It wasn’t long until the other three students bumbled into the room, laughing among themselves. The glint of a metal flask reflecting the setting sun caught my eye as it was hurriedly passed to the tallest student standing in the middle. His dull black eyes met mine as he shushed the other two. My eyes were drawn to the splattering of dark freckles across his tawny beige face.

“Here’s the fourth. You’re the Malher student, huh?” His lips curled with disdain. “You know my grandmother journeyed through the Malhelar Region several years ago. Never reached the Sunfield Province, and her body was never found. They say cannibals got her.”

Silence filled the room as I stared down my new roommate. His eyes were locked on mine, challenging me. I drew in a slow and steady breath to quiet my thoughts. Every instinct I had told me to run from confrontation. Yet this was the time to ignore my father’s voice in my head, to fight the instincts I been taught, and become my own person.

“I am from Malhelar, from the Sisao Outpost. My name is Atlas.” My voice faltered, before I cleared my throat and continued, “I don’t know what stories you’ve heard, but we are neither cannibals nor savages.”

“Sisao? Never heard of it. Do they teach you anything there, or just let you roam around with the packs of Volpen?” He spoke haughtily as he nonchalantly pulled out the flask and took a sip, no longer looking at me. He was seemingly done with the conversation. 

“Um, I’m Norako. I’m also not a cannibal.” The boy on the right spoke up after a moment, and was answered with a snort from the tall one. Norako’s soft green eyes seemed more sincere, and was complimented by a bright smile. He reached forward to offer a handshake. My hand met his soft, rich bronze skin with a gentle grip.

He motioned to the grandmotherless, middle roommate. “This is Mikal,”

He then motioned to the boy on the left, a shorter scrawny boy with a tawny olive complexion and tightly coiled copper hair. “And that’s Josue.”

I nodded, and mumbled a greeting to both.

“You want any melomel? There’s only a sip.” Josue asked, looking in my direction. The semi-glazed hazel eyes told me he was likely the primary reason for the nearly dry flask. His offer got him a gentle elbow to the ribs from Mikal. “What, it’s almost gone anyways!”

Mikal rolled his eyes and wordlessly sauntered to his bed to begin unpacking. The other two followed suit, with an apologetic shrug from Norako.

I laid down on my bed and watched the daylight slowly shift, as the three other students unpacked and bantered quietly among themselves with occasionally stifled snorts.

Eventually, Norako and Josue left to shower, leaving Mikal in his chair across the room, reading intently. The air seemed to thicken, and I fidgeted restlessly. Taking advantage of the nearly empty room, I quietly rolled out of bed and slipped into more comfortable nightclothes.

Laying back down, I closed my eyes as if I were asleep. Even after the other two returned, however, the silence kept me awake. Even as the last lanterns were extinguished and a cool nighttime wind swept the room, I lay still with eyes closed and mind wandering. It wasn’t until a gentle snore filled the room that I felt myself suddenly relax, and my mind began to crave sleep.

***

I am standing in my parent’s house, looking up at my father towering in front of me in the kitchen. His mouth is moving but I cannot hear any words. My mother drifts through the background holding something. Or nothing. The room bends as my father turns and disappears.

And suddenly, I am in the garden holding a woven basket. I look down, and see that I’m a child. Which would be strange, but I’ve been here before and I know what is going to happen next. I move towards the inevitable as I methodically examine the fantastical plants in neat lines. These are nothing like the plants I am used to in Sisao, but perhaps that’s to be expected.

Vines from the twisting plants pull at me as I move down the line, grabbing colorful fruit that seems to jump out of reach as soon as I close my fingers. And then the undeniable sound of a wild Volpen shrieking cuts through the air, far too close.

As I turn my head, I spot the red fur and tail swishing in the air. Playfully at first. Then slowly the animal begins to walk towards me, crouching low on all four paws, piercing eyes fixed on mine. Blood dripping from its mouth. And from its eyes. Teeth bared only a few paces away, as I stumble backwards, tripping over my feet and tumbling to the ground. The fear is written plainly on my face, and the Volpen lunges.

It was much smaller back then, but now… here… It looms over me menacingly as it’s pointed teeth sink into my right arm and its head whips back and forth violently. I open my mouth to scream, and a whimper comes out.

