TempestDerg

"It’s still nothing to scoff at," Carlton replies, and I almost want to scoff at that. "Neither is the fact that students are coming out of your class better-prepared than any other secondary program on the continent. Do you know how many attempts to poach you I’ve had to fend off?"

"Dozens of letters a day, I’m sure," I wave him off. "And you know it’s not a competition to me. I don’t care about the other schools; I care that I’m bringing my students to their fullest potential. Something that reflects poorly on me if they don’t reach that point."

"Fair enough," he concedes, before burning his tongue on his own tea and playing it off in hopes I won’t notice. "Clearly you had at least one student who did, though."

I hide a soft smile with a sigh. A full week has passed since Selin’s demonstration, and thinking about it still fills me with a swirl of varied emotions. Of course, I’m not at all surprised that he’d bring it up.

"Selin Lettea’s ritual work was the best I’ve seen in two decades of teaching, and that includes the other faculty as well as almost all of my own work," I state, without exaggeration. "Not only that, but she demonstrated levels of professionalism, tenacity, and adaptation I’ve been forced to learn are too much to ask from seasoned court magicians, let alone students. I fully believe the grade is justified."

"And I’m not saying I don’t believe you!" he reassures me. "But a full twenty percent on top of a perfect score, for an end-of-semester project? I think I can count on two hands the number of perfect evaluations I’ve seen you give out, let alone greater than perfect. I know better than to suggest it’s solely because she’s one of your mentees, but please, I’d love to be enlightened."

I slump in that horrendous yellow chair, just barely, but I’m sure Carlton picks up on it.

"There were… extenuating circumstances at play."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t speak. I sigh again, genuinely this time.

"In my eyes, Selin earned perfect marks from the very beginning, flawlessly executing her ritual as designed and correcting the induced errors almost as soon as I made them. I wouldn’t call the ritual itself groundbreaking by any means, but it shows a comprehensive understanding of the principles I taught as well as a knack for efficient and reproducible design, even without taking into account the constraints of the situation."

"Constraints?"

"Apparently," I start, then pause to take another sip of tea, "she has mana instability as well."

The second eyebrow joins the first, turning from questioning encouragement to surprise. As was the case with his predecessor, I’ve had to paint a slightly different picture of my identity with Headmaster Abernanth than I do with the rest of the faculty. Nothing explicit, of course, but over the centuries you pick up a thing or two about misdirection. In this case, the occasional offhand comment or reaction that implies I had a much more direct involvement with the Abrestan-Junal War some two decades ago now than the average noblewoman would have at the time. Pair that with the fact that Leora of Afton, frontline combatant for Abresta and one of the most notorious sorceresses in the continent, disappeared close to the end of the conflict after very publicly taking a curse to the chest, and you have a simple little deception that makes people think they’re so clever for figuring me out and neatly cuts off any further curiosity right there.

The fact that Leora was really just a way for me to express my criticisms of the Junal ruling class in a somewhat constructive manner makes the whole thing a bit easier to sell.

"And no, I don’t know the cause, though I sincerely doubt it’s the same reason as mine," I lie, preempting the natural follow-up question. "It could be entirely natural for her, for all I know. But because I didn’t know about it, I failed to account for it, and due to no fault of her own, the ritual failed. She remade it perfectly, then tried again. And again. It was only on the twenty-third attempt that I identified what was happening and fixed the issue. In my eyes, the level of dedication and perseverance she expressed in spite of what was happening is nothing short of astounding. If that grade isn’t deserved, then clearly I should be failing all my other students for their relative performance."

"No, no, I’m not pushing back," Carlton assures me, then drinks, finally satisfied with the temperature. "Based on what you’ve told me, she sounds like one of the most promising students of the year. Do you know if she’s planning to specialize? Those results would certainly suggest a promising future in ritual work."

"Not yet, but…" I hesitate. I know this is the right call, but that still doesn’t prevent voicing it from making me feel oddly… vulnerable, in a way? "I was thinking of offering her an actual apprenticeship. Holistic."

"Really?" he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Which I can’t blame him for; I haven’t ever shown an inclination to take someone on in that capacity. "Full-time?"

"Goddess no. At least, not during the school year. If she didn’t keep her studies well-rounded I’d fail her myself. But I see potential in her, and I plan on making sure it becomes fully actualized."

I’m almost mildly surprised to realize I’m telling the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but even discounting Selin’s nature, there’s a chance I might have decided to make this offer anyway. Isn’t that a thought.

The conversation winds down with a much briefer discussion of the results some of my other students managed to achieve, and finally I am freed from that awful room with its awful furniture. With classes over and final examinations winding down, the academy halls carry a much more relaxed atmosphere than the weeks prior. Students making preparations to head home, celebrating (or lamenting) grades, and generally enjoying the figurative weight off their shoulders. My own schedule for the immediate future is much more self-directed, but it's not yet time for me to fully relax. I’ve got centuries to do that, and a hatchling to teach right now.

Selin is, as requested, waiting for me when I get back to my rooms. I haven’t actually seen the girl since her final project a week ago, distance I imposed myself in an attempt to at least try to get her to focus on the rest of her finals rather than the newfound revelations of that day. A somewhat futile attempt, of course, even with threatening to wipe her memories of the entire examination if she were to not perform up to the standards I know she’s capable of. Still, from what I’ve heard from the rest of the staff, she’s performed admirably. All for the best, I suppose, since my experience in mental magic is barely more than theoretical and I would never actually think to take this away from her, no matter what her results were.

"I hope you two are ready to get out of here, because I am in desperate need of fresh air," I declare as soon as I walk in, breaking Selin and Ember from their conversation. "Ember, is everything packed?"

"Yes, my lady!" she chirps, holding up a picnic basket.

"Okay, that answers one question," Selin comments, "but also hi, hello, I’m still not entirely sure what it is we’re doing today?"

"Picnic lunch," I say. "To celebrate the end of a very eventful semester, or, well, the very eventful end of a semester. Because I think we all need some time to unwind, and I’d rather have the discussions we’re going to have away from others."

The promise of a discussion seems to placate her for now, her eyes sparkling like they did a week ago when I gave her that massive gemstone from my hoard. The felt bag that went with it now rests on her hip, tied to her belt, bulging with the rough-cut corundum inside. It’s probably a bit awkward to carry around like that, but I could never fault her for doing so. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before she’s fully comfortable with letting her small hoard out of her sight. I know it took me a good amount of time, at least.

"Right, then," I continue. "Did you have breakfast?"

"Um, a bit, yeah?"

"Clear your lungs, take a deep breath, and hold it," I instruct, striding forward to place a hand on Ember’s shoulder and Selin’s sternum. "Ready? Three, two, one."

Despite her visible confusion, Selin does as I ask and inhales, just in time for me to pulse a bit of magic through her torso, paralyzing her diaphragm, intestinal, and abdominal muscles. Her eyes barely have time to widen before I force us all through space, bringing them both with me through a teleport not quite so long-distance as the trip to my cave. It’s over in an instant, and I move both my hands to catch Selin under the arms, taking the weight off her buckling legs while her body tries to process what the hell just happened. She entirely fails to vomit, because I know what I’m doing, thank you very much, and I restore control to her after only a few seconds. She immediately exhales and takes a big, shuddering gulp of air, then another, while I wait patiently for her to recover.

