This was the first time that Bird had seen any part of Goldwind during the day, and it was hard not to be impressed.

He had snuck up the cliff the night before and a handful of times as a child, but those were short and dangerous excursions. A mistake or delay on those trips had meant a solid beating when he was a kid. A slip-up in the previous night’s venture would have ended in as much only if he were lucky.

Bird had heard some of the opinions and theories on why the Normals didn’t like the Weirds, but in the end the only thing that mattered was the distrust and what it made people do. A Weird walking around after dark was just assumed to be doing something unlawful or nefarious.

Bird mellowed his excitement with that particular trail of thought. The streets were clean, the people seemed happy, the buildings had fresh paint, and the air smelled almost sweet up here. He could hear the whirr of alchemical contraptions in many of the buildings he passed, and even caught a glimpse of a few through open windows. Some looked sort of familiar, and many were alien to him. Goldwind was a beautiful city, and part of it just made him nervous.

People talked to each other, sometimes stopping and sometimes shouting as they moved. Bird saw cross sections of a community that didn’t seem all that different from Lowmyre. It made him a little more paranoid, wondering if a baker or artisan would be the one to start a mob if the necklace failed or his collar dropped just enough.

Then Bird stopped for a moment, stunned. There was a Weird here, buying some bread not twenty feet from him.

She couldn’t have been much older than Bird, and she almost looked Normal. The black markings peeking out of her sleeves and the just-a-little-too-pointed fingernails made it clear as day to him though. It was subtle Weirdness, but it was there.

There wasn’t a mob. No torches or pitchforks. For a second he wondered if there had been some grievous misunderstanding in the Lowmyre. He watched for a second longer.

There was no conversation, no haggling. The baker addressed her flatly, gave a price, and she paid. When she walked, no one stopped her to converse. Bird watched her go, a frown twitching under his gloves as he heard the baker sell another loaf for less.

Tolerated. The word was bitter, but better than the concept of guilty by default. Bird wondered if it was bad to find some comfort in that. He wondered if tolerated was even the right word.

A terrible perk of hearing like Bird’s was having certain questions answered. Usually without him wanting the answer and usually without the person knowing he could hear it. Most of the time it was never meant for him anyway.

Even over the din of the city he could catch most of the scraps that followed in the Weird woman’s wake.

Remarks about watching her ilk for tricks. Getting them out of your business before they stole something. Unkind words about her fingernails and patterns. Everything that wasn’t inherently just an insult was a joke at her expense.

“She’s lived over on Edge Row since she was a girl. Hasn’t bothered anyone.”

A single vote of confidence carried faintly over the din as he walked away. A pinprick of good in what was shaping up to be overwhelmingly negative. The retort following that was about what he expected, but the one was enough for now. It meant not everything up here was inherently against Weirds, even if most things were.

***

Bird half-hoped to see more Weirds on his way to the Academy. Only half because if anyone would be able to guess he was a Weird, it would undoubtedly be another Weird.

The further he got from Lowmyre, the more he realized he just wasn’t going to see any. The valley was behind him as he walked towards the high spires that were undoubtedly the Academy, and he doubted a Weird was going to be able to live anywhere but near the edge.

Goldwind had been built on a plateau that jutted out of the south side of a mountain range; it was picturesque, with most of the edges transitioning straight into cliffs save for a couple of winding paths up. Those had been turned into gatehouses, further defining the separation Bird knew they wanted from Lowmyre in the valley at the cliff’s base. They had even built the bridges to go right over it.

He passed through an intersection of streets and saw a round, flat stone placed at the center, perhaps waist high. In passing Bird realized it was a map of the city.

There were no street names to help him, but he guessed the small blue glass bead on one intersection was this stone’s location. It meant he was right, the Academy was placed on the edge of the plateau opposite of Lowmyre. At least, where Lowmyre was supposed to be; it wasn’t included on this map.

Bird opted to not worry about that now. The panic starting to settle in outweighed the indignation. What was or wasn’t on this map didn’t matter for shit when he was about five minutes away from something this important. He had one chance.

The buildings that he saw had certainly been less residential as had come upon the waystone, but it was almost like a switch had been flipped once he was on the other side. Shops lined the streets, each providing something the others didn’t and everything a new sight for Bird. It wasn’t until he passed an apothecary that he realized these were all either selling alchemical ingredients or the products of alchemy.

There was a shop with all manner of small constructs and parts for sale. There was another selling different arcane components. Another still sold strange, gleaming gems. He even spied a blacksmith hammering away down an alley, selling their wares on the main street. Each weapon was masterfully crafted, ranging from daggers to axes to small spellguns. There were holes in every implement at seemingly specific intervals, and Bird couldn’t have guessed their purpose if he had the day to spend on it.

There was a small flow of people milling towards the Academy with him, but it was impossible to tell who actually had the same destination. They would join in, walking with purpose, only to peel off and prove that purpose to be some kind of esoteric shopping list. It made Bird feel like he was standing out, which was exactly what he didn’t want to do.

He was also starting to see a pattern. Maroon robes with a goldenrod mantle appeared in greater and greater numbers as the alabaster gate of the Academy came into view. There were minor deviations in the apparel, perhaps of some significance unknown to him, but the majority seemed the same.

