The path ahead appeared brighter than any other portion of our travel, and I was anxious to hurry ahead. The air within the veil was tepid and stale, and though the air of the forest was less smothering, both were dwarfed by the sheer purity of the breeze coming from the light ahead.

As we broke the treeline, the familiar shade of the forest yielded to an unobstructed and vast open field of tall amber grass swaying in gentle waves as far as I could see before the humidity shrouded the distance. Once we breached the edge of the plains, the absolute beauty of the land overwhelmed me. Rolling foothills draped in layers of shimmering grass reflected the sky - the pure, natural sky - and returned to the natural blue I remembered before the tree creature appeared. Crisp and tangible proof of what my memory of the deep and dark sky looked like was brought back to the forefront of my mind, renewed by the freshness of this field. I’d spent so long beneath the overgrown crowns of the forest I had forgotten what a pure, open sky looked like. I was so thrilled to feel the wind across my face I stopped in place to take in the feeling.

I could barely see Corbal over the grass when he called for me to pay attention and follow him, and when I pulled my attention from the vastness of the plains, I lay my eyes on something monstrous, something more massive than anything I could have imagined before in my life. As large as a mountain, this giant blocky structure overshadowed even the immensely wide plains it rose from. They must have removed the skirt of an entire mountain and left the core to be carved. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many generations of labor this took, how many seasons of logging and hauling giant stones its creation demanded. The stone glistened in the early afternoon sun, somehow shining despite the morning dew’s evaporation.

Corbal, a good way ahead of me, noticed that I’ve stopped and turned back to me with a smile. “I guess this is a little bigger than a village, huh? C’mon, we’re closer than ever!” The tall grass was soft beneath my feet, wind-blown and gentle. A half hour later, we walked on a well-worn dirt path much wider than any I’d seen in my village. Even lying down with my arms raised, I wouldn’t be able to touch the grass on either side.

I took a moment to consider just how far removed I’ve become from my village life. It all seemed so far away. There I was now, at the start of a new life in a new world. With a new friend. It was a deceptively lengthy walk from here, so I had time to think before we arrived at the gate. Even so far from its beautiful tower, I had to crane my head to see the top. A flag waved in the wind but I couldn’t make out any details except a blue and gray color pattern that ended in gold tassels whipping in the high breeze.

As we came closer to the heavy gated entryway, two guards clothed in the same colors as the flag straightened their postures. Their shoulders and head were adorned in a thick reflective material that, while appearing strong, is betrayed by tiny scratches on the edges. I almost reached out to touch it but I stopped upon seeing my reflection in the huge axe in his leather-gloved hands. Somehow the blade was inlaid with beautiful swooping decorations and symbols indecipherable to me.

The tall and sturdy guard beside the equally tall and sturdy door silently eyed me with caution, and I stood upright and followed suit. I didn’t know what to expect here. After a brief conversation with Corbal, he gave us a nod and called to open the heavy wood door. I assumed it would creak or groan, or some other appropriate complaint for a door its size, but it opened soundlessly. I admired the handiwork. Corbal nudged me forward as a guide.

Within the gated wall was a deceivingly large courtyard with perfect short grass with wide inlaid stone paths cutting through ergonomically, the edges marked by carefully trimmed shrubbery and flowers. Some petal shapes I knew, but most, having been cultivated in a place I’d never before laid eyes on, were clearly unfamiliar to me. The flora was naturally alluring with beautiful patterns of colors, but what further captivated my attention was the number of people gathered in varying groups, chattering, talking among themselves at covered tables and benches.

Never before had I seen so many different people in one place- some were short, like Corbal, others stately and broad-chested, though most were around my healthy and well-fed stature. Only a couple seemed as thin as myself in my current state. I remembered what Corbal said when we first met about my lack of travel, and tried not to stare for too long at any particular place or person. I felt a trace of dizziness that could not be attributed to missing meals, having eaten this morning. I wondered through my fascination if culture shock could cause vertigo.

The inside of the RASA mirrored the exterior: a sparkling palace of polished rock and pillars. The halls were heavily populated with various inhabitants of varying builds and colors, but mostly humans of varying shades and builds. Most were lighter skinned than me. Everybody seemed so busy here. The echoes caught my attention – every footstep and voice reverberated against these flat walls. I couldn’t focus on any one thing for long. I heard so many sounds at once: a cough, muffled conversations, taps of footsteps, the shuffling of papers…

As I stood in the main hall, students paused to subtly gawk at my malnourished body before hurrying off; I’m thankful my brand was covered, even barely by my threadbare clothing. With a huff, Corbal took my hand and made a path through the crowd. His hand was so small in difference to my own. They all appeared to see him despite his height, and I remembered they had more time to become familiar with him than the six days I had. I felt like a mindless beast at the plow led by the farmhand, which suited me just fine. With Corbal taking the burden of navigation, I had time to study my new surroundings. Faces passed, most around my height, and while some turned away shortly after meeting my eyes, one held contact for an uncomfortable time. Her face was framed with shoulder length blonde braids, and she looked older than what I imagine a student would.

