Wilt was working at the library. It belonged to his father, but he did most of the work for it. It wasn’t because his father wasn’t willing, rather, Wilt just enjoyed doing it. He had a book laid out before him while he stood behind a thick wooden counter. There was a stack of books besides this one, and his eyes kept wandering to the stack. He sighed as he realized only one of the books had been taken, despite his best efforts to get people to grab it. His father had written it, and insisted on making him recommend it to everyone that walked in. Well, the fact that Wilt had managed to get even one book picked up was a miracle.

It wasn’t that the story was bad. In fact, it was probably one of the better books for describing the biggest events of the past decade, but its title was just so bad. One look at it and he knew that he wouldn’t think of reading it. He shook his head as he looked at the plain and boring title.

The 15 Greatest Events in the Past Decade from the Perspective of a Humble Librarian by Leopold Wilton

How his father had decided to use that was beyond Wilt, and he could only try to hide his embarrassment as he recommend it to people. He went by Wilt, and everyone who visited the library knew him by that name. Honestly, everyone knew who his father was, and every single person so far had pointed out the book when they saw it. They wouldn’t read it, but also spared no expense at embarrassing Wilt. It bothered him slightly, though he knew that if he didn’t recommend the book, his father would manage to hear about it. He wasn’t sure if this was better than getting an earful from his father.

He turned the page, realizing that he had been lingering after he finished reading it. However, he didn’t get to start reading the next page, as he was interrupted by the door creaking open. Wilt had tried to fix the door, but he was stopped by his father. His father asked him how he would know when someone entered if the door didn’t make any noise. Even his mother had agreed to leave the door as it was and so it remained. Raising his head, Wilt was surprised to see an unfamiliar face. It wasn’t impossible for new people to come to the library, but it was rare enough that it took Wilt a second to stop staring.

Seeing someone new wasn’t enough to trap his attention, instead, it was the fact that said person was extremely beautiful. She was stunning, and he couldn’t help but gawk at her. The first thing he noticed was her unusual style of dress, mainly because of how it clung to her body. It wasn’t revealing or anything like that, but it looked more like a suit that a man would wear. It fit her perfectly, and Wilt idly wished that more women dressed that way. Maybe he should ask her about where she’s from. There was a small chance he could visit her hometown, but it was something he would consider now.

Quickly adjusting to the customer, he met her eyes and was surprised to meet a youthful face. She looked like she was maybe eight or nine years older than him, though her narrow analytical eyes belonged on someone far older. Gazing into them, he found himself lost in the oddly purple sheen of her eyes. It turned her beauty into something otherworldly, and more importantly, marked her as a chanter. He swallowed hard enough that it strained his throat, and he immediately straightened his posture. She was clearly looking at him, and he wanted to make sure to avoid offending her.

“Hello, Ma’am. Welcome to our humble library, what can I do for you?

That sounded good, but seeing her face contort in confusion, he knew he had made a mistake. Unsure of what to do, he could feel some sweat building on his forehead and tried desperately to hold it back. That, of course, only did the opposite.

“Hello, Mr. Wilton. I am Janette Soramore, and I believe you should have received a letter about my arrival three days ago. I am from the I.C.S. and am here to pick you up and discuss your orientation.”

There was a hint of amusement in her voice, and he had an easy time picking it out. It was so very much like how his mother spoke to him. Wilt knew of the letter that she was talking about and could picture it within his mind and practically see it unopened in his bedroom. He had applied for the I.C.S. but had been too frightened to see what the results had been. He figured he would have a few weeks to check the contents of the letter, but that was obviously wrong. Honestly, he didn’t think he could get in, and more urgently he still needed to tell his parents.

The biggest concern though was figuring out how to respond to Janette. He had heard that name before and wanted to run away as he remembered that there was a councilor with that name. Well, this situation couldn’t get much worse. Lying to her would be impossible, and refusal would probably mean imprisonment. Well, he had always striven to be an honest man.

“Uh, I kind of assumed I would be rejected, and don’t have anything prepared… and I still need to talk to my parents and….”

He trailed off for a second, thinking that he must have fallen asleep. It wasn’t impossible, though he rarely did that while he was reading. However, he knew that this was reality, and thought of a better solution.

“Ok. Let me get my parents and then we can do the orientation thing while my sister packs my stuff.”

She nodded as he spoke but seemed to freeze upon hearing he had a sister. He narrowed his eyes, wondering why a councilor would be interested in his younger sister. She seemed to catch his eyes and explained herself.

“Sorry about that. It’s rare for someone to have as much potential as you, and that usually means your sister would have a similar opportunity. As such, I would like to check, if you don’t mind.”

