Chương 94: 161 - Guest Lecture

Why are half of the Institute's Grand Magi showing up? Xavier thought faintly. I assumed this wasn't going to be that big of a deal. He had arrived early out of a healthy sense of self-preservation, but he'd figured this guest-speaker lesson couldn't be anything too crazy. There were a limited number of seats, apparently, and random third-years wouldn't get invited to events of real importance. No matter who his sister was. Or rather, who she was apprenticed to. And yet there's Instructor Gehring.

And Instructor Mulder. And, yep, that's Archmage Theophania coming around the corner. The half-elf had her nose stuck in a journal, and Xavier watched as she almost collided with three separate people on the short trip over. She absentmindedly apologized to each, yet refused to stop scribbling notes or glance up for so much as a second. He'd heard of the woman's eccentricity, but he'd never met her. The eldest Archmage of the Institute didn't teach regular classes.

She did take on apprentices at times, but otherwise she was a full-time researcher. Most Grand Magi studied under her after graduation for some period of time. What am I doing in a lesson that Archmage Theophania herself is attending? he thought, dismay rising. He could hope that the woman's presence was symbolic, but she wasn't someone who showed up for symbolic purposes. He hardly ever saw her, even during graduation ceremonies.

He'd been told his attendance today was optional, which had been yet another misleading signal that had made him lower his guard. Thankfully, he had enough common sense to know that optional didn't mean optional, not as a third-year student. Besides, he'd have been stupid to turn down the chance to listen to a guest lecturer, no matter who it was. He didn't have the same burning ambition that he saw in some of his classmates, but neither was he some layabout. Nobody at the Institute was. Or could be.

Standards were grueling. Even geniuses couldn't afford to be lazy—they just had some extra breathing room.

"You're staring, dweeb," a familiar voice said behind him, causing him to twitch. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Tatiana striding up.

"Staring's always rude, but it's especially dumb when it's an Archmage you're ogling. She can fry you with a thought." Xavier gave his sister an annoyed look. She was in her usual robes, the same uniform they all wore, including the Grand Magi. A few key accents around her wrists and lapel—light purple—indicated she was in her sixth year. They contrasted with Xavier's third-year dull green.

"I wasn't staring," he said, a hint defensive. Maybe he had been. Archmage Theophania was interesting for a lot of reasons. Archmage, half-elf, reclusive, and apparently here. About to sit in on the same lesson he'd been bewilderingly invited to.

"And she wouldn't do that. Archmage Theophania is really nice."

"How would you know?" He briefly wasn't sure how to respond.

"It's… well, everyone knows that's true." All of the Institute's archmages were intimidating simply because of their rank, sure, but where Aeris was grandfatherly yet a little scary anyway, and Lysander was… well, Xavier would do anything possible to avoid speaking with the headmaster… Theophania was apparently nothing like the other two. A description he'd heard used but would never repeat aloud was sweet and ditzy— a label that felt wrong to apply to an archmage.

"Careful with the so-called wisdom of the crowd," Tatiana warned dryly, reaching out to try to ruffle his hair. He dodged away before she could.

"Or taking reputation as fact. She's seen her fair share of blood, all of 'em have. Can't make real progress without it." He knew that; he wasn't a child. He'd been on several Institute-mandated hunting expeditions of his own.

"Still," he said.

"I wasn't staring." She rolled her eyes.

"Why are there so many Grand Magi here?" he asked.

"Before the doors are even open?" He had come early because he was on the bottom of the totem pole and wouldn't risk annoying anyone, but that didn't apply to the majority of faces he saw. There were other lower-year students, but not many. If Grand Magi—and Archmage Theophania—felt the need to be punctual, what did that say about the guest speaker? His older sister didn't answer him; she only smirked.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"I could find out now, if you just told me."

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Because it's funnier seeing you squirm. Obviously."

