Somebody Stop Them. Chapter 50: House Silverfox

Balancing two steaming lattes in fanciful Silverfox mugs carefully, I navigated the crowded Silverfox balcony, the scent of roasted beast croissants,coffee and spiced mana-wine thick in the air.

Silver and argent banners with stylized winged foxes rippled overhead, and chattering Mystagogues in matching robes milled around, already forming cliques and comparing enchanted stationery and exchanging Omnigram numbers. My eyes scanned the lower balconies as I made my way back to Cinder’s table, taking in the sights below.

Then I saw her.

On the lowest balcony, amidst the red and black banners of House Gorefield, sat a figure that made my heart stutter. She was tall and wide like a Knight, even sitting down, with the unmistakable feline grace of a dragon-cat. Her scales and hair were a deep, shimmering blue, like twilight over a glacier, and her tail, tipped with black spikes, flicked rhythmically as she leaned over a large sketchbook. Gorefield robes draped loosely over a black leather dress that shimmered with tiny, sparkling blue gems.

My breath caught. Green eyes, framed by dark lashes, lifted from the page, and for a fleeting moment, they locked with mine. A jolt, sharp and electric, ran through me. Not just recognition, but a visceral pull, like a soul-chord vibrating in resonance.

I inhaled deep, searching across the Astral and myself with Scrutiosmia.

Images flashed unbidden behind my eyes: a girl in a wheelchair, her spirit fierce even in vulnerability. The terrifying, oppressive, crushing darkness of the Deep. Whispers of Echoes, centipede-people that I hunted and devoured. Arx. The crystalline citadel Mage Tower. Katsburg.

“Katherine…” The name escaped my lips, a soft, disbelieving whisper lost in the general din of the hall.

Her gaze, sharp and intelligent, flickered, held mine for another beat, then just as quickly, she looked away, her attention returning to the sketchbook in her lap.

Dazed, I continued walking, the image of her face burned into my mind. Katherine. She was here, in another house. It made sense that she ended up in Gorefield. She desired darkness like nobody else due to her Stollwurm nature.

Reaching Cinder’s table, I carefully placed the latte down in front of her, the gold dragonflakes shimmering on the creamy foam.

“Here you go, oh fearsome dragon-bae,” I said.

Cinder took a long, appreciative sniff of the coffee, then a slow, luxurious sip, her blue eyes half-closed in contentment. “Took you long enough, kobold. What were you doing, milking the dragons yourself? Wait, did you buy yourself a latte too?”

“Is that not allowed?” I asked, sipping on my latte. “Do you want your handy kobold to dry out and perish from lack of coffee?”

Cinder made a “mrrrr” bothered noise, burying her face in the large mug.

Magdaline Satoshi was the next of our group to be called. She moved with her usual silent glide to the dais, knelt, and struck the Slayer Sword into the Leviathan tile. Her grey robes flared, the colors swirling, and then settled into the same cool silver and deep argent of House Silverfox when lighting struck her.

She came up to our balcony and sat on my left side, staring at me with blood-red eyes.

“I’m starting to remember you,” she said.

“Good things, I hope,” I smiled back at her.

She nodded, blushing ever so slightly. I wondered if she just recalled our prison dance after she nearly murdered me.

Dean Otter’s voice boomed again, announcing the next Mystagogue I knew. “Vespera Simmi!”

I looked down.

Vee, with a theatrical flourish of her black and white wings, strode towards the dais, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She knelt before the Saxtant Knight, grasped the Slayer Sword with practiced ease, and struck it down. Her grey robes erupted in a dazzling display of light, colors swirling and shifting with chaotic energy, a miniature storm mirroring the one overhead. And then, as if mirroring Cinder and myself, a blinding flash of lightning struck her from above, and her robes settled into that of House Silverfox.

Another lightning bolt and another clear Lazarus bracelet came into existence.

Cheers erupted from our group on the Silverfox balcony. Vee, grinning triumphantly, relinquished the sword and bounded off the dais, taking off using her wings, flapping to the balcony and heading straight for our table.

She landed beside us and then pulled up a chair, squeezing in between Cinder and me, offered and accepted an electric high-five from Cinder and Magdaline, her grin widening. “Silverfox! We did it, babes! Dream Team, assemble!”

“About time,” Cinder grunted, taking another sip of her latte. “Though I was half expecting you to go Pyroclast, with all that ‘world domination’ talk.”

