement. It reminded him of the warding spell Mave had once used on his door.

But beyond, once his eyesight adjusted to the light, there was a reading area.

Long tables made of dark wood, tan rugs with earthy patterns, couches and armchairs in front of smaller tables, a broad wall formed by a support pillar on which paintings hung; it looked they had walked into a nobleman’s study. There was even a bust of a man Micah didn’t recognize.

The colors reminded him of coffee.

At one of the table rows, Mr. Walker sat working. Micah thought it said something that he had chosen the desk-like option instead of an armchair, whose adjacent table couldn’t hold much more than one book.

He noticed the murmuring crowd as Beth led them in and stood to greet them with a low voice that carried far, “Good day students, friends and families, and welcome to the public library section of the Registry. Please, step closer.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

What surprised Micah most of all in the better lit area was the lack of dust. Specifically, dust essence. Where it gathered, patterns like the grooves in wood or ripples in ponds appeared. There were none here. Everything was clean.

The linens of air essence were barely disrupted as the tour group moved through. They weren’t layered and heavy either, like stuffy rooms tended to be. They were light and easy to breathe.

The only place where he caught a hint of light—or shade, he supposed—essence was when his eyes still needed to adjust to the light of the large chandelier and thin skylights four floor above them. Railings rose around this area, too, with thin stairs almost like ladders connecting them. Booshelves, lamps, and furnitures stood near those railings, too. In all directions, the maze of bookshelf aisles continued on in seeming perpetuity. This was one of the largest libraries in the city after all.

But despite that, this place was quiet. It was so tranquil, even essences were either absent or hard to see.

Ryan nudged him and he stopped gawking for a second to pay attention to what Mr. Walker had to say. He must have missed the introduction because he was in the middle of rules.

“Contrary to popular belief, you may eat and drink in this library,” he told them. “The head-librarian for this section of the Registry has more Skills to protect these books than any of you have Skills in total. However, this does not mean you can cause a mess. Climbers smearing condiments on the inside of books have been banned from the Registry and fined hefty sums in the past. And if, by some unholy means, you do manage to damage any of these books, we will know that you put a lot of effort achieving that result and will put just as much effort into punishing you appropriately.”

He said it casually, but the students gulped.

“Keep in mind, this only extends to books that are a part of the Registry. Your own textbooks and notes will not be safe from spills and stains. Nor will most the furnishings, so be careful not to make a mess.”

He continued to talk about how much time they would spend here, that they should work in this area if possible, and that the broader Registry might be too confusing for them to browse leisurely, but they were welcome to seek out the main directory for assistance. Beth invited them to stay if they wanted to leave the tour early to look around. A lot of people took her up on the offer.

Unfortunately, four of them hadn’t eaten yet so they left with her again, but Micah definitely wanted to come back later. He leaned over to Lisa on their way out and whispered, “I call hanging out in the Registry.”

She nodded in agreement.

“I’m a little worried,” Ryan whispered, “that you two won’t leave.”

They both nodded again. There was a closing time … from their libraries’ entrance. If they used the main entrance, they could stay as long as they liked. Well, Lisa could. Micah had curfew.

For the first time, Ryan’s parents also looked amazed. They hadn’t been entirely on-board with the idea of their son attending, but had let him make his own decisions. Just one more reason a part of Micah wished they were his parents, too. David leaned over to his son and said, “Access to the Registry is expensive, Ryan. Make sure to use it to its fullest, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

On the pathway to the cafeteria, their tour group stumbled upon their principal, who had a bag strapped over one shoulder and a smooth metal bottle in hand. Beth looked animated and spoke to the group, “Ah, Ms. Denner! I’m sure you all know, but this is—”

“Hi, Beth,” Ms. Denner interrupted her and greeted the remaining crowd, “Hello, there. I really hope you like the tour. Beth is doing a great job, I’m sure. But you all know me. We’ve met. Talked. I’m sorry I can’t talk right now. I was actually hoping I could steal one from your midst for a few minutes. Micah?”

He perked up. “Huh? Uhm, I mean, yes, ma’am?”

“Could I speak with you?” She gestured to the courtyard and Micah glanced at the others, worried he had done something wrong. They not-so-subtly shooed him away.

The tour group said goodbye and continued on into the cafeteria. Micah’s stomach rumbled as he followed into the courtyard at a brisk pace. Ms. Denner seemed agitated, like she was busy or something had gone wrong. Possibly one because of the other. But the first thing she asked him, “Was that your sister?”

