To Director Wiosenne,

I thank you for your letter regarding my student, Kyle, as well as the prospective student. It is with utmost regret that I must inform you of Kyle’s expulsion from the Academy. It is unfortunate that a young boy of such promising talent cannot further his studies due to inability to follow foundational rules. I wish him the best in finding a new path upon which he may flourish and contribute greatly to our harmonious society.

As for the younger child, whom I understand you would introduce as Ladd Korr, the resulting penalty will be the same. Since he had not yet been admitted to the Academy, we will take administrative leave to adapt the legislature in place, and ban him from admission in th-

The ink on the letter ran as water droplets fell onto the page. The Academy Director, Dr. Margarette Tunée, looked up at the ceiling of her office, then wondered why she had thought it could possibly be raining indoors.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Margarette swung her head to the source of the warbled voice and laid her eyes on a devastatingly handsome work of art. Silver hair flowed in waves, past slender shoulders that were often underestimated on their sheer strength. Elegant fingers rested on toned arms – he had crossed them over each other. The man’s legs were distracting; they seemed to go on forever, like a river that could only end in the ocean. However, the most striking feature was undoubtedly his face. Silver-blue eyes that reminded one of sinking into a lake under the bright moonlight, pale lips disappearing into blended shadows under his sharp nose, and ripples-

Ripples?

Margarette scrutinized the image in front of her, but the effect on his skin could only be described as watery. It was like the light in the room was refracting on his face. How could that be? And the voice earlier – now that she thought about it, why was it like that? Like it was speaking through bubbles?

Margarette felt a pressure overwhelming her senses and took a few deep breaths to check that she was not, in fact, underwater. When she looked at him again, she noticed he was leaning on a bookcase and gazing into her... what, her soul? She clutched at the collar of her shirt, feeling too seen. Blood flushed her cheeks, and the man smirked.

“Are you wet?”

“What?” She yelled, indignant.

He nodded at the top of her desk. “The water. Did it get you?”

“Oh.” Margarette smoothed locks of hair that never fell out of place anyway, and straightened clothes that were perfectly set. She didn’t know what to do with her hands after that.

The man stepped away from shelves and sauntered to the guest chairs, gesturing for her to sit across from him. The Director took her seat and cleared her throat.

“You should rewrite the letter.” The man beat her to it.

“Why?”

“You can’t stop him from attending.”

“Of course, I ca-”

“Or rather, it would be a mistake to do so.”

“That matters not. He broke the rules-”

“How so?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What did the boy do that warrants admission barring?’

“He used magic.”

“Yes?”

“Outside the school.”

“Well, he can’t have been inside. You haven’t brought him here yet.”

“The law states-”

“Yes?”

“You must stop interrupting.”

The man smiled. Margarette glanced at him warily.

“The law states,” she paused to make sure he would stay quiet before finishing the sentence. “...that any student caught practicing Magic out of the Academy will be penalized, with a minimum of expulsion and up to incarceration.”

The smile grew. “Yes, and?”

“And they used magic-”

“Margarette.”

“Director,” she corrected him.

“Margarette.”

“Or doctor, you may choose one of the two.”

The smile finally dropped. “The law is for students, Margarette.”

“Yes, and if Mister Korr were to be enrolled in the Academy, that would make him a student with an unlawful transgression. Barring him makes it so that he does not have to be imprisoned.”

“Or expelled.”

“... What are you suggesting? Do you want me to admit him, only to expel him? You would have me waste everyone’s time-”

“I don’t think you understand, Margarette. He didn’t break any laws. He is not a student.”

“Sir-”

“You say that you are adapting the legislature, but to what end? The boy has done nothing wrong.”

“Sir!”

“Go on.”

“Do you know why the law is in place?”

He cocked an eyebrow. Or something like that. “Do you?"

Margarette checked her building rage. “The Academy’s job is to teach the young and reckless how to curb their power. Even if they graduate at different paces, we use the law to ensure that the mages are not out rampaging before we can be certain they have full control over their capacities.”

“So, you do.”

“It’s dangerous for everyone, including and especially themselves, to have them practicing magic as they please. They need supervision.”

“And?”

“And the only way children can be safely made to listen is by convincing them that disobedience is far from their interests. They need fear of consequence.”

“I fear you miss the point, Margarette.”

“Meaning?”

“If we are to keep the children safe, they need to be supervised. That is what you said just now, was it not?”

