The frozen caterpillars had also mysteriously vanished from the refrigerator.

  He sat on his bed as the world spun around him, the mist of his morning delirium thickening into a cloud of confusion quickly broken through by panic.

  He checked again, and his study really was empty; even the vial of condensed ether was gone.

  He checked the fridge, and there was nothing, only a half-empty bottle of wine.

  He rechecked his study, and a single flower petal was on the floorboards.

  He rechecked the fridge and this time found a boot print on the kitchen floor. Checking the study a fourth time, he saw grime on the flower petal, seemingly stepped on.

  Anger, the poisonous kind. It filled every inch of him. Someone wretched, an inglorious scum, had stolen his work!

  What kind of shoes make prints like that?

  Okimoto carefully examined the boot print, comparing it to his shoes to ensure it wasn’t his own. He closed his eyes. No traces of another person’s ether could be seen anywhere. This wasn’t an issue, as many spells could cover a person’s traces like this.

  He got dressed and stormed out of his room with the petal still in hand.

  “Kariggan, let me in this instant!” Odonn Orion, the patriarch of the Orion family, growled, lambasting his son’s door. “What makes you think you can drag our family name through the mud like you did last night. That suit was a gift offered to us by the Helldraggons.”

  Dolly was right beside him, arms crossed.

  The anger on both their faces was but a flame to the bonfire of Okimoto’s rage as he passed them by.

  With thundering feet, he stormed down the stairs and into the lounge.

  “Did you see anything suspicious?” He asked the Dormmaster. “Last night, or early this morning?”

  The Dormmaster shook his polished bald head.

  “What’s the matter?” Leanda asked.

  The other staff members had paused their work to look at him, as if eager for a break from the day's monotony.

  “Did none of you notice anything strange?” Okimoto asked around.

  They all shook their heads.

  The dorm master cleared his throat. “What happened, boy?”

  “My project for the examination was stolen.”

  The dorm master’s eyes widened. “I see, that’s a grave issue then. Try to stay calm, I’ll contact the security team right now to get to the bottom of this. The rest of you get back to cleaning!”

  An entire pissing hour later, the head of campus security, a grey-haired and shaggy old fart named Zenith, came in through the front door, taking cartoonishly long and jagged steps.

  “Lad!” He said, staring down at Okimoto seated on the lounge sofa through his gaping nostrils. “They’ve gone and stolen your project, yes? Right, get up then! Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

  Zenith looked around and tipped his pointed hat to the dorm master.

  Okimoto stood up and led him up to his room.

  “What a bloody mess, did they attack you?”

  Okimoto shook his head and retrieved the flower petal. “There’s a boot print in the kitchen that doesn’t belong to me. I believe the same individual stepped on this flower petal when stealing my project.”

  “Okay, let’s have a look at that.”

  He took the petal from Okimoto and examined it, and after kicking some scattered clothes out of his path, he went to the kitchen and squatted over the print, studying that.

  He said. “It is the same grime, but I can’t tell what kind of boots these were. If you wouldn’t mind, leave the room for a moment, I’m going to perform a classified ritual.”

  Okimoto nodded and left, returning when Zenith asked him to.

  Zenith had moved his mirror from the dresser, leaving it to rest along the windowsill facing the clock that was hung above his door.

  “Watch closely,” Zenith instructed.

  Time began to rewind within the mirror, events replaying in reverse. It sped up, hours going by. His past self slept, then got up, went to the window, lingered by his study, and went outside.

  He anticipated the sight of this bastard’s face. He wondered how this person had come to know about the sprite in the first place, as he told no one about the project he was doing. Had they spied on him? Through the window? Had someone’s attention been captured by his experiment on the willow tree?

  He stroked his chin. Suddenly, Okimoto found that he indeed had enemies, enemies he was now levying accusations against, ascribing motives to.

  His theories weren’t validated when he watched himself come back inside and have a reverse conversation with Kariggan and Dolly.

  His brows furrowed, but then he thought more deeply.

