There was a peaceful din to the great hall. Most everyone sat in groups or with a partner, save for me, of course. Indifferently I raised the spoon to my mouth, more inhaling than chewing my hot mushroom stew. It had been a long day…

Sometime after I finished the mimic, eight professors and a few senior mages peaked their heads into the divine training room. It wasn’t very valiant or awe inspiring, but it was certainly the most prudent choice. I stared at them numbly as they warily made their way into the room, checking the ceiling and every dark corner just to be safe.

There were questions, and many strange looks. Fortunately, Melissa and Courtney’s story was similar to mine. Me and Tess charged the mimic, buying them time to escape. That part elicited the most doubt from everyone in the room. Particularly the idea that two natives of the Lodestone Republic willingly sacrificed themselves for other worlders. Yeah, it wasn’t the most convincing story.

I calmly explained my and Tess’s (*cough) logic that those two weren’t capable of buying us any time or advantage. I told them how I took the creature down after it tragically went for Tess first, claiming to’ve thrown a sleeping potion into one of its maws. Best to keep my powder to myself. Though there were reservations, there was no doubt from all the spear marks how exactly the mimic had been dealt with. There were some very intense questions about where the mimic came from, two professors giving me accusatory glares.

I don’t think that question was actually resolved. For my part, I calmy answered their inquiries, even the leading ones. The professors spoke to the others who’d been in the room and those in charge of the animals and preparations. They questioned everyone separately, only letting me go after speaking to the last senior divine mage. In the end there were no words of encouragement or thanks, no gratitude amongst mages.

I went to the water arcane class after going to my room for a short rest. Discounting my wounds and fatigue, it was a complete waste of time. The setup was similar to the Divine Mages’ Hall, minus the pink decor and tearoom. There was a main hall, decorated in blue with water arcane books and artifacts throughout. Several shallow channels of water flowed throughout the room. Numerous side doors led to different training chambers. Like my previous class, the senior mages broke off into groups with us, primarily teaching manipulation. Shaping was next week’s topic.

Begrudgingly I had to admit that Agrippina’s lessons had paid off. If not for the supposed damage to my soul, I would’ve just gone straight back to her office. Surprisingly, there were several men in the class along with me, two from Emerald, one form an onyx, two from Amethyst, and four mer, their scales and large glossy eyes off-putting. Of course, the other 140 were female, so I still felt less masculine. While I tried to downplay my abilities, our instructor was pleasantly surprised at my expertise. She was vaguely familiar to me, but I was too busy trying to keep focus to tell where I had seen her from.

It was a wasted two hours of what I’d already learned, but from what the instructor mentioned, the tattoos and spells we were practicing were only meant to prime the soul. Once a mage received their etching, their proficiency and growth were increased exponentially. At that stage, we could be taught a few useful spells for combat. As I still couldn’t kill anything or use any defensive spells, I began to wonder how many water mages ended up as glorified gardeners or well diggers.

The only thing that improved was my wand usage. I succeeded in utilizing my wand to better direct my power. There was no pain and my SP usage noticeably dropped. Though there was one issue in that using the wand felt off, not wrong or ominous like the divine, just, off… It was similar to wearing gloves; while your hands were protected and insulated, you lost dexterity and fine control in the process. My manipulating and shaping skills were ahead of the current class, but using a wand it was more difficult and nowhere near my previous abilities. I barely could form a large sphere, much less a cube.

That being said, maybe my injuries and incapability of giving a damn were affecting my arcane. Either way I survived the class and agreed to meet my instructor for lunch the next day. She was striking; lustrous long blonde hair, a tall figure, and well-endowed breasts. Something in the back of my mind screamed this was wrong, but I ignored it. For better or worse I’d find out come the morrow when my head cleared. I headed back to my room for what would be a twenty-minute respite before I restlessly left again.

Now I found myself in the great hall, neither enjoying nor disliking my stew. I sat in my usual corner, my vigilance set to minimum. I was almost hoping something would end me, then I wouldn’t have to make my way back to my room just to fail one more Godsdamn time today. No, I would succeed the next time, I knew what needed to be done. Just, Ah… I really didn’t want to deal with this, or worse, anyone. Ah, sooner or later I’d have to face the dreaded question, some things just couldn’t be avoided.