My left hand is grabbing at its snout desperately, pushing and pulling at ears and eyes. Tears are welling in my eyes, and I’m hyperventilating. My eyes dart around in search of help, or a weapon, or an escape.

Until suddenly time slows, and the ripping at my flesh stops. As my eyes are drawn by a soft glow, my gaze is soon transfixed on my illuminated left hand.

A million stars dance just beneath my skin, swirling around my hand in enchanting galaxies. As my heartbeat thuds in my ears, the stars begin my move lazily towards my fingers, migrating towards the points my skin is in contact with the Volpen.

My breathing slows. Tiny pinpricks of black, iridescent liquid surfaces from the tips of my fingers. The liquid moves as if alive, spreading across the Volpen’s face. The creature stops moving, more, and more rapidly becoming a shimmering black statue frozen in front of me.

The liquid is now dripping from my hand, a steady stream of divine intervention that balances the worryingly steady stream of blood dripping from my right arm. Both drops splattering and staining my legs and the ground under me.

The entire Volpen is now encased and lifeless. The motionless animal is almost… beautiful, as light shimmers off the hardened fur. I look into the black eyes of my attacker and feel a pang of guilt surface in the sea of fear and pain. How…?

With the threat now over, the black liquid slows to a lazy drip, and then stops entirely. I pull my bloody arm free and hold it close to my chest as I break out in sobs, no longer able to control myself.

And I am being held by my mother, and my arm is being wrapped in a bandage by my father. And everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay… until…

Until the scared looks they try to hide when I am around. Until I am forbidden from speaking of this. Until I realize I am not normal, I am not welcome, I am-

***

I am in my bed in the dormitory as a beam of light pierces my eye in a blinding wake-up call...

 My memories slowly drifted away as the swell of residual panic subsided. My eyes opened to my roommates preparing for the first day of classes; as I sat up, I noticed the room was already missing Mikal.

A week had passed since orientation, intended as a time to settle into our new home. For me, the time was spent acclimating to my room, as I had barely left with the exception of food, bathroom, and showers. The others were thankfully more social, leaving me to enjoy the solitude of reading and preparing for classes.

In the distance, a bell chimed twice; the last warning before the final, single chime that would signify the start of class. I would have just enough time to get into my uniform and make myself presentable.

As my feet met the cold floor tiles, the musty smell of damp stone crept into my nose. It was a distinct smell that suggested that it had rained last night. A cool breeze drifted in through the open window, as I began to pick up my uniform that I had laid out the night before.

On top of the pile was a plain white, soft linen dress shirt that I quickly slipped on. Next were the dark black, pleated dress pants. As I buttoned the pants and tightened the accompanying belt, I marveled at how formal I already felt. This was by far the nicest outfit I had ever worn.

Over the white shirt went a double-breasted, dark olive green vest. The vest had six bronze buttons between the matching pockets. Around my neck, I tied the slim, stone-brown tie and tucked it into my vest.

I quickly slipped on the tan socks and black dress shoes, before picking up the slim fitting, midnight black blazer. Similarly to the vest, it was double-breasted with four bronze buttons, complete with red stitching.

My gaze traveled over the single breast pocket, holding my schedule and assorted noted I had compiled to help with my first day, sitting next to the shawl lapels around the collar. As I pulled the blazer over my shoulders, I buttoned the two buttons on each sleeve and nervously smoothed the double vent in the back and the front of the blazer to make sure everything was in place.

All three of my roommates had left in their identical uniforms already, giving me a moment to look myself up and down. Then quickly gather my books and rush out the door.

I hurried down the corridor, turning quickly to fly up the stairs to the first floor. My first class, World History, was mercifully close to the stairwell. As I scurried along, I noticed the halls were nearly empty save for a few fellow stragglers. I took that as a sign to scurry faster.

As I ducked into Professor Willard’s classroom, the final bell chimed once with finality. Keeping my head down, I held my breath and silently slid into an empty seat towards the back. As I gently brought the class assigned texts to a rest on my new desk, I glanced up to see Professor Willard staring at me with silent disapproval. I smiled back weakly.