"Does Archmage Aeris know he's teaching a bully?"" Archmage Aeris is always lecturing about how humanity is going soft. He'd approve of me toughening you up a bit." She poked him on the cheek, and he swatted her hand away.

"Which this barely counts as, dork. Relax, I just wanna see your reaction."

"My reaction to what?"

"You'll see." He sighed.

"So everyone else does know what's going on."

"Yep." He had figured as much. The Grand Magi firstly wouldn't have shown up so early and secondly would have looked annoyed if they didn't know who they were waiting for. So of those in attendance, he was uniquely uninformed. Thanks, Tatiana. Having an important older sister came with perks, but also plenty of downsides. Though the latter might just be her in particular. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

"I'm only here because of you, then," he guessed, not that it needed clarifying at this point.

"Yep. Asked Master Aeris to get you in." At least she was honest. Mildly put off, he muttered, "Always about who you know, not what you know."

"Only reason I'm here is also because of Master Aeris," she pointed out.

"That's how the world works, don't get all angsty about it."

"I'm not getting angsty," he protested. He shook his head, not letting himself get baited.

"I'm surprised you got me a spot. This seems important."

"There were openings for all years, so it wasn't that big of an ask. Part of the point, I guess, is to see how different levels of mages understand the concepts she's going to show off." She? Female lecturer then, he thought. Not that the reveal told him much. The other tidbit was interesting too. There weren't many ideas that a Grand Magus wouldn't instantly comprehend better than an apprentice. Why invite lower years?

He might have thought on that topic deeper, but his attention was seized by a pair of newcomers turning the corner. Red hair and blonde. Familiar faces—one a current classmate, the other a previous. Saffra and Isabella. It wasn't the first time Xavier had seen the redheaded beastkin. He'd caught a glimpse of her in the library a week ago and had nearly tripped and fallen into a bookshelf. He'd wondered if he was imagining things and had only barely kept himself from stalking her around.

Then he'd spotted her again later, and with Isabella accompanying her. Chatting like nothing had happened. Even more of a shock, considering how those two girls had left off. Since then, he'd been hearing all kinds of rumors. Well, even more of them. Isabella had been the subject of gossip for a while now. The Caldimores were the talk of the month… or year… or century. It wasn't every day a well-respected ducal family imploded in such a manner, nearly bringing about the end of the world.

Not that she could be blamed for any of that. Indeed, that seemed to be the official stance. Which wasn't to say some of the families—particularly the ones affected by Caldimore's insanity—were on especially friendly terms with the heiress. Isabella was handling the situation as gracefully as she could. The girls were bickering as they strode forward, an image that would have seemed mundane a year ago, and yet also an image he'd never imagined he would see again.

Isabella had accused Saffra of assault and gotten her expelled, which was obviously a friendship-ending debacle no matter how it shook out. And yet here they were, apparently friends again. Closer than before, from the looks of it. How in the world does that happen?

"You've got a thing for staring today, don't you?" He flushed as he realized that his sister was right—he'd cut off to watch the pair, probably with a deeply furrowed brow. He was pretty sure Tatiana had said something to him and he'd ignored her.

"Are you blushing?" she asked, suddenly delighted. Her gaze flicked between him and the two other teenagers.

"Is that how it is?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"I had no idea." A smirk threatened to creep onto her lips, and he could tell she was teasing more than being serious.

"Obviously not," he huffed.

"I'm just surprised."

"By how cute she is? Which one?"

"What is wrong with you?" he hissed, looking around—not that anyone was paying attention. He hadn't expected her to be so blunt. Then again, when had Tatiana been one for subtlety?

"We were classmates, so of course I'm curious why she's not just un-expelled, but somehow friends with the person who accused her in the first place." The intrigue was hardly his alone. Saffra was the talk of their year, her situation second only to Isabella's. Although very few people had been confident enough to approach her. From what he'd heard, the beastkin only appeared sporadically, either in the library or sometimes walking around with Isabella.