"W-what the hell?" she finally manages to say.

"Teleportation," I state. "We’re about two days’ trek east. I like to get out of the city for an afternoon sometimes, and this is a rather good spot to do it."

"Is it always this bad?" Selin asks, to which I shake my head.

"First time’s the worst," I tell her. "It only gets better from here, once your body gets more familiar with the sensation. It’ll also be vastly smoother when you’re the one doing it yourself. Are you alright?"

"I will be," she says, taking deliberate, measured breaths. "Maybe a little warning next time, please?"

"Once you’ve learned not to tense up."

Selin recovers remarkably quickly and I let go of her once she seems to be able to balance. Ember, having been fine after only a couple of seconds, gives her a once-over and a flask of water, which she downs rather quickly. Only then does Selin actually take a look around at our surroundings.

"Woah. You… were not kidding."

The meadow the three of us are standing in is rather idyllic, in my opinion. It’s absolutely blanketed in wildflowers, which gives the incredibly fresh air a pleasant floral note. The temperature is perfect too, helped by the fact that we’re far into the middle of a mountain range here and the early spring heat is cut down by a bit. And, as best as I’ve been able to identify during my trips here, there isn’t a trace of civilization around for miles. A wonderful location for a picnic.

Laying out a blanket and getting things unpacked is quick work with six hands helping, and once I’m sitting down I close my eyes and finally, finally let myself relax a bit. A lot, actually. Even with all my experience, both with teaching and beyond it, there’s no easy way to just magically block all the stress that naturally builds up over the course of a semester from getting to you. I’ve looked, but it doesn’t exist. Not unless you’re willing to get pretty far deep into mind-altering substances, and that’s a bit much for my tastes. No, even though I love teaching, there’s a reason I look forward to breaks. This particular summer might be a good bit different from the others, but I have a feeling it’ll be rejuvenating in its own way.

"Professor?"

I tilt my head up and open my eyes, looking at Selin. She’s looking back at me with a slightly hesitant expression, and uses one hand to gesture to her cheek.

"You’ve got a…"

I lift up a hand to touch my own face, and… oh. Ha. Well, there’s a reason I normally don’t let myself feel this loose around others. Glancing over at Ember, I see she’s barely managing to hold in a giggle, impertinent creature that she is.

"Nothing you haven’t seen before," I say, leaning back again and gazing up at the sky. Giving my body a bit more mental slack, consciously this time, the smattering of scales that had slipped onto my face bloom into patches, not fully covering me but enough to ease some of the barely noticeable tension that lives in the back of my head whenever I’m keeping to a human form. "A consequence of letting myself enjoy the environment, so to speak. Not usually a problem, but just something to keep in mind depending on the current company at the time."

"Ah," Selin responds succinctly. She doesn’t say more, but I can feel the unspoken questions anyway. Well, no point in delaying.

"Alright," I say, pushing myself all the way back up to a sitting position and facing her, a slight smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Be honest. How much time did you spend reading about us while you should have been studying?"

"That’s… a subjective measure," she answers, affronted. I say nothing. "But… maybe six hours?"

I raise a ridged eyebrow. Selin squirms.

"Okay, more like… twelve-ish. But it’s fine, I had to take breaks from studying anyway, and Professor Aldebaran literally had us make sleep-substitution potions as the last assignment before finals."

"Which I tell her is a horrible idea every year, and yet here we are," I say, pinching the bridge of nose to disguise itching it. Letting my scales come in leisurely like this is nice, but they have a tendency to tingle. "But I digress. I wish you hadn’t, but unfortunately I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, were I in your position. What have you gotten through so far? I’m very familiar with the contents of the academy’s library."

"Um, most of Draconis Magnificens, the relevant portions of Thorne’s Feather, Scale, and Aether, Children of the Sky-Fire was well-written but more about weird dragon-worshipping cult stuff than usable information, and one of the librarians recommended Blackwood’s Spark to Shadow for soul stuff. It felt like more of a think-piece than practical information, but apparently it’s hard to find anything on the topic that isn’t written from a primarily religious perspective."

"Spark to Shadow isn’t bad, but I doubt it’ll have what you’re looking for," I hum. "I’ve got some relevant works in my library at home that you might enjoy. I have… somewhat of a personal interest in the matter."

This earns me a small laugh from both girls, which is nice.

"The Scale of Feather, Scale, and Aether isn’t bad either," I press on. "Aris Thorne doesn’t make many assumptions, which is nice, but he still takes a rather human-centric approach to his presentation. Draconis Magnificens is so inaccurate it’s basically fiction, I’m sorry to say. Sky-Fire is a mostly accurate account of a period of my life I don’t love dwelling on, so let’s just skip that one, shall we?"

Selin’s eyes open a bit wider at that little revelation, but thankfully she doesn’t press.

"I found a bit more, research papers and whatnot, but there wasn’t really anything I could confirm as credible," she says, shrugging. "So I eventually figured it would be best to just… ask you."

I nod slowly, accepting my second cup of tea for the day from Ember almost without thinking. Selin gets one too, and knowing Ember, the temperature will be right on the upper edge of what she can currently handle. We’ll have to take some time to get that up.

"Never a bad conclusion to come to," I say. "Do you have specific questions, or would you like a more general overview of things?"

"I do have specific questions," Selin starts, "but I think I’d like to hear your overview. You probably have a better idea of what’s immediately relevant than I do."

"In that case, then, we’ll start with the soul," I state. "If you’ll recall, at our last meeting, I mentioned a… mismatch, so to speak. Being born with a soul not befitting of the body."

Selin nods, so I continue.

"It’s a technically accurate statement, and conveys the general idea well enough, but it’s not specific. Your soul is, fundamentally, what holds you. Your identity, your personality, your consciousness, everything that makes the girl sitting in front of me right now Selin Lettea and not some zombified husk of habits and automatic responses that merely playacts at being a person. Your soul, working in tandem with your brain, to give you life, shape your thoughts, and make you who you are. The soul serves other purposes as well, of course, the channeling and control of mana being one of the major ones, but that’s not really what we’re focusing on here. The quality of the soul more relevant to us is what happens when you—"

I point one blue-speckled finger at her.

"—start to push up against the bounds of this."

I lean forward and tap her on the forehead. She blinks, then refocuses on me as I sit back.

"I’m not sure I follow."

"I’ll try to illustrate. Imagine your soul as… as… Ember?"

"A plant, my lady."

"A plant, yes, thank you," I nod affirmatively. "A flower, ivy, whatever, it doesn’t matter for the metaphor. You, Selin, that spark of life and identity and consciousness, are a plant contained within a decorative pot. As you start from a metaphorical seed at birth, you grow, putting down roots and sending up sprouts and all those good things plants do. Things are fine for a time as you mature and thrive, but then…"

I hold up the same hand I used to poke her in a closed fist, slowly spreading my fingers before abruptly stopping in place.