  Countless questions sprouted into possibilities, then countless possibilities were brought into question as he watched an alternate reality unfold after his friends reversed out of his room. Apparently, he had spent the night wanking under his bed sheets. There was no experiment, no newly hatched sprite at all, as if his memories were bollocks.

  Zenith cackled. “Look at that, you're giving the bishop a good old beating for his sins!”

  Okimoto was stone-faced, the man’s laughter bouncing off him.

  “I’m so very sorry.” Zenith insisted. “I understand that this might be a bit embarrassing for you; it’s not right for me to laugh.”

  Laughing off the thief's childish fabrication, Okimoto said. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about; it’s perfectly normal and healthy, right? The real problem is that this never happened. I remember very clearly that I had just finished my project before heading out with Kariggan and Dolly. They’ve somehow altered the ether, filling it with false memories.”

  “I find it a little hard to believe,” Zenith said, “while spells capable of that do exist, it’s unlikely for a random college student to have access to them unless they're affiliated with some nasty people. Going this far to steal a project is a little odd. Might I ask, what exactly was this project of yours?”

  Okimoto sighed. He had no choice but to come clean. “It was an ether sprite capable of fully controlling and transforming magical matter. The flower petal was from the bouquet I bought to feed it.”

  Zenith gasped. “A sprite that can do what? That would be a bloody miracle! How do I know you’re not just having a laugh, lad?”

  Okimoto shook his head. “I can’t blame you for not believing me, since I obviously can’t demonstrate its capabilities to you right now.”

  “If you really were doing something on that scale, then it would make sense for powerful forces to catch wind and take action. If I give you the benefit of the doubt, assume you’re telling the truth. We’ll have to get the authorities involved.”

  Okimoto pointed towards the window and asked. “The ritual you just did. Could you do it again with the willow tree as the focus?”

  Zenith nodded and entered the study, returning with a chair that he placed before the door. He then took the clock from the wall and asked for a hammer and nail.

  Okimoto left his room and returned after a few tedious minutes, having borrowed the requested tools from the staff downstairs. Some other students had noticed him scurrying around, and they lingered by the door watching him.

  “Okimoto?” One boy asked. “Why do you have a hammer and nail with you? What’s this old bloke doing here?”

  Beside him, another cunt giggled. “Probably rushing to finish his project at the last moment, isn’t that right, Okimoto? Always bunking off lectures and skiving when you do attend, this is what you get.”

  “Oi piss off,” Zenith yelled at them. “Mind your own business, won’t you? This is a serious matter, so you’ll get in trouble if you keep being nosy. Get out of here and stop worrying about stuff that has nothing to do with you.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, old fool, we’ll leave.” A girl said, rolling her eyes.

  They did just so, and Okimoto shut the door.

  Zenith hammered the nail to the top of the window frame, then hung the clock on it.

  He then requested that Okimoto leave again so he could do the classified ritual.

  Upon his exit, he saw the students were still lurking in the hallway, as if shareholders in his personal business.

  After three snaps of his fingers, they pulled their investments, vanishing down the stairs.

  He returned when called for, then watched the mirror closely.

  When it rewound to last night, the feats of ether transformation he had performed replayed in reverse. The destruction of the willow tree and Okimoto summoning the flames were clearly shown.

  He looked over at Zenith, whose eyes had almost popped out from the shock.

  “B-bloody hell!” The old man wheezed. “Right, I’m going straight to the hire-ups about this. You really are a spectacular boy. We’ll get the people who did you wrong, trust me. Fostering talent like yours is what we do at this school, and I won’t stand for any in prideful wankers taking advantage of you lot.”

  “Thank you,” Okimoto said, releasing a tired and relieved sigh.

  To think they didn’t plan on him switching the mirror’s perspective, the fools. They obviously didn’t do this kind of thing often.

  Zenith sorted everything back into place, then squatted over the boot print with a sheet of paper he got from the study.