“Pff,” Vee scoffed. “Silverfox is where the real powah’s at! Cunning, strategy, and… well, us.” She winked at Cinder, then turned her bright gaze on me, her smile turning subtly inquisitive. “The fook was that, Lexxy?”

“Was what?” I asked.

“Six minutes and eighteen seconds.”

“What?” I blinked, confused.

“You were talking to the sword waaaaaaaaay longer than anyone else,” Vee explained, her head tilting slightly. “I was beginning to think that it would cast you out from Skyfall for your lack of magic or something.” She teased.

“Har har,” I rolled my eyes at her.

“I saw your lips moving down there. What did she tell you?”

Cinder paused mid-sip, her blue eyes narrowing, suddenly interested. “Yeah, kobold. Spill. What, you couldn’t choose a house or something?”

I hesitated, the echo of Ein Sof’s voice still resonating in my soul. How could I even begin to explain the cosmic conversation, the whispers of entropy, the System Wizards, the breaking of Absolute Syntropic Rules? It sounded insane, even to my own dimensionally skewed ears.

“I didn’t chat with the sword,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I spoke to... something else.”

Vee’s silver-gold eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Something else like what?”

I took a deep breath. “The Wormwood Star Leviathan. Ein Sof. Infinity.”

Cinder choked on her latte, sputtering and coughing, dragonflakes flying across the table. Vee’s wings stilled, her usual bubbly energy momentarily suspended in stunned silence. Mags didn’t say anything, simply sniffing the air, busy preoccupied with reconstructing her own lost memories with Scrutimancy.

“The… what now?” Cinder managed to wheeze out, wiping dragonflake-dusted foam from her chin. “The Wormwood Star Leviathan? You spoke to… the Leviathan?” Her voice was a mix of disbelief and a strange, unsettling awe. “Come on, don’t screw around like that!”

“We’re supposed to metaphorically slay the evil one, not speak to her,” Vespera clicked.

“I didn’t get that memo,” I shrugged.

“You didn’t get the…” Cinder growled. “How… what…”

“You, me, bar, now,” Vespera grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me to the bar.
Then she purchased a bottle of Akazian Berry Mana Wine from the bartender and chugged the entire thing.

“What’d the sword tell you?” I asked her as her body relaxed.

“Generic word-stuffs,” Vee said, pantomiming her conversation. “Wat house you wan’. I want Silverfox plz’. The Pact is thus struck.”

Then she stared at me. “Why are our bracelets transparent?”

“Because we are bound by Dagaz,” I said. “Because of a ritual we did on Arx.”

“Dang, I’m missing a lotta valuable info,” Vespera brushed her feathery mane back with magisteel-clad talons.

“Maybe I can transfer my memories to you?” I asked.

“Ye, that’d be swell. I’ll set up a thing,” she nodded.

“A thing?”

“In our dreams,” she replied.

She purchased two more wine bottles and dragged me back to Cinder and Mags. We watched the ceremony for a while until another familiar name boomed from the lips of Dean Otter.

“Iogann Wanderer!”

A figure with fluffy, grey wings and a distinctly moth-like appearance shuffled forward. His robes hid his frame, and large antennae twitched from beneath a wide-rimmed green hat that shadowed his face. He moved with a hesitant gait, almost as if he was afraid of being noticed. He knelt before the Saxtant Knight, grasped the sword, and struck down. His robes flared, colors swirling, and then… silver and argent. House Silverfox.

Iogann looked genuinely startled, as if he hadn’t expected to be sorted at all, let alone into a house like Silverfox. He accepted his scroll and Lazarus bracelet with a trembling hand, then wandered off the dais, looking utterly lost and overwhelmed by the bustling hall. In another minute, he stood at the edge of the Silverfox balcony, glancing around with wide, dark eyes.

Magdaline stood up and glided over to Iogann, and then with a gentle hand on his arm, steered him towards our table. Iogann offered no resistance, allowing himself to be led like a lost moth drawn to a flickering lantern.

“This is Io,” Magdaline announced, pushing a chair towards the mothman.

“Um. Do we know each other, Miss shark?” Io looked up at Mags.

“We started dating before the big Celestorm overwrote everything,” Magdaline rumbled.

“We… did?” Io asked.

“Yes,” Mags nodded. “I can smell it. I'd like to resume our relationship. Do you still have a flying van?

"Yes. I didn't take the train. It's parked in one of the landing lots."

"Good. I like it. Ask me out on a date when you get used to me, and take me somewhere nice, yeah?"

Io nodded and then sat down next to me, seemingly accepting his unexpected shark GF.

