"And don't worry. I'll handle this." Said Harken, a light forming in his hands as he pointed it at the base of the statuette.

The light shot out of his hands towards the dog, hitting it and mysteriously, passing through, without damaging it.

"That did nothing!" Mazran screamed in fear and prepared to run, when Harken grabbed him by his collar.

"I said, wait and watch."

The dog statuette's eyes shined a creepy red and it pounced off its perch, right at them, the sharp teeth reaching for Harken's throat.

Just as it was about to clamp down on him, the light vanished from it's eyes and it fell to the ground, docile, before getting up and returning to its perch.

The flashing lights stopped and the alarm shut off abruptly as if it had never even rung and peace returned to the dormitory.

"How did you do that?" Asked Mazran, impressed.

"I don't know. It's just a neat trick I learnt from a friend. If you want to know more, you'll need to ask a formation expert about it. I work in mutations. I know very little about how these things work. "replied Harken, gesturing at the formation carved into the building from floor to ceiling.

"Now quick. Get in before it starts again." Said Harken.

Mazran rushed into the dormitory and looked back at the statuette. Seeing that it wasn't moving he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't dally around. We have a lot of stairs to climb."

"How many?"

"Well that depends. But in our case," said Harken, pulling out a paper slip from the bag, read out loud, "H-188. So about seven flights."

Seven flights!

Mazran's jaw dropped in shock.

He would have to walk up and down seven flight of stairs at least twice a day.

Harken looked at Mazran's distress with amusement as they climbed.

"You'll get used to it in time." He said. "Besides it's good exercise. Not to mention it serves as a motivational tool too. It sends a message to the students. If you don't want to climb the stairs, work hard, practice and advance to the rank of magus. Official magi get their own villas, complete with particle pools and private laboratories. As for the rank 2 magi? They get their own towers!" Added Harken, looking out the second floor window in admiration.

Mazran followed his gaze, leaning out of the window, and spotted a line of equidistant spires towering above the campus, running across the edges of the academy, as far as the eye could see, each with their own unique and colorful designs.

Mazran imagined his own tower, and what he would want it to be.

"How long does it take to become a rank 2 magus?" He asked.

"Rank 2? What's the hurry? Besides becoming a rank 1 magus is hard enough. Look at me. I'm thirty two and I'm still a rank 3 acolyte. Though that may be more due my talent grade than anything else. I'll be lucky to reach the rank of magus by the time I'm a hundred or so."

"What was your talent grade?" Asked Mazran.

"Grade 2 - Water attribute." Harken answered.

"Then what about me? How long will it take me?"

"You? With your grade 3 talent, if you work hard, at around 60 years. And you're one of the luckier ones. You have a 10 to 15 percent chance at becoming a magus."

"10 percent? That's so low!" Exclaimed Mazran.

"That's better than the 1 to 2 percent chance that grade 2 talents have." Said Harken.

"Are there grade 4 talents or grade 5 ones?"

"Yes. There are grade 4 and 5 talents. Grade 4 talents have about a 40 percent chance at becoming a magus. As for the grade 5 talents? They are the truly gifted ones. They have a nearly 70 to 75 percent chance at it. If and not when, any of these talents are discovered, they are immediately taken in as legacy seeds by those who find them. They have access to the best of resources and private tutelage. They don't even have to work for any of it. Everything is free for them. The only catch is that they have to practice constantly in isolation until they are official magi before they are allowed to leave their magisteriums and experience life. Not that it takes them long to do so. Most become official magi by the age of twenty. People like us have almost no chance to even see them, much less be like them. We can only dream of what it is like to be so blessed." Harken noted with melancholy.

"Are they really that rare?" Asked Mazran.

"Let me put it like this. There are about a billion people in the world. Of those 1 in 7000 can harness magic. That makes about 160000 people. Of these, today, there are less than 300 grade 5 talents.

300 in a billion people. From the start of the Beqepan Age to this day, nearly 1200 years, there have been less than 500 grade 5 talents in total. If it weren't for the absurdly long lifespans of magi, you wouldn't see more than 20 of them alive in this day and age."

"How long do magi live?"

"That depends. On average acolytes can live for anywhere from 100 to 150 years of age. Rank 1 magi tend to live in excess of 300 years. Rank 2 have beeen known to survive for upto 500. Rank 3, I think had a lifespan of about 800 to 900 years. As for the rank 4 and above, only they know how long they can live for."

"So the rank 3 magi can live for 1600 years?" Asked Mazran.

"What? No. That's not how it works. Rank 3 magi can live for only upto a about 800 years or so. With each rise in rank, the lifespan increases by a certain amount. It depends on when they advance to said rank."

"So if someone became a rank 1 magus at the age of 150, they would die?"

"No. Firstly, no one becomes a magus at 150. Secondly, even if they somehow did become one, they would only live for about 30 more years. The earlier you advance the longer the lifespan." Harken clarified.