  He began to outline the boot print with an ink pen. “We’ll have to launch a school-wide manhunt and possibly a nationwide one if this doesn’t turn out to be another student. I’ll let the higher-ups know your project got stolen. You’ll be exempt from the examination until we get to the bottom of this.”

  He was gone the next second.

  It was twenty minutes past the eighth hour and the examination was less than two hours away.

  Someone knocked on his door, and he opened it to see Kariggan.

  He was smiling clownishly, as if his father’s visit earlier had never happened. He said, “Good morning, Okimoto. The exams will begin soon. Are you going to reveal that project of yours to us now?”

  “It got stolen,” Okimoto said, steamrolling Kariggan’s grin flat.

  “That’s foul,” He responded after an awkward pause. “Guess that explains why Zenith was here just now. But it’s all sorted, right? He’s just gone to tell the faculty and start an investigation? I’m also guessing you won’t be doing your examination today either?”

  Okimoto nodded and then asked. “Were you serious the other day? Are you really not going to do the exam at all?”

  “No, my thesis should be enough.”

  “You’ll let down a lot of people, especially your family.”

  Kariggan’s mouth twitched, his brows furrowing, “I don’t care. Being a legend and living up to some great legacy. That kind of thing isn’t for someone like me, it’s for people like you, people with real talent.”

  Okimoto gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

  He sighed. “To be honest, I’m jealous.”

  “What?”

  He laughed. “Come, let’s go to campus.”

  When they exited the dorm and entered the embrace of the sun, Kariggan continued, “Every family has an image to it. The helldragons are noble and patriotic, the Anthians are prestigious and altruistic, the Orions are divine and predestined for greatness. I was raised to believe in these ideas unquestioningly. I truly felt the weight my family name carries.”

  “Yeah…” Okimoto hummed. “So why is it that you're jealous of me?”

  A gust of wind swept up their coat tails and flipped the skirt of a nearby staff member. A scream fell from above.

  They looked up, and a boy was trapped in a dwarf tornado, his limbs flapping around as he spun high enough above the ground to break a few bones if he fell.

  “Joyggan?” Kariggan yelled, “What the fuck are you doing? Cut that out before you mess yourself up.” “This is my project!” he shouted back. “It’s a ritual for self-sustaining flight! It obviously still needs some refinement, but I think the arch mages will love what I'm doing so far.”

  The wind stopped abruptly, and he fell, crunching disgustingly on the cobblestone, right in the middle of a parking spot.

  “Sweet Fanny Adams!” Okimoto cried.

  They ran over to see what had become of him.

  Kariggan gasped. “He’s unconscious!”

  “Stay with him; I’ll contact the emergency services," the staff member said, adjusting her skirt before running inside.

  Christopher appeared squatting beside the mangled boy, laughing as he stroked his chin.

  “That’s no good, is it?” The Dormmaster said, frowning as he came out to see what happened.

  They walked along the cobblestone path, amid the trees beside the canal, to get to campus, birds chirping, the smell of summer pollen mingling with the flowers.

  “You don’t have an image to live up to,” Kariggan said, plucking a leaf from a willow tree they passed under. “You don’t have a family history, so nobody expects anything from you.”

  “Don’t be so presumptuous,” Okimoto warned, “clearly they expect things from me if I’m here, being sponsored.”

  “Let me rephrase, I’m jealous of you because you’re pure.”

  “Pure?”

  “You’re not- tainted, like I am.”

  “There you go being all esoteric again.”

  Kariggan laughed. He then gazed up at the sky and spoke solemnly, “Recently, I've come to realise that the world has two sides. On one side, there’s the lie. The pretty little picture painted for us by our upbringing. Ideas like: justice always prevails, be a good person, and good things will come to you, those born with talent are destined for success. The other side is reality, the reality that power and leverage are the real keys to success, the reality that terrible people can snake their way to the top and die happily.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Okimoto couldn’t help but laugh at him. “So you understand that the world is messed up now? Is that why you’re tainted, as you say? If that’s really how you feel, I hate to tell you this, but I’m far from pure. I understand these things very much.”

