Chương 9: Chapter 7 ~ Like Specters in the Mist

19/10/1111 EotTS, 10: 39 The entrance hall of the Academy was less crowded to-day, but still plenty busy, and of the people that were in the hall, very few were pushing carts and heading towards either of the dormitories; most had simple shoulder-slung sacks, or small satchels, and made their way up the stairs and into the cloister, but this was odd, as classes had not started yet. Lyma was by the board; one could not miss her, as her red hair stood out from the browns and bronzes.

She wore a long, pleated brown skirt, and from the way it hung, the slow, heavy way it shifted with her tapping foot, it was likely wool; atop it she wore a white, cable-knit sweater with the collar of a brown blouse poking up from the neckline. Lyma waved to Gysel, and Gysel hurried over. The man standing next to Lyma was likely the Visi she had mentioned last night. Visi was a tall man, maybe a bit above average, or about a hand taller than Lyma.

His short hair was combed back and fixed in place with pomade, but the luster only helped to accentuate the way his hairline was thinning and receding at the corners, making his pale scalp stand out.

What he lacked (or was in the process of losing) on the top of his head, he made up for on his face, in the form of a magnificent and full beard, that was clearly well-kept, well-groomed, and long enough that it was clear that the moment the first hair sprouted from his chin during adolescence, he decided that he was never going to shave.

Bushy, caterpillar-like eyebrows nearly met in the center of his brow, having been pulled in by an inquisitive scrunch, but the wrinkled skin served as the gap that no leap of faith could ever cross. His deep blue eyes were only made darker by the canopies that sat above them. A navy-blue overcoat was shut tight, only showing the cuffs of matching trousers beneath it, but it did nothing to hide the box-like frame created by his shoulders.

He smelled of aromatic tobacco, a strong bitter tea, and the sweetness that only came from time spent with old books, with a very subtle undertone of ink. As soon as Gysel was in speaking distance, Lyma started to introduce the man she was with the night prior with the same enthusiasm as one of Father's horse-breeding friends talking about his best stallion.

"This is Visokh." Lyma poked him on the cheek.

"You call him Visi." Gysel pointed to herself.

"This is Gysel. You can call her Gysel."

"I've heard, you're the roommate. Lyma told me about you last night." Visi gestured to the board.

"You're also at the top. Good for you." Gysel looked at the board—now where is Visi? not on Operative Alchemy, not on Operative Sigillography, nor Ritual Magick, nor Spiritual Magick, oh, there, fourth place in Philosophy.

"You must read a lot," Gysel said.

"I write a lot too, I actually have a—""Nobody is sure what he writes though," Lyma said, "No one can read it."

"I can read it," answered Visi, "it can also be read in print."

"Please try to make a good first impression."

"I... I am."

"Save the pedant babble for once Gysel gets to know you." Gysel looked over the rest of the categories: Lyma was between forty and fifty in everything besides 'Ritual Magick,' where she was in tenth with three thousand and five points. Her brother was five points below her, in eleventh.

"Right..." Visi kept talking.

"How did you get so high, Gysel?" Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"I did not," Gysel answered, "I am short."

"No, on the board." Visi did not seem fazed by the answering of an identical but different question; he must have realized that he had made the mistake of not using language properly.

"I don't want to be late, so walk and talk," Lyma said, as she started towards the doors; neither Gysel nor Visi answered, but both followed. The large black oak doors had been propped open just as they had been the day prior; the fog beyond the portico grasping at the world inside the entrance hall, seeking to fill a void that it could not exist within, only able to breathe a cold breeze in reminder of its presence.

Lyma, Visi, and Gysel stepped beyond the portico and into the fog: it felt colder to-day than it did yesterday, but the air was wonderful and relaxing to breathe with its petrichor mixing with the smoke of the city. The soft sounds of song birds came from all around, from nests in the high bushes, to the sparrows hopping along the flagstones.