“Huh? Yes?”

“Which one?”

“Oh. Prisha, not Maya, ma'am.”

“The family resemblance is there.” She gestured at one of the patches of green in the path beside the cafeteria and asked him, “Tell me what you see.”

Was this a trick question?

“Uhm, shrubbery? Flowers?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes. Very good. What about the flowers?”

Why was she asking? What did she want him to say? Oh?! Was it something to do with essences?

Micah took a second look, but they were just normal flowers. Their leaves made the air shift ever so slightly as they breathed. No condensation. It was too warm for that. They had phantom lines running through their stems and petals, like small rivers circulating. Or maybe blood pumping. If he focussed his eyes, he could see their scents and pollen in the air, and even a soft glow to their leaves, like godrays from the clouds. He'd used to think that might be something magical, but now he suspected it was just them interacting with sunlight. He'd learned about it in biology.

They weren’t even that impressive flowers, he had to admit. Most he saw in shops or boxes had much more vibrant essences and colors. These didn’t have the untamed nature of wildflowers, either. They were just kind of there, but he couldn’t tell Ms. Denner that.

Micah began to diplomatically tell her about the first part of his observations when she cut him off.

“Oh, no. Not that. Normal sight, Micah. Or can you not discern? How would you say these flowers look like?” She seemed a little annoyed, but not by him.

Now he got it. “Well, uhm, my mom would say they look a little thirsty, ma’am.”

She gave him a side-eyed look. “And I would have to begrudgingly agree that your mother is a very wise woman. But that’s just it. They are thirsty. You see—and I have no idea how this happened—but we have nobody on staff who has the [Green Thumb] Skill. Not a single one.”

He frowned. “Isn’t [Green Thumb] supposed to be common among gardening Classes?”

“Yes! It is. And we’ve hired exactly zero people who have it. Now, the flowers we ordered still look great. For today. But by Monday? In this heat? They will just look even more thirsty.”

“Have you tried … watering them?” It was a stupid question, he knew, and she thankfully let it slide.

“Look over there.” She pointed at a flower box in a window. It overflowed with colors. “I wanted them all to look like that on Monday. They were supposed to look like that today, but some turned out like”—she gestured dismissively at the bland ones in front of them—“this.”

“Uhm, I hope I’m not overstepping, but … when was the last time you got any sleep, ma’am?”

She glanced at him and unscrewed her bottle. “Sleep? What’s that?” By the heat essence that escaped as she took a sip, Micah knew the contents were hot. Coffee, probably.

“I’m just not sure how I can help?”

“Mm!” She pointed at him, put the bottle back, and brought out her binder instead. She opened it on a marked page and flipped it over to show him.

It was a recipe for a fertilizer potion. It was his recipe for a fertilizer potion, one of the few he hadn’t been able to improve before he'd handed his portfolio in. Was she just walking around with it?

“Can you make this?” she asked him. “Or something like this?”

Micah had made that recipe years ago when he’d been inexperienced and only had [Infusion]. Could he make something like it? He shook his head and smiled. “I can make something much better, ma’am.”

She sighed in relief. “Good. There are recipe books in the library, but I’m not sure if any of them have potions like these.”

“There are?”

“Of course. Actually, now that I think about it, check with them first. You might find something in the table of contents. But if you don’t, what would you need to make this, how long would it take, and can it work fast enough that you can make a practice group first in case something goes wrong? No offense.”

“None taken. I, uhm—” His head was filling with ideas, half of which were his own, half [Personalized Alchemy]. Probably. It got hard to tell, sometimes. “I would need twenty-four hours for a practice group, so if you want them done by Monday … ?”

“Perfect.”

“Ingredient-wise, do you have compost? Or something like compost? Dung? Dung would be—”

“Stop. As long as it’s cheaper, I don’t want to know the details. Especially not if they involve dung.” She started walking back toward the cafeteria. His group had sat down near one of the windows so they could watch them. “And do not walk around campus with dung or anything that smells like dung either, Micah. Use your perfume if you have to. Go into the kitchens and tell Mrs. Elle I sent you. She should have leftover things from cooking this morning, carrot tops, old salad heads, that kind of stuff. Good?”

“Perfect,” he borrowed her answer. “But uhm, where would I work?” He hadn’t brought his alchemy set with him.

“Right. Go to the administration afterward, or maybe do it first, and let them give you a key for the workshop. In it, you’ll find all the tools you need. Including a tub large enough to fill buckets. Will you be needing Tower ingredients?”