  Kariggan shook his head. “That’s not exactly it. The issue lies with my family; they're not who they portray themselves to be, and I’m not who they tell you I am. You probably wondered why I’ve acted the way I have these past few years. It’s because the greatness of the Orion family is just another one of the world’s lies, and I couldn’t bring myself to live by it. When I say that you're pure, I mean that you’re not burdened with the weight of a lie on your shoulders.”

  “What exactly is it about your family that makes you feel that way?”

  “I can’t say it.”

  “You can’t? Or do you just not want to?”

  “I actually can’t say it.” He sighed. “I’m ritualistically restricted from revealing certain things to people not trusted by the family. But I feel I’ve displayed my feelings enough for you to get the message. The first thing they tell you about anything is never to be trusted.”

  They were going up a gradient now, the canal sinking away before winding around the side of the main campus. The castle loomed like a watchful parent over the dormitories. As they got closer, it got bigger, towers taller, the exam drawing nearer.

  The towers were dotted with dozens of white-rimmed and patterned windows. A blushing couple chatted up each other, half sitting in one of the open ones.

  Okimoto reflected on his time here, the lessons, the dramas, the pranks, the jarring assignments and their deadlines, the spells, the rituals. Four years of his life, the only four years he could remember, came streaming past and were gone with him through the side entrance.

  “Good morning, boys!” Iomy said, spotting them through the half-opened kitchen door.

  “Good morning.” They both said back jollily, Okimoto slightly less so.

  The tall, freckled girl smiled immaculately, dimples cutting her cheeks.

  A series of aromas blew out from behind her. Exotic meats and quality herbs—the kitchen staff were hard at work, pots dancing on the stoves, shoes clacking musically on the red kitchen tiles, soup bubbling, oil spattering.

  Iomy was the president of the noble maiden sorority. Every year, they helped set up the banquet that followed the exam. Dolly was there, assisting the chef who was an expert hired for this occasion every year. From the looks of it, she was helping him season the horse leg, slapping it up in a green cloud of spices over the preparation table.

  “Aw, look at my darling fiancé go in that adorable apron.” Kariggan gushed.

  “That’s awful,” Iomy said, consoling Okimoto as if he were some pitiful child after he explained his situation to her. He didn’t like talking to her; she was one of those girls whose mouths did the heavy lifting in every conversation, never giving anyone else a chance to speak. He had long learned to just sit quietly and let her do her thing, never catching on to the fact that her words went through one ear and out the other. They sat by a table in the corner of the dining room, staff and more girls from the noble maiden sorority were swirling like a storm around the tables, straightening the table linings, aligning the cutlery, and polishing the floor. The examination was a significant event, not just for the university but for mage society as a whole. It was for students who majored in Magical Innovation, the most glamorous subject at this school.

  One of the requirements to become an archmage was a master’s degree in this subject. It revolved around understanding the fundamentals of independent ritualism, the creation of new spells, and the refinement of existing ones. All prominent mage families would send their most talented children to labour at this subject. Even prominent guilds and the government would send orphans, or children from unfortunate backgrounds, Okimoto being one such example. He didn’t feel too pressed about not being able to do the exam, after all, his project had been stolen, so it wasn’t his fault. What would be more concerning is if whoever stole it were to pass it off as their own achievement. That would send him into a dreadful fury.

  “Joyggan can’t do the exam anymore, you can’t do it, and Kariggan can’t be bothered.” Iomy groaned. “That’s no bloody good, nobody I’m friends with will be taking it. It’s going to be so boring.”