“Welcome to the den, Iogann!” Vespera chirped, her enthusiasm infectious. “Don’t be shy! We’re all cool foxes here!”

Magdaline inhaled deeply, her red eyes flicking over our group. “Smells like… almost everyone,” she stated, her voice low. “Just one missing.”

“Katherine,” I said. “She’s in another house.”

“Gorefield,” Magdalene inhaled deep and looked down at the lowest balcony where the green and black banners hung. “Gorefield is acceptable. We will reconnect with her later,” she said, as if that settled everything.

Despite the mild pang of disappointment at Katherine being in a different house, a warmth spread through me. We were together. Cinder, Vee, Mags, and now Iogann. My friends. My pack. My… Clan. Family. People who actually cared about me and didn't just call me names and smack me like Ember did.

We settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying the steaks and croissants courtesy of the attentive Kitsune waiters. The Silverfox balcony buzzed with excited chatter, a mix of nervous energy and burgeoning camaraderie.

Cinder, having finished her latte and polished off a beast croissant with a satisfied smile. She dug into her extradimensional case and produced her elegant, black and stylized rainbow-wings style guitar.

“Yass!” Vee clapped. “A Cindaaa-rrr-enade!”

“Yo, what’s your specialty, little moth?” Cinder asked Iogann.

“Opening gates to doomed worlds and aquiring snacks,” Io answered. He dug into his leather back, hand sinking deep and produced pocky sticks for everyone. “Here.”

“M’kay, I gotchu,” Cinder unwrapped a ‘Nonpareil Punch’ pocky package and chewed on a chocolate stick for about a minute, eyes closed.

Then her eyes shot open. Her hands spun the guitar and then she stuck the strings.

"In Silverfox lair, enwrapped by cloud dance,
Where tricksters weave their dark romance.
A band of misfits, wild and free,
Bound by fate and mystery."

Her gaze flickering over Vespera.

“Vee, the Thunderbird, bright and bold,
With sparks of chaos, stories told.
She dances fast, she flies so high,
A storm of feathers ‘cross the sky.”

Vespera swayed left and right with the tune, black wings with white tips fluttering, extra-pleased with being included in the song. Cinder’s eyes shifted to Magdaline.

“Magdaline, the Scrut, with senses keen,
Smelling truths that lie between.
In depths of past, her mind does delve,
Answers only she can shelve.”

Magdaline gave a small appreciative nod. Cinder’s gaze moved to Iogann, who shifted slightly under her attention.

“Io, the Moth, with wings so frail,
Opening doors beyond the veil.
To doomed worlds, he finds the way,
And brings back snacks to light the day.”

Cinder puffed up and grinned wide as she began singing about herself.

“And I, the dragon-bard so grand,
A Quetzalcoatl in silver-rainbow light.
With Chaincharm songs, I weave my spell,
To bind us together swell."

Rainbows exploded from her wings across our entire balcony section, drawing curious eyes to our group.

Then, Cinder’s sky-blue eyes locked onto mine, a definite smirk playing on her lips. She paused, her voice softening slightly, a hint of something deeper, almost vulnerable, creeping in.

“But then there’s you, green eyes so deep,
Secrets that your soul does keep.
I feel a pull, a phantom trace,
A smile I don’t recall, in time and space.

Who are you, kobold, strange and sly?
Why does my heart remember, why?
A flicker of a forgotten name,
Whispers lost in memory’s flame.”

Then Cinder turned to the other silver-robed foxes.

“In Silver Tower, we’ll make our stand,
A den of foxes, hand in hand.
Through cunning plots and whispered schemes,
We’ll chase our wild, Mystagogue dreams.”

She strummed a final flourish, the sound echoing and fading into the excited chatter of the Silverfox balcony. Applause erupted from the nearby tables, and even a few whistles and cheers.

Vespera clapped the loudest, whistling through her beak-teeth. “Bravo, Ci! Whoo-hoo! That was… surprisingly… not gloomy! Someone’s finally lightening up!”

Magdaline nodded. “Good dopamine release for House cohesion.”

Iogann offered a small, hesitant smile. “That was… very nice,” he said softly. “Thank you for including me in your song."

“Excellent job, Ci!” I clapped, my heartbeat rushing into the stratosphere from the mind-melting 'love-me' rainbows she was casting around herself.

Cinder slipped her guitar back into its extradimensional case with a smug look. “Of course, it was! I wrote it.”

. . .

