The two led him through the corridors made of fine wood, all of it still clearly alive. It had what appeared to be bark unlike most dead, cut, polished wood, but the surface itself retained the beautiful hues that others went for by natural expression. It had the kind of knobs and holes you’d expect in normal wood, but all of them were small enough it couldn’t cut you or abrase your skin even if you rubbed it rather hard.

The lights came from what looked like short branches that ended in a circle above the heads of most in the old hallways, though occasionally the exceptionally tall were met with a light in the forehead. Floating in the middle of these rings were alternating soft blue and green lights. But instead of flame they were often times orbs, or at least they always were when you were looking. Out of the corner of your eye, they took all kinds of shapes.

The doors were done in a style more like a divot in a wall, with branches forming a circular grid, the spaces in between filled in with leaves of all shapes and colors. To open them, all one had to do was approach and make a waving hand gesture, though some rooms required certain gestures or phrases to enter. When they did open, it wasn’t from side to side or in or out. Instead it spread out from the middle until it compressed entirely into the wall, despite there being no place for them to slide into.

There were all manners of paintings and decoration, but it was all clearly made of the same wood as the wall, and all colors therein were done using living flower petals. Anything meant to be metal was made of a smooth, hard wood that was easily as strong as normal steel. You could only tell they weren’t metal by its texture and the occasional knobs. It even softly reflected light.

Interesting as well was the lighting effect created between all these things; it created a dusky effect where nothing is necessarily brightly lit, but just so that you would never have trouble seeing things or discerning details. It adjusted to the individual perception, fit to the near blind and extremely light sensitive both.

Occasionally the walls themselves could be seen to move, wiggle or writhe, and every so often there was what appeared to be a face, or at least a three part arrangement of circles in the general shape of a face… Occasionally people could be seen turning to one of these and speaking to it, then responding to the ensuing silence as if a voice had responded.

All this beauty and enchanting effects made it clear who was new who wasn’t. Those not long here were prone to staring and wide eyed wonder, and for good reason; this was considered a feat of life magic equalled only by Fae Lords themselves. Even second years often got distracted by some detail they never noticed, or wasn’t present previously in many cases.

The room that Col was led to was a relatively wide communal eating space with walls absolutely covered by those three-circle almost-faces. These faces had small holes beneath them that dispensed spices or condiments requested of them, with seemingly few limitations, though no really substantive foodstuffs were produced. The seats and chairs were surprisingly normal, though they were attached firmly to the ground. Despite this, the chairs could easily be moved normally, though they couldn’t be lifted very high.

Once Col was seated, Koetta cleared her throat. “Right, so if you have a request I can bring it to the chefs that cook for our staff. We assure you, they are incredibly talented. No less than twenty years of varied cooking experience is required simply to apply, nevermind get hired. If you have a desire, we can almost certainly meet and exceed it. If you are uncertain, we can bring you a menu,” she stated, arms clasped behind her back and her expression carefully neutral. This adventurer didn’t feel like anything special… But it took very little time to realize they were more than met the eye. Not uncommon here, but they had an uncomfortable feel whenever they spoke.

The drow stared not at but through her, in such a way that it was hard to tell if he was thinking very hard or entirely spaced out. The long stare left the tan robed mage fidgeting. She had but tan robes, but this was only because she didn’t truly care to do magic herself. She had low magical power, because she didn’t care to raise it. But Koetta had in reality been working here for nearly fifteen years, seen many adventurers, students, and staff come and go in her perpetual technically low ranked researcher position. But this one… She hadn’t seen anyone like him. It was like if you looked just beneath the skin there would be something else altogether, something you didn’t necessarily want to know about. Something that would make you question reality.

“A full plate of steamed hubakao mushrooms seasoned liberally with whole aged barrow leaf,” replied the strange man, eye expressing clear entertainment. The order made Koetta physically flinch. What the fuck was he talking about? Habukao mushrooms were known to be extremely strong of flavor and even genuinely toxic in moderate amounts, to the point that using it as more than a small bit of garnish or flavoring for soup it would send even well experienced, poison resistant food connoisseurs to the bathroom to vomit heartily and for quite some time. It had never killed because no one had ever managed to eat enough of it while conscious, and you’d vomit it out before it could work even if force fed it. Barrow leaf… barrow leaf wasn’t even a seasoning. Barrow leaf was an alchemical ingredient used in careful doses for decay potions, and always carefully filtered to weaken its effects.

“Are you…” she began, both baffled and horrified, doing her best to hide it.

“Yes. Quite sure,” said the adventurer, his expression flat and unchanging.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to regain her composure, she cleared her throat and nodded. “Right. I will… return with your… meal,” she said, reticent to even call such an abomination food. He may as well have asked to eat a knife, or a big, hearty bowl of arsenic soup, garnished with raw roadkill.

But they… did offer him whatever meal he wished. She spoke to one of the wall faces to inform the Alchemy department of the need for whole aged Barrow Leaf for the kitchens. This gave even the dryad occupying this part of the building pause before the dark marks in the wall vanished as she departed. This was no doubt the strangest poisoning attempt either woman participating had ever experienced. The dryad she told his order to had the same response.

Despite the bizarre order, it took but a few minutes for his “food” to be completed. His food was delivered by trays floating of their own accord down from the ceiling. Koetta had no choice but to watch and wait while she watched this… this something… tuck in this dangerous concoction, eating it like it was a standard bayel mushroom and bay leaf salad. At this point a straight expression was impossible. She stared in open discomfort, wondering idly if she were speaking to some eldritch entity, maybe something sent as a joke by a master wizard somewhere that couldn’t be bothered to deliver his find himself.

