Chapter 8: No Panic!
Silence gripped their throats. In their silence Professor Zeke stood still. Watching. Waiting. So many faces downed in doubt. So many faces petrified of the upcoming week. Within the mass of distraught some still managed to hold their heads high. A surprising amount, if he were to be honest.
“Class is over,” Professor Zeke announced. “You may all leave now. If you are in need of a wand, please do take one from the crate on the way out. They’re provided by the college and they’re yours to keep.”
On his last words no one moved. Those that were so ready to leave before collapsed onto their seats, desperately searching his face for the smallest inkling of falsehood. They studied it like the studious students they were suspected of being, only to find that his words remained true.
A hesitant hand poked out from the seventh row. “Can you repeat that? Did you just say we’ll be expelled if we fail the first test?”
“He’s joking, he’s joking.” A student nervously chuckled. “Surely… you’re joking, right, professor?”
“Don’t be in denial. You clearly heard him.”
Professor Zeke glanced at each of the speakers. “No, no. No panic. I believe I’m not asking for much. Study hard, and study well. Until next time, everyone.” He checked the clock high above and moved. From the lecturer’s ground to the creak of the door, no one made a sound. Then, he left.
Upon the doors of the auditorium shutting, silence settled in. A moment later, when the first sound of anxiety broke, students all over voiced their concerns; shouting at the audacity and unfairness of the professor. Still, no one left. In a time of uncertainty, they turned their heads to one another for reassurance.
“...Are we really going to be kicked out?” Hubert cried.
“No… I don’t know.” Pygmilian responded. “Just what was the point of taking the entrance exam? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Go to this school, they said! It won’t be as bad as Rodwing, they said!”
“Let’s go, Hubert. We’re already late.” Pygmilian gestured to Hubert to follow. “We still have others to see, and that blasting meeting to attend to.”
“First this, now that.” Hubert forcefully exhaled as he followed Pygmilian out the door.
Shortly after, Priscilla left the auditorium by herself.
Meanwhile, Sigrios stared at the chandelier, lost in thought, all the while tapping his chin. The thought of what Professor Zeke said earlier wouldn’t leave his mind. Learning from a master… An obvious choice sprung to mind, one that churned his stomach.
Hohenheim.
Learning from the wisest man never did leave a fond memory as a child. Hours upon hours were spent locked in a room with him dumping knowledge and wisdom into a head far too little to hold. All for the sake of a proper upbringing, or so his late parents loved to believe.
But all of that was in the past. Autumns have dyed countless leaves, winters have starved their colors, and Hohenheim was no longer on the late emperor’s coins. Learning from the old man might not be the same anymore. Perhaps he had changed his ways of teaching for the better.
No, no, no. Hohenheim, changed? Sigrios shook his head and snickered. I must be going mad to think that.
Once he readied his cane and stood, he looked at the grimoire laying in front of him. It was far too massive and bulky to grip with only a spare hand. Similarly, the Royale wand wouldn’t fit in his pockets. Sigrios stared at his left hand, doubting that he could carry both at the same time.
“Need help?” Arwyn asked as she stored her own Royale wand and grimoire into her white backpack. “Where are you heading to?”
“Oh. Sure. I’m about to get food. Haven’t had anything to eat this morning.”
“Same, same.” Arwyn yawned as she collected his wand and grimoire. “It shouldn’t be allowed to have classes this early. Too tired, and hungry.”
“Right?” Sigrios smiled. “Come on, I’m starving.”
Except for a few groups of students, the auditorium still had that depressing murky air hanging about thanks to the rest. Some had already stuffed their faces into their grimoires in a rush to study. Others continued with their mouths and disrespect; assuring their peers that their renowned mothers and fathers would not stand for this.
On his way down from the tenth row he noticed how such few students actually accepted the wands inside the crate the professor provided. They were picked up and examined as students walked by, but few actually took it with them. Some only casted a single glance at it before deciding to move on.
With the abundance of wands remaining, he helped himself to it, grabbing a handful of them as he passed by and stuffing it in Arwyn’s backpack. Arwyn widened her eyes, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. She quickly glanced sideways to see if anyone would call him out on it, and when no one did, she grabbed a handful more and quickly jammed it into her backpack.
Sigros finally placed one foot out the door, and then another one to be rid of the depressing room.
Out in the halls, students dressed in unusual costumes called and tailored their tone and voices to the masses passing by. They filled every word with enthusiasm; trying to garner the eyes of anyone and everyone to the best of their abilities. Flyers and posters for clubs, sport activities, and school events pressed against passing faces, hoping that someone would at least spare a few seconds of their day.