“Some. Well, it depends on how many flowers I need to water”—he looked around, at the many patches of color, noticed the flower boxes in the windows, and remembered the in-door flowers they had passed all over campus and frowned, his enthusiasm dipping—”I would need …”

“A lot,” she told him. “Speak with the groundskeeper. You’ll find him in the shed outside your dorm, in his office in the administration, or the shed outside the other dorm. He should be able to put it into numbers for you. Have him help, too, with the final product. Be discreet.”

“Uhm, why doesn’t anyone have [Green Thumb] again?” Micah asked, a little overwhelmed.

She sighed. “We prefered to hire lower-leveled people who don’t have a lot of Skills yet, where possible, so their Skills adjust to the needs of the school rather than the school adjusting to the Skills they have.”

“Oh.”

“It’s also cheaper. A new school like this? We’re giving them the opportunity to level quickly.”

“Right.” Doing something like this would probably also help him level, eventually.

“Get it done, Micah,” she told him in front of the doors. “Anything you buy, keep the receipts and give them to my secretary afterward.” She frowned. “Wait, do you even have enough money to forward this?”

He shook his head.

She rubbed her forehead in annoyance. “Either go to the administration for that, if you’re buying at the Bazaar, or shop at the Guild and have them put it on the school tab for this month. Still, I’m asking you to save money. Don’t go over the top with this. Just give the petals a little extra lustre for the big day. Our staff is bound to level up sooner rather than later. Someone is going to get the Skill.”

Micah nodded. That would make things easier. “Uhm, one last question. Why are you going to me with this, ma’am?”

She paused. “You are our senior most leveled [Alchemist], aren’t you?”

He swelled a little in pride at the reality of that, but then she added, “Truth be told, you were the only alchemist on hand who had any kind of flora recipe in their portfolio. It would seem your peers don’t put a lot of value into making flowers look pretty. A shame. Good luck.” She waved and headed into the Guild building, leaving him there.

Micah waited for a moment, a little lost, then stepped into the cafeteria and walked over to where the others sat. He stole one of Prisha’s sandwich-halves, took a bite and was surprised by how good it tasted. After chewing, he answered their questions by telling them, “I need to make enough potion to water every flower on campus. Help?”

----------------------------------------

They split up. Someone had to find the groundskeeper to confer with him while Micah got the key for the workshop. Once they had him, a young man who looked like he had come out of school a year or two ago, Lisa worked out most of the numbers and they made a map of all the flowers on campus. The moment Micah caught up, he was sent off again to search the library.

There was a whole shelf full of recipe books, but their table of contents didn’t turn anything up on [Green Thumb] or similar keywords. Lisa and Micah insisted they didn’t need a recipe anyway—they could make one themselves.

He made the base recipe of what he wanted the potion to do—promote growth and colors—and she checked his work. They drafted a shopping list of mostly light, plant, and ink crystals for their essences and the groundskeeper insisted on buying everything, after getting both it and the recipe checked by Ameryth’s secretary, to make sure it would be cheaper than buying potions themselves or just hiring a high-leveled [Gardener] to water the plants for three days.

[Green Thumb] worked mostly on growth and maintenance, though. The Skill needed time to take effect and a few days might not be enough. A higher leveled [Gardener] might have other Skills and tools to make them grow quicker.

The woman told them to only shop for the control group for today. If it worked, they could buy more tomorrow. That cut down the list considerably.

When the man left, Micah ran ahead to speak with the cook while Lisa went to prepare the workshop.

That left Ryan to make his way across the courtyard on his own. They would be stuck ferrying bins of compost to the science building today, and watering the campus with potions tomorrow. This was not how Ryan had imagined he would spend his first weekend on campus.

But still, it felt nice to do something useful. Making sure all the flowers looked like they were fresh from a [Florist] by Monday? He could get behind that. And Gus had said, some [Scouts] leveled by doing good deeds. He wondered if Ameryth would reward them anyhow or if she was abusing their volunteer spirits … Probably the latter.

He was almost to the side-door of the cafeteria when he spotted someone out of the corner of his eye and turned around. There, meandering along the inner wall of the courtyard, shaggy hair and the greasy smell of handling metal bare-handeed. It was the lightning guy. On his arm, he wore a wristband that looked like a soap-bubble.

What?

Wasn't this his wristband? Ryan took a right and strode towards him.

The other noticed halfway there and a look of recognition passed over his face. He seemed somewhat nervous and stopped walking.