Well it certainly wasn’t funny. This was incredibly distasteful and she’d see to it that whoever sent this… whatever it was would get a monster of a fine for sending such a bizarre entity to a place so highly populated without supervision.

He finished that meal with surprising swiftness considering what would be being done to the innards of any real drow, cleaning his mouth with a napkin before standing as his tray lifted away. “Very good,” he commented calmly, making her flinch again. Was she about to die or something? You never knew what these freakish Outer Realm summons would do.

“Um… yes, good… I’m glad you enjoyed. Now please, come with me. I shall lead you to the library,” Koetta said, giving him a strained smile. She was starting to resent this “person”. The pleasure in his eyes at her mounting unease was apparent, like a lantern in a cave.

The uneasy mage led him with perhaps impolite swiftness towards the library, scarcely giving him time to observe the school itself. They usually took it at a pace fit to show off a little, taking the long routes to take them by the most obviously impressive locations on the way to their destination. They had gotten numerous applicants because of this touring style. No such nicity here.

She took him through the “staff halls,” places that weren’t strictly off limits, but much more cramped and maze-like. They could get you where you were going in less than half the time the main paths took you, and had secret entrances and portals to all kinds of places in the school. It was heavily encouraged to avoid using these corridors, as, if a guest wandered off, they could get lost for some time, and have done so. Not to mention running across dangerous security measures, or right into rooms so rich with magic radiation that it gave you literal mutations and cancers. These rooms had magical markings that staff could see, but you needed specific authorization to be able to identify, as a security measure to handle intruders… or that was the guess. This school came packaged with many, many mysteries, and the documentation on the older rooms was so scarce it was virtually impossible to guess what they were even for in the first place.

A hidden door in the library opened near the back, but she encouraged him to stay in the corridor. “Do you have any texts or subjects in mind? I would be happy to retrieve them,” she said with a thin smile. This was… blatantly rude. Unacceptable for a host of any caliber, nevermind of the stringent qualities demanded of the staff of such a prestigious school. But she could not, physically could not, get away from him fast enough, and didn’t want to expose others to him. The longer she was around him the more threatened she felt for entirely intangible reasons, and the greater her unease grew. And that unease was already mountainous.

“Ah. I see. Of course. I would like…” he said, and began to list a string of books on alchemy of a thoroughly moderate difficulty level, as well as two tomes covering basics and somewhat more advanced subjects.

Yet more nonsense from this “guest.” His contribution of this egg was appreciated, but the fae nearby were uneasy with his mere presence, Koetta began to notice, a presence she’d become gradually aware of. A… predatory feeling, that being near him was a gamble. “I see. Very good. Should I have them delivered, or will you take them now?” She asked, trying to restrain herself from further avoidable rudeness. She wanted to get him out as of yesterday, but she didn’t want to incite an incident.

“I’ll take them,” he responded with a curt bow of his head. Responding to the bow, she entered the library and asked for the list from the dryad, who gave her an unspoken question of “What could one possibly need this combination of books for? The low-level texts would get one nowhere near what you’d need for the rest.” This made the mage take a deep breath to calm herself. “Just. Do. It. Please,” she said with clear agitation. The dryad rushed away, concerned at the behavior of the normally well-composed Koetta.

It didn’t take long to return, the texts wrapped in a paper like soft bark and in a soft cloth bag. She didn’t even check to make sure they were the right books; the dryads did impeccable work, and though it was protocol, she simply could not take the time to do so. Giving them over, she got another head bow in return, and she wordlessly led him back through the staff halls, ignoring the strange looks from the occasional other person she saw as she led him to a door that led to a dark, empty room adjacent to the main hall entryway. This room was crossed in a blink, a literal blink teleport spell, as she opened the door, and exited. When he followed, she led him once more to the front door, giving him a bow.

“Thank you very much for your contribution to the growing collective of magical knowledge, Adventurer Col,” she said with a carefully managed voice.

He merely smiled slightly and walked out the door, before pausing with his foot in a place that she could not close the door. “Ah. No problem. Before I go, actually. I’d like these delivered to the egg,” he said, setting the books on the ground.

The mage choked back an exclamation of “wait, WHAT?”. “I… see. Do you have reason to believe this egg will hatch something capable of understanding the nuances of alchemy?”

He simply gave her another smile, something that made her feel no better about him. “I do,” he said.

Internally she groaned. This meant someone needed to speak to him about specifics of why that would be.

That someone would not be her. “Ah. I see. We can do as you ask, but if I may, I’d like to ask you to wait for a moment. As it seems you do know something about this discovery, I’d like to get a researcher to see if they can gather what you’ve learned,” she said in her most polite manageable tones. He simply nodded again. She bowed politely and closed the door, vanishing back into the staff halls.

A few minutes later, she strode into the lab she had left from not even an hour ago. “Lady Sar. It would seem to be best we get another report from him concerning the events surrounding the egg. He… asked that we reserve the books he got for whatever hatches from it, and got books concerning mid-level Alchemy. It would seem he knows more than he said prior,” she said in a clearly irate tone, bowing.

The purple-robed elf turned from her papers, giving her an annoyed look. “I told you not an hour ago to mind… are you alright?” She asked, standing quickly, putting together Koetta’s tense behavior and crude tone. Lady Sar brushed her fingers through her long hair, as she did when she was nervous. “Yes. Of course, we’ll get someone there to do so shortly. Do you need to go for the day?”

The bowing inzi visibly deflated a bit. “Yes please. Thank you, Sar. I’ll… go do that,” she said with another bow, her great relief obvious in her tone as she backed into the staff hall door she just exited. Nothing was said about the lack of honorifics.

She needed a drink.