The Entrance Ceremony concluded with a dazzling display of magic fireworks. Colorful sparks rained down from the permanent Celestorm overhead, illuminating the Central Hall in a kaleidoscope of light. Dean Otter made a final, sweeping gesture, congratulating the new first-years and officially welcoming them to Skyfall.

As the hall began to empty, we made our way towards the Silverfox balcony stairwell. Before we left the balcony, I nudged Io gently. “Hey, Io, you wouldn’t happen to have Katherine’s Omnigram details, would you?”

“Hrm?” Io turned to me. “My sister? Why?”

“Me and her used to be good friends,” I said.

“Really?” Io blinked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Before the Celestorm overwrote reality, she taught me how to dive into the deep. I’d like to reconnect with her.”

“Aight,” Io nodded, pulling out his phone. “Add me. I’ll pm you her Omnigram ID.”

Digging into my worn rucksack, I pulled out my old, battered phone with a very scratched up screen, a far cry from the sleek magitek devices everyone else seemed to possess. Yulia was gone, of course, wiped clean by the dimensional shift. I had never stolen her this time around, existing under the boot of Ember Stratos. I exchanged phone taps with Cinder, Vespera, Magdaline, and Io, adding their Omnigram handles to my otherwise empty contact list.

The Silverfox balcony led to a wide stairwell where many Mystagogues already stood. A massive statue blocked the doorway into the tower–a magnificent marble fox with vast, feathered wings, its argent fur shimmering in the soft light of the stairwell. As we approached, the statue became animated, its head turned, glowing eyes, sharp and intelligent, focusing on us.

“I am Argentiss Silverfox, the Cantigeist of your new domain,” the statue spoke in a cheeky, female voice.

A pause hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Then Argentiss continued, a sly grin spreading across her fox muzzle. “All of you have exactly seven hours and seven minutes to impress me.”

A collective murmur rippled through the group of new Silverfox students who had gathered behind us, drawn by the Cantigeist’s voice.

“Impress you how?” a tall, Dover Demon Omnid stepped forward, his voice laced with imperious curiosity.

“Trick, bamboozle, rob or deceive another party in Skyfall or in Giant’s Causeway town,” The winged fox paused again, letting her words sink in. “Fail to do so, and you will be banished from my House, relegated to those less clever creatures far below me.”

A flurry of whispers broke out amongst the students. ‘Bamboozle someone?’, ‘Seven hours?’, ‘Banished?’. The pressure was suddenly on.

The statue stepped aside, its massive form shifting and revealing a doorway behind it. “Below the tower lies the Foxglen Den Artifactorium,” Argentiss announced, gesturing with a paw towards the newly revealed passage. “Your Common Room and dormitories are above. Make good use of my resources within the allotted time, and you shall be rewarded with a soft, warm bed. Fail my test and your robes will turn gray once again and you will have to beg the Sword to re-sort you.” With a sharp clap of large fox paws, a pulse of silver magic washed over each of us, a tingling sensation that seemed to settle deep within my bones.

Suddenly, a notification flashed atop of everyone’s Lazarus bracelet [-7:07:00 to Impress your House Cantigeist to gain access to the dorms.]

Then the countdown shifted to [-7:06:59]

The older students rushed into the Artifactorium.

I laughed, cutting through the nervous whispers of other first year students. “Seven hours? Pfff. Right then.” I turned to other foxes on the stairwell. “Whoever wishes to gain access to the dorms asap, please follow our group!”

The tall, gray Omnid from before raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And why exactly should we follow you?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

I shrugged, offering a disarming smile. “If you have a brilliant idea on how to meet our Fox-god’s expectations on your own, by all means, be my guest. But anyone wanting to get to a warm bed right now instead of flapping around aimlessly should probably stick with us.”

To my surprise, a good number of students, both Omnids and their mixed-blood kobold companions, began to gather around us. It was mostly people who had clapped hard to Cinder’s song. About a dozen students in total ended up forming a loose group around us.

“Alright,” I said, addressing the group. “Into the Artifactorium!”

We went down the stairwell.

“Scrolls, please.” I held out my hand as I stopped at an empty work table.

“Why would we give you our House scrolls?” A black-winged Lamashtu beside me asked.

I sniffed her, pulling at the Astral to determine who she was.

“Ah, Lilith Moongriss,” I smiled.

“Huh? Do we… know each other?” She blinked, tilting her dark wolf-head down at me.

“We did,” I nodded. “Before the Celestorm. I’m Alexander Stratos. A pleasure to meet you, again, Miss Moongriss. Let's reconnect on Omnigram.”

