A large crowd is lined outside the city walls, all of us waiting to be permitted entry into the city. My letters are ready, and I keep them close, safely tucked away at my belt. Lucien and Arthur are whispering quietly to each other, the conversation growing intense. I try my best to ignore them, feeling an ache in my feet, and hunger in my stomach. I think about the sorts of foods I will find once I’m in the city, and wonder if it will be anything like my mother’s cooking.

A cart selling pastries is pushing past us, and the smells waft towards the crowd, making me hungrier than before. I search through my purse in hopes of finding an extra coin to buy one, but the small amount I have left is for sending letters back home to my family.

“Luna?”

Arthur taps my shoulder, and hands me a wrapped package.

I open it, releasing the wonderful smells of the meat pastry inside. It’s intoxicating, and makes my mouth water.

“Keep it for yourself,” I say, reluctantly rewrapping it, and pushing it back into his hands.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve already had one.”

“Then you take it, Lucien,” I say, pushing the package at him.

Lucien takes it, and tears the pastry in half.

“We can share,” he says, eating his half in a single bite.

I eat the remaining half slowly. It’s the most delicious meat pastry I’ve ever had in my life. I take a drink out of my canteen, which is now empty, and curse internally. Lucien hands me his full canteen, and I take a long, satisfying drink from it.

“I’ll repay you later,” I state. “Remind me. I’ll repay you for the room, and the bath at the inn, as well. Just let me know how much it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arthur retorts.

“I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine. But I hate forcing my friends to pay me back.”

“I don’t want to be your friend,” I mutter, in disbelief.

His mouth parts, and he gapes at me. Lucien stifles a laugh.

“I don’t want to be friends with either of you,” I admit, more confidently.

It’s Lucien’s turn to gape at me now.

“You don’t mean that,” cries Arthur.

“I’ve left my friends and family behind, and will probably be away from them for more than a decade. Then I meet the two of you, and you can barely stop fighting like a couple of children. If I ever see the two of you again, it’ll be too soon. Maybe once the two of you have grown up, I won’t be so embarrassed to be associated with either of you.”

“Gods, Luna!” Arthur moans, his cheeks flushed. “Fine, you can repay me, but you don’t have to be so hurtful!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m also quite serious.”

I feel myself getting angrier when Arthur laughs off my comments. At least Lucien appears embarrassed and deeply regretful.

Once in the city, I am overwhelmingly stressed by the surrounding chaos. Luckily, I’m given an escort to the Academy. A woman meets us at the front gates claiming to have been sent by the Headmaster and Headmistress. She wears the crest of the Academy on her sleeve; the alchemical symbols of the four elements on a shield crest.

After she’s rounded up several of the other new level two students, we’re taken to the Academy by carriage. I stare out the window at the tall structures of the city. They’re taller than any of the buildings in Bellehaven, and sit closer together. There are many shops with large windows, and signs. Shops for clothing, books, souvenirs, shoes, sweets, enchantments and so on. The streets are crowded with vendors, and the intoxicating smells of fried dough, meats, nuts, and other unfamiliar scents, which makes my nose tingle. How dramatic has the change been in the rest of the world while Bellehaven slept in its tiny corner a short journey away?

The women’s living quarters at the Academy are separated from the men’s, to my relief, and I can finally be rid of Lucien and Arthur for the time being. I’m escorted to my room, and discover I will share it with three other students at my level, each specializing in another elements to encourage us to learn from each other. I’m the eldest in my room, but I was reassured it is not uncommon. My schedule, a list of supplies needed for the entirety of my second level classes, and a list of shops from which to purchase my materials are waiting for me at my small study desk.

A few days before classes are scheduled to begin, I hand two letters and the last of my coins to a messenger. When I return to my room, I lock up my bag in a trunk that sits at the foot of my bed. The key hangs from a loop on my belt, and I’m afraid of losing it, so I hide it in my mattress instead.

Today, I am determined to find work in the city to pay for my studies. The wonderful thing about the Academy is that it graciously loans its students money to purchase their supplies as long as they promise to pay it back before continuing on to their next level. The unfortunate thing is that I’m encouraged to begin paying it off as quickly as possible before it collects too much interest.

I explore the city, and apply to any position I can find; A server at an inn, washing dishes at a pub, cleaning horse stables, preparing potion ingredients in a shop. Anywhere and anything I can find. Most of the positions have already been filled by the more diligent students of the Academy who will also struggle to pay off their loans, and I fear I may have begun my search too late.

“How well are your potion-making skills?” Asks the potions shop owner.

She looks older than any Mystic I’ve ever met, and I wonder how old she was when she first reached level six, and received the immortality potion. Her nails are long and stained in various colors, usually the sign of a failed potion. The unruly waves of her hair are an indication that she might have ancestors originating from Ibis Islands. Half of it is being held up in a bun at the top of her head with a pin, the rest cascading down her shoulders and back.