Only the hand statue of the woman clad in ivy and leaves could be seen from beyond the mist; Aeska was making sure she was the only divine woman in the eyes of the people of Thoranyn.

"Oh, I do not know," said Gysel—these two are fast walkers and need to slow down. Lyma looked over her shoulder.

"I told you. She's just here."

"Do you know anyone who teaches here?" Visi asked.

"No," Gysel answered, "I was requested to be here by Professor Hleenska."

"He is the head of Operative Alchemy, right?"

"Yes." Visi tugged on his beard.

"What kind of experience do you have with Operational Alchemy?" Gysel did not get a chance to say anything; Lyma spoke first.

"Save that for when we get everyone so she does not have to answer the same question over and over again."

"Fine, fine." Visi seemed content knowing he would get his answer eventually.

"Who is 'everyone?'" Gysel was struggling to keep up with Lyma and Visi. Lyma looked over her shoulder, slowed her step, and took Visi by the collar, slowing him as well.

"Right now, we are going to Wyohla's house. She lives just down the road."

"Thank you," Gysel said.

"Who is Wyohla?"

"The other girl in our group. She's a first-year student who has been studying Spiritual and Ritual Magick her whole life."

"Second year," Visi corrected.

"If you want to be a pedant," Lyma threw her hands up.

"She should be in her second year, but she did some stuff to drop her scores and has to repeat."

"What did she do?" Gysel asked. Lyma and Visi ducked under the vines hanging down from the arch; Gysel followed their lead even though there was no reason to do so.

"She will have to tell you at some point," Lyma said. Gysel plucked her glasses from her nose, and whipped the condensation from the lenses on her cardigan—hmm... so do not ask what Wyohla did to get held back unless Wyohla brings it up, that is what 'at some point' usually means, or it means expect to never be told.

"I'm sure she will be excited to meet you," Lyma continued.

"She might come off a bit strong, but don't let that scare you; she always means well."

"So who—" Lyma took Gysel by the shoulder; Gysel flinched, but Lyma either did not notice or did not comment. She pointed to two figures in the fog: a man and a woman who were walking on the sidewalk across the street: the man had black hair and was dressed in a long, black overcoat; the woman had long white hair and was dressed in a long white dress, with a white cape wrapped around her.

It was difficult to distinguish any defining features of the two, and it only grew harder as they continued up the hill, for after each coach that passed, obscuring the figures, the fog had taken more of them, until the black and white silhouettes had become nothing more than faint specters in the mist.

"That is the Headmaster and his secretary."

"All right," Gysel said—hopefully, this Headmaster, and this secretary are nicer than the last two.

"Have you met him?" Lyma released Gysel.

"No." Gysel fidgeted with her shoulders; the placement of the cardigan was now uneven, and it needed to be put back in place, for if it was not put back in place, it would be a distraction for the rest of the conversation.

"Was he the one who sent you the letter?" Visi asked.

"No."

"Who did?"

"The head of the Operative Alchemy Department, Myrdrihn Hleenska." Gysel followed as Lyma and Visi turned down a side street leading to a dead-end street lined on both sides with multi-story townhouses, some three-stories, others four. All of the houses had enclosed front yards, some with simple iron fences, others with stone walls and towering hedges.

"Have you spoken to him?"

"No."

"What did the letter say?" Gysel stopped on the sidewalk—what did the letter say again? where is it? it should be in one of the books, it was packed just in case. Lyma and Visi got about twenty meters before noticing that Gysel stopped, and hurried back over to her.

"I do not remember it verbatim," Gysel started, "but it said something like: 'There is nothing I hate to see more than wasted talent, and you have proven yourself to be quite talented in Operative Alchemy. I hope you have improved further since the events that made us aware of you in the last two years or so'—""What were the recent events?" Visi asked.

"Just wait for everyone," Lyma said.

"No more talk about Gysel before coming here until we have everyone." Visi shrugged; maybe he was content with getting his answers later. The three started walking again.