"You find that you have run up against the edges of the pot. Your roots have permeated every bit of soil, your leaves are eking out every bit of sunlight they can get from the shelf the pot is placed on, and every drop of water you get is quickly sucked up, leaving you dry and wanting more. And yet, there is still so much more left for you to grow. Are you following me so far?"

"I think so, yeah," she answers.

"Right. For most people, this is a non-issue. They have been planted correctly, with a pot adequately sized and shaped for their needs, to let their roots grow comfortably and soak up all the nutrients they need for a lifetime. But for others, like us, they are quite literally a different kind of plant. Some need a different climate, some need more nutrients, but in this case… to put it simply, you’ve been planted in the wrong pot, and it’s choking you. You’ll live, yes, but you won’t thrive. Your leaves will wither, your roots will dry, and eventually you will find your soil and your pot have nothing left to give you, and your life comes to an end. Tragic, preventable, and most people who this happens to don’t even realize that it is the case."

Selin slowly nods, and I can tell from the look on her face that she seems to be understanding. It’s not a perfect metaphor, but I think it serves its purpose.

"There are ways to mitigate this, of course. We can refer to this as adding more soil to the pot, if you’d like, giving you a bit more room to expand. Frankly, just acknowledging the problem for what it is does wonders; that’s a rather large added scoop right there. But, unfortunately, this only works to an extent. Eventually you’ll run up against the rim of the pot and you can’t add any more soil. I should say, when I’m referring to a pot, I’m not talking solely about your physical body. It’s an extremely significant factor, yes, but things like your family and social environment, hobbies, personal fulfillment, the expectations placed upon you, and more all come together to form the bounds of expression and existence you fit within. There’s a bit of wiggle room there, but I hope it conveys the idea properly."

"It does, yes," Selin says, looking contemplative. "So, adding more soil only does so much. What do you do when you’ve added all you can, and it’s still not enough?"

"The answer to that, my dear, is up to you," I inform her. "Tell me. Do you feel fulfilled?"

"What, in life?"

"In life, socially, academically, whatever. I suppose, if we want to get more specific, do you feel as though the paths you are currently on will lead to personal fulfillment in those aspects? Take your time."

"I… uh… wow, okay, wasn’t really expecting this sort of question in this talk." She actually thinks for a minute, which I appreciate. "I… don’t think I have any good reason to believe that they won’t?"

"That’s not what I asked," I counter. Selin looks at me, eyes roaming over my face, taking another moment before she responds.

"Passion and certainty. Confidence and contentment," she says. "Is that what you’re asking about?"

"It is if you think it is. I acknowledge that that’s frustratingly vague, but personal determinism is sort of the name of the game here."

"Then… I think I don’t know. It feels like the kind of thing that’s impossible to know ahead of time, which might speak more to myself than any sort of objective truth of the sapient experience, if that’s what you’re getting at. I have friends, I love my family, I have a feeling I’m at the top of at least one of my classes, I have a lot of promising options for a career. Discounting what we’ve been talking about, shouldn’t all of that be a recipe for personal fulfillment?"

"Perhaps," I say. "But…?"

Selin glances away, taking in the meadow, the mountains, the cloudless sky. She looks down at her teacup, and the bag resting at her hip. When her eyes meet mine again, there’s a depth to them, a touch of intention that wasn’t present before.

"Should. It’s what should be fulfilling."

A small smile starts sneaking its way onto my face again.

"What would fulfill you, Selin?"

She takes a breath.

"I said it before. I don’t know. But… if I break the pot, I might find out."

There she is.

"So," Selin says. "How do I do this?"

The intention in her eyes is resolve now, a fiery determination that I could lead her towards but never outright give her. If, for whatever reason, I were to walk away at this point, I think she has the fuel to figure out the whole thing on her own, like I did. It only serves to reaffirm my decision to help her, though.

"Onto the second topic, then," I smile. "You, Selin, are a dragon. I hope the events of last week proved it well enough for the idea to take root, and in any case that’s something we’ll be working on. That fact is going to be your lifeline and your guiding star. I used to be in the same situation you were, though without anyone to help me through it, and it took me the first eighty precious years of my life to get to the point that I expect you’ll be at in three months. At times, the only thing that kept me going was clinging to that fact like it was the foundation of reality itself."

As I talk, I push more and more of my body into inhumanity. Cerulean scales bloom over every inch of my skin, claws replace nails, and a few blinks see my pupils slitted and much sharper. Each change feels like unclasping a weight from my soul and dropping it, letting myself feel freer and indisputably me. It’s not hard to notice Selin watching me a bit more intently than she was before, though the expression on her face is less than scrutable. My wings neatly fill in the space where the ever-present phantom limb sensation tells me they should be, and I give them a quick stretch and let out a small sigh of relief before continuing.

"The real challenge lies not in knowing who you are academically, but knowing who you are internally. How you think of yourself, what you expect from yourself, what you know to be true and not true about what you are. You need to be able to see yourself in the mirror and know that there is more to you than that shape that you see, and rather than lament what you are not, be proud of what you know you are."

"Is that it?" Selin asks dubiously.

"Oh, of course not," I scoff. "If that was all there was to it, this whole thing wouldn’t be nearly as much of a problem. But it is the first step, and I think you’ll be surprised by just how much It helps. Just give it a try. Say it out loud."

She’s quiet for a moment, lips pursed.

"I don’t… it feels silly."

"Of course it does. You haven’t internalized it yet. But that’s not going to happen unless you say it. What are you?"

She sighs and pulls in on herself a bit.

"I’m… a dragon."

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" I smile.

"Still felt silly."

"Yeah, but soon it won’t. Here," I say, gesturing to the felt bag at her hip. "Pull out your stone. I think it might help."

She doesn’t push back on this, at least, uncinching the drawstring holding the bag closed and reaching a hand in to pull out the glittering purple corundum I gave her a week ago, grasping it with her other hand as she does. The shift is subtle, of course, but to me the way she sits up just a little straighter while she looks at the large gemstone is as telling as anything. When she meets my gaze again, she looks just a bit more sure, which is all we really need.

"What is that?" I ask her.

"Corundum, you said. The same thing that rubies and sapphires are made of."

"What is it to you?"

"I don’t think I… Oh! It’s my hoard," she says, needing a moment to realize what I’m asking. Looking at her face, it takes a full second and a half after saying that for her to remember that some part of her thinks she needs to feel embarrassed about saying it out loud.

"Why do you have a hoard, Selin?"

"Because you gave it to me?" she tries, with a joking smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I raise a brow, and she wilts a little. "Because… I’m a dragon."

"Selin, I’m afraid that the lady is incredibly old and therefore very hard of hearing," Ember assists me unhelpfully. "You might need to say it again for her to hear it properly."