It finally dawned on the Director how backwards her thought process had been. She glared at the man who had made her put up her defenses, only to be right in the end.

The man read her gaze. “I see that you understand me. I will bother you no more.” He stood to leave the room.

“Wait, please.”

He towered over her desk, but he didn’t move.

“What about the older boy, Kyle?”

“I am not involved in his story.”

“You don’t mind if I expel him?”

“It is the law.” He looked pensive. “Although, if the law is meant to protect the children, it should not yield these resolutions.”

“Right, though there is also the problem of their kinship.”

“Excuse me?” The man sat down.

“The two boys are the closest of friends, so Sylvie writes. If I know anything about children, it is their sense of comradery. Expulsion of one will likely lead to the other deciding to abandon schooling as well.”

The man chuckled. “So, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I...”

“You should appeal to the Sovereign.”

“Do you suggest dismantling the law?” Margarette was incredulous.

“No, there is an easier fix. Amend a threshold.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“The law is meant to protect the citizens from harm. Introduce a harm threshold.”

Margarette stood quickly and slapped a hand on her desk.

“By the Powers...!”

“Now, now. Don’t swear, Margarette.”

“I apologize. I just... cannot believe something so simple had never been thought of before.”

“Well, he is a special kid. Creates special problems.”

Margarette gave him a serious look. “Indeed. Thank you, si-”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t solved your issue.”

“I haven’t?”

“The school year begins in three weeks. An appeal will take longer than that, and a correction even more so.”

Margarette slumped into her seat.

“I cannot simply break the rules so publicly, can I?”

“That’s up to you.”

Margarette groaned. “I can’t. I can’t abuse power like that. The Tribes trust us to direct the institutions in fairness.”

“The Tribes? Are you saying one of the Tribes told you that you may not make exceptions?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then what if one did, to make such exceptions.”

“...Huh?”

“What if a Tribe ordered you to let the boys study at the Academy despite their actions last week?”

“Why, of course I would. One does not disobey the Tribes.”

“Then, there you have it.”

“I have what, sir?”

“Ah, do you not recognize me?”

“...Are... you saying what I think you are saying? Sir.”

The man smiled, and Margarette mentally smacked herself for having missed something so obvious.

“Alright. Which Tribe are you from? I’ll have to make record of this.”

“You misunderstand. I am not from a Tribe.”

“...What?” Margarette’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

The man splashed her with a cold, clear wave in response.

“The Tribe is from me.”

The man vanished from sight. Aghast, Margarette tried to collect her thoughts. A Water mage... the Tribe came from him? Is- Is he one of the Beasts? But he didn’t smell anything like a fish... Does that mean he is the Tree?

The Tree himself came to ensure this child’s admission?

Huh? Just how special is this kid?

Margarette shivered and looked down at her clothes sticking to her body. So, she had gotten wet after all. The Water he sent her way had drenched every layer of fabric, and it felt like she had been soaked down to the bone. No, even deeper than that.

She laughed. 

Sylvie Wiosenne opened the mail packet addressed to her from Doctor Tunée. She braced herself for the worst.

To Director Wiosenne,

I am beside myself with happiness to have the privilege to impart wonderful news regarding your last correspondence. The Powers smile upon your charges.

While I was in the process of administering the legislature to the circumstance, a Beast visited my office and redirected the outcome of the adaptation. I will be brief: I was reminded that the laws are in place to keep all safe, and that entails monitoring the children while they learn to use their strengths. I was advised to request an appeal from the Sovereign to amend a threshold by which to measure the extent of damage caused by out-of-school Magic practicing.

As you are well aware, the school year begins in twenty days from the date of this letter. This creates a rather urgent requirement for exception to several currently withstanding guidelines. I am hesitant to make such allowances on my own, so I rely solely on the discretion of the Beast. The Master of Water has personally intervened on the children’s behalf. I am not privy to his reasoning, though I might guess it is something to do with the astounding talent you mentioned in your report.

I am most pleased to invite the two Water mages, Kyle the orphan and Ladd Korr, to join the students of the Academy in their honorable endeavors.

I look forward to our next exchange.

Warm wishes to you and yours, including all who reside at the Orphanage.

Signed,

Director Margarette Tunée, Doctorate.

Sylvie shook with tears as she read and didn’t finish before running off to find the boys. She should give them extra dessert to celebrate their fates.