Lilith and I shook hands and exchanged phone taps.

“You look like a poor kobold,” Lilith commented at my shoddy phone.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” I grinned at her. “Would a truly fabulous fox throw about their wealth like a dragon, or would he pretend to be a little poor mouse?”

“Hrm,” Lilith pursed her lips. “Fine, I’ll bite.”

I picked up a small, silver, sound-blocking artifact from a nearby alcove–a simple, elegant disc of polished metal with a concealment rune. I activated it, placing it in the center of our small gathering. A faint hum emanated from it, creating a zone of privacy surrounding our table.

“Right then,” I explained, lowering my voice, “we’re going to scramble our names around to bamboozle the Saxtant Dormitory Keeper Knight, modify our dormitory contracts. A simple, elegant solution.”

“You want to trick the Resident Knight?” Io asked.

“Yep,” I nodded, unrolling a few scrolls on the table. “I don’t want to be placed in a random ass room specified by this scroll. I’d like to room with my dragons.” I waved a hand at Cinder and Vespera.

“This is a magical scroll contract,” Lilith pointed out.

“And this is a magical Artificery with many tools specializing in forgery,” I waved my hand at the tools all around us. “It should be no problem for us to figure out how to mess up the scrolls.”

“Aren’t these connected to the Academy’s wards?” Vespera asked.

“Are they?” I asked.

“They should be,” she picked up a scroll and sent electric current through it. “Ah. They aren’t connected to anything yet, but there is a connection there waiting to be made. I guess the Keeper Knight upstairs does the final binding.”

“Bingo,” I nodded. “The Knight registers the scroll to a room and binds its owner for a year to a specific bed. The Knight is the weakest link, our target to socially hack to impress our House Cantigeist. If we all trade our scrolls around and mod our names from the beginning, he’ll never know the truth. Sounds good?”

Eager nods all around.

“Now,” I said. “Let's make a list. Who wants to room with whom? Also, let’s trade Omnigrams for future shenanigans!”

. . .

The silver anti-scrying disc hummed softly, creating a pocket of relative quiet amidst the clanging and whirring of the Foxglen Den Artifactorium. Scrolls rustled as we laid them out on the polished metal table. A flurry of quick whispers and murmurs ensued as we sorted ourselves into desired roommate pairings.

Vespera had already taken charge of the scrolls, her magisteel talons tapping across the parchment. “Mags can you smell any magical defenses on these things?”

Magdaline leaned closer, her red eyes narrowing as she sniffed at a scroll. “Faint imprint. Mostly just… registration runes. Nothing too complex. Easily bypassed.”

“Excellent,” Vee grinned, sparks dancing at her fingertips. “Let’s get to work!” She gestured towards the array of artificer tools lining the walls–delicate etching needles, rune-scribing quills, vials of shimmering inks, scrubbing acids and projectors displaying arcane diagrams.

Magdaline and Vee dove into the task with focused intensity. Vee rapidly splashed ink-melting acids and manipulated the etching needles to delicately alter the names on the scrolls, modding the names.

Lilith, who had no friends at Skyfall, and was assigned to the girls dorm decided to join our group to make us into the desired six roommates configuration. She traded her scroll with that of Yara-ma-yha-who Tate.

I recalled that I had transferred Lilith and Tate from the prison island to Skyfall, paying for their education from the corporate account of Thunder and Rainbow. It seemed that the dimensional shear had kept them registered here.

Lilith and Tate, while less magically inclined in artificery, provided valuable organizational skills, keeping track of which names were swapped with whom, and ensuring that no scroll went unaccounted for and that new roommate configurations were acceptable for everyone involved.

As we worked, a large Depictomancy painting of a silver fox, hanging on the far wall of the Artifactorium watched us.

“Guys,” Tate murmured, glancing at the painting. “I think we’re being observed.”

“Let her watch,” I waved at the portrait. “We’re being cunning, aren’t we? Pretty sure that’s what she wants us to do.”

Vespera, without looking up from her meticulous scroll work, chuckled. “Yeah, cheeky Geist wants us to mess with the school, so mess we shall! Go foxes, go!”

The fox in the painting remained silent, its silver gaze fixed on our bustling group.

After what felt like a whirlwind of focused activity, the scrolls were finished. Names were swapped, underlying runes were re-scribed, and illusions were carefully woven to mask the alterations. We checked and double-checked our work, ensuring that everything was as seamless as possible.

“Right then,” I announced, gathering the modified scrolls. “Roommate groups, assemble!”