Selin rolls her eyes, and I only barely manage to keep myself from doing the same. At the end of the roll, though, her eyes land on the gem in her hands, and her knuckles pale slightly as she takes a deep breath and grips it just a bit tighter.

"Because I’m a dragon."

She has so much further to go, but that’s the first step. Actually acknowledging it. It’ll take a long time for her to fully believe it, of course, but her voice has the hint of confidence I was looking for, the seed that will grow into something strong enough to shatter that pot into a million pieces. Some small part of her believes in who and what she is, and that makes all the difference.

The three of us settle a bit, actually lying down on the picnic blanket to enjoy the environment and take in nature for a change. It’s so radically different from city life, with the only sounds being the breeze gently ruffling the foliage around us, the chirping of birds off in the distance, and our own breathing. I don’t know what’s going through Selin’s head at the moment, but I don’t have to wonder for long.

"Can I ask what might be a silly question?" she says after some time, staring up at the sky.

"If you want to know the answer, then of course," I tell her.

She shifts a bit on the blanket, perhaps in contemplation, perhaps just finding a more comfortable position.

"What does life… look like? After you figure things out. How does it change, I mean?"

I don’t respond immediately, because this isn’t the type of question that should be answered immediately. Despite how she prefaced it, it’s not a silly question at all. It’s important, because I can tell she wants to know what to expect from life, to try and understand the situation she’s found herself in that will have such far-reaching effects. So, how do I answer? What did my life look like, during that century of exploration and obsession? I could describe it for her, sure, but… no.

"I hate to say this again, since I doubt it will be the assurance you’re most likely looking for, but once again I think the answer to that is up to you. It’s your life, Selin, and nobody can tell you how to live it, especially not now. I can say you’ll hopefully go through things with a bit more confidence, at the very least, sure in yourself, your capabilities, and your identity. But beyond that… I can’t divine the answer for you. Your life won’t look like mine, and I wouldn’t recommend it either way. You have so many options ahead of you. Stick to your studies, find something new, do some original research into the nature of the soul, if that’s what interests you. Travel a bit, find ruins, piece together what was lost to history. Start a cult, end a war, go into teaching. Hells, if you really wanted you could go the classic route, find yourself a cave, amass a hoard greater than the wealth of some nations, and terrorize some poor innocent townsfolk. It’s up to you, Selin."

I have to take a breath after that, preparing my thoughts before continuing.

"But… would you like to know what I would advise?" I ask, and Selin nods. "Take your time. Finish your degree. Make friends and spend time with them. Allow yourself to have normality. Don’t… throw yourself into things, and don’t think that everything has to change simply because you figured yourself out. Time is something you’ll have a lot of, in the long run, so don’t rush it now and miss the opportunities you have just because you’re chasing something greater. You’re young, and you shouldn’t let anything take that away from you. Least of all yourself."

"I can’t just… ignore all this," she says, but in a way that tells me it’s more of a prompt than a counter.

"And I doubt it’d be healthy to, so don’t," I tell her. "But that shouldn’t stop you from living the life that you might have, before all this. That you might still want to, just with a bit more clarity. You might be figuring out what you are, but that doesn’t change who you are."

"Poignant," she says, her voice carrying a soft smile.

"Well, I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on things," I laugh. "Think about what I wish had happened differently. I doubt I’d be a very good teacher if I didn’t feel some desire to share that insight with someone who might need it."

The rest of the afternoon is pleasant, a nice, idyllic picnic in the mountains, the perfect way to wind down at the end of the semester. Ember did a wonderful job with the preparations (overlooking the fact that the cheeky imp decided to bring dragonfruit for an accompaniment), and it seems as though Selin enjoyed herself too. She looks more… settled, perhaps, than she did. Her journey has only just begun, and she clearly knows it, but she also knows more of what it will entail, and maybe she feels a bit more confident in her own ability to complete it. It’s a good look on her.

"It would most likely be a good idea to head back to the academy sometime soon," I say after another long period of quiet enjoyment. "I wouldn’t want to abduct you for so long that the school starts sending out search parties."

"Not unless it turns out I’m somehow a long-lost princess, too," Selin laughs. "Hey. Earlier, you mentioned the point you expected me to be at in three months. Does that mean you have stuff you want me to do over the summer?"

"Ideally," I respond, "we’d be doing a lot over the summer. Truth be told, I haven’t actually done something like this before, as a pretense or not, but, conditional on your interest, I intend to offer you an apprenticeship. It would be significantly more holistic than just studies of a draconian nature, of course, but I think the pretense would also serve as a good opportunity to further your explorations in a setting where privacy is less of a concern. As far as I know, you don’t have any preexisting plans for the break, correct?"

"I, uh, wow, yeah. I mean no, I don’t," Selin stammers. "I… I was just going to stay at home, so I’ll have to talk to my family, but… holy shit yeah that sounds amazing, thank you!"

Well, that seems pretty definitive.

"You’re very welcome," I smile. "I think it will be a good experience for all of us."

"It’ll be nice to be home again for a while," Ember remarks as she begins to clean up.

"Oh goddess, please don’t remind me," I groan. "Having the three of you in one place again is going to be bad enough even if I wasn’t going to be devoting much of my time and attention to teaching Selin."

"We’ll be good, I promise!" Ember chirps with a smile much too puckish for her human face. "Best behavior."

"I don’t believe you for even a second."

"Past performance is not indicative of future results!" she declares. "And besides, would you really deny me this? The city can be so stifling, you know."

"I definitely get that," Selin mutters, pushing herself upright so she can give Ember a hand. "Wait, is that a dragon thing?"

"In all likelihood, yes," I say. "But to be honest, I think it’s a pretty widespread sentiment. In any case, I think you’ll enjoy the estate, even with three fountainheads of mischief running around."

I push myself up as well, climbing to my feet and giving my wings one last good flare and stretch before I fold them up and start the transition back into a more human-standard form. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a proper flight in, and they ache to be used, but now is not the time, unfortunately. Though, who knows? I might end up needing to teach Selin to fly before the summer’s over, if she makes enough progress. That would certainly be something.

Cleaning up is quick with many hands once again making light work of things, though I think we all are at least a little reluctant to leave. Selin expresses this by falling back onto the flattened patch of wildflowers where the blanket was, sighing with contentment after an initial small gasp from landing.

"Wow this was wonderful," she says. "Thanks again, for… everything."

"You are very welcome, my dear," I tell her. "But stay like that and you’ll stain your clothes."

"Oh please, I’m not an infant, I know how to use prestidigitation," Selin giggles, starting to move her arms and legs like she’s making a snow angel in spring. She seems to be enjoying herself, at least. "And it is so nice out here. I think I’d love to come back sometime, if it’s not too much trouble."

"I’m not the one who isn’t accustomed to teleportation," I smirk. "But yes, it’s one of my favorites for a reason."

She eventually stops with her limbs spread wide, getting in a bit more rest before she has to get up. I don’t have to take such a long time changing back into my human guise, but it’s nice to spend as much time as close to my real body as I can get. Plus, transformation is such an interesting sensation. And it’s only because I save my draconic eyes with their better-than-human perception for last that I spot it. Or, given that there looks to be a few, them.