  Though Okinoto wouldn’t be doing the exam today, he was still curious. Aside from himself, there was another prodigy; Odiggan. Despite attending many of the same lectures as him, Okimoto scarcely interacted with the boy. This was because he had skipped a lot of classes, often relying on his natural talent to ace the most difficult and impressive assignments while skipping the rest. This was a deliberate effort to add to his reputation of nonchalance. He had taken this so far it made some professors forget he was even assigned to their lectures. This didn’t get him in trouble, as the assignments he skipped were never mandatory. That was how education worked. It was simply the act of absorbing information and reproducing it. The non-mandatory assignments simply served as a reminder of information already learned. This was useful for most people who needed that kind of thing, not for Okimoto, who had a very special talent for spontaneously solving problems. As for Odiggan, he attended every day, did every assignment, and upheld the values of Geazish nobility.

  “Castria is coming along too,” Iomy said, her words falling on deaf ears. “The four of us are all working together.”

  Odiggan wasn’t exceptionally talented or untalented, nor average. He was above average, or maybe unimpressively impressive was a better way to put it. Not something to scoff at, but Okimoto found that such pseudo-glorious people were, as that term suggested, just not quite good enough to be legendary. Still, he was a person of interest. While such modestly talented people often lacked the daring needed to truly innovate, they could still surprise him from time to time.

  “Things should progress nicely from there on out,” Iomy said. “Considering that my Aunt has a high position in that guild.”

  For some reason, he found himself thinking back to what Kariggan had been yapping on about. He wondered why Kariggan would bother saying all of that if he couldn’t tell him the reason for his familial drama. Perhaps he felt that Okimoto was the only person he could go to in that moment. If the image his family had was fake, then what did that imply about Odiggan? Was Okimoto’s impression of him wrong?

  “Can you believe that?” Iomy cried.

  Okimoto replied. “Wow, that’s crazy!”

  He snapped out of his daze when a storm came their way. Kariggan and Dolly were arguing as they came over from the kitchen.

  “You can’t take anything seriously,” Dolly yelled. “I get that none of this means anything to you, but it means something to me. Why can’t you at least pretend to be respectable for one day?”

  “You’re overreacting. All I did was ask for a piece of cake.”

  “We eat after the exam. After it! Get that through your thick skull. I don’t know why I put up with this.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself, you love my adventurousness, especially in bed.”

  She slapped him.

  “Oh my goodness!” Iomy gasped.

  “What was that for?” Kariggan whined, sitting down at the table.

  Their bickering polluted the table for some time, lasting until the staff and student volunteers had finished setting up everything.

  The exam was less than an hour away now, and Okimoto grew more troubled by the second, wondering when he’d hear back from Zenith or the faculty, which would surely have been informed by now.

  Already, some families had arrived — mothers, fathers, and siblings chatting around the dining hall, their figures intertwined with the bloom of cigarette smoke, words adrift amid the clatter of jewelry and the ruffle of feathered hats and fur coats.

  The helldragons were among them, Kenny tall and cloaked in red, dark curls sweeping up from under his top hat, and his wife Rosilini engulfed in a peacock-feathered dress with her brown hair braided in the traditional Coronatian style. Their eldest son was with them who awkwardly shared Okimoto’s name. He was dressed in all black and looking like a boy version of his father, features simpler, face cleaner.

  Kenny looked over and called out for Dolly, and the other two also looked, all three with a plastic smile.

  Kariggan smiled and waved at them before frowning when his own family distinguished themselves from the crowd of distinguished guests.

  The rage Oddon showed earlier was gone from his cleanly shaven face, masked by a smile he wore like a jester for the crowd and staff. He was arm-in-arm with his wife Zeriapha, glowing Zeriapha, her beauty outshining every other woman in the crowd, dressed in enough gold to destabilize the economy, hair an exotic ash colour and braided into a bouquet of curls and patterns. Kariggan’s two older sisters were hassling the staff for wine; Okimoto couldn’t stand those two Insipid cows. Then there was Odiggan, tall and somewhat scrawny, his eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses and dangling black curls. He looked at Okimoto and Kariggan —or seemed to —then came over to the table yelling, “Brother! Okimoto! Fancy seeing you two here this early. Let me guess, you’re both feeling sentimental because graduation’s around the corner? Of course, it’s no surprise seeing you here early, Iomy, precious little thing.”