That made sense he guessed. Wait, no it didn’t. His parents didn’t have an ounce of Ein in them, and yet he knew he had some. Asking seemed like the easiest way to understand, and she seemed willing to answer.

“How does that work? Neither of my parents are chanters, but you’re saying my sister is likely to be one because I am.”

“This is something you would have learned in class, but I will answer your question. While it is commonly believed that people are either chanters or not, that is not actually true. Someone can have the possibility to be a chanter, but never actually perform any chants. Imagine it like this. Let’s say one of your parents has blond hair and one has brown. In that situation, you would most likely have brown hair but there is a chance that you end up with blond hair. Even if that chance never manifests it's still there. Now let’s say, both your parents had blond hair, but both also had the possibility of having brown hair. Then there would be a chance that you have brown hair, inherited from both of their possibilities. It works the same for being a chanter.”

The councilor spoke confidently, her whole demeanor changing to that of an instructor. He was surprised at how brief yet thorough the lesson had been. He instantly understood what she had meant and could extrapolate as to why she wanted to check his little sister. He might have been unconsciously doubting her identity, but that had been the best kind of identification. Nodding in understanding, he responded quickly.

"Of course, just give me a minute.”

Not hesitating in the slightest, Wilt bolted behind a nearby door. He needed time to think, and this sounded like a good opportunity to find some.

The library was connected to his house, and this door led directly into his home. The library had two floors, and the desk was against one of the sides of the building. The door simply connected two adjacent buildings, letting him slip between each quickly. He didn’t bother closing the place or watching the councilor. If she wanted to take something, he was sure nobody could stop her.

First, he would find his parents. They would be able to offer some guidance, and hopefully know how to treat someone like a councilor. Dashing through the rooms, he headed towards the kitchen. His mother liked to cook, and his father hovered around her all the time. That made finding them easy, but it wouldn’t make the explanation any easier.

Sometime later, Wilt found himself waving to his family in goodbye. He was standing on an odd circle that the councilor had drawn while he packed. The councilor was truly an incredible person. Only the most capable of people could convince my mother to do anything, let alone send her son away to a school in a last-minute decision. At least that was what he thought. That was until his mother informed them that she already knew. Apparently, she had seen the unopened letter and decided it should be read, and then she found it prudent to not say a word to Wilt. His mother’s desire to see him embarrassed was enough to banish all doubts from his mind; he needed to get out of the house.

However, that last thought was a bit bitter. It was followed by a twinge of sadness as he remembered what the councilor had said. His sister had a small talent, but it sadly wasn’t large enough to let her join the institute. There was a chance it could still develop later, but she would probably need to develop other talents if she wanted to enter the institute. Wilt hoped her talent would bloom since it had been a dream of hers.

Waving to his sister, he needed to fight back his own tears. The crestfallen look that crossed her face, almost made him stay back. She had bright blond hair, but it was matted with tears and clung to her face as she faced the ground.

“See you all soon!”

He couldn’t keep all the sadness from his voice. The statement was mostly true. New students were required to spend one full month at the school before being allowed to leave campus. It had something to do with getting the basics and weeding out those who slipped by the application on luck. Wilt was a bit too clever for that explanation though and guessed there was another reason for this rule. After all, there had to be a reason why he was being teleported to the institute, rather than taking the half an hour walk to get there. His sister raised her head, and it seemed like she would say something, but never got the chance.

A flash of light swallowed him, and before he realized it, he was standing at an unfamiliar entrance. His first instinct was to panic as he noticed that this wasn’t the institute. However, the feeling quickly passed as he remembered that this was not the main entrance to the building. This was actually the entrance to the dormitory, and a cursory glance around showed him students entering and leaving the building. Even after all the documents and authentication, he had still been afraid to trust the councilor. Only when his eyes finally found the I.C.S. did his shoulders slump. They sagged against his body, his hands acting as weights.

“Sorry about that. And yes, my timing is usually that bad. Well, I trust you remember my instructions, and I really must be on my way. Welcome to the I.C.S!”

She said the last part while walking towards the main building. Several heads were turned towards him, and he wondered if the councilor had picked him up because he had missed something important. They wouldn’t send a councilor for a job like that, would they?

The question buzzed in his mind, as he fervently moved. He didn’t like being the center of attention. Running would’ve been preferred, but his carrying case was too heavy for that. It was filled with essentials, which mainly meant cleaning supplies, and regretfully two copies of his father’s book. Even the councilor had picked up a copy, stating how impressive it was that a commoner had managed to write such a complete history. His father had puffed up at those words, and Wilt started shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts. Staring up at the enormous dormitory, he accepted that he had bigger things to deal with right now.