“Come in,” a woman’s voice called out after Ranvir knocked on the door.
Opening it a crack, he looked inside. “Hi, my name is Ranvir,” he gestured to his chest, but the movement was obscured by his wing. “The receptionist told me to come right over.”
The room inside was smaller than he would’ve expected for someone with a list of credentials as long as Faidar. Bookcases clung to the sides of the room, stuffed so full with heavy books, the wood bowed. She’d even stuffed entire tomes on top of already full shelves. The desk cleared of all but a small stack of papers, as well as a single unlit lamp.
Accolades, accomplishments, and acknowledgments littered the remaining free space on the walls. One spot had three framed papers leaning against each other. The opposite wall to the door was dominated by two enormous windows, which looked out upon the back of the Collegia, its gardens on rich display, a paradisiacal river slinging its way through the lush greenery.
“Hello Ranvir,” Faidar got up from her chair and tapped her chin. She was shorter than Ranvir expected, with dark hair hanging loose down below her chest. “It’s nice to see you. The letter must’ve arrived earlier than I expected if you’ve traveled here already.”
Ranvir tapped his own jaw in return. “Not really, I have space mana. Travel even such long distances as we did isn’t an issue. Most of the time,” he pushed the door open further, revealing Vasso standing at the side nervously. “This is Vasso, my adopted charge.”
Vasso tapped his jaw with a rigidity Ranvir’d come to learn was from nerves. The boy didn’t always do too well with meeting new people. Smiling, Faidar returned the gesture. “I’ll call my assistant in, then we can begin discussing an arrangement. How does that sound?”
“That’s workable,” Ranvir agreed. “Although, do you think Vasso can borrow the library? He’s a bit of a bookworm.”
“A bookworm, is he?” Faidar smiled appreciatively at the twelve-year-old. He blushed, his gaze shooting down to his feet. “That’s an outstanding trait to nurture. We believe in the might of scholars in Chórofos. It’s down the hall to the right. The signs will show you the way. If anyone asks about you being there, send them to me, okay?”
Vasso nodded. He looked to Ranvir hesitantly. Ranvir smiled and placed his free hand on his shoulder. He noted Faidar glancing at his wings as the hand emerged. Not a great disguise, after all. “Do you want me to come along?”
Vasso looked consternated before glancing at Ranvir, blushing a little and shaking his head. “Call on me, I’ll hear it.”
He nodded and stepped down the passageway.
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“So let me get this right,” Faidar said, holding her hands up. “A fold collapsed on you.”
Ranvir nodded.
“Not only did you somehow survive.”
Ranvir nodded.
“But you also somehow ascended still active mana into anima, which remains active to this day.”
Ranvir nodded.
“Nearly half a year later.”
Ranvir nodded.
“Can we test it?”
“Only if it doesn’t take too long.”
Faidar nodded and got up. Her assistant, a small blond-furred kortian woman, followed along, readying her notes as she fished something out from one drawer of the desk. “Hold still until I say otherwise,” Faidar said, holding a wide tube of different metals vaguely held in place by a copper wire.
She pressed it to his arm, and within seconds, light started filtering up. Mostly white, with occasional flecks of yellow and bruised gray. Ranvir licked his lips and saw Siphis, the kortian, watching intently, noting each brief flicker and change to form as the energy rose within the glass, touching each of the metals.
The tube grew hotter as time passed. Hot enough to become uncomfortable to hold against his naked skin, though Faidar didn’t seem like she was going to complain. So neither did Ranvir.
“That’s good, thank you,” she said, pulling the tube away. The energy dissipated, retreating through the glass and back into Ranvir. Siphis nodded to her as they both retreated to their seats. The desk was big enough for both to take notes on it. “Something’s definitely active in your soul, something with your anima.”
Ranvir nodded and shrugged.
“And that’s when that happened to you?” Faidar asked, nodding towards the wings, which Ranvir’d let unfurl. He’d accidentally moved them too much for him to play it off as a cloak.
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“No, so I lost my arm during the fight in the fold, but I only replaced it after finished connecting with another worldshard’s mana system.”
Faidar sighed and slipped to a new page. “That’s… I… yep, I guess that makes sense,” she glared up at him. “You sure we can’t publish this?”
He nodded.
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“Alright,” Faidar said, massaging her writing hand as she leaned back in her seat. “I think that’s everything, right?”
Ranvir nodded.
“You’ve experienced a lot in very a short time, young man.”
Ranvir cocked an eyebrow. He wasn’t used to being called a young man. Especially not by a woman so close to Amalia in age.
“We can begin laying out a proper build for you tonight,” Faidar glanced questioningly at Siphis, who nodded.
Ranvir nodded in appreciation.
“We’ll, of course, keep to your theme of only controlling existing sand and not making your own.” she raised a finger. “However, before that, I’ll have to make sure you have at least a functional competence with Kynthia’s Engine and Armol’s Construction. Armol’s is lesser for now, but the Engine is the singular most important Principle for your synergies.”
Ranvir frowned and nodded. “A little, but only what I’ve read. Something about the ancient civilization’s use of rhetoric?”