“I thought I would just be preparing the ingredients.”

“You will, but I might need help making potions to keep the shop running.”

“Well, I suppose I should go, then,” I say, nervously inching towards the door. “I might still get that dish-washing job at the pub if I beg enough.”

“It’s alright, dear. You’re attending the Academy, correct?”

I nod.

“So you will learn eventually”

“Please,” I laugh nervously. “Don’t let me waste your time. I’m horrible at it.”

“Then, I will teach you. You seem bright.”

“It’ll be a challenge for both of us,” I admit, embarrassed, my hand on the door knob.

“Sit. I’ve never met anyone who is too difficult to teach. Even the ones that think they know more than me. I could always use a challenge, it keeps me young.”

I look up towards the ceiling of the shop, wondering how much damage I can cause if it’s low enough.

“I’m an Earth-Mender. My shop is safe.”

“Uh… Are you accustomed to explosions around here?”

“I still make mistakes myself, when I experiment,” she says, wiggling her fingers in the air. “I’ve hired Fire-Wielders who practiced their spells in my shop, and it still couldn’t be burned down.”

“Right.”

She presses some coins into my hand, and turns away, walking through a doorway that leads to another room at the rear of the shop. I stare at the coins awkwardly.

“What would you like me to do with this?” I call out to her.

“You can take those coins to buy yourself dinner. I can’t expect you to work on an empty stomach. You sound like you haven’t eaten in days,” she calls back.

“Uh… Just a little light on coins after my long journey, and with classes not starting yet, the dining hall is sparse.”

“You should make enough by Selara. I pay on the first of every month.”

I count off the months on my fingers.

“Half a year? That’s too much!”

She returns to the front of the shop with a frown on her face.

“Never say that, child!” She puts on a pair of spectacles. “Some will begin to believe they can take advantage of you. Never underestimate the value of your time. Now, go and get dinner. Get some rest. Return once you’ve settled down and had something to eat. You can work in your plain clothes, but I expect you to keep a clean appearance. You must also remain focused on your courses while you work here, and I expect to see your scores. You will not lose your position if you need some time to study, arrive late or need to take time off. Just don’t get lazy. Do you understand? I’ve attended the Academy, and I’ll know if you’re slacking.”

“Uh… Right. Thank you,” I mumble, surprised by her generosity.

“Every year, there are plenty of students coming from less fortunate families that cannot afford the Academy. It’s a shame that only the rich have been able to become Mystics in the past. The people in the city have agreed to help some of the less fortunate, so that they may focus on their studies, without concerning themselves with coins. Does that answer your unasked questions?”

“But… why?”

“The rich Mystics care less and less about helping others these days. They learn magic for themselves, and for a profit. They’re also spoiled rotten, and useless, if you ask me. Being a Mystic is about helping those who cannot help themselves. There are some exceptions, but not many.”

“Thank you, then. Truly. For this opportunity.”

“Go. Your first lesson will be a short one tonight after the shop has closed.”

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“Alright.”

Lunch is lonely, as I sit in the dining hall surrounded by strangers. I watch several of the high level students greet old classmates, and newer students shyly introduce themselves to each other. I wish I had the courage to do the same, but I have no time to suddenly find courage when I have to return to the shop. I take a short rest in my room after a large lunch, and just before leaving the Academy, I meet the first of my roommates. I rush off with an awkward wave, back to the shop before I have the opportunity to properly introduce myself, but she assures me she understands my predicament, and I’m grateful.

“… here are all the stirring rods. Use the metal ones when brewing the potions, and the glass ones only for mixing. Unlabeled potions will be placed in that box, which brings me to my next rule; avoid keeping potions unlabeled. It takes time to identify some of them, as I have my own recipes, and I refuse to sell them without a label. Understood?”

I nod.

“The wooden mortar is for non-staining herbs only. If you must use it, I have one that has been stained in every color over the years,” she says, pointing at a shelf lined with wooden mortars. “Feel free to use the marble one each time if you prefer, but never touch the labeled wooden ones. They’re reserved for only the rarest of ingredients, which must remain pure. Ingredients are freshest on the first and second day of the week, which is when I make most of the elixirs. However, production does not stop at all. You will have plenty to keep yourself busy.”

I make a mental note to write this all down later in my book.

“Can you write?” She asks me.

“I can.”

“Good, I will have you writing down customer orders. Some of the potions are not readily available in the shop, so ingredients must be gathered. On the first and last day of the week, I will make regular journeys into the forest north of here. If you accompany me, I can teach you how to forage for them. If you are busy with your studies, I do not expect you to show up. I will trust you to use your best judgment.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s Madam Lyra Treeleaf.”

