It was a surreal moment to look around the room that was to be his. It was hard not to call it nicer than his room at the Nightlight, but it just didn’t feel right to do so.

There was a bed with a small chest at it’s foot; a wide, flat desk with several drawers and a few shelves above it; a window with a view out over the cliffs; a small closet and a dresser; what Bird assumed to be a kitchen, limited to what looked to be a single burner and a sink with some counter space; and a bathroom with a sink, mirror, toilet, bathtub, and some strange curtain and nozzle sticking out of the wall near the tub.

Outside of the bathroom, everything sort of occupied the same space within the room. It was well designed, Bird supposed, with everything taking up an efficient amount of space without crowding the floor or overlapping. It was definitely compact though, meant to accommodate one person and perhaps entertain a guest or two briefly.

Bird took solace in on particular feature of this room that was perhaps unintended. Since the window was opposite the door, and the window faced the cliffs with no buildings beyond, there was no way to see into the room.

He locked the door and went to the mirror, taking just a moment to slip off the necklace and pull his collar down.

It seemed silly after he had done it, but there had been this abstract fear that he had lost something of himself during the day.

Everything was there. His eyes, his markings, and the mouths on his hands. Bird took off the gloves and let them stretch a little bit. He did his best not to look at his wrists, a little too giddy at the thought of a Weird being in the Academy to let the sight drag him down.

There wasn’t a lot of time though. He allowed himself the moment simply because he didn’t have much on his person to unpack. Two extra sets of clothes that Mono had tailored for him were the main things to put away.

The gloves returned, the collar was fixed, and the necklace slipped back on. Bird looked at himself in the mirror, feeling a little less comfortable. It was still going to take some getting used to.

He grabbed the parcel and dumped it out on the bed, rifling through the various books and bits that came from it. He spotted the key to his room and quickly threw it in his pocket, not wanting to lose track of it. The map was already separated from his journey here, but a light jingling caught his attention as he moved other booklets around. Bird reached in and pulled out a leather coin pouch, wondering how many copper pieces the Academy considered a stipend. To be fair he wasn’t entirely sure what a stipend was, but he guessed it was for supplies. He choked on the next thought as he emptied the pouch into his hand.

Bird hadn’t ever been particularly flush with cash. His childhood had gone by without him seeing more than a handful of copper pieces. His adulthood had been largely funded by odd jobs around the Lowmyre and repair jobs with Foresight, both of which ended up being a handful of coins that were quickly spent on food or tools. The only reason he had been able to keep a roof over his head was performing at the Nightlight, using his voices to sing with different bands and bards. Mono had given him room and board for that service before their friendship had actually begun.

The entire history of needing to barter with skill rather than coin flashed before him as a shower of silver actually spilled over his hand. He rushed to grab them from the bed, dropping to make sure none had rolled under.

Fifty. Fifty silver pieces. That much silver didn’t fully exist in Bird’s mind, even after he finished counting a third time. He knew Goldwind was more affluent than Lowmyre, and perhaps the Academy moreso, but this was bonkers to him. Bird knew there had been the trial of getting through the exam itself, but this felt like a reward just for showing up.

Time in mind, he put five in his pouch and squirreled the rest away in his dresser, under some clothes. He triple checked the door, suddenly much more paranoid about the security of the place.

He turned his attention back to the other things that had come in the parcel. Some of it was simply information about building locations, or where to located certain supplies. There were a few blank journals as well, with a couple of pens to write with. Bird put them to paper, surprised to find they wrote without an inkwell. Maybe they kept the ink inside?

Bird made a point to rifle through the pile a few more times, looking for something more concrete about the rules and regulations of the Academy, or the structure of it all. The more he knew, the more he could avoid doing something stupid and drawing attention to himself. There was nothing that stood out as a particularly comprehensive though. Outside of the mentions of hours of operation and upperclassmen workshops, he couldn’t find anything useful.