The floor was warm despite being comprised of shining stone slabs and I wondered if I’d get shoes. Was it rude to traverse these grand halls, openly leaving traces of dirt? How do they even keep such a place so spotless? Corbal mentioned arrangements- I’d have to see what they will be. For now, he suggested we swing by his office. I assumed arrangements would be taken care of when he had time to think and unpack.

The door to his office was beautifully carved solid wood with the same material as his glasses at the top. The way the light focused and danced rainbows through the transparent pane brought me a sense of invitation. Corbal fumbled with his bag, digging around and apparently not finding what he needed, and after his frustration reached some unspoken limit, stopped searching. With a sigh, he pulled a smaller key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. The following click seemed too small for such a grand door and it opened as though paper light. “Come on in, pardon the mess. I left in a hurry.”

The first thing I noticed in his office was sunlight pouring in through a large window overseeing an enclosed, grassy field. The room was warmed by its heat. Its frame was delicately carved, not unlike the doorframe, but of different groups of similar patterns. I refused to believe a single woodworker carved all of them due to their progressive differences. They appeared to be carved in sequence over many years, with markedly varying periods and groupings of embellishments. The ones at my eye level were smoother, more delicately made. “I’m not much of an artist, but I have gotten better, if I do say so myself!” Corbal said, chuckling to himself. How he knew I was examining them, I didn’t know.

“Did you carve all of these?” I asked, though I knew the answer.

He continued unpacking his suspiciously deep-pocketed bag into drawers as he replied, “I’ve gotten better with time. I started with the very bottom of the windowsill when I started teaching here – that was in my early career. Then they gave me a ladder, and I was free to vandalize the entire frame.” The well-worn ladder hung near the window on some kind of rail. I would have stepped over to touch it if there weren’t piles upon piles of books haphazardly blocking the path. Actually, there were books everywhere; the walls were lined with symmetrical rows, each somehow overstuffed with journals and looseleaf papers. If I didn’t know better, I thought they’d burst at the slightest touch.

Wherever space was uncluttered by books, strange shining structures sat among smaller, less-interesting baubles. One object in particular stood out: a golden collection of concentric circles all moving within themselves on their own. I wondered if the edges were sharp, but I was afraid to find out. At this point, after everything I’d seen and done, not much could surprise me.

As I surveyed his office in wonder, Corbal shuffled around and unpacked his bag, expertly navigating the book piles. There was a door in the corner of the room, smaller and less adorned than the entrance which he went through a few times. Following the first disappearance, he returned wearing new clothing, sporting ruffled hair. It must be a bedroom of sorts. On the wall beside the door was a huge lattice of tiny drawers, some pulled out and open, others with leaves and materials poking out. This must be where he keeps his animancy materials.

My view finally settled on the desk in the sunlight near the window and the small stool behind it. I half expected the furniture to be made smaller to accommodate his short reach, but it seemed fit for someone my size. Like answering my unasked question on purpose, sticks with looped and hooked ends came into view. Even agile and sprightly as Corbal was, I supposed the toil of getting up to gather materials necessitated an easier way.

"Follow me, we need to see the Headmaster now that I've returned. Her office is a couple floors above mine," Corbal announced before leading me out of his own office into the hallway.

Corbal locked the door before bounding up the huge glossy stairs, and I thought to myself the sheer size of this place. Floors? How can there be more than one? Just how grand was this place?

The open hallway at the top of the stairs had a railing overlooking the main atrium we first entered through, and the distance from the ground floor was dizzying. I had to steady myself against the carved railing for fear of slipping over to my death. To distract myself from the vertigo, I turned to see Corbal straightening his robes and smoothing his hair. I looked over my own apparel, or what might have once qualified for apparel, and shrugged my shoulders. There was nothing I could do about it now. I had grown accustomed to the odors of unwashed skin, which in hindsight likely caused some gawking from the students as well. The heavy doors opened and revealed a pristine and somehow unhomely office with glossy redwood furniture and a single stately woman staring back.