"Selin," I start, "out of curiosity, how practiced are you with illusion spells?"

"Not very much at all," she answers, looking up at me quizzically. "I know theory, of course, but it always felt kinda weird to use, so I haven’t really used it since second year. Why?"

So, it’s not her doing it as a somewhat odd way of trying things out. Fuck. That’s… is she even trying to do anything? Or is it just happening, somehow? That would be… unimaginable. I kneel down to her left, heedless of dirtying my own clothes, and slip one hand under her elbow, lifting it slightly.

"You might want to brush up," I tell her, gazed locked on her arm. "Goddess above, I thought it was a mole at first. But… here."

I touch the space slightly above her inner elbow with my free hand, then guide her arm upwards for her to see. She brings her arm over her face herself, squinting slightly as she does her best to focus with her eyes currently accustomed to the strong light from the sky. Then, they go wide as she sees what I saw.

Seven tiny scales sit on her arm, arranged in a circle with one in the middle. The little cluster is maybe half the diameter of a ten-cent coin all together, the scales in soft areas like joints always being smaller to allow for greater flexibility, but they’re there, each one a brilliant, rich purple. Perfectly matching the gem I picked out for her, chosen for her favorite color.

I shake my head.

"You got it right every time," I tell her. "Even the first two attempts, which I intentionally sabotaged without your notice, according to academy procedure. You corrected and compensated without prompting."

I don’t have to look at Selin to anticipate the indignant response that revelation will elicit, so I simply hold up my hand to silence her.

"It’s not the moon, it’s not ambient interference, and it’s sure as hell not my materials. It’s not your procedures, your written report has no problems on paper and I tested it last night in this very room, so it’s not the location either."

Sure enough, when I tested Selin’s ritual myself in preparation for today, the brilliant purple spark had appeared in midair and fragmented into responsive motes, just as she had designed it to do. By her own accounts it had worked just as well while she was developing it, so we should be seeing at least some sort of magical response from the ritual besides the barest, halfhearted ionizing glow coming from the air above the circle, and yet here we were, twenty-two attempts later. I would normally have to penalize her for taking this many attempts, but that part of the rubric was written under the assumption that failure would be due to something on the student’s part. This, however…

"So what is wrong with it, Professor?" Selin asks as she slumps down into one of the armchairs arranged against the wall of my workshop. "I know you’re not supposed to tell me until after the exam, but…"

"Nothing," I say as I sit down next to her, with a bit more grace. "Absolutely nothing at all, besides the fact that it is simply not working. Selin, I genuinely have no idea what to tell you. I’m half-tempted to just award you full marks and some extra credit on top of it and call it a day."

"Well don’t do that," she whines. "How am I supposed to call it a success if it doesn’t work when it’s supposed to?"

"You do realize most students wouldn’t hesitate to accept that offer, right?"

"Well there’s a reason you’re mentoring me and not them," Selin says, and I concede the point with a chuckle. The girl has a work ethic and level of tenacity I haven’t seen in years. What makes her stand out even more is the fact that when she was my student in introductory classes, I had initially assumed she would wash out of the program. It took her almost twice as long as most of the other students to get her fundamental spell weaving up to par, and her magic still has a tendency to try and run away from her in a way that’s amusingly familiar. But what she lacks in control, Selin more than makes up for with her sheer breadth of comprehension of theory. With time and effort, she’s grown to become the most promising student in her year, and I was quite excited to see what she came up with for her end-of-semester project. It was ambitious, sure, but pulling it off should be fully within her capabilities, and yet success has eluded her thus far today. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she refused to leave my quarters until the ritual succeeded, be it hours or until the end of the day or even longer. I myself would be remiss to end before she got it working, but at this point I genuinely have no idea what to do.

"Why don’t you take a break?" I suggest. "Just half an hour. You can ask Ember to make tea. I’ll stay here and work out the problem, then you can come back with a fresh mind and it’ll work this time."

I can tell Selin does not share my optimism, nor does she want to give up even temporarily, but exhaustion wins out and she nods, standing up and removing her apron and protective goggles before exiting the workshop. I remain, close my eyes, and focus my mind the problem at hand.

Fifteen minutes later and I’m only more frustrated. I tested this yesterday and it worked. There should be no effective difference between the two setups. What the hell is going on?

The softest, quietest tink of porcelain interrupts my thoughts, and I open my eyes to see Ember setting down a cup and saucer on the end table next to my chair. My maid’s lips quirk in dissatisfaction when she realizes that she wasn’t quite silent enough to go unnoticed, but quickly return to her usual warm smile.

"You’ll get me one of these days," I assure her, and she stifles an amused snort. "How’s Selin?"

"Antsy, but she’s staying in one place, at least," Ember responds. "I think the failure is getting to her."

"And to I as well," I sigh. "She’s executing the ritual even more precisely than I did, and nothing."

I pick up the cup from the saucer, then pause as I notice the contents and raise one eyebrow at Ember.

"What is hot cocoa if not tea made of chocolate steeped in milk?" she says, with an ever-so-slightly mischievous lilt to her voice. "I thought you both could use the comfort."

I roll my eyes, though there’s no real annoyance behind it. A small sip confirms that it’s been heated well beyond the boiling point, the enchantment on the cup preventing it from evaporating or scalding, and I breathe a sigh of contentment. She knows me too well.

"Would you like me to give it a look, my lady?" Ember asks. "Fresh eyes could spot something new, perhaps?"

"You’re welcome to, if you’d like," I tell her. I don’t honestly expect her to find anything, though not for any lack of faith on my part in my maid’s skill. I just can’t imagine there’s anything to find.

Ember walks around the outside of the ritual circle a few times, staring at it intently as I sip my cocoa. I try to keep thinking, picking apart the problem in different ways, but the answer continues to elude me. When Ember speaks up again, the distraction is very welcome.

"She’s using your mana siphon design. Integrated correctly, but still not standard. Is that a problem?"

"No, it should work just like the standard design for her. A bit more efficiently, even, which I assume is why she’s using it," I say. Ember knows this, of course, but it’s still good to talk things out. Maybe something will spark an epiphany.

"Hmm." She’s quiet for another moment. "And you recreated this last night exactly, including the siphon, correct?"

"It’s the design I have to grade, so naturally," I confirm. "It worked flawlessly, first try."

"Even with the compensation runes?"

I frown.

"I suppressed them temporarily, like I always do with that design. My magic only needs compensation when I’m reproducing the standard siphon design, you know this," I say, not entirely sure where she’s going with this. The runes hidden in the walls of my workshop and the classrooms I teach in are critical for ensuring rituals designed without my own little custom component actually function properly and don't just immediately fizzle out. My own magic doesn't play nicely with rituals, so any mana siphon attempting to use it to power one finds itself promptly overwhelmed unless it's built to handle that kind of mana (like my design is) or the volatility in my magic is compensated for, like the runes do.