We sorted ourselves out. Our newly sorted roommate group consisted of: Cinder, Vee, Lilith, Mags, Io and myself.

“Okay, operation ‘Foxglen Den Infiltration’ is a go,” Vespera declared, clapping her magisteel talons together.

“Now onto stage two,” I nodded. “Disguises!”

“Easy,” Cinder snapped her fingers and her face and body rearranged itself into that of a bulkier, slightly shorter version of herself. “Good?” She asked in a deep, male voice.

“That will bamboozle the Knight, but it won’t trick the Saxtant scanner runes on the boy's dormitory entrance,” Mags inhaled.

“Ugh,” the male Cinder crossed her arms. “So how are we getting into the male dorm?”

“I can incept a male memetic demon into your head,” Lilith offered.

“What kind?” I asked.

“A dreaming one,” Lilith said. “Basically, he’ll wake up whenever there’s an ID scanner pointed at you and blot out the forefront of your mind and soul for just a second.”

“Not sure if I want a sus memetic in my head,” Cinder huffed.

“I’m a professional memetic designer,” Lilith said. “Trust me, I’ve fooled all sorts of scanners with my demon-boys.”

Cinder looked at the others for support.

“I trust Lilith,” I said. “She’s worked for our Clan as a Sixie here and on Arx before the dimensional shift. Besides, Vee can boot a memetic out if it misbehaves? Right, Vee?”

“Ye,” Vespera nodded. “I’m pretty good at zapping things outta heads using Dreamancy. Aight, let's do it! Memetic me up, Lil!"

. . .

Sir Kaelan of the Order of Saxtant Knights yawned.

His post, an austere office carved into the Silver Tower’s dormitory level, was functional but far from inspiring. A simple hexamesh desk, a rune-etched wall panel with a few colorful Kitlix that served as his interface to the Academy’s ward system, and a sturdy magisteel chair were his companions for this administrative ritual.

The Celestorm shift had thrown everything into disarray, mucking up the usually smooth House Sorting. The Astralnet was still buzzing, the Nuntix Kitlix on his desk speaking with voices of various Scrutimancers explaining the various mind-boggling changes. Kaelan wasn't looking forward to dealing with the bullshit produced by the worldwide Celestorm. The sheer volume of future paperwork that would be generated by the dimensional hiccup was threatening to bury the Saxtant Order for months.

At least the young Mystagogues seemed mostly oblivious to the wider cosmic tremors, their concerns focused on the far more immediate anxieties of dorm assignments and impressing their House Cantigeist. He envied their naivety, just a little.

“Good evening, Sir Knight,” a Kitsune Novitiate approached his desk. “We are here to submit our House Dormitory Scrolls.”

"Already? Hrm. Aren't you quick. Very well. Names?” Kaelan prompted. He kept his tone neutral, professional. He was a Knight of the Order, not a friendly innkeeper.

“I am Lissander Fox,” the green-eyed, ginger Kitsune boy stated, gesturing to himself with a flourish. “And these are my… lovely roommates.” He rattled off a string of names–Jogab Proverra, Mag Satosh, Lil Moongrr, Cin Novik, and Ves Simm.

Kaelan nodded at the boys, his gloved hand outstretched.

“Scrolls, please, Novitiate Fox.”

Novitiate Fox gathered the scrolls from his companions and presented them to the Knight.

Kaelan took them, his magisteel gauntlets clicking softly against the parchment. He scanned them quickly. Ah, the novitiates must have messed with their names ever so slightly. That was their trick to get into the dorm. He let it slide, mildly amused with the Mr Fox's plot and far too on the nose last name.

He turned to the rune-etched wall panel beside him, the interface glowing softly with arcane symbols. With a few swift gestures, he injected the scrolls into the designated slot. The wall panel hummed, absorbing the magical contracts, the runes flickering and rearranging themselves as the system processed the data. “Please stand by.”

The Infix Kitlix flashed within the alcove, then displayed the room number and names. ‘Room 818, Foxglen Den West Wing.’ Six names, one room.

There was something slightly iffy about the appearance of the students too, but the Knight let it slide. Some trickery was permitted and expected, after all, this was the house of the fox. Nobody expected first years to wield high-level magic.

Kaelan retrieved the hexagonal tokens produced by the wall-inhabiting Burnix Kitlix, now magically linked to the assigned, and handed them back to Lissander Fox.