She nodded. “They were asking a lot of questions. How? What? Where? When? Why? We’ve moved beyond those at this point. But before you can create synergies, you must understand the rhetoric was all circling around a single goal. They may have examined the smallest minutia of being a braced, but it was all in the pursuit of that all important question. What does it mean to be a Braced?”
Ranvir took a moment before he realized she was asking him. “A person with access to Amanaris. A person with mana.”
“That’s what a Braced is, but not what it means! Do you understand the difference? Your Ideation, Concept, affects how your mana moves. Kynthia’s Engine is why your mana moves. It’s the core Principle of your identity as a Braced.”
Ranvir frowned. He considered for a while before Faidar spoke up again. “It’s not something you need to answer right now. We can wait until tomorrow, but consider it closely.”
Ranvir licked his lips. “I understand,” he slowly got up from his chair, her words running around in his mind. What did it mean to him, being a Braced? Being Bonded? Being a Tethered? He shook his head and hurried down the hall.
He heard Vasso’s voice before he reached the library, which was a surprise in and of itself. “It’s a story about this group of Braced who rush into dangers together,” it sounded like the boy was explaining something. A book?
“Are they any good?” a female voice asked.
Ranvir slowed down.
“They’re alright, but not as good as Wolker’s original trilogy.”
“Well, those are classics. Wolker’s already stood the test of time. That’s hardly a fair comparison,” the woman said. Ranvir was approaching the open door to the library. She sighed. “My friends are all out at the park right now,” she sucked in air through her teeth and shrugged. “At least you’re making this all a little more bearable.”
Ranvir, unable to resist any further, stepped around the door frame. Vasso was sitting on a wide windowsill with his knees against his chest, curly hair illuminated almost like a halo by the sunlight.
On the opposite end of the windowsill sat a woman. She was dressed in the uniform of the Collegia staff and Ranvir immediately pegged her as a librarian, or one of their assistant. She was a few years younger than Ranvir, with delicate features and a slender neck emerging from her uniform, which fit her well.
Clearing his throat, Ranvir knocked on the door. “You ready to go?”
Vasso whipped his head around, blushing furiously.
“Who’s this?” Vasso’s new friend asked.
“That’s Ranvir,” he cleared his throat. “He’s my…”
“I adopted him,” Ranvir hurried to say, sensing Vasso getting stuck in uncertainty. He tapped his chin in greeting. “I assume he hasn’t been a problem?”
The woman laughed and shook her head, before tapping her own chin. “Nothing of the sort. It’s usually so quiet in the library these days, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”
Vasso smiled at that, though he made sure she wasn’t looking at him.
“We’ll perhaps he deserves a treat for that,” Ranvir said. “Maybe you know of someplace I can get him something?”
“There’s a dessert shop not too far from here,” she gave him the direction and Ranvir nodded in thanks.
They said their goodbyes and made their way out of the center-building. “She seemed nice.”
“Yeah,” Vasso blushed a little. “I mean…” he trailed off, shrugging. Ranvir neither could, nor cared to, stop the grin that spread on his face. They soon found the shop and Ranvir got them both a sizeable portion of ice cream. They served them in waffles over here, as opposed to cups back in Legea.
“Any place you want to go?” Ranvir asked, as they meandered the little city that had cropped up around the Collegia.
Vasso shrugged, blushing even harder. “The park?”
“Sure.”
They’d only been in the park for moments before Vasso’s reasoning made itself apparent. The small park cramped between the less boisterous gardens of the Collegia and the city was home to a sizable lake around which it appeared some students who hadn’t left the Collegia were currently camped out in front of.
A few were bathing, some enjoying the sun, and more yet, who were reading. Ranvir barely contained a full on belly laugh, instead choking on his ice cream as witnessed the scene. This would be the librarian’s friends, then, he realized.
Vasso held his cone to his chest and stared with the kind of rapturous awe Ranvir’d only seen in teenagers discovering there was more to the opposite sex than being annoying.
Ranvir bit his lip to not laugh, feeling himself go red in the face. “Don’t stare,” he finally eked out. “It’s not polite.”
Vasso startled, like he’d been kicked, and looked at Ranvir blushing furiously. Grinning down at the younger boy, Ranvir rustled his hair. “I know what it’s like. I might not have felt it as much as some other boys back in the village, but I felt it nonetheless. So don’t stare and don’t think about it too much. They are only being nice.”
Vasso's face slumped a little, and he bit his ice cream, which was running down his hand. “I know,” he muttered.
Ranvir smiled and thought of something his mother had once told him, when she had been teaching him how to make jewelry. She’d been trying to arrange the chain of a necklace so it would fall at just the right place on the client’s chest.
“Sometimes, you dress to invite looks, but you rarely ever dress to be stared at.”
“How do you know the difference? Between staring and just looking?”
“Pay attention to Menace next time Frija’s learning to use a fork. You’ll have crossed into uncomfortable sometime before that.”
“But how do I know for sure?”
Ranvir shrugged. “Just ask her, I think.”