Something about her silently commanded formal gestures and subtle flattery, an unspoken rule consented to by merely occupying the same room. In her presence I felt like a mouse before a hawk. Do I bow? What do I say? “H-hello.” I managed to stammer. With one eyebrow slightly higher than the other, she looked me up and down, and without breaking her line of sight, asked Corbal, “Why have you brought me a street urchin?” He gave a slight bow and glanced worriedly toward me. He bolstered himself with a deep breath and answered, “His name is Efrit. I believe he is the source of the power spike fifteen days ago. I came across a veiled section of the forest as evidenced by a doubled presence, within a circle of stones. I dispelled it with a quick relevancy ritual and Efrit appeared to me by a fire. He has no idea where the veil came from or who made it, but it wasn’t him. He has the gift of intrinsic ignimancy, from whatever source, and is put at ease by flame.”

At this, the Headmaster’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Not entirely impossible under the proper… circumstances, I suppose. Can you prove this, Efrit?” she asked, lingering on my name. It felt more like a challenge than a question.

“Yes, let me find something.” I hurriedly decided what was expendable. Maybe I could use the cloth covering my brand? I undid the knot under my hair, and with one hand, dropped it from eye level to fall to the floor. With each day I had become more dexterous with my firewielding, so I kept my eyes on the Headmaster, examining what I could while the cloth drifted down. Before it hit the floor, I reduced it to ash in a small flare.

The light reflected in her eyes lingered eerily longer than the flare of the cloth’s light and made me quickly grow more uncomfortable. Seeing the thirst in her eyes gave me the feeling I should remain guarded. She looked hungry, or perhaps greedy, like she had witnessed some grand wealth brought before her feet. I only noticed it for an instant; a brief flash across her face before she recomposed herself.

“Most interesting. Corbal, see that he gets a room and food,” and while looking me up and down, added, “…especially food, he’s awfully thin. And some clothing to avoid the gawking of curious students.” It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she saw how thin I’d become – the makeshift shirt I covered myself with was in tatters – yet I was startled at her offhand comment. She finished our meeting with a formal “You are dismissed.”

With that, Corbal gave a small bow, and I did as well. I felt offending her would mean serious trouble, or worse. We exited her office and the iron-wrought double doors silently swung closed, which was concerning because I never heard her walk over to close them. Corbal led me back down the stairs. To lighten the mood I casually mentioned how intense she seemed. Corbal looked back and smiled. “Yes, she is. She’s been in charge of the RASA since long before I arrived.” He thought for a moment, and continued, “Must have been nine or so decades. A long time for you humans.” I was caught off guard. In my twenty-something years, I thought I’d known everything. That is, within the small bubble of my village, which incidentally no longer existed.

“How long do gnomes live, usually? You seem pretty wizened.” I asked as we passed under a huge entryway. “In a good way,” I added.

“Let me think. To equate it to your life cycle, at my current age, I could be considered mid 30’s.” So he’s a little older than me, I thought, before he continued, “In terms of actual years, probably one-hundred-fifteen or so. It’s hard to keep track after a while.” Maybe not so close to me, after all. I wondered how many winters Corbal had seen, how many cycles of planting and harvesting, how many hot summers…

We rounded a corner and the extraneous noise of the busy halls faded with each step. These walls were less decorated, but the pillars every three yards or so much dampened the echoes. We were nearing the quieter housing section.

“Did you live with your parents before you came here?” I soon realized that may have been an awkward thing to ask. The hallway opened to a larger room which reminded me of the village’s meeting hall, but much more ornate. Smaller doors lined the walls, some open, revealing tired students readying to lie down.

“Gnomish people don’t really have much connection with their parents.” He approached a dresser in the middle of the room and retrieved some white garments. “Try these on.” I looked around sheepishly, and seeing the area was mostly unoccupied, removed my makeshift shirt. My father’s graverock was still tied around my neck. Remembering how close I was with my father, the concept of gnomish interpersonal relationships rose in my mind.

“So, do gnomes have partners?” I located the neck opening, and further prodded, “Do you have one?” I only caught a glimpse of his quickly reddening face before he turned away.

“I… don’t. Haven’t for a while.” His embarrassment was stifling. If I possessed an inkling of common sense, I might have waited until I was clothed to ask something of that nature. I found the sleeve holes and pushed my face through the top. The material was what I always thought a cloud would feel like, soft and gliding, and quickly warming to my own temperature, but not uncomfortably hot. For a moment I pressed a sleeve onto my cheek, just experiencing the softness and luxury of it.

