“What?!” Bird had finally found a use for all the adrenaline that his anxieties had been providing. His pace almost outstripped his guide’s as they drove forward. “I thought it didn’t start until midday!”

“No, the exam starts at midday! You gotta be here before that!”

Had sheer energy of the moment been lower, Bird would have felt sorry for the man behind the desk as he and Clyde burst through the door. The momentum nearly carried them over the desk.

“I’m here for the exam!” Bird shouted, gasping for air immediately after.

“Alright, that’s fine. You still have… oh, dear me.” The attendant glanced at the clock and jumped a little. He stood up from behind the desk, producing a few sheets of parchment. As the attendant dug through a drawer behind the counter for a pen, Bird watched him start sweeping crumbs from his vest. Returning with a pen in hand, he looked to Bird rather conspiratorially. “You’re technically a minute late. That said, if you hadn’t come in I might have been quite late to deliver these papers to the proctors.”

“So I can still register?”

“We’ll just say that a passerby spilled something on your first application, and you’ll forget I lost track of my lunch break.” His goatee was well groomed, and it exaggerated his facial expressions in a charming way. Leaning in, he added, “What’s the matter with being a few minutes late when it means fresh talent for the Academy, eh?”

“Right, thank you!” Bird turned his eyes down to the parchment and almost immediately paled at the amount of information seemed to be required.

He began with the most basic areas, filling in his name. His age. Height and weight were a little hazier. The next few items were straightforward descriptors of his appearance, but beyond that things began getting more complicated. Maybe not for most people, but Bird was working with a mostly fabricated persona.

His face must have betrayed his concern, because Clyde seemed to notice.

“You alright there Bird? Lookin’ paler than the archway.”

“How much of this is necessary?” Bird swallowed hard as the attendant looked at how little he had filled out on the page. “I, uh, I just mean I don’t want to keep us here too long and this is-”

“It’s a tad excessive, yes. Don’t worry.” Bird jumped as the attendant reached out, index finger glowing a light yellow. He hovered over the page and dragged a line through the air, leaving a lingering trail of yellow that highlighted a section. He repeated it a few times, marking only a handful of places on the first page and none on the second. “There, just fill out those sections.”

“That’s… it?” Bird looked between the papers and the man, trying to figure out why all the other questions even existed if that’s all they needed. The trails hummed very faintly as well.

“That is what’s strictly necessary. I would request that you return to fill out the rest of the information when you are able. Even if it’s just to say “not applicable”.” He let a bit of an exasperated sigh out, shaking his head, “I swear the forms were designed by someone who had never filled one out.”

That made things easier. Bird dove back into the paper, a lot more confident in providing the basic information it needed. Many of the later questions got into specifics like next of kin, family lineage, and several other pieces that Bird didn’t want to improvise answers to on the fly.

Name, Felix Barda.

Age, Twenty-Five.

Height, six feet, one inch.

Weight, Ten-and-a-half stone.

Sex, Male.

Hair, blonde.

Eyes, Blue.

Alchemical Foreknowledge, practical

Alchemical Specialization, undecided

Bird darted through the page, filling out everything as quickly as legibility would allow. There was even less required than he had thought a moment ago. The matter of current residence stopped him, though it seemed luck was still on his side when the desk attendant saw the pause.

“Do you have a residence in Goldwind or will you be staying in the dormitory at the Academy?”

“I don’t have anywhere in Goldwind, how do I get into the dormitory?”

“You just check this box here, under- yes, there. I do wish they would make that section a little clearer.”

“And that’s all I need to fill out?” Bird cautiously put the pen down, not believing that was all.

“If you are accepted into the Academy, you’ll be required to return here to add an image to your file. Outside of that, you have provided the basic information.” The attendant took the parchment from the desk and bound the sheets with a metal clip before adding it to a small stack. A moment was spent tapping the stack against the desk to neaten it. He spoke absently while gathering a few other odds and ends, “There is plenty of information we like to have. The only things that are required are your name and a physical description.”

“Why the long form if that’s all you need?”

“Well you didn’t hear it from me, but I suspect it’s mostly noble families trying to brag on official records. There are blessedly few files that need to be maintained like this, but all of them are built to accommodate whatever extreme circumstances a given family wants to boast of. I mean,” And he pointed to a space labeled Heir Status, “This sort of information applies to a handful of people, and they’re likely the only ones who care.”

“More or less.” Clyde chimed in, checking his pocket watch again. Bird could see more than just time displayed on it, but it was meaningless without context. “I’ve gotta run. Supposed to be installing some parts before the next lecture.”

“Thank you for your help Clyde. I don’t think I would’ve made it here in time on my own.” Bird offered his hand with a smile and Clyde matched both gestures.

“Just remember to breathe. If they let me in, you oughta be fine. I’ll see you around Bird.”

Clyde left, picking up the pace when he checked his watch again. The attendant looked to the papers and then cocked a brow towards the remaining man.

“Bird?”

“It’s, uh. It’s a nickname.”

“Ah. I recommend introducing yourself as Felix to the Proctors. They’ll be going off the papers, you see.” He finally stepped around the desk, files in hand. “Come along. I’ll lead you to the examination room.”

Bird legitimately didn’t know if he needed to be worried at this point. Everything that had been giving him anxiety since the inception of this plan had turned out to be straightforward and simple. The deadline was unforeseen, and cut closer than Bird would have liked, but it had worked out.

It made him a little nervous that the exam would be unexpectedly nightmarish. If everything concerning had turned out simple, it stood to some cruel reasoning that reverse was true.

The hall they were walking down made almost any sound echo loudly. Bird tried to convince himself that was the truth, and that the staccato he heard was their footsteps instead of his heartbeat.