My mind began to wander back to the mimic. Nine divine mages were dead, only four of them left in enough pieces to warrant a funeral pyre for two. I was glad to have survived, but the event was grating on me. It wasn’t the loss of life that was getting to me, I hadn’t been really acquainted with any of the victims to feel true sorrow for them. It also wasn’t the fact that a brutal monster somehow got past the Spire’s defenses, walls only offered so much protection.

No, it was the blood, the bountiful pools of it. It reminded me of the end of my foris magister training. I thought back to that day, 6 dead, five later missing/murdered, two broken legs, and the question. It took months for my legs to heal, but far worse had been that singular query. Day in and out, whether my parents, siblings, neighbors, or strangers, always the same Godsdamn question presented itself, feigning that the actual pretext didn’t exist.

“Hey, Tome! How are you?”

What? No, that wasn’t the question. Looking up from my thoughts, I saw the only thing that could possibly make my day worse…

“G, good, Kevin, and you?”

“Not bad, uh, you mind if me and Mintha join you?”

I gave a weak smile and beckoned to the empty spaces in front of me, which the two quickly occupied. While I wasn’t keen on company, I knew it was the polite choice. In the back of my mind there was the knowledge of why I accepted their company, but I ignored it. No, I was being hospitable, nothing more…

“Man, did you hear what happened to the divine students!?”

“Yeah…” I mumbled, of course it’d be common knowledge by now.

Kevin nodded, “I heard twenty mages were dead!”

Good to see the accuracy of rumors in the Spire was the same as everywhere else.

“N-no, only nine.”

“Oh, well, that’s still a lot!”

Silently I nodded, taking another spoonful of my soup. Ack, it was cold. How long had I been sitting here?

“I’m glad to see that you’re unhurt,” Mintha said, her face still hidden within her robe.

“Huh, why?”

“Kevin, Tome’s a water and divine mage.”

“Oh, Jeez! Sorry Tome, I, didn’t know!”

Yeah, I only told you half a dozen times, not your fault for not listening.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, I got to safety early, the other mages took care of it,” I lied.

“Are you sure you’re alright? From what I heard, it was very… Disturbing.”

Every muscle tensed at once, the fake smile frozen on my face. Bitch. All this time, never once had anyone asked me… Once someone started asking…

“Oh yeah, Tome, are you okay?”

There it was, the second shoe. I could almost feel others preparing to fall as well.

“I’m fine,” I tried to keep my voice civil, I really did.

“Whoa, what’s up with you? We’re just worried…” Kevin asked.

“I said I’m fine, drop it!”

“We apologize,” Mintha held up her hands, “Please, we’re just concerned, that’s all.”

“Huh? But he’s the one…”

“Stop it Kevin!” Mintha cautioned.

His look of confusion grew as he reluctantly closed his mouth. She turned to me.

“It’s been a hard day, you’ve lost fellow mages, we wished to discuss something with you, but now would seem to be a poor time. May we meet up with you tomorrow instead?”

The tension eased a fraction, “Sure, let’s meet for lun… Uh, no, uh, let’s make it dinner, if that’s alright.”

She nodded, “Let’s go Kevin.”

“But why not now?”

“KEVIN, come on, he needs some time to himself.”

Mintha mercifully dragged Kevin away, allowing me my solitude. Thank the Gods for her quick thinking or else I may have said something I couldn’t take back. It wasn’t their fault, but I still blamed them for how I felt. The question was merely the more visible issue. Let everyone hate me, let them despise me, hell, let them all come at me. I hated being the object of scorn, worse I hated being pitied, and the worst…. This was now the third time in my life I had to deal with the question, the looks, and the doubt.

It began innocently enough, someone asking out of genuine concern. Then another person, somewhat worried, another one, only half concerned, and finally the multitude, out of habit. What was worse was that no matter how many times you said it was alright, they wouldn’t believe you.

My mother put these thoughts to words for the first time in my life, “Your friends are dead! They were butchered right in front of you, and your injuries! Stop Lying, Tome, you’re not alright!”