Ryan tried to look casual, friendly even. He might be wrong after all. His nervous posture didn’t have to mean anything. But when he greeted him, he cut to the chase, “Hey, that wristband you’re wearing …?”

“Oh?” The [Mage] held his arm up a little and glanced at it, then back. Now, he smiled instead of being nervous. “Yeah, it’s the one you gave me. Thanks again for that, by the way.”

Gave you? Ryan paused. He was a hundred percent sure he had given him his own wristband back, back then. It had even glowed … red. Oh. And his [Dancing Lights] wristband had glowed red sometimes when he wore it too long. Say, if he had worn it for five hours on end during the entrance exam.

Ryan wanted to groan. He had spent weeks and made his team spend weeks looking for something he’d lost all because of a misunderstanding.

Lisa said the red glow was because he unconsciously began fueling the enchantment with his mana instead of his ambient mana when he ran out, and that the different fuel source offered him more control to unconsciously make it glow red. Yeah, right. Like Ryan would do that with Micah around. There had to be a different reason.

“Is it broken?” he asked, a sudden thought. It wasn’t glowing at all now, after all. Not even a little. It was in its dyed-thread state despite skin contact.

“What? Oh, no.” Suddenly, the wristband’s colors swept together like fluids. It glowed now, but the effect was barely visible in the daylight. Instead, it looked like one cloth instead of a bunch of tiny threads. The guy fiddled with it, “I usually turn it off to reduce wear on the enchantment. And, uhm, because it draws attention?”

“Oh, yeah?”

Usually? Did he wear it often?

“You can turn it off already?” Ryan asked, feeling a little lost. What did he do? It had just been an accident. Did he ask for it back? But if he thought it'd been a gift, how was he supposed to do it in a way that didn't leave him looking ike an ass?

“[Mage] control, I bet.”

The guy winced a little and shook his head. “I’m actually not a [Mage]. Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just—”

Ryan smiled a little, awkward. “What are you then?”

“An [Enchanter]?”

He blinked. [Enchanter]? Now the greasy smell of metal made more sense. The hints of leather and sawdust, too. They hadn’t fit with his bookwormish appearance, but he was a crafter because he had to make stuff for his Class.

“Wow,” Ryan admitted. “That’s awesome. Congratulations?”

A hesitant smile. “Thanks. I can’t actually make anything yet, but I can bind items. My instructor told me not to because I don’t know how to undo it yet, but I bound with your— Uh, I mean, my wristband. I thought knowing some light spells would be useful inside the Tower, you know?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah. I agree. Wholeheartedly. That’s awesome, man.” It was the reason he had bought it in the first place, after all. But if the other guy had bound to it, there was no way Ryan could ask for it back. Not unless he undid the binding. Not unless he revealed his own screw-up. That was just … great. He sighed and mentally kicked himself, Great job, idiot.

The guy took a step back and asked, “Uhm, do you want to see?”

Tired, Ryan offered him a smile. So he had lost it, just not in the way he had thought. No sense in blaming someone else, then.

“Sure. Show me.”

He lifted his palm up and made a ball of light hover just as Lisa shouted, “Ryan! Less fraternizing and more lifting!”

He spun around. The light went out.

“We could really use your aura right about now.”

“Do some stuff without my aura for a change!” Ryan shouted back. “You’re getting lazy!”

“We talked about this,” Lisa said. “The aura helps with exercise. Carrying bins of compost around school counts as exercise!”

“In what world?”

“Are you doing something?” the guy behind him asked, frowning. “Or are you in trouble?”

Ryan looked back and scratched his neck awkwardly. “Something like that. My friends dragged me into it. Sorry, but I have to go?”

“Yeah, uhm, of course. Bye. Or see you later, then?”

“See you later.” Ryan waved and headed off. Definitely not how he had thought he would spend his first weekend on campus, but ... it wasn’t so bad. A few meters away he turned around and called, "You definitely still owe me one, though. Don't forget it!"

Especially if Ryan had gifted him an enchanted item, even unintentionally.

He seemed almost relieved when he called, "I won't!"

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Making the potion and testing it on three flower pots took long enough that they missed the beginning of the dorm meeting, so Micah didn’t go at all. He didn’t mind. He was hanging out with two groundskeepers, his friends, and a biology teacher in the workshop. They were all periodically inspecting the plants to make sure there were no side-effects to the potion that would leave the entire flora on campus a shriveled-up mess by Monday.