“Now that we are all here, welcome to World History. As you all should know by now, my name is Professor Willard. This is an introductory course that will cover the basic history of not only our continent; but also both Wensulo Island and Perdita Island, the Suprin Region, and even the Fundan Kingdom. Next year, you will all have the pleasure of receiving an even deeper education on World History in my Second Year class. Beyond that year, you will still not be rid of me as I also teach the Third Year Darkeep Regional History. As such, I recommend paying attention and not getting on my bad side.”

As she spoke, she stood and turned to face the wall behind her, pulling down a world map, before turning back to the class and starting to pace in-front of the classroom. She was a short and slender woman, with cool, deep amber skin and enigmatic, dark brown eyes that matched her shorter, pin-straight hair.

“Get familiar with this map! You will find it among your assigned texts. We will be referencing numerous locations while we cover the Forgotten Age, the Golden Century, and even the relatively recent reign of Seinhart. You will be expected to know your way around this map as we discuss specific dates and the individuals involved in each period and in each location. Questions as of now?”

After a brief respite and a silent response from the class, Professor Willard continued.

“As it is the first day of classes, and you are likely to find your subsequent professors less forgiving, we will start off the class in a fun, simple exercise to practice your knowledge while learning the names of your fellow classmates. First, form four groups of three, then introduce yourself, and finally quiz each other on the names of each country and corresponding capital city. Please feel free to indulge in small talk, however I’d recommend  you take this opportunity to study seriously.”

I turned to the two closest students; one stranger behind me, and one familiar face to the left.

“Good morning, Atlas.” Kirura flashed me a smile, and then turned for the third student behind us to introduce herself.

“Oh, you two know each other? Okay then, well my name is Kaia.” She glanced between the two of us expectantly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Atlas.”

“Yes, I know.” Her eyebrow raised as a tiny smirk found its way to her face.

“And I am Kirura.” He turned to face me, a smile back on his face and nearly as bright. I glanced at Kaia to see her eyes linger on Kirura’s face, then snap to me.

“Great, introductions out of the way. Atlas, you’re from Malhelar right? Is it too easy to quiz you on the Malhelar region’s capital then?” Her head tilted to the side, waiting for my reply.

“Um... don’t you need to get the map out to check my answer?” I ventured hesitantly. I had never handled rhetorical questions all that gracefully before, and by the way her smirk slowly disappeared from her face... this was no exception.

“I have an actually expansive education on geography, so no. I don’t need the map to check your answer, because that’s a pretty basic one.” She rolled her eyes as I tried to interject.

“No, it’s not-“

“Okay, Kirura then. Darkeep Region’s capital city.”

“Maros City.” He droned as if recited. He glanced at her for a second as she tried to continue.

“Great, how about Sunfield Pr-“

“Ugh, capitals are boring.” Now it was Kirura that rolled his eyes, then grinned conspiratorially at me. “How about... favorite places we’ve been? I bet you’ve never been as far south as Atlas has been, and there must be some fascinating spots.”

Now both faces were turned towards me, waiting for me to speak up. I hesitated, trying to examine each of their expressions.

“Honestly... I think the Institute is amazing, even if there are some great spots fro-“ I was drowned out by Kaia’s groans.

“See? He’s never been anywhere. They live in shacks and ruins down there.” She was turned fully towards Kirura now, not sparing me another glance.

“Seriously? We’re in World History right now, and what region has more history than Malhelar? The ruins are cool.” As he spoke, he glanced at me and silently prompted me to continue.

“Um, yeah. We live in actual houses, grow our own food, learn in schools, and we don’t eat people.” The words forced themselves out of my mouth, hushed but more angry than I had intended. Kaia’s eyebrows shot up incredulously, and she actually hesitated for a second before being interrupted.

“I know I encouraged small talk, but your group seems quite a bit off topic. Unless you are all quite confident in your geography?” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I shot up in my chair. I didn’t dare to look at Professor Willard, my face almost certainly already turning a rosy crimson and quite warm. Instead, I let my head droop in shame.

“I am so sorry Professor, we do still have some gaps in our knowledge.” I didn’t miss the subtle glance towards me as Kaia spoke up, “So we will get right back on topic.”

“Perfect.” As she walked past, I cautioned a glace at Willard with a sheepish grin. Yet her attention was already on the next group.

***

Bonus Layout of the Institute (First Floor)!