“Place your bets for Little Summit!” a man announced. “Two-to-one! Double your earning by betting on Ash’s faction!”
“Our quest list and service rate offers weekly updates!” a woman shouted. “Subscribe to The Hunting Guild today!”
Sigrios immediately recognized the guard from the grand ceremony leaning on the west wall just outside the door.
“Oh, you.” Ren fixed his posture and stood upright. “Arwyn, how was your class?”
“Ren.” Arwyn waved to him. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Of course I do.” Ren said. “So, where are we heading?”
“Off to get lunch, actually,” Sigrios interjected.
“Oh, Sigrios, let me introduce you.” Arwyn pointed a hand to Ren. “This is Ren. He’s my bodyguard... I suppose.”
“Great, great. I’m starving.” Sigrios immediately walked off. “Let’s go.”
“Hey--!”
Seconds barely passed before someone huge and tall casted their shadow over him. Built with pure muscles, large and thick as can be, he hovered in front of Sigrios with a big smile and a flyer of fit men and women. Before he could even say a word, the man seized the initiative.
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“How are you doing today? Great weather today, isn’t it? Can I interest you in…”
Somewhere in the noise of the man’s rambling, it had something to do with rehabilitating one’s body to be strong, fit, and healthy. A class by students for students, welcoming to all shapes, race, size, and nationality. The speech trailed off as the recruiter noticed how unappreciative and inattentive Sigrios grew. Nevertheless, he urged a flyer into Sigrios’ hand and rushed on over to his next target.
Oooh. He stopped.
Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the last of it. Down the hallway, the sight of even more table stalls, poster boards, pamphlets, and make-shift signs immediately convinced him to turn around. But behind him wasn’t any better. Ren and Arwyn were caught in their own battles. Both struggling to handle the onslaught of advertisements and recruitments flanking their sides. In their own quirky ways they somehow managed to progress forward, bit by bit. The former gave a mean stern look and tapped his spears at anyone approaching Arwyn, while the latter helplessly whipped her head side-to-side.
Enclosed on all sides in this packed and busy hallway, he knew there was no other way out except forward. In times like this he naturally slipped into what was easy and expected of the heir of the Kilgore bloodline: to recede back into his own shell and let the dignified, royal prince that he was groomed to be to ease on through. Sigrios cleared his throat, combed his fingers through his hair, and leisurely walked to the closest stairway ahead of him.
In their desperate act to gain exposure for their products, classes, services, or whatever it may be that they were selling, the lack of class and tact was a sore sight to behold.
Bloody muppets. At least give me a minute before another one of you numb my ears again. He swallowed their advances, forcing smiles and spitting rejections. A simple ‘No.’ fired at every approaching person that dared to open their mouths at him. And when that didn’t work, he’d throw up a halting hand and shoo them away. During it all he never forgot to keep his feet moving, no matter how egregious they were on getting their items out there.
Another person up ahead had an even tougher plate to chew. A large crowd encircled around the third princess, but her popularity was of no surprise, given her looks, status, and publicity. Priscilla fended off clubs and sport recruiters in a princessly manner that even impressed him. A wave of her hand rooted pursuers from approaching. A display of her smile gently declined many suitors. Still, with how deep in she was, there was no end to it. At the very least, he was thankful that she occupied their attention.
As he passed by the enormous crowd, their eyes met for a split second. Her eyes snapped away to a pen-and-paper woman asking questions related to her thoughts on Shinewood College and life thus far. Sigrios silently cheered her on, and continued onwards.
Once he was out of all that mess, he leaned on the walls by the rails of the stairway and waited for the other two. A cursory glance at the flyer in his hand revealed a date, time, and location for the first meeting of Jin’s class for rehabilitation and wellness. It all sounded good and well until he noticed a small fine print at the bottom of the flyer.
“One thousand gold coins for the first class?! And two-hundred-and-fifty gold coins every month? Unbelievable!”
He flicked the flyer over the railway. “No one has money for that.” As he watched the flyer’s descent down the circular stairway, a soft vibration from his cane tickled his hand. A faint yellow light pulsated from within the cane’s many geometrical patterns. He tapped his cane. The vibration stopped. The light faded.
Finally awake, Hohenheim?
***
Shinewood College, Grandmaster’s office...
Grandmaster Babalin occupied herself with documents and papers that needed the utmost attention of Shinewood’s Grandmaster. Compared to yesterday her speed dramatically rose sevenfold in proportion to the papers that continued to scatter the floor. She swiped the final document with her right, examined it in less than five seconds, and signed away.
“DONE!” Grandmaster Babalin shouted. She face-planted into the desk and massaged her tiresome fingers.
