Vayal Academy

I expected clear air and sunshine, as it was before we were herded into the hall, but apparently the weather’s kicked in since then, so instead I find Mae, snow melting in her hair. She greets me with a hug (I find myself blushing again) and squees.

“You’re a Mystic? That’s so cool! Are you the only one so far?”

Her excitement makes me feel a little better, but I’m still not thrilled about being further set apart from the rest of the class.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

Mae has attached herself possessively to my arm and is dragging me in the direction of our rooms.

The clouds, still shot through with colour, now cover the sky entirely. I reach my hand out to catch one of the perfectly formed snowflakes as we move. It holds its shape for a few seconds and then melts all at once.

“Woah, the snow’s not cold?”

“It gets colder the further away we get from the centre. I guess they want the Aquatic School to be able to enjoy the snow without the pool freezing over.”

I’m still looking about in wonderment when she pulls me through the huge ornate doors and into Vayal Academy for the first time. The entry hall is immense, the ground made of glossy crystal, mosaiced into the Vayal symbol, the six-headed Hydra. The double staircase on either side of the hall leads to an ornate balcony, which itself forks off into so many additional staircases and balconies that I can’t keep track; the ceiling is so high that my mind can barely comprehend it. Good thing Mae knows the way, because I’m hopelessly overwhelmed, and couldn’t begin to recall the maps I so meticulously studied.

She skirts beneath the staircase and takes us through a series of doors until we find ourselves in a colossal dormitory tower. From the ground I can make out hundreds of small, individual balconies, disconnected. I can’t see any staircases, or any way at all to access the rooms. In the centre of the dizzyingly vertical space is a huge pillar of light, stretching all the way up to the ornate crystal ceiling, and surrounded by what appears to be giant rose petals.

“How do we get-”

Mae doesn’t even let me finish. “I was so hoping you’d ask that!”

She claps twice and one of the huge petals detaches and whizzes toward us. It halts in front of us and Mae steps delicately on, offering me a dapper hand.

“99,” she says. Her eyes glint.

I take her hand self consciously and in a moment we’re flying through the air, up and up again toward the transparent crystal ceiling. I can’t help but duck as we approach it, certain that I’m going to fly right through. Our chariot stops though, with just enough room for me to stand comfortably. We must be in the highest rooms in the tower.

The double doors open automatically for us and we walk into a large, cushiony living room with a roaring fireplace and cosy looking burgundy couches, complete with fluffy blankets and cushions. Tucked behind the couches is a large cauldron and a small set of drawers.

“This is ours?” I say, blinking stupidly.

“Well, it’s our common room. There are a few apartments attached to each one, so we’ll be sharing this space with some other girls. Let’s check out our rooms!”

Mae’s room is adorable, done up in purples with a fluffy yellow duck plush sitting on the bed. Her shelves are filled with interesting books and knicknacks, and I have to refrain myself from snooping.

Mine is- well, mine. The Academy teleports all our furniture from home, and that includes my mismatched blankets and unframed artworks pasted to the walls. Mae leaves me to settle in, but not before making me promise to come find her as soon as I’m comfortable and rested. After reviewing my schedule posted on the door (I have one evening class, Intro to Mysticism at the 17th Hour, nothing but time until then), I flop onto the bed.

For once, my thoughts still. It’s like all the fear rushes out of me, leaving me exhausted and hollow, my brain filled with cotton soaked in ale. I feel a bit better once I wriggle out of my clothes and open the window. Nothing’s as comforting for a mountain orc as fresh, cold air.

On the bed, crisp breeze rushing over me, new thoughts come unbidden to my mind. Try as I might, I can’t smother the memory of Mae bent over before me. In an instant the memory turns to fantasy: we’re still in the cramped bathroom, but she’s not puking. Since I don’t need to hold her hair back I’ve instead got two hands on her hips to keep her firm against me. I lean down and bite at her neck. She moans.

Is that really what she’d sound like?

Well, wouldn’t you like to know.

She’s my only friend here. Friend! What would she think if she could-

If she could, what? Read your mind with her Restoration magic? It’s nice and private here. Your sanctum. You can imagine dark purple hair between your thighs.

I cross my legs and shiver. Everything’s floating so far away. Mae hikes up my skirt and crawls beneath. Fantasy and reality align when I slip a finger beneath my plain black underwear and circle, tease.

“Woaw,” I hear from the corner, and immediately snap my head around, blushing and yanking my hand back out.

“Mae?” I ask, but then see her — a blonde elf, possibly the one from the Hall. Her face is elegant, proper, regal. Amber eyes stare right at me, confused. She glances behind her, then back, and points to herself, finger resting on the blue tie running down her chest.

“You can hear me?”

The blanket comes up to cover me. “What are you doing here?”

The elf scrunches her face up and frowns. “You can see me?”

“Yes! What are you doing in my room?”

With both hands prim and proper behind her back, chest stuck out, she crosses the room and sits on the bed — I shuffle back against the wall but can’t get any further from her unless I go out the window. “Don’t you remember?” she says.

I think back, to when I saw her out in the common room, to when I whispered “come to my room later, Nym.”

“I invited you? But why? I wouldn’t-”

“Well I thought it was because you liked me. You’re almost naked, after all.”

“No, I wouldn’t-”

“I mean weren’t you like, just waiting for me?”

And I was, strangely enough. Not a moment ago I had my hand between my thighs, dreaming of her, picturing her warm lips against my cool neck, imagining the feel of her silky elven skin as I explored every naked inch of her.

Why would I do that? I’d barely seen her. It wasn’t like with Mae, who’s been with me since the train. If I was to be bold like that (I would never) then I wouldn’t have invited Nymeria Whispwood (how do I know her name?), I’d have invited Mae Maiven.

Reason shatters through the false memories and I frown. “You shouldn’t do that.”

She nods, leans forward, cups my cheek before I can pull away. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you,” she pushes her chest again, looks up at me, “you just let me know, okay?”

“Just some privacy.” For some reason it’s hard to send her away. Her face, I guess — it’s not the kind of face you say no to.

I see her open the door and step out, but when it’s closed I also see her standing just beside it, still inside the room, staring at me as if waiting for me to resume. I tilt my head and she flushes. “Gosh, you’re good.” And with that she leaves for real.

A less ridiculous woman than I would be shocked into purity, at least for a while, but it’s the exact opposite. Now the thoughts of Mae reassert themselves, tangled in the wisps of false memory. Mae and Nym and me, impossibly squeezed into the bathroom that was already too small for just two of us. Nym kisses along my stone chin while Mae works magic with her tongue.

Things shift — Mae bent over, and somehow Nym next to her, their hips locked together. “Me first,” Nym begs, “you’re an Orc — you know what to do with an elf.”

“No,” Mae pleads, “you’re my friend. Me first.”

All the rooms have a small marble basin for freshening up, and I race over to splash cold water on my face. Cup and splash and cup and splash until my mind returns to its static hum. Why am I like this? Why can’t I keep myself together? Mae and I are assigned the same dorm — if I can’t be normal around her it’s going to be a long five years.

You never know. Maybe she’s in there right now. Maybe she’s down to her underwear thinking about you. Could go ask.

Gods. I’m ridiculous. The longer I sit in here like this the more she’ll worry about me. But how can I go out like this? But how can I, uhm, sort myself out after that? She’s a First Year Illusionist. Could a Fifth Year be watching? No. Surely not. I’m just being paranoid — but still, I can’t settle back down.