"And they’re on now, because that’s their normal state," Ember hums. "Out of curiosity, what would happen if you tried this ritual with the compensation runes active?"

"Modifying the design to use a standard mana siphon? I can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t be able—"

"No," Ember cuts me off. "As implemented."

"It wouldn’t work, obviously. The siphon’s design is too specific for properly collecting my magic processed to behave like normal magic, it has to be either or. Standard siphons are more forgiving, but less efficient."

"So the siphon would get overloaded and fail relatively quickly?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I can see where you’re going with this, but it’s wrong," I say, leaning forward in my chair and placing the now-empty cup back down on the saucer. "To the runes, normal mana might as well not exist. They wouldn’t do anything to Selin’s, she’s the one igniting the ritual, and the ritual isn’t tandem nor does it collect ambient mana. My magic isn’t affecting things at all, I’ve made sure of it."

"What if her magic needs to be compensated for?"

"I—"

The notion is ludicrous. So ludicrous that I start to respond without thinking, but then cut myself off. If I was the one doing the ritual, then yes, I’d need to suppress the runes in order for it to work, just like I did last night. I never designed my improved mana siphon to work with them, because there was absolutely no need to and it would have just complicated the inscription. If I still tried anyway, though… the siphon would eke out the barest amount of mana, then promptly give up. The distribution lines would do their best to convey the mana to the rest of the circle, which would… which wouldn’t even get through the first step of the intended output. No spark. It would try, though, and if I had to guess, that weak, mana-starved attempt would probably look just like a faint purple glow in the air, and nothing else.

It doesn’t make sense. It makes too much sense. It explains everything nicely and raises so many more questions. I desperately want to hang onto any possible evidence it’s not true, because it couldn’t be. I would know. And there’s no way. No way at all. But…

"But she’s human," I say, voice a little weaker and more unsure than I’d like. Ember simply raises an eyebrow again.

"You thought you were."

I sigh. I don’t want to acknowledge even the remotest possibility of Ember being right, but at my core I’m too much of a scientist to not at least attempt to test the possibility.

"It’s been long enough; she’ll be itching to try again," I say, defeated. "You go get her, I’ll turn off the compensation runes."

"Of course, my lady," my maid says, in that way she’s perfected that conveys very little of the deference the title would imply. She exits the workshop, and I get back to my feet, turning around and placing my hand on the wall. A twist of will sees the rune contained within made dormant for a time, and I walk to and repeat the process with the other five walls, finishing just as Selin rushes in with Ember behind her.

"What’d you figure out?" Selin asks excitedly, already throwing her apron back on and pulling her hair back. "Are we good to go?"

"There’s… a chance we are," I hedge. "I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but I’ve tried something and there’s a very remote possibility it should work now, no other modifications necessary."

"Alright!" Selin cheers, tying the apron strings behind her back. "You don’t sound very hopeful, though."

"The lady has a tendency to temper her expectations to an unreasonable degree," Ember says, insolent little creature that she is. "I have faith in your abilities, Selin."

"Aw, thanks!" Selin says, grabbing the materials she needs for another attempt. "Anything I should do differently or just like I designed?"

"Just like you designed," I confirm. "And if this doesn’t work then please don’t feel discouraged."

"No promises!" she declares, working with remarkable efficiency. "Okay, prepped and reset for another go."

I give her work a cursory glance, but I have no doubt it’ll be perfect, just like all the other attempts. Alright. No time like the present.

"On my call," I say, and Selin nods. "Three. Two. One. Ignite."

Selin pours her magic into the circle once again, and the air above the ritual circle blooms, brilliant purple light coalescing into one single, shining point. I allow myself a fraction of a second to process, which is not nearly enough, but I have a job to do.

"Seven. Six. Five. Four," I call, and the spark fragments, much smaller points of light rapidly spreading out to fill the cylindrical space above the ritual circle. There must be thousands of them, and the density Selin has achieved is noticeably greater than what I managed last night with the exact same conditions. "Three. Two. One. Indicators. Four. Three. Two. One."

"Succeeded," Selin declares, voice full of pride. The results are plain to see, stabilizing well before the seven second mark and taking much less than four to interpret.

"Hold," I continue in cadence. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Stable."

Selin hesitantly sticks her hand into the field of purple, and the motes in a small radius around it drift towards her. She clenches her hand into a fist, and they rapidly move to coat her hand, before all suddenly jumping back into position when she opens her hand again. She beams at me.

"Well done," I say as I release a bit of the tension in my body, though not all of it, and catch Ember’s eye. She’s grinning at me very smugly, which I suppose is well-deserved. This… complicates things.

"Told you it works," Selin says, self-satisfaction oozing out of every pore. She pulls her hand back and the pinpricks of purple light stay where they are, having done their job in this demonstration.

"If you’ll recall, I never doubted that it should," I respond. Okay, time to start teasing this mystery apart. "Selin, your mana siphon. Why did you use my design over the standard one? It must have been harder to integrate."

"Huh? Oh, the siphon. Because the standard one sucks and yours is better?" Selin says as she pushes her goggles up to her forehead. Somehow I don’t think she means it solely as a compliment.

"It’s harder to inscribe than the standard version, though," I prompt her. "And reproducibility was one of the factors you were instructed to keep in mind when designing your project."

"Well yeah, of course I thought about that," she defends. "And I started with the usual one, like I’m supposed to, but I’m bad at inscribing it and I could never get it right so I just rebuilt the ritual around yours and I actually started getting results."

I freeze. She does not mean what I think she means. She can’t.

"What do you mean you’re bad at inscribing it?" I ask. "Your inscriptions are some of the most precise I’ve ever seen."

"Aww, thanks," Selin blushes. "And I mean I’m bad at it! I can only get it to work half the time, usually when you’re helping me. Anything that’s designed by you always works for me. It’s consistent!"

It’s consistent because I always deactivate the compensation runes in my classrooms and workshop when we’re working with rituals I’ve designed, because of the fact that they interfere with each other. And any time she’s tried a ritual with my mana siphon outside of those places, there aren’t runes to worry about. But no, that would mean…

"Selin, have you ever successfully completed a ritual using the standard siphon outside of this room or a classroom?"

"Uh, well… not really?" she admits sheepishly. Oh goddess. "I’ve just kinda taken to modifying the rituals when I’m at home, 'cause there isn’t an instructor there to tell me off for doing it wrong."

"You’re modifying rituals to include my mana siphon?" I ask, flabbergasted. "You can’t just put it in place of the old one; the integrations are completely different!"

"Uh, yeah?" Selin says, sounding confused. "It’s not that difficult to rework the distribution lines around it."

Yes it is. Yes it fucking is. I don’t say that to her, though, instead turning to the room’s other occupant, whose grin is almost too wide for her face at this point.

"Fine. Fine! You win, Ember," I declare, throwing my hands up in the air. "You were right, I was wrong. She can’t do rituals without compensating."

"I’m so glad your humility hasn’t left you, my lady," Ember beams. Selin, meanwhile, just looks confused.