They got their first results within a few hours when the essences shifted like water soaking up a cloth. They looked more vibrant to him and the plant seemed perkier. The others were pleased, too. But they would have to wait twenty-four hours before they supplied the entire campus. Their biggest worry was that the effect would wear off, really. Or that, like a drug, it might leave it worse off afterward.

Prisha and Noelle hung around and grumbled that they should have something to say, since they were both hobby-gardeners, but they had nothing. This was alchemy. The only reasons the staff members could weigh in was because they had Skills or other ways to inspect the plants. Micah spent some time explaining.

When everything was done, they cleaned up, locked up the workshop—a long room filled with rows of counters and shelved equipment—and David surprised them by turning up with his alchemy chest and some other loose belongings. They wouldn’t have to go back after all.

The cook treated them to some desserts and Ameryth’s secretary checked in to make sure they wouldn’t have to order a few litres of express flower potions. She herself was too busy, though.

Micah hung over one of the many tables in the spacious cafeteria then, after gorging himself on pastries. Running around campus was tiring, even if it had given him something to do.

Looking around, he spotted familiar faces. Saga, the blond [Mage] who wanted to write a spellbook, getting up from a table just as Mr. Sundberg sat down. Alex sitting with some guys his age and bantering. Some people he had seen in the hallway. One guy kept on glancing at them as if he wanted to join them at any moment, but didn't. Micah didn't recognize him. Maybe a friend of Lisa’s? A huge man asked him a question, though, and he got wrapped up in his group’s conversation. He thought he even saw Pav walking around, the guy who had treated him like an annoying little brother at the physical aptitude test.

But still no Anne. Actually, the cafeteria was rather empty for five-hundred and twenty students.

“Where is everyone?”

“Context, Apples,” Lisa told him.

“Everyone else. There’s two hundred people in here at most and half of that are students. Even if some are at those meetings, or in their rooms, or exploring the campus … Where is everyone?”

“You didn’t think they’re all staying here over the weekend, did you?” she said, poking at her cake.

His head shot up. “They aren’t?”

“No. They’ll stay home until they have to come. Who would want to sleep in a dorm when they can sleep in their own bed?”

“So then …?”

“We’re staying,” Ryan told him.

“Aw.”

In hindsight, it made sense. Why share a room when you could sleep in a mansion? Micah huffed out a breath and let his head drop back down. He was three gold coins in debt to his sister. If people knew that, would they even talk to him? He wished he were rich.

“Did you not want to stay?” David asked him.

Micah shrugged, non-commital.

“Why not?” the man badgered.

“I don’t know. I mean— I don’t know. I still had to go back for my alchemy stuff and I thought we could just, you know, stay for one last weekend or something. Maybe have another big dinner like after the exam or— I don’t know, okay?”

“We’re having dinner now?” Ryan offered. “Or afternoon lunch. Same thing.”

Noelle squinted at him. “Are you homesick?”

Micah bristled. “Yeah! I am. So what?”

“And you wanted to stay at our place one last time?”

“Yeah ...”

The others suddenly broke out into smiles, barring Lisa, and Micah was confused. “What?” he asked, challenging them. Were they making fun of him?

“Nothing,” David said, still grinning. “It’s just you’re homesick, you know? And you want to stay at our place because of it. It's flattering. You can drop by anytime you want. You know that, right, Micah? You’ll always be welcome.”

He caught on and scrambled to apologize, face flushing in embarrassment, but they wouldn’t hear it. Prisha, too, didn’t seem mad at him. He had worried she might be weirded out, but she joked with Ryan’s parents over it, that they were stealing him away.

It was nice.

But the sky dimmed eventually and they had to leave. They waved goodbye at the main entrance and the three of them split up once in the courtyard and then again in the hallway of the dorms.

Micah got his bed stuff from Mr. Breyer and walked into his room, where two others were already talking, sitting on their beds opposite one another. A third was unpacking his things in the corner.

“Oh, hey!” The one on the front left bed noticed him and asked, “Are you the fourth?” He had dark brown hair and comfortable clothes that were not-quite pajamas, but definitely meant to serve the same purpose. He was young, too. Thirteen or fourteen at most.

Micah had stopped wearing proper pajamas when he realized Ryan didn’t either, a few weeks after he got out of the Tower. The summer heat had helped with the decision back then. “Yeah,” he said and introduced himself, “Micah.”

“Lanh.”

He shifted the pile to shake hands. It was sloppy, hesitant, no good grip at all. The boy seemed scrawny. How had he made it past the exams?