If time weren’t pressing on him, he would have dug through the pile a few more times to make sure. As it stood, he had somewhere to be and only a vague idea of how to get there. Bird grabbed the map and took his leave.

***

Dalanth Hall was much easier to find than Bird had suspected. Between looking at the map and just wandering the grounds, he got a good sense of how the Academy attempted to organize itself. That didn’t stop it from nearly being a town unto itself, with all manner of alleys and paths intermixed with courtyards and structures. Luckily it seemed most buildings of importance had unique architecture to differentiate them from what Bird could only assume were more general use structures.

Of course, it also helped that the name was engraved into the stone above the door.

The inside was impressive, and it served to illustrate an aesthetic somewhere between opulence and efficiency. Gold, alabaster, and a deep mahogany wood seemed to comprise the interior chamber, which was built in the fashion of a small lecture hall. Rows of seating faced a steady decline in the room, leading to a flat stage where someone would no doubt address a gathering.

It was less of a guess and more of an observation, because as Bird approached the small group of other new students a door to the side of the stage opened. He rushed to close the gap as two figures emerged.

The first was a woman, tall and lithe in white robes. Her hair was cut into a sharp line near her shoulders, and her eyes seemed to dart across the face of everyone in the room in equal measure. Her ears were tall and pointed, and Bird realized she must have been an elf. Not many lived in Lowmyre though he knew a handful of half-elf Weirds, Foresight being the first to come to mind.

The other was an old man, with short beard as white as his hair. He moved with a certain grace and confidence despite his age, white robes flowing with every step. His face was a weathered thing, with too many creases to see if they were born of a smile or glare.

There was a goldenrod mantle around their shoulders like many of the other robes Bird had seen, but the robes themselves seemed to denote a different status. Each also bore a shining medallion, though Bird couldn’t see them well enough to pick out details.

“Welcome, it is always a pleasure to see so many new faces at these ceremonies.” The old man spoke first, his voice coming out far smoother than Bird would have guessed. “For those of you unfamiliar with the guiding body of the Academy, we are members of the Assembly. Each member is responsible for different areas of function, and many are still active researchers or practitioners; it is entirely possible that your pursuits will lead you to tutelage under one of the Assembly.”

“The Academy has no strictly defined line between what we consider a student and a member of the Academy. As our mission is to continually learn and push the boundaries of knowledge, it should seem counterintuitive to fully designate a person as “finished” with learning.” The woman spoke next, her voice quite melodic. She gestured to her white regalia before continuing. “Members of the Assembly are the only ones who are separated, and only because we have a responsibility to keep the Academy running. It is quite possible to serve any number of functions at the Academy and still be a student or member, however.”

“We begin the welcome by telling you this, because there are few good reasons to assume yourself lesser or greater than another person at the Academy. We are all here for the same reasons, and the same pursuit.”

Bird disagreed with the details of that particular generalization, but the rest of the crowd seemed enraptured by the duo. He was in a room full of Normals, and he had a feeling a sentiment would shift a little if his nature wasn’t hidden.

“I am Archivist Magrona, and this is Coordinator D’Naska.” The elven woman smiled fondly, like this was one of her favorite things to say. “We welcome you to the Goldwind Alchemical Academy, and formally name you students of the alchemical schools of magic.”

There was a strange air of formality to the rest of the event. Strange only because there was an informal undertone that Bird couldn’t quite shake, like not being able to tell when someone was joking.

This was more for the pomp and circumstance than anything particularly important, though Bird couldn’t help but feel his sense of accomplishment somewhat legitimized by the speech. He had gotten to the exam through some level of deceit, but this helped remind him that actually meeting the Academy’s standards had been done with honest effort.

Still, every time one of the two Assembly members spoke of equality and opportunity under the banner of hard work and learning, Bird couldn’t help but mentally add an exception.

For every sentiment of unity, Bird felt just a little more isolated.