"Sorry, 'compensating?'" she asks. "I’m not doing anything differently, as far as I know. What did you figure out? Why did it work this time?"

I sigh.

"You didn’t do anything different. It was a problem with my workshop, which I apologize for. But, we’re not quite done yet. This is not part of your exam, but I’d appreciate it if you humored me anyway. Light spell, as by-the-book as you can."

Selin’s confused expression only deepens, but she obliges me, holding up a hand and making a simple ball of light appear above it. It roils and shifts, maintaining a loosely spherical shape as it ebbs and flows. Selin’s magic has frequently expressed itself this way, and while I’ve drawn parallels to my own experiences, I never made the conclusion that it’s seeming like I should have.

"Hold it there, don’t lose focus," I instruct her as I walk back towards the wall. With a touch, I draw back out the mana keeping the rune within suppressed, fixing my eyes on the Selin’s light spell as I do so. It flickers, though not by much. I walk to two more walls and do the same thing, then return to my student. With half the runes in effect, the ball of light has calmed itself a bit, still far from static but significantly more under control. Selin looks to be concentrating hard on keeping it stable, her lips pursed, but I don’t offer her any insight, instead walking to the remaining three walls and reactivating the runes contained within. Walking back up, I can see that the little ball of light has become a perfect, static sphere, as textbook as I’ve ever seen. Selin looks up at me questioningly, but I preempt her with a question of my own.

"Are you sure you’re human?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she asks incredulously.

"Like I asked earlier, please humor me," I say patiently.

"I… yes?" she says, and I can tell she truly believes it. "There’s some elven blood on my dad’s side if you go back like eight generations, but that’s extremely diluted, I know how this works."

And indeed, it should not have this kind of effect oh her magic. But, what I’m asking about isn’t something brought about by genetics.

"Release and disengage the ritual at your leisure, then you two start cleaning up," I order. "I need to grab something. Ember, don’t bias her while I’m gone."

"Bias me?"

"My lady?"

"I’m doing a test," I state, and Ember’s eyes go wide.

"Hey wh—"

The rest of Selin’s confused exclamation is cut off as I abruptly turn on my heel and yank myself through space, the workshop around me immediately transitioning into a new, much larger space. Cavernous walls of rough-hewn rock, globes of magical light suspended from the very high ceiling, and approximately forty fireballs spontaneously generated and fired towards me by the wards the second I take a step forward. My stride doesn’t falter as they hit and harmlessly wash over me, my robes being enchanted to protect themselves and anything contained within the many pockets from flame. That doesn’t include the wearer, but, well. The day I can’t handle a bit of fire is the day I die.

I was lucky enough to find this cave a couple of centuries back, and promptly sealed it up and warded it to high heaven to prevent anyone else from doing so after me. If anyone else besides me or my staff tried to get in here, they’d be faced with a lot worse than just fireballs. They’re more of a precaution, anyway. Plus, the heat is nice. These mountains don’t have any geothermal activity, so the entire cave system has to be heated magically, which takes a lot of energy.

It doesn’t take me long to reach the cave’s main event, since while this chamber is absolutely massive, so is the pile of treasure it contains. For years, I never really understood the appeal of having a hoard, but the very first time I held a gemstone the size of an apple in my hands, I was hooked. That was a long, long, time ago, though, and now my trove has grown to a size even the most ascetic of my kin would salivate over. Not that they’ll ever get to see it, of course, nor will any humans. Very few people know my true identity, and I like it that way. I doubt my life of tenured pedagogy would be quite so peaceful if the rest of the staff knew there was anything more to me than an experienced noblewoman with a penchant for magical research and a slightly strange magical response to rituals. Anonymity holds power, in this world, which is one of the many reasons why part of me greatly dislikes the idea of potentially revealing myself. But, I’m forced to admit, if I’m correct, the alternative would be worse for Selin, and I like the poor girl far too much for that.

I spend around half an hour searching through the piles, examining each splotch of color poking out from in between pieces of gold from this century and many past. My search criteria is very specific, and it’s not like I can just pull some random ruby out and be done with it. I’m loathe to part with even a single piece from my collection, as any self-respecting dragon would be, but I know that if this test succeeds then there will be no way I’m getting this back. Finally, though, I spot it. A brilliant purple, Selin’s favorite color. Round, roughly cut (though that just adds charm, in my opinion), and large enough that it’s awkward to carry in only one hand. Corundum. It’s perfect. …Now I just have to find something to carry it in.

When I return to my workshop, a large felt bag clasped in my hands, my eyes barely have time to focus before I’m assaulted with a shrill exclamation.

"You can teleport!?" Selin yells, and I wince before schooling my expression.

"Were you waiting the entire time just to ask that?" I say tersely.

"Well yeah, you just disappeared so what else was I supposed to do after cleaning up?" Selin responds, and I am pleased to see the workshop is looking spotless. "Ember won’t even talk to me and I am still very confused as to what is going on."

"I apologize for leaving you in the dark, so to speak, but this is very important," I sigh. "Yes, I can teleport, it’s rather advanced magic and relatively inaccessible to most people, but I will teach you, should you desire. In any case, I think things will very soon become clear. Come."

I turn and walk towards the door, navigating down the hall and to the sitting room. As expected, Ember is waiting there, tea already prepared. Cinnamon this time, I can smell, not chocolate. I sit down on one of the chairs, bag in my lap, and motion for the other girls to do the same. Selin picks the chair opposite me, looking at me intently, while Ember picks the couch to the side of us. She always gets squirmy when she’s excited, and that’s quite evident now, despite her attempts to sit still.

"So, first things first," I begin. "Nothing you are about to see or hear is to be discussed outside of my quarters, and never with anyone besides me or my staff. Do you understand?"

"'Staff,' plural?" Selin says, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Ember. "Are there more?"

"Cinder and Tinder tend to the estate while I’m teaching; you’ll be introduced to them eventually," I elaborate, and before she can think too much on the names I continue. "Besides Ember and I, you will not breathe a word of this to anyone else. I repeat, do you understand?"

"Yes," Selin nods, and I can tell she means it. Everything that’s happening is much too intriguing for her to just walk away.

"Good," I say, then reach into the bag and tug it off of the gemstone contained within, watching Selin’s expression carefully. "Secondly, congratulations on passing your practical exam. As I said earlier, I will be awarding you full marks, plus extra credit."

As I reveal the giant purple corundum, I see the spark in Selin’s eyes, and my theory is confirmed. A bittersweet feeling washes over me at that. As much as I was enjoying the relatively solo life (well, as solo as a girl can be with three kobolds), it’s nice to know that I’ll be mentoring my favorite student for a good while longer yet. I stand up, holding the gem in both hands, and walk over to Selin, holding it out to her.

"A gift," I tell her. "And hopefully a fitting start to your collection."

Her eyes grow even wider than they already were, and she reaches up, almost reverently, taking the gemstone from my grasp. I feel a pang in my heart as it leaves my hands, but I push it down. This is necessary. I’m not going to let her wander, lost, like I did.