"So it's not a crush?" Tatiana asked, sounding almost disappointed. He couldn't tell how much was an act to mess with him.

"Here I thought you were finally growing up." As a matter of fact, he did have a crush, but it wasn't on anyone in this hallway. His interrogator would need to drag out a torture device or two for him to admit such, though. Tatiana was already insufferable at times.

"I barely know them," he said.

"We shared a few classes, we weren't friends." A sour tinge leaked into his tone, which he regretted.

"Top performers usually stay in their own bubbles." Tatiana paused. She clearly didn't know how to respond to that, and he winced. There wasn't much a talented person could say to an untalented one to make them feel better, especially when the two people in question were family. I'm not even untalented. I'm average. At the Thaumaturgical Institute. Which means better than almost everyone else my age. Easy to know, hard to internalize.

Not just because of the quality of his peers, but because his older sister had been apprenticed to Archmage Aeris himself. The Guardian Sage only took on the most promising of students. Less than one per school year. Xavier might have qualified for the Institute, and that automatically made him an elite of sorts, but his sister was an elite of those elites. There could be oceans between tiers of mages—even a third-year knew that.

"You're doing great," Tatiana eventually said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. This time, he didn't pay enough attention to dodge.

"Stop stressing so much about grades. It's bad for your health." She glanced over to the two girls again.

"Let's go talk to them." The transition was abrupt enough that he didn't immediately understand, and then his wrist was snatched up and he was being hauled off. Toward Saffra and Isabella. By instinct, he tried to squirm away—but Tatiana didn't budge, or maybe even notice. Stupid mithril-rank stats. She wasn't rough with how she towed him along, but neither did her grip yield. Mind blanking out, he failed to form a proper protest. Then they arrived, with Isabella and Saffra's argument cutting off.

They blinked at the older girl who had led the charge.

"Hey," Tatiana said casually.

"I figured you'd be here, but wasn't sure. Nice to see you again. This is my brother, Xavier. I think you have"—her eyes slid to Saffra—"or had classes with him?" Their caught-off-guard expressions turned to him next. Xavier might not have a crush on either, but Isabella was former high nobility, and he felt guilty, ashamed, and a mix of other emotions relating to not just Saffra but both of them, all resulting in a situation too complex for him to immediately know how to navigate.

So his mouth worked without words for several seconds too long. Tatiana, like all big sisters everywhere, had absolutely zero sympathy. She patted his shoulder and said, "He's awkward around girls. Don't think too badly of him, please." If nothing else, the words snapped him back to reality.

"You're annoying, you know that?" He gave her an aggrieved look and stepped sideways to make space.

"Um. Sorry," he told Saffra.

"I'm glad you're not banned from the Institute anymore. I'm not prying into your circumstances, I just, uh. Wanted to say that, I guess." He would've elaborated, but how could he, when he didn't know what was going on with her? But he felt guilty about the expulsion—for how his gut had told him something was fishy, yet he'd never spoken out about it, except to Tatiana. Saffra seemed bewildered by Xavier's opening, which was fair. Not exactly a typical casual greeting. Eventually, she said, "Uh, thanks.

Hardly your fault, though, and it…" She hesitated, then shrugged.

"And it worked out in the end." He itched to know what had worked out and how, but he'd said he wasn't prying and had meant it. The two of them hadn't even been friends; they'd spoken maybe a handful of times. To his relief, the incoming awkwardness was prevented by the door to the lecture hall swinging open. The mage in charge—yet another Grand Magus, he noted—seemed surprised by how many people were standing outside. Everyone had arrived with more than enough time to spare.

The man paused momentarily, then propped the door open and waved them in. Xavier waited his turn, obviously letting the higher-rank mages filter inside first. Most other students did the same; there were a lot of full magi in attendance. About to get some answers, he thought, anticipation growing. Seriously, what kind of lesson do a dozen Grand Magi show up for?