“Yes, Madam Treeleaf,” I declare with more gusto.

“Any questions before I release you?”

“How early do you forage for ingredients?”

“When Sol rises, until he rises again.”

“A whole day?”

I must have sounded shocked, because she laughs at me.

“Yes, my dear, but you are not expected to show up. Some ingredients are better picked at different times of the day, as you know, and I must keep my shop well stocked.”

“I’ll… be sure to show up this weekend.”

“Relax, my child. You need not worry yourself. I may look old, but there is life in me.”

“Right,” I say, wondering exactly how old she is, but not rude enough to ask.

“Please come bright and early tomorrow morning, if you plan to show. I prefer not to wait. Goodnight, Luna.”

“Goodnight, Madam Treeleaf.”

When I return to the Academy that evening, I sit in the dining hall picking at my food absently with a fork as I write down anything I can remember from the past few hours.

“Luna!” Shouts a voice, across the hall.

I look up reflexively, but turn away quickly, when I realize who it is that’s called me.

“Luna!” Arthur shouts, standing right behind me. “Did you not notice me?”

I flinch, knocking over my cup of water, getting some of it on my tunic as it spills over the edge of the table. He climbs into a bench next to me with a full plate of food, and I watch him with narrowed eyes, as I dab at my tunic with a rag.

“Yes, Arthur?” I try to sound as annoyed as possible, which really isn’t very difficult when conversing with him.

“You’re seriously going to remain upset?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snark. “I suppose I should be grateful for the discomfort you put me through on the last stretch of my trip, then?”

“You have to admit it was better than making that journey alone.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I mumble. “I’ll have to try it in another lifetime.”

“Have you seen Lucien?” He continues, ignoring my obvious annoyance.

“No,” I reply, returning to my meal and notes. “I’d prefer not to see either of you.”

Though I really wish it were Lucien having dinner with me, and not Arthur.

“What’s that you’re working on?” He reaches for my book.

“Something that’s not yours,” I reprimand, threatening to stab him with the nib of my pen.

He leans over, to peer over my shoulder at the pages of my book. I sigh with defeat, and put it away.

“The potions shop?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Why are you writing instructions for a potions shop?”

“Ugh,” I groan. “I got a position to work there so I can pay off my schooling.”

“The one nearby? You sure are diligent, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to tell you where it is so you can show up and annoy me.”

“We can’t all be like you, Arthur,” says Lucien, taking a seat next to me.

I sense another argument, and plan an escape route away from the table.

“Enjoy your dinner,” I say, quickly gathering my belongings so I can leave quickly.

“Stay, Luna, please,” pleads Arthur.

“No, thank you,” my lip curls into a half scowl for a second. “I’d like to enjoy my evening, and it doesn’t involve you.”

“I swear I will not make this evening unpleasant for you,” promises Lucien, tugging at the hem of my tunic lightly. “And I’ll be sure that Arthur does the same.”

I try to come up with a valid excuse to leave, but Lucien’s promise and the soft tone of his voice weakens my resolve. I have no fight left in me, as I’ve already begun to miss the company of others. The other girls in my room are all much younger than me, and have been busy exploring the city. I’ve had no time to do the same due to my search for work.

“Very well,” I say, airily. “But I’m leaving the moment I get annoyed.”

“It won’t take much then, I imagine,” states Arthur, placing his napkin in his lap and picking up his utensil.

“Only with you,” I huff.

“O-Oh, sorry,” he mumbles. “Please give me another chance.”

“He’s been home too long. He keeps forgetting you’re equals here,” Lucien explains, resting one elbow on the table as he eats.

“Do they not teach you manners? How can anyone stand you?” I groan, sitting down, and spreading my things out onto the table.

“Only for…” he looks down at his plate, and eats quietly.

“He’s taught how to treat those above his station. Nobody else is deemed worthy.”

“Really?” Scoffs Arthur, clearly disappointed in Lucien. “You could afford to put it more delicately.”

Lucien ignores him, and takes another bite of his food.

“Then, how did the two of you manage to meet in the first place? Or get to know each other well enough to become friends?” I wonder aloud. “Are you some part of high society?”

“Lucien, I think I’m in love,” Arthur says, looking at me in adoration.

I’m taken aback, and trip over my own feet as I move further away from him.

“Disgusting,” I whisper to myself.

“She’s…” Lucien pauses, and tugs at my sleeve, a gesture for me to take my place at the table. “… observant like you are.”

“It’s refreshing.”

“And without typical restraints.”

“I like it.”

“It’s because you’re both complete strangers,” I cry out, defenseless. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? I told you, I don’t even want to be friends. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Lucien is royalty,” explains Arthur.