  “Hi Odiggan.” Iomy giggled, “You look great in that suit.”

  “You look stunning too, sweetheart.”

  “Aw, thanks.”

  “Kariggan’s looking sharp himself, don’t you think?” Odiggan laughed, “And Okimoto’s outshining us all like always, bloody perfect, isn’t he? Why the long faces? Are you two upset to be going on late summer break soon? Do you love being lectured at by whiny professors that much?

  Kariggan didn’t respond.

  Okimoto didn't either.

  “Well, don’t be too depressed, this is just the end of one school year and the beginning of another. We still have the rest of our educations to look forward to remember?”

  He sat down in the empty seat Dolly left behind, and Kariggan groaned.

  “You bloomed into such a jolly fellow,” Iomy said, beaming. “I remember how shy you used to be when you first started. You couldn’t look anyone in the eye, and you’d go bright red and start stuttering the moment a girl so much as said hello to you.”

  “I have changed a lot. All the attention I got from people finally made me realise that I was an Orion, and should act accordingly.”

  “Oh, you sure do act accordingly,” Kariggan mumbled.

  “Naturally!” Oddigan scoffed. “Y’know, people look up to us. The underclassmen, the masses, the ones not fortunate enough to sit where we are sitting. For their sake, we have to set an example, and for the great men who came before us, it’s our responsibility to carry their legacy across our shoulders. I couldn’t be little Odiggan shying away at the back of the class anymore. Not at all, just like my father, grandfather, and especially my great-grandfather, I had to make my pride known.”

  “Get a load of this guy!” Christopher mocked, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at Odiggan as he squatted atop the table.

  “Hey Odiggan!”

  “There you are!”

  Two of Odiggan’s friends, squat and broad Mansurilla and lanky Salinio, joined them at the table.

  “Honestly, I can’t wait to be done with this place.” Mansurilla declared, before puffing his cigarette.

  “Still upset over Nunalisa, I see.” Salinio laughed.

  “What? No! I don’t care about her anymore.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself.”

  “She was a bitch to me anyway, cutting me off to be monogamous with a high mage twice her age.”

  Odiggan joined in, “Considering who that man is, it makes sense for her to go along with him. It’s just the nature of power.”

  “It’s the nature of bullshit. That selfish Anthian bastard should learn to share like everyone else.”

  Not particularly interested in their personal business, Okimoto tuned out their conversation just as he had done with Iomy earlier. He wondered if he should go visit the faculty himself to ask what progress had been made in finding the thief. He wondered how long it would take before they found them.

  “Problems, problems, problems,” He muttered under his breath.

  “Watch this!” Said Salinio, shooting to his feet. “This is a demonstration of the ritual I perfected for the exam. I’ll need a volunteer.”

  “I’ll do it,” Iomy said, standing up.

  “Good, good, good!” Salinio said, grinning.

  He took her by the hand and spun her around before slapping her on the behind.

  “If you’re ritual doesn’t impress me, I’ll return the favor, upside your fat head.”

  “You'd better watch out, Salinio,” Odiggan said before laughing out loud.

  Okimoto folded his arms and watched them.

  Salinio took her to a nearby door, then opened it for her. “Ladies first.”

  Simultaneously, another door behind them opened. Iomy poking her head through. She came through, and since both the entry and exit door portals faced each other, the image of the table they sat at repeated over and over.

  “What’s so impressive about this?” Kariggan asked, not hiding his condescension. “It’s just a door portal.”

  “No,” Salinio said from the door in front of them all before walking through it to appear behind them.

  He closed the door and then explained. “I managed to simplify the ritual. Notice how I didn’t need to declare where I wanted to go before making the door portal?”

  “So you abstracted the ritual,” Kariggan said.

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s not all that impressive,” Iomy warned.

  “Hold on,” Odiggan said, adjusting his glasses. “How exactly did you abstract it?”