Three sudden knocks came from the door and brought her eyes to it. A feminine voice from behind the door said, “Excuse me.”
“The door’s not locked,” Grandmaster Babalin said.
It parted for Scarlet, a guard captain of the college. In between her arms and red tabard were stacks of papers that made Grandmaster Babalin wince at the mere sight of it. Scarlet gulped at the thousands of signed papers littering the ground.
“Scarlet, please spare me,” Grandmaster Babalin pleaded.
“These are the last ones, I promise.” Scarlet meekly smiled. “I’m surprised you’re still here, Grandmaster Babalin. Honestly, I thought you would’ve ran away by now.”
“As if I can.” Grandmaster Babalin sighed and sat upright. “I’d want to, but think of the impressions the other would have if i did. I have to lead by example, or else they’ll get lazy.”
“Since when have you--Oooh my.” Scarlet stared deep into her eyes and snorted. “I see. It must be because of him. You dirty, dirty cat.”
“Ah.” Grandmaster Babalin clicked her tongue. “What rumors are you about to spread next, girl?”
“Me? Nothing.” Scarlet placed the stack of papers onto the desk. She pulled the newspaper from the bottom of the stack and hanged it in front of Grandmaster Babalin’s face. “This came in this morning from The Morning Owls. Take a read.”
Grandmaster Babalin snatched it and immediately frowned at the sight of the headline. “Explosion at the grand ceremony of Shinewood College!”
“It was only a matter of time,” Scarlet said. “The Morning Owls and the Deoch Days had their reporters on grounds yesterday. My father also mentioned that private channels already knew about it an hour later.”
“I’m well aware,” Grandmaster Babalin said. “Well, only about the Morning Owls and the Deoch Days. When you say private channels, you mean…”
“I don’t know.” Scarlet shrugged. “He didn’t tell me.”
“Of course Hughes didn’t. Forget it. More importantly, Scarlet, have you formed an opinion in regards to the incident?”
“About the explosion?” Scarlet responded. “Not particularly. When I interviewed all the instructors at the sight of the explosion, their stories all lined up. According to them, the student Arwyn was undergoing the examination phase using Tsushin’s Ten-Stress-Circle method. Somehow, something went wrong, and boom, she was caught in that explosion. There were no traces of any magical usage within the vicinity afterwards.”
“Sounds about right,” Grandmaster Babalin said. “Zeke described the same thing in his report.”
“Oh, yes. Zeke. He was the one who carried her away, wasn’t he?”
“Not only that. He came to my office with the girl and the Lilies of Rejuvenation. He and the others that handled the examination are trying to figure out what caused the explosion, so we may have an answer soon.”
“That’s a relief. I’m not too well-versed in mysticism. I’m glad they can help.”
“So, you haven’t told me what you think of it, yet.”
“Oh. Honestly, it worries me.”
“Go on."
“Well... The instructors that performed Tsushin’s method are all highly remarkable individuals. They all have titles to brag with. It’s hard to believe that they would make a simple mistake that could have cost the life of a student. Not only would it tarnish their records, but how many people would be willing to hire them again?”
“Scarlet, it’s hard to pinpoint the cause of failure within Tsushin’s method. It’s easy with one person, but with two or more it becomes a headache. What happened could be the result of more than one person, due to the nature of the process occuring in parallel with weight and load being distributed amongst the ones performing it.”
“It’s... what? I mean… Still… I just think we might be wrong to assume that this incident was an accident. The instructors here are all remarkable scholars! It’s not like the method is that hard to perform. It's hard to believe they would mess up something trivial on such an important day. That’s all.”
“I find it hard to believe, too. All that money spent and this is what I get.” Grandmaster Babalin clicked her tongue. “I can feel my stress level rising.”
Scarlet smiled. “Me, too. All the new recruits in my division sure are a bunch of migraines to deal with. I... should go and check on them before they cause too much trouble.”
“Scarlet, wait a moment.” Grandmaster Babalin pulled out a piece of paper from her desk and stretched it out. “Before that, please go and gather these individuals.”
“Sounds like a job for the Scout division, not mine.” Scarlet accepted the paper and read it anyway. It was a small list that contained room numbers and dormitories with several family names besides it. Scarlet immediately thought that the most notable thing of the list was the fact that these names belonged to specialized families, except one: Sigrios Kilgore.
“No, not your division,” Grandmaster Babalin said. “You need to bring them to my office. Don’t mention this to anyone, either.”
Scarlet glanced up from the paper, bewildered. “Sure, I don’t mind… But why? What is this for?”
“You’ll see.” Grandmaster Babalin stood from her chair and walked towards the door. “Please bring them here no later than six. In the meantime, I have to go prepare myself.”