Not only did I have to bear the guilt of surviving alone, but I was a filthy liar too?! They heaped on me their pity, sympathy, and sentiments. I just wanted to be normal, I wanted to forget as much of the events as I could. I wanted to be left the hell alone. Deep down, I knew what my mother and most were really asking. My spirit may have been affected, but my eyes were untouched. I saw that glint in her eyes, that satisfaction of seeing me fall and praying it was further than she could ascertain. Most who asked had the same look, whether they were conscious of it or not. I had fallen, yes, the hell if I’d stay down, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction they so craved.

The neighbors were the next, “You’ve only just recovered, and you still haven’t dealt with the pain! You need to see one of the priests or priestesses, talk with them, let them help you sort things out!”

The ones that actually cared, they meant what they said, desiring to help me. They assumed it was out of kindness, but in their eyes I saw their truth as well. Doubt, doubt in my words, doubt in my humanity, doubt in my sanity. They wanted me to seek help because they feared I’d snap; feared I’d be as weak as those other worlders. I kept my mouth shut and endured/survived. I knew what happened to people like me, the same thing that would be done to any cheap tool. Some things can’t be fixed, but that’s assuming they were broken. If anything, I was chipped, and that could be ground back into shape.

Equal in my loathing of the question was my epiphany of the value of others when I first realized the truth. I felt safer with Kevin and his coterie around, my odds of survival increasing significantly when I was in a group. This was something I could not tolerate. I slammed the table, trying to convince myself of the logic of a group. I failed, as I knew firsthand the primary value of any group, and it was not strength. Even if they didn’t betray me, there was no group, only the…

I dropped my pondering, realizing that I had tarried for another long stretch of time. I needed to get back to my room before word spread. It was doubtful if anyone else would ask me, but the pitiful looks would soon begin. I left my unfinished meal and went straight to the kitchen counter, seeing Miss Helminth.

“Humph, heard you survived, by the skin of your teeth,”

“Yeah,” I muttered, just waiting for the third shoe to drop.

“Try not to get yourself in trouble, else I’d have to deal with Virgil again!”

She gave me a dirty look, full of indignation. I smiled, the tension finally falling away.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me!? The hell! You hit your head too!? By the Gods you incompetent…”

I happily listened to her ridicule me, content that nothing had changed between us. Eventually I had to come back to reality and make my request.

“I need five pounds of salt.”

“Five pounds of salt?! You opening another kitchen?”

“An, an experiment, don’t worry, I have the coins, feel free to charge extra for the trouble.”

Salt wasn’t overly expensive, but it wasn’t cheap. The state owned the rights to all salt and lodestone, and taxed them accordingly to fill their coffers.

“Gods boy, you’re not asking for a pinch are you?” She propped her head up with one hand, elbow anchored to the counter. She slowly sighed.

“Alright, I’ll sell it to you at cost, for one favor.”

“Sure, what do you need.”

“Don’t you ever dare come to me with your problems. You need some to talk to, or to bawl your eyes out, use your pillow or go to a brothel, not here.”

The tension finally subsided, and my eyes misted. The head of the kitchen looked at me in disgust as she lethargically went to fulfill my request. Hatred, loathing, scorn, emotions I would normally abhor, were so much more welcome than that damned question. Gods, just how far did my expectations have to sink in even normal conversations?

--------------------------------------------------

The horrors we face bow or kill most men, but will sometimes unfortunately break them. While killing them would be a mercy, appearances must be kept. These poor souls need to be deposited at the nearest Temple of Demerus or Arodite for care. Afterwards, if their condition is truly severe, they are to be sent to the nearest sanitarium for care. Actual care, mind you, harm is only permitted when began by them.

The donations more than allow for these churches to support the sanitariums that deal with the disorders that neither physicians nor clerics can treat. Upon arrival, the patient’s information must be collected and immediately dispatched to the nearest authorities, afflicted they may be, but caution must be exercised.

Most often these poor souls will be too burdened to be a threat, but should they snap, the authorities must be ready to put them down at a moment’s notice. The Republic faces enough threats from within without adding more. In addition, be wary of those inflicted by the Tenebrae, they must be put down immediately upon discovery. The effects of this malady are nearly equal to the carnage caused by the Nonchalance Personage Condition that afflicts certain other worlders.

-Gallus Seneca, Chief Foris Magister.