  “Here’s what I did: I took a piece of paper and wrote down all the rooms I’d like to visit and then ate it.”

  “Isn’t this the trick I taught you in your first year?” Kariggan asked, scowling, “I thought you actually had something interesting to show us.”

  “Well, I didn’t, I was actually planning on dropping out a few months ago, but my father beat the bloody piss out of me, mad that he wasted money on my tuition. The only reason I’m still here is so he can get twenty percent of the money back for me attending the exam.”

  Iomy sighed. “I really should beat the bloody piss out of you too, but you’re just not worth it.”

  “To be honest, there’s no point in doing the exam,” Mansurilla said, coughing out a cloud of nicotine. “There’s no point because no one ever passes it. Well, no one that isn’t a flipping genius.”

  “Could you stop whining?” Dolly said, having returned. “An associate’s degree won't magically fall into your lap without hard work.”

  “Exactly!” Iomy said, squinting as she sat back down.

  Zeppe was now here as well, looking awkwardly at Dolly, who had just taken the last seat.

  “Hey, go fetch us something to eat,” Odiggan said.

  Zeppe flinched when he saw him and said hastily. “O-of course!”

  “Stop Zeppe,” Kariggan ordered sharply. “Tell him to fuck off, Zeppe. Say it to his face.”

  “It’s fine.” Zeppe croaked.

  Odiggan looked Zeppe dead in the eye. He was smiling jollily, but his eyes were daring the much smaller young man.

  “Say it.” Kariggan insisted. “He’s not gonna do anything stupid with me and Okimoto right here.”

  As Okimoto wondered why the hell Kariggan was dragging him into this, Zeppe said, “Fuck off.”

  “Such a good little boy, Zeppe,” Solinio said.

  Mansurilla said, “Kariggan, why don’t you throw him a dog treat for being so obedient?”

  Okimoto, Kariggan, Dolly, and Iomy were not friends with these four, and the reasons for that were showing. A thin string of tension hung in the air, threatening to snap at any moment.

  Kariggan slapped his brother upside the head. “Go get it yourself, you lazy cunt.”

  Continuing to smile widely, Odiggan stood up and left with his two friends.

  Zeppe sat down, and they all remained silent.

  Okimoto thought back to the one time he saw Kariggan duel his brother, how he had left Odiggan sprawled over the ground, clothes burnt to a crisp. Kariggan might not have had as good a reputation as his brother, but it was clear that he was superior in terms of combat magic. Which, as far as most mages were concerned (including Okimoto himself), was the most important kind of talent a mage could have.

  The dining hall began to empty, families who had lingered joining the bulk of the crowd in their trek through the hallways.

  Okimoto stood up before announcing, “I'm going to speak with the Headmaster. I'll reunite with the rest of you at the exam.”

  “Don't be too long,” Kariggan said, “we'll be sitting at the same spot we watched last year's exam from.”

  “Don't stress yourself out too much,” Iomy said, smiling. “I'm sure they'll do their best to improve your situation.”

  “Did something happen?” Dolly asked. “Okimoto, wait, what's wrong?”

  “Don't hold him up, I'll explain,” Iomy said.

  Okimoto approached the door behind them and said, “Headmaster’s office.”

  He entered the top floor of the third tower, where, through a window to his left, he saw the city now in the light of day, far beneath and splattered in a collage of modern and old architecture. He saw the canals, boats tiny and creeping along through the city like mites. He saw the railways, some looping around to the harbor and others converging at Union Station. He had seen this sight many times over the past four years.

  A photo hung above the window. It was one of the Headmaster’s younger years, then a young, dark-haired, silver-eyed professor, smiling while surrounded by students now graduated and gone to who knows where and doing who knows what.

  The door to the office creaked open.

  “Okimoto?” The Headmaster said, now old and hunched as if struggling to hold up the weight of his pointed hat.

  “Good morning, Headmaster. Are you feeling okay today?” Okimoto smiled and then went serious, “The project I had been working on for the exam was stolen. I'm assuming Zenith has informed you?”