Mazran felt a strange fear creep into him. If he advanced to the rank of magus at 60, how long would he have left to live? Would he also die before 200? Death. He thought. He couldn't imagine what it was like to not be alive.

Nonononono. He didn't want to die. He couldn't die. No.

Mazran's breathing grew ragged as he began to panic, his thoughts caught in a vicious loop.

Harken looked at the boy, and shook his head.

He reached for his face and slapped it with both his hands.

"Hey! You're going down this once again! What's the problem with you kid? Stop overthinking things!" He screamed into Mazran's face.

Mazran shook out of his thoughts and looked down at himself, his hands shaking something fierce.

"Com on. Once more. Follow me. Breathe in, .... breathe out. Once more, " said Harken, still holding Mazran's face in his hands, "breathe in, breathe out. Good. Keep doing that. You'll really need to make a habit of it if you keep acting like that."

"Sorry." Said Mazran, "I'm just.."

"Just what? Aaand you stopped doing it. No! You have to continue with it. Come on." Nudged Harken.

Mazran nodded and took another deep breath in and a deep breath out.

"Good. Come this way. There's your room. H-188. You can open it the same way you open the dorm doors. With your ID." He said, inserting the ID into a vertical slot in the door.

Clack!

The door opened, revealing a cream coloured room 11 by 12 feet in size, a bed and almirah in one corner, a table and chair by the opposite wall. In the farthest corner from the door, on a depressed platform lay a glass case twice Mazran's height. Within it lay a toilet and shower. The same sandalwood scent emanated from the room as with the rest of the dormitory, exerting a pleasant, calming influence upon him.

"Before I leave you to it," said Harken, attracting Mazran's attention, "there's a couple more things you should know."

Harken pulled out a thick pamphlet from the rucksack, and continued, "This is the academy guide. In here you'll find a lot of things, your schedule, the contract details, campus rules, among others. On the back," he added, flipping the pamphlet over, and unfolding the last page, " is a map of the campus. Until you are used to walking around, keep this on you at all times. Also," he said pointing at the ID imprint, "keep this with you at all times too. Now, when you inevitably lose your ID, immediately go to the administrative complex and find the security cabin. Ask the guards for help and they'll get you another one. Did you get all that?"

Mazran nodded.

"Good. Now get settled. Lunch starts in a half hour. And give me my water bottle back. There's one for you in the rucksack." He said, pointing at the bottle Mazran was still holding in his hand.

"Ah..sorry." Mazran replied, handing the bottle over.

"Don't be. Also, one last thing, don't be late for tomorrow's lecture. That's where you'll get your meditation techniques and the first round of stipends. Remember tution is free for the first year, and you'll get a stipend from the academy, so use that year judiciously. Don't waste your time playing around. You'll end up regretting it if you do. See you around!" Harken warned before waving goodbye.

Once he had left, Mazran closed the door behind him and fell onto the bed exhausted from the long walk over and the emotional slide downhill.

Picking up the academy guide, he thumbed through the pages and came to a stop at the contract.

Opening the page in full, he began reading,

Hereby established is a contract with the Blind Spectre of Justice as witness, I, the signatory, declare that I shall abide by the following terms, upon penalty of death.

1. If I do not reach the rank of acolyte by the end of a period of one year from the moment of signing, I shall agree to be part in any experiments to the benefit of the academy at their request.

2. At any point in time, should the academy require it of me, I shall take part in any conflict pertaining to the academy's benefit even to my detriment.

3. I pledge not to reveal any information unique to the academy and its research to anyone not deemed to be part of the academy.

4. I pledge to contribute to the academy and its progress to the best of my ability, as and when it is required of me.

"That's such horsecrap! It's completely unreasonable. What if I don't make it to the rank of acolyte by the end of the year? Will I be treated like a fucking guinea pig?" Mazran exclaimed out loud, beginning to hyperventilate.

This time however he remembered Harken's advice, breathing in deeply and breathing it right out, calming right back down.

Maybe I should go get some lunch to get my mind off of this? He thought.

His stomach rumbled as he thought about it.

"Lunch it is!" He said.

Mazran flipped the pamphlet over and carefully tore out the map, stuffing it in his pocket. He got off the bed, opened the glass door of the shower and washed his face clean.

Looking at his now wet clothes, Mazran realized - he hadn't brought any clothes!

He remembered seeing a robe in the rucksack, maybe that would do for now. He thought.

He opened the rucksack wide and found two sets of clothes folded into one another. Two robes, one black and one white, two shirts, pants, and a half dozen pairs of socks. One belt, one towel and four loincloths. And a pair of boots made from some unknown material.

Mazran sighed in relief. At least he had clothes. For now. He'd need to see about getting more in due time.

Changing into the slightly oversized garments, he picked up his wet ones and lay them out over the chair and table to dry.

He reached into the pant pocket and pulled out the now damp map and carefully placed it in his robe.

Finally, picking up his ID imprint from the bed, he exited the room for lunch.