He waited a moment and then turned back to me. His face returned to its usual pale blue. “That shirt seems to fit well.” With the previous awkwardness in mind, I looked for a room to change pants in. Without much eye contact, he opened a door and motioned for me to enter. “You might rest before wandering. I may lie down in my study as well. Travel has been rough on these old joints.” I stepped into the room; the furnishings perfectly carved and assembled, the bed made and welcoming, and a small window with soft light shining through. Corbal stepped away and closed the door, and I heard two soft footsteps, then two more. The door opened again, and he mentioned food. “I almost forgot- should you feel hungry, which I’m sure you will, just ask any student about where the dining hall is. They’ll be happy to help you.” He smiled and closed the door.

I didn’t bother putting the new pants on, instead opting to crawl into the softest and coziest bed I’d ever laid in. Buried in sheets lighter than the sky, I fell asleep almost immediately, and naturally was preyed upon once more by horrid dreams.

_____________________

I am alone in a stifling darkness, unable to move my limbs or even breathe. I am shivering. The ground is adamantine and frigid, and I begin to plead for death to the incessant sounds of whispers surrounding me. Then a steaming heat is pouring over me, undoing the cold, but instead of comfort, I feel only pain. I am cut apart. The whispers grow to screams. I am covered in my blood, watching my body fail from above; separate, dismembered, and fading.

_____________________

I awoke to a rapid knocking on my door, with a snort of broken sleep. “Come in!” I said, and before I finished, the door flung open. It was Corbal, and he looked incredibly concerned. “Efrit, I’ve been told you were screaming in your sleep again, are you okay? Did something happen?” Midsentence, he began purposefully investigating the ceiling.

I thought for a moment, and denied any strangeness. What I remembered of my nightmare was only smoke now. I relieved his worry, “Just another nightmare. However, I am starving. Is there a way to find breakfast?” It never occurred to me night had passed and it was tomorrow already. Corbal sighed, and stepped out, telling me to get dressed. I pulled my sheets off the floor where, in my thrashing, they had fallen off. It was shortly after I realized had also forgotten to put pants on.

Once dressed, we headed to where I assumed food would be. On the way, every draft spread aching coolness over my shirt, which was still coated in sweat. I held my arms around me to try to warm up. The cold had never affected me to this degree before, and I wondered why it was a problem now. Once we got to the dining hall, I made a beeline for the seat closest the fireplace.

I was expecting a feast warranting a huge gathering, but it became apparent I was overly excited. Though not empty, there were long tables against the walls with some plates scattered, each with its own type of food. I could see over them clearly, but Corbal had to stand on his toes to get a good view of the foods arranged above. Trying to be helpful, I asked him if he needed me to reach anything. He accepted my offer, asking me to snatch the mushfruit before anyone else saw it. “It- the what? This one?” I asked, pointing at a bulbous fruit with a pink and brown gradient.

“No, the one to the right- too far, it’s- yes, that’s the one.” While he pushed things aside to make room on his plate, I turned to see some roasted meat over the fire. Its skin was charred and crisped, split and dry, and for a second I thought I saw Anna’s grey eye staring back at me.

“Can I have that fruit there?” Corbal joked, pulling me out of my vision.

“What? Yeah, here.”

I decided I would also just have fruit and bread. Corbal found a table while I scanned the assortment for something edible- and I found it. That heavenly bread Corbal had enlightened me to so long ago when we met. I grabbed a small loaf and scarfed most of it as quickly as before, still standing at the table it was presented on. A nearby student was waiting for me to move, so I shoved the remainder in my mouth and looked for more elsewhere. It was still as delicious as I remembered.

Corbal returned with a plate of assorted fruits I’d never seen before, miscolored apples, some beady-looking mush, and a bright yellow crescent. “Fields’ name, what is that?” I exclaimed, pointing at the yellow curved fruit. It had brown freckles all over it.

“Are you going to judge every food you don’t know yet?” he asked with a laugh. I knew it was a joke, but I felt a little guilty about my ignorance. Not that it was my fault, I understood, which helped soften the shame. I’d have to do some learning here. Corbal picked it up and bit the top of it, creating an opening to reach in and peel down the side. It glowed slightly once exposed to the air. It made his light green eyes yellow-layered with the light. After removing that slice of exterior, Corbal drank the goop within, carefully holding it horizontally to avoid spilling it. It smelled sweet and woodsy, and faintly of berries.

He drained the fruit, then placed the empty husk back on his plate. “This fruit? I actually don’t know what it’s called.”

“Don’t you live here?” I jokingly asked. He seemed taken aback in a positive way, somehow relieved.

“Well, of course! But even the most disciplined scholar can’t know everything.”

It was nice to enjoy a real meal.