“Room 818, West Wing,” he announced. “Your room ID tokens. Don’t lose em, or you won’t get into your dorm. Clip them to your Lazarus bracelets. Proceed to the Foxglen Den Common Room for your orientation tomorrow at Eight AM from your House Student Reps. Feel free to enjoy your room and explore public areas of Skyfall for the rest of the day. Do you have any questions?”

Novitiate Fox shook his head. “No, Sir Knight. Thank you for your time.” He accepted the tokens, and gestured for his companions to follow. They moved away from the alcove, a quiet, obedient group, disappearing into the corridors of the Silver Tower.

. . .

We passed the 'boys-only' dormitory gate barrier without any issues, Lilith's memetics doing their jobs well, filling a crystalline elevator that took us to level eight.

A wall-sized painting featuring the swaying yellow-orange field with the view of Arx landscape rising up into an endless, continent filled sky greeted us in the corridor next to room 818.

A painted, winged silver-white fox bounded into view, the hay parting in its wake.

“A masterful job, Novitiates!” The Depictomancy avatar of Argentiss jumped and twirled through the air landing onto all fours with a wag of silver-white tail. “Twenty two minutes and sixty five seconds. A new record for a group of firsties, considering how many of you have successfully tricked the ward and the Tower’s Saxtant Keeper. Keep it up and you’ll have yourselves cushy jobs at the Omnid Magisterium as Interdimensional Infiltrators after your graduation!”

The fox clapped her paws and the countdown on our bracelets vanished with a flash.

"That sounds like a fun job," Lilith commented.

"Tis, tis," the fox nodded. "My house aims to produce the best spies and diplomats."

I smiled back at the painting. “Thanks, Argentiss. Say, what exactly… is a Cantigeist, in House terms?”

The painted fox tilted her head. “A Cantigeist,” she repeated, “is the… animated spirit of the House. A guardian, a guide, a… wellspring of House essence, if you will. For example, I’m the embodiment of cunning, strategy and wisdom within these walls. I observe, I advise, and occasionally, I test the mettle of my foxes.”

“Cuuute. So, you’re like… a sentient House mascot?” Vespera interjected. “Am I allowed to make a plushy of you, you adorable creature?"

Argentiss chuckled, a dry, rustling sound like autumn leaves. “Simplifying things rather drastically, but not entirely inaccurate. I am more than a mascot, of course. I am woven into the very fabric of Silver Tower, a repository of House lore, a mentor, and yes… a rather demanding taskmaster.” The painted fox’s eyes flashed to Vee. "You can produce plushies of me in the Artifactorium below if you so desire, I do not mind."

"Eeeee," Vespera squeed. "Second question - how much can we mod our rooms?"

"As much as you desire," the fox purred. "As long as you are not caught by the end of the year. Highly responsive Hexamesh patterns are woven into everything for those who are talented in dimensional magic."

"Heckin yass," Vespera clapped.

“Were you born or designed?” I asked.

“Designed,” Argentiss chased her tail through the gold hay. “Woven into existence a clever Thunderbird millennia ago from a variety of clever, wise and devious spirits found within the Shard of the Wormwood Star hosted beneath this tower.”

Then she stopped spinning and sniffed me.

“But then again, in a way, I suppose there was no me centuries ago,” the painted fox laughed. “And Skyfall wasn’t standing amidst these mountains yesterday. And so perhaps, I was born from dreams of desires of all those who wished me into existence when Archangel Zadkiel tore through reality with her wings... courtesy of a very dangerous, clever, little fox."

With a final, sly wink, Argentiss’s painted avatar leapt backwards into the hay and was gone, leaving only a warm view of the Arx landscape behind.

Vespera tapped her token on the hexagram next to the entrance and pushed the door open, and we stepped inside.

The room was… impressive, in a stark, elegant way. Silver wallpaper, subtly textured with a faint fox and star pattern, lined the walls, reflecting the soft light filtering through the tall, arched gothic stained glass windows. Three sets of bunk beds, crafted from white stone and inlaid with silver filigree, were seamlessly integrated into gothic alcoves within the walls, creating a sense of both privacy and spaciousness.

Tall windows dominated one entire wall, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of the North Ocean stretching out to the horizon, waves crashing against the rugged coastline far below. On the left, the snow-capped peaks of the Eindbane Mountains loomed, their icy blue glaciers glinting in the diffused light filtering through the weary storm clouds.

“Ooooooh,” Vespera breathed, her wings twitching with delight. “View with a room! I call middle top bunk!” She immediately darted towards the mentioned bunkbed and flew up towards it, wings fluttering.