"I… I don’t know what to say," Selin starts as I walk back to my chair and sit down. "This is… this is too much. What even… what?"

"Purple corundum," I state matter-of-factly. "The same thing that rubies and sapphires are made of, just with a different name and color. Near flawless, as best I can tell. I’ll help you weigh and grade it later. You’ll want to know."

"Professor, this is… how much is this even worth?" Selin nearly whines, most of her sense of decorum leaving her. Which is understandable.

"Oh, I have no idea," I tell her, semi-honestly, then lean forward in my seat. "If it’s too much, then simply give it back. I’ll find you something more appropriate."

She looks at the gemstone for a long while, longer than she thinks, I’m sure. Then, very slowly, she brings it down to her chest, holding and hugging it despite the weight. I nod approvingly. There really was no chance of anything else.

"Then, thirdly, your ritual," I say, and I think I manage to recapture most of her attention. "Like I said, the problem was with my workshop, not you or your execution. I would like to once again apologize for causing that unnecessary stress."

"That’s… alright," Selin nods. "What was the problem, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"The answer is rather complicated, but I’ll do my best to explain," I start. "While my preferences lie in other fields, I do consider myself somewhat of an expert in ritual magic, and I’d hope my teaching position supports that assertion. This is in spite of a rather curious quirk of my magic, which interacts with most modern ritual designs in a way that precludes them from working. Unless, of course, the ritual circle utilizes the mana siphon I designed some two hundred years ago to address this very issue. You, Selin, have this same quirk."

"Okay, wait, slow down," she says. "I’ve seen you use the standard mana siphon before. I’ve used it before. And my ritual used yours, but it wasn’t working. Also, sorry, did you say two hundred years?"

"Young lady, you should know better than to ask about a woman’s age," I admonish her, and savor the wounded expression on her face for the couple of seconds I can manage to prevent my mouth from cracking into a smile. "But yes, I am significantly older than I look. And in regards to your other questions, there is more than one way to mitigate the effects of this quirk, which I had to do before I designed my own ritual components. Built into the walls of my workshop and classrooms are runes that, when activated, compensate for the volatility of my magic, forcing it to behave as normal to standard mana siphons."

Understanding begins to dawn on Selin’s face.

"So when you had me do the light spell and it got less and less chaotic…"

"The runes were processing and calming your magic as I activated them, yes."

"That… makes a surprising amount of sense," she says. "The standard siphon only working for me in the classrooms and your workshop, not at home. Wait, but what was the problem with my ritual, then? I was using your design, that takes care of the issue, you said."

"It does, yes," I nod. "The problem was that I, not knowing about your situation, left the runes activated for your exam. The siphon does not process my magic after it has been affected by the runes, due to the specificity of the design, and neither was it processing yours. When I deactivated the runes, as I do whenever I deal with rituals of my own design, that allowed your natural magic to fuel the ritual as normal, and thus leading to the success. The compensation runes have no effect whatsoever on magic without this quirk, so I did not expect them to have any effect on your performance."

"Huh," Selin responds, thoughtfully. "I assume you’re willing to show me the runes so I can use them myself?"

"I do plan on doing so," I nod affirmatively. "They’re not exactly simple, but I have no doubt you’ll be able to reproduce them with relatively little effort."

"Well, okay then!" she beams. "That’s good to know. Use your siphon when I can, use the runes for the standard version, don’t mix and match. That all seems pretty clear. I don’t really get why this is such a secret, though."

I sigh. Here’s where we get to the more significant part of this conversation.

"Selin, you are the twelfth person I have met in my life besides me with this condition. This is over many centuries, and I know there are a number more I have not met but experience the same thing, since it follows a very clear pattern. I hope you believe me when I tell you how rare this is, and that I am very confident when I say it is indicative of more overall characteristics of the person the volatile magic comes from. I was initially extremely unwilling to believe that the runes were responding to you, for the very simple reason that the runes do not respond to humans, nor most other races. Yet your magic is of the variety they were designed for, which only stems from one source."

"So, what are you saying?" she asks me, pulling the gemstone a little tighter against herself. "That I’m not human? How the hell could I not be?"

"In this case, it’s a matter of the soul," I tell her. "I do not know the exact mechanism behind it, for there are so few of us to be studied, and I am still not entirely sure how similar it is for other races. But, sometimes, very rarely, a person can be born with a soul not befitting of their body, and this leads to a mismatch. One that could potentially go unnoticed for their entire lives, given a lack of the right circumstances. Such a case is certainly a tragedy, which means that it is my responsibility to prevent the same from happening to you."

She takes a deep breath.

"Just… out with it. Stop dancing around whatever it is."

Well. Here we go.

"Selin, every single person whose magic behaves like this is a dragon."

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh.

"Bullshit," is her response, soft, too quickly. I say nothing, and simply draw my hand down my face, letting my human visage fall away and the deep blue scales of my true form shine through, though still in a somewhat humanoid shape. Selin gasps at my sudden reveal, then glances over to Ember, whose disguise falls away at the same time mine does, leaving a short orange kobold sitting on the couch instead, tail rapidly wagging. She’s still wearing a smaller version of her maid uniform, though, and waves happily to a stunned Selin.

"I hope you understand why I asked you to keep this a secret," I say, only managing to hide around half of the amusement I’m currently feeling. Not much of my body is visible with the robes, but it should certainly be enough.

"I… yes," Selin responds, finally managing to find her voice again. "But you’re… that’s not… I’m not…"

"Here’s a proposal for you," I say to her, leaning forward to give my folded-up wings some space. "Hand the stone back to me, or fail my class."

The immediate look of shock and betrayal on her face is just what I expected, so I escalate, holding out my scaled palm and summoning a roiling ball of flame above it.

"Hand the stone back to me, or die."

She tenses up, eyes narrowing. I know that look, and while it is what I’m fishing for, I don’t particularly feel like ruining my sitting room with a mage battle, so I extinguish the flame and raise both my palms up deferentially while lowering my head.

"Easy, easy," I placate, letting my human form wash back over me to break her concentration. She blinks, eyes refocusing, so that hopefully did the trick. "I’m not going to take it away, I promise. I’m sorry."

"G-good," Selin says. Then, after a moment, her eyes widen. "Wait, holy shit, I didn’t mean to… fuck, I am so sorry, um—"

I lower my left hand, letting the right one remain up to stop her.

"It’s exactly the reaction I was provoking; there’s no need to apologize," I assure her. "It’s natural to get defensive over items in your hoard."

"My hoard?" she asks incredulously. Then, softly. "Oh. Fuck."

I nod at her.

"Are things starting to make a bit more sense?"

"…Getting there," Selin says, demurely. "There’s still a lot I don’t understand."

"Well, we have all the time in the world to get to remedy that," I assure her. "And as it turns out, all the time is the world is going to be a lot longer for you than either of us thought."

"Aaaa, this is going to be so much fun!" Ember squeaks, and I can’t help but agree with her. Even Selin lets a hint of anticipation show through on her face, which makes my smile grow even wider.

Goodness, I love being a teacher.