“You’re an idiot,” replies Lucien. “I’m not royalty.”

“You’re engaged to royalty perhaps is the better way to put it.”

“Yes,” he says, his statement quickly followed by a flutter of his ears.

“You’re engaged?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“Not exactly,” he states, flinching away from my intense stare. “My grandmother is planning to make an arrangement for it once I complete my studies at the Academy.”

“Wow!” I exclaim, trying to imagine the appearance of the dark elf he’s engaged to. “She must be beyond beautiful!”

“She is… but why would you guess that?”

I open my mouth to speak, but can’t admit that I find him extremely attractive even though he has probably already guessed as much. He’d have to be promised to someone with equal or greater beauty for the marriage to even be considered.

“Why is it when I say that-” Arthur pauses to take another bite of his food. “You always punch my arm, but when Luna says it, you’re nice to her?”

“Luna's much more polite.”

“Ugh,” he scoffs with great annoyance, returning to the piece of bread on his plate.

“What is she like? Is she kind? Is she generous? What is her name? Is it something beautiful like Tigerlily or Elizabeth?”

Arthur lets out an annoyed sigh, putting down his bread, determined not to rejoin the conversation, but failing.

“Lumaria. She’s quite fetching,” replies Arthur, reflexively, then looking away, pretending to be disinterested.

Lucien’s ears twitch, and he glares at Arthur for a quick moment, before looking away.

“She’s very kind, generous, curious, and many other wonderful things,” he stares off into the distance, lost in thought, the expression on his face unreadable, but resembling sadness.

“That sounds wonderful! I hope that one day I can find someone like that,” I say, dreamily.

“No one is that perfect. I’m waiting for the day Lou discovers her flaws,” comments Arthur.

“It’s nice that the two of you are engaged. How did the two of you meet?” I ask, ignoring Arthur’s comments.

“It… was arranged, and we’re not engaged yet,” Lucien mutters. “There’s no meeting, just introductions.”

“Well, at least you like her, it seems.”

“Yes,” he smiles, with a twinkle in his eyes. “She’s a dear friend of mine.”

“I’ve met her, she’s perfect for him,” Arthur informs me.

“So, she’s nothing like you?” I tease, giving him my best toothy grin.

He looks up at me, and a smile spreads slowly across his lips, making me uneasy. I frown at him. Lucien coughs, and clears his throat after taking a drink of his wine.

“Enough about Lucien,” Arthur says, taking over the conversation. “Luna, I feel like I know nothing about you, still. Tell me about your siblings. Are they anything like you? If they are, Lucien would probably like to keep all of you.”

Lucien inhales sharply, looking exhausted as Arthur slowly falls back into his annoying line of questioning.

“They look like me, but they’re not exactly like me. It’s not as if we all think the same way, or live the same lives.”

“Well, go on,” he demands.

“I don’t know if I appreciate your tone, Sir Lynn,” I retort.

“S-Sorry. I’d like to know more about them, if you’re willing to share,” he says, more meekly.

“Solera is very talkative, and could always hold everyone’s attention. Celestia is quiet, and always helpful. I… don’t know what I am.”

“You’re a Mystic, hard-working and… passionate.”

“Arthur,” I gasp, feigning shock. “I didn’t know you could give compliments, especially to someone that’s so far beneath you.”

He gives Lucien a mocking, pained look.

“What?” I ask, nervously.

“It’s nothing. It’s how he both insults and compliments people. He’s going to treat you as a plaything,” Lucien declares.

“I won’t,” he promises, offended.

“I’m not your entertainment, Arthur!”

I get to my feet, gather my things, and walk away.

“I’ve enough entertainment,” Arthur calls across the dining hall. “What I need is someone who can challenge me.”

“I’m not here for that either!” I shout back. “It’s exhausting, and I’m only slightly amused.”

“Luna,” calls Lucien, taking up his things and rushing to my side. “I highly encourage you to continue to follow your instincts. You’re doing an excellent job.”

“Lucien, instinct tells me to also stay away from you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he stops dead in his tracks.

I turn to face him, and give him a wide grin.

“But only when you’re near Arthur,” I say with a wink. “Otherwise, I’d gladly bask in your beauty all the time.”

“L-Luna, don’t…” his cheeks become a darker shade of blue. “Don’t joke like that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I could handle it quite as well as Arthur could.”

“Handle what?”

He stares at me, scanning my face for something unknown.

“Your teasing,” he sighs, defeatedly. “Just enjoy the rest of your evening, and don’t say such things out loud. What would people think about you?”

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a dark elf, Luna.”

“Sorry. I guess you’re right, I guess I should be more careful, but I don’t think I care much about what others would think… Goodnight, Lucien.”