Many lacked sleeves and instead sported tall holes, stretching from shoulder to nearly the waist. Bird couldn’t see a pattern in what was worn below those robes, or even if one was supposed to wear it open or closed. In almost any other circumstance a display of individualism against a uniform would have interested him, but right now it was compounding onto his nervousness. He had to fit in, and this was making it difficult.

He could clearly see beyond the arch that led to the sprawling academy grounds, and the maroon robes were everywhere beyond it. But there was no pattern to them that he could discern. There was no way to figure out what was normal.

The feeling of wool between his teeth alerted him to the nervous chewing a few seconds after he would have liked it to. His left hand had opened just a little and was nervously nipping at the glove from the inside.

Bird glanced around as he stopped doing it, making sure no one had noticed. He was so sure someone had noticed. It was his palms though. Nobody looks at palms. But he couldn’t tell how far the mouth had pulled the cloth in. He couldn’t look to see if there was a hole. If someone had seen his hand do something, and then saw him look, they would know! He-

“Hey. Excuse me, sir?”

Fuck. Bird’s mind skipped straight over only having a partial meltdown and went straight to the nightmare scenario. In the process of being shunted back to reality he realized that the arch was behind him and that he was already inside the Academy.

He turned to face the voice, doing his best not to look like a rat caught in the pantry. It was a tall man, maybe a head above Bird. Ginger hair, brown eyes, and wilder sideburns than Bird would have ever dared to put on such a young face. There was a small bit of his left eyebrow missing, and under his leather apron was a maroon tunic.

“You alright?” The man asked, looking Bird over. His voice was a bit of an easy drawl, but there was some concern in it.

“Y-yeah.” Bird took everything in the moment to mean he’d been discovered and that he needed to bail.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, but you don’t look it.”

“Oh, uh.” Panic was Bird’s least favorite thing. He was a Weird that could mimic sound, and prided himself on having snappy one-liners ready most of the time. Panic rendered him either silent or totally inept at speaking, and he hated it because there was no situation made better for it. “The, the uh, Academy.”

“Well, yeah you’re at the Academy. You lookin’ for someone?” He was about to say something else, but a realization dawned on his face and he laughed. “Oh, you must be lookin’ to join, right?”

“Yeah.” Bird let out a sigh. Maybe paranoia was just paranoia.

“Whole thing’s gotcha nervous?” Bird nodded the affirmative, and the man chuckled again. “I don’t mean to laugh, but it’s sorta nice to see this from the other side. When I showed up I felt ready to keel over. You know where ya need to go?”

“Er, no.” There was another spike in panic, but the guy seemed amicable at least. This was as good a place as any to start planting backstory. Simple, vague, don’t embellish. He thought. “First time in Goldwind, actually. I’m a little turned around.”

Bird felt like he was speaking a little too properly. A little too stiffly.

“Ah, well then I guess that makes me the welcoming committee. Name’s Clyde.” The ginger extended a hand. Bird made his hand’s mouth as tight lipped as he could, shaking the hand and hoping it felt normal enough. Thrash had helped him figure out the trick was just balancing the tension across his hand so the entire grip was firm.

If anything, Bird felt a little more comfortable in that moment. Maybe keeping up the ruse could be more relaxed that he anticipated. As long as he didn’t slip up, this would be okay.

“Nice to meet you, Clyde. I’m Bird.”

Fuck.

“Bird?” Clyde asked, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. He thought that one over for a moment while remaining blissfully unaware of the internal screaming Bird was experiencing. “Nice name, can’t say I’ve heard it before. That a nickname?”

“Yes!” Bird stifled his relief enough that could come across as more nervous energy. Well, it was nervous energy. “My name is Felix, but that’s always felt a little formal.”

To his surprise, Clyde smiled wider and nodded also understanding.

“I’ve got a friend you might get along with. She’s wasn’t a huge fan of her name so she prefers going by something else. I’ll introduce you to her later, start getting you some friends here.” Clyde clapped him on the shoulder.

“I think I need to get accepted first, don’t I?” Bird didn’t actually know what this entrance exam was, so that might have been a dumb question. Clyde looked confused for a second and Bird wondered if it was. Then it was like a lightbulb came on.

“Oh hell, right! We need to get you to the exam don’t we?” Bird heard the remark Clyde made under his breath about getting ahead of himself again. “Alright, so the Academy’s a pretty big place. You’ll get the full tour when you get in, but there’s a building over yonder with a blue tile roof, y’see?”

“There?”

“Yeah. Just go in there an’ tell the attendant you’re here for the entrance exam. They’ll tell you where it’s set up this season.”

“Where has it been before? I was expecting a bigger crowd.” That building wasn’t especially large and Bird really didn’t see many people walking around without some kind of maroon. It was hard not to guess those were the robes of students, or at least indicated some affiliation.

“Usually happens in that building behind the blue one, but they’ll file people through differently from year to year.” Clyde rubbed his chin for a moment, looking around. He pulled something out of his pocket and flipped it open. Bird swore he heard a clock ticking as it was opened, but there was a softer whirring that he could hear under that. “Ah, alright. That makes more sense.”

“What does?”

“I’ll explain on the way, come on!” Clyde grabbed Bird’s arm and pulled him into a run, speeding across the courtyard. Their feet struck cobbles and grass with equal abandon, and Bird was less than comfortable with the attention this drew until Clyde spoke again, “They’re closing the registration in about two minutes!”