Cinder grunted, but didn’t object, her wings unfolding slightly as she surveyed the room with a more critical eye. “Not bad. Not as opulent or as warm as Pyroclast hoard rooms, but… functional. And certainly better than a trash panda sewer. I’ll take this bottom bunk. Kobold, you’re above me.”

She walked to the bunks left of Vespera and sat down, pulling out her guitar.

Magdaline entered into the room after us. “Hrm. Decent ambient mana density...” She trailed off, her gaze lingering on the windows, as if drawn to the vast expanse of the ocean view.

Io shuffled into the room and took one of the bottom bunks. Magdaline threw her suitcase into the bunk above his, making the moth twitch below.

Lilith nodded in approval, closing the door behind her. “Clean energy signature. No lingering psychic echoes. Good barrier shielding against Astral intrusions. Not bad for a dorm room!” She then marched to the empty bottom bunk under Vespera and collapsed onto it, stretching.

Cinder let go of her Holofractal projection the figures of the Omnid trio suddenly became curvier and taller, their features once again becoming very feminine.

I climbed up onto the bunk assigned to me by my Quetzi-dragon.

Cinder started strumming her guitar, humming to herself. The melody carried across our room. I opened the stained glass window, making the silver curtains flap in the ocean-breeze.

The privacy panel covered in gothic patterns and dancing foxes on my right side suddenly ignited at the edges and then fell open. Vespera climbed into my bunk space, feathers fluttering as she squeezed through the hole.

“Did you just torch-weld through a magisteel wall?” I blinked.

“Convenient kobold-access hatch,” she grinned and wrapped me in her dark wings. Her hand right found my right. "It's strange..." she breathed out, leaning her beak onto my shoulder.

"Yeah?" I asked.

“This… feeling,” she murmured. “It’s like… I know you. But I don’t. Not really. Or do I?”

“Dimensional skewering,” I shrugged.

Vee shifted slightly, her beak nudging my shoulder gently. “It’s like… a phantom limb. Like something’s missing, a piece of me that should be there, connected to you.” Her eyes met mine with a melancholic haze.

“Like a soul-echo?” I guessed. "A bit of your soul is in me, but it's not fully connected."

“Yeah,” she breathed, her grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly. “My Electofractal senses… they’re buzzing like crazy when I’m near you. Like a circuit completing. Like… coming home to a place I’ve never been before.” She nuzzled my cheek, a gesture that felt both intensely intimate and strangely innocent. "How close were we before the whole... Celestorm thing?"

"Very," I said.

The sound of Cinder’s guitar drifted up at us.

"So we were a thing?"

"Yes. Both you and Ci."

"Why?"

"You tell me," I smiled.

"That's not fair! I don't remember shit!" She elbowed me.

"What, you're not tantalized by our 'ship mystery?" I messed up her feathery mane with my right hand.

Vespera’s breath ghosted warm against my ear, carrying the faint scent of ozone. “Tantalized? Hrm hrm. Maybe a little,” she admitted.

"Just a little?"

“Okay. More like… intensely curious. Going crazy over here with Dreamancy wanderlust. But I don't want to go to sleep yet. I want to... feel more of whatever this is. I see us as a puzzle box with half the pieces missing, but the picture on the lid sings of a promise of something... fantastic. Now stop teasing me and tell me about our 'ship!"

"I'll tell you what I can recall, in exchange for a kiss," I whispered to her feather-wrapped ear.

"Oh you devious creature." She leaned in closer, the side of her beak brushing lightly against my cheek, slowly trailing closer to my lips and then digging in, sparks dancing across my entire face. “There!" She breathed out with a light growl-purr. "Now. Tell me… about us. About ‘home’. About who I was before. Pleeeeeeease?"

And so, I began to tell her.

About the magic-less world of villains and heroes, about Alexa and Martin and Dora's Terraforge GLM that infested Martin's body. About North Acadia, Omnithornia, Alexander Glock's revenge and Vee and Cinder. About Possy and our adventures in Arx. About Undertown and Katsburg. About the SimmiTech compound and the Archangel. About the bond that had stretched across dimensions and somehow, miraculously, re-knitted itself here, in this new, bewildering, more magic-infused, twisted version of reality. About the Wormwood Star Leviathan's or Ein Sof's revelations at House-choosing dias.

As I spoke, the guitar music from below wove around my words, creating a tapestry of lost memories and fragile hope, a promise of a future that might, just might, be as bright and and wonderful as the past we were slowly, painstakingly, trying to put back together.