  “G-good morning lad, I’m fine, and n-n-n-no, he has not informed me of any such thing.” He said. He then adjusted his glasses and mumbled a few curses. “I can't believe I haven't been informed of such a thing. When did you tell him?”

  “He investigated my room over an hour ago.”

  “Blimey! Why didn't he tell me? The blasted examination’s in half an hour, and I've got to give a pissing speech. Oh sod it! I ain't got the bloody time for this, I can't stand these random disturbances; it's bad for my blood pressure.”

  “Don't worry, darling, I'll do the speech for you.” His wife, Professor Loria, said, emerging from the door behind him.

  “Thank you, love. Hopefully, this won't take too long, and you won't have to.”

  “Hello, Professor Loria!” Okimoto greeted with a smile.

  “Hello, Okimoto. Gorgeous lad.”

  “You’re the gorgeous one, young lady,” Okimoto said, “how are you feeling today? Is your back alright?”

  “It’s fine, love, bless you for asking.”

  “Oi, watch out, pretty boy, that’s my wife you're talking to.” The Headmaster laughed. “I'm warning you, if you take her off my hands, you’ll be in for one hell of a headache. It’s best to spare yourself.”

  She whacked him on the bottom with her walking stick. “Shut up.”

  “Ouch! Come here, you little-“

  Giggling, the old lady ran back into the office surprisingly quickly.

  “Come, boy,” the Headmaster ordered, stepping to the door Okimoto had just come in through. “I don't know what's going on. These are some serious mages that we got on the security team. We pay these blokes too much and I won't stand for them not taking their job seriously.”

  He grabbed the doorknob. “The security team’s office.”

  “We ain’t seen Zenith ever since the boy’s Dormmaster called him over.” The mage, stationed behind the counter, explained as he fiddled with a pen. “Why? Did something happen?”

  “May the gods be bloody merciful.”

  “Calm down, Headmaster sir, just tell me what the problem is, and I'll get right to it.”

  “This boy here’s just come to me asking about his stolen project. Zenith was sent to help him, and now he's fallen off the bloody planet is what it looks like. We need to go find him right this instant.”

  “No worries.”

  The Headmaster went with the mage through a door behind the counter.

  Okimoto sat on the leather couch, waiting. Historically, as well as in the present, there were rarely any incidents requiring the security team’s attention, and that showed in how the mage had been kicking up his feet when they arrived.

  The security office was a simple house in the center of the school grounds. The interior was like a winter lodge. The stench of coffee hung thickly in the air; there was a cup still steaming on the counter, tea biscuits arranged around it.

  What the hell happened to Zenith?

  In his mind, he replayed the words that had been exchanged between them. He also thought about the thief.

  Only now did the real direness of his situation start to sink in.

  “Is it finally registering now? I told you this would happen, didn’t I? Now that all hell is starting to break loose, what will you do?”

  Where the mage had been sitting previously, Christopher now sat kicking his feet up in the same way. He was reading a newspaper, some nonsense about the untapped potential of nuclear power on the front cover.

  Okimoto didn’t respond.

  Christopher continued. “If I were you, I’d consider the possibility that the thief is another student. One that intends to pass off your creation as their own.”

  “That’s not possible, I’d be able to expose them on the spot. They’d be thick in the head to try such a thing.”

  “But they are stupid, we established that when the boot print was discovered. This person had access to high-level rituals but was too impulsive and jumpy to cover all their tracks. Criminals like those scum mages from last night have enough experience and sense not to make such mistakes; a student doesn’t. The thief is a student of moderate talent, backed by a powerful group, most likely a noble family.”

  Okimoto was silent once more.

  “Be sharp,” Christopher said, tapping his forehead twice. “Spectate the examination. You’ll see someone display the sprite as their own. When this happens, I’ll appear to you again, and you must follow my instructions. Do not act rashly.”

  And then he was gone.