The one to the right had short, even darker hair and seemed a little broader. “Fabian.” His handshake was a little better, but not much.

The last called, “Vladi,” over his shoulder, but didn’t stop unpacking his clothes into his wardrobe. He was pale with black hair.

“Nice to meet you,” Micah said and hesitated. Should he crack a joke? He went for it. “Uhm, I think I’m legally required to tell you that if you touch any of my stuff, I’ll kill you.”

Lanh laughed. “Yeah. Good one.”

“Thanks …” Micah awkwardly started making his bed and copied the other in unpacking while the front two chatted away about the school and how excited they were to be here.

“Hey, what are you in for, Micah?” Lanh asked him eventually.

“Huh?”

“What got you into the school early?” he clarified and held his chin up high. “[Mage], here. Level five.”

“Also, [Mage],” Fabian said. “It’s usually magic that gets you into schools early, since anyone can do it.”

“Are you all three [Mages]?” Micah asked.

“Academic merit,” Vladi said and sat down. He picked up a thin book and started paging through. It might have been sheet music, but Micah couldn’t see the pages from his side of the room. “And [Fighter].”

“Oh. [Alchemist], here.”

“[Alchemist], really?”

Lahn started rambling away questions and Micah did his best to answer, but the other boy quickly changed the topic to spellscripts and Fabian and he started comparing. Vladi was silent on his bed, reading notes. Micah copied him by writing down the recipe for the potion he had made today, adding Lisa’s comments and his own thoughts to them.

He considered practicing [Condense Water], but didn’t want to have to deal with Lanh’s questions about it, or have to defend his spellscript to strangers. He just ... felt entirely out-of-place. Even when they shut the lights off, it was a while until Micah fell asleep.

A pounding on the door woke him and he grumbled at it, “I’m up, I’m up.”

Two of his roommates groaned around him. He wasn’t sure which ones. What time was it? Early. Definitely early. The sun hadn’t risen over the wall yet, so it couldn’t be past seven. Were they expected to get up this early even on the weekends? That was even worse than Ryan.

Micah wanted to go open the door, but Lanh got there first and, lo and behold, of course it was Ryan. In running clothes.

“Hi. Is Micah there?” he asked.

Lanh rubbed his eyes and pointed at him.

Micah started getting dressed. He knew where this was going.

“You want to go running?” Ryan asked him.

“Around campus?” That could be fun.

He grinned. “Better.”

Morning mist gathered in the plaza and the last hints of Tower essence hid in it; an eye here, a tongue there, a hand brushing past the grass’s fingers. They shimmered with condensation.

There was noise already; traffic heading in and out of tents, other joggers on their own or chanting in groups. Saga disappeared in the distance in loose grey runner’s clothes. They had spotted her in the hallways to the Guild, but she hadn’t waited up on them. Not that they'd called or anything, but she had definitely seen them once or twice. A short chat with the receptionist, verifying their identities, had delayed them further. Now it was too late. Maybe they would call out tomorrow. And maybe they could ask her to wake Lisa for them, since they weren't allowed into her dorm. Did Lisa even jog?

They finished their stretches, gave each other the ‘Okay,’ and started running at a warm-up pace. Controlled breaths drew in mist like cold water into his lungs, the sight of the argent Tower looming above them sent shivers down his spine and Micah distilled that sensation of pure excitement from the both of them.

He'd read somewhere that one lap around the Tower was eight kilometers, or five miles. They would be able to run one every morning, now. They were right there next to the Tower and had permission, after all. Somehow, he couldn’t understand that yet. But when their speed picked up, so did their minds. Micah spotted an energized grin on Ryan’s face and thought, Okay, this—this is worth it.

He let out a pumped cheer and took in a burning cold breath as he sped up his pace. This was awesome!

Ryan echoed him, louder, and a loose group of joggers running by welcomed them to the laps. Their first of many.

----------------------------------------

Ryan focussed on soaping up his hair and washing his ears out rather than looking to his right. He focussed on anything else than looking to his right. But he felt the weight of eyes boring into him and couldn’t help it.

Micah was staring at him like a wet cat from under the now-steady stream of his shower head, shoulders slouched and unhappy.

His mood had dampened somewhat after he hadn’t managed a full lap without taking a break. It had only gotten worse on their way back here, or when they couldn’t figure out the temperature settings. Now, he was sulking.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Ryan said and began rinsing off. "And stop wasting water."

“Showers,” Micah grumbled. “Not awesome. Not awesome at all.”