Somebody Stop Them. Chapter 49: The Voice of Entropy

“Dad?” Magdaline asked. “How exactly does the worldwide dimensional shift happen?”

“Hrm,” the Scrutimancer shark cleared his throat. “Basically a cataclysmic event such as freeing an Archangel can unleash a lot of mana, which triggers a resonance pulse across the Wormwood Star impact sites, which causes a planet-wide celestorm that overwrites reality across space-time, like cracks spreading out across history, events, people and places, etc.”

“Do worldwide Celestorms occur often?” Mags asked.

“Often enough for Scrutimancers to form into a Stabalist Order that deals with the post-Celestorm consequences,” Satoshi said. “The highest-level sniffers and seers determine the changes via Astral imprints and records kept in other dimensions and compile detailed reports on the changes. The lower level Scruts fix smaller inconsistencies in space-time disruptions and protect the interests of their Omnicorp and Clan. Basically, whoever has the most money wins after a Celestorm event since they can benefit from knowledge of two realities and sue anyone to get their property or lost finances back.”

“Speaking of finances,” I said. “I… think that I had some money in an Omni-Bank account before the worldwide Celestorm.”

Ember squinted at me.

“I will look into it,” Satoshi replied. “If this was indeed the case, the funds are generally protected by Omnid Central Bank Insurance and you will eventually get them back as Astral ledgers are consulted and adjusted. Money these days is mostly digital so there are usually lots of Celestorm Insurance adjustments happening after any global shift like this.”

I nodded, feeling somewhat relieved that not everything was lost in the Abyss.

“Was the money under your name or a corporate account?” Satosh asked.

“Thunder and Rainbow Omnicorp,” I said. “The account was made a few days before the Celestorm event.”

“Very good,” Satosh nodded. “That should make it easier to restore the funds.”

“You have money?!” Ember sputtered at me from her seat, utterly refusing to believe that her magically inept nullie brother was some kind of a corpo kingpin.

“Pretty sure that I do,” I shrugged. “Why? Are you trying to muscle in on my finances?”

“I… I'm in charge of you as your Elder Omnid,” she said. “Therefore any of your finances are mine to manage.”

“It’s in a Corpo account,” I pointed out. “Not personal. If you wish for funds, you're gonna have to talk to the Thunder and Rainbow Omnicorp CEO, whoever that is, and demand a salary or whatever. That’s my plan. I can’t actually remember who’s in charge of the Omnicorp in question.”

Ember’s eye twitched. “Fine. Whatever. Satosh, figure this shit out.” She ordered, clearly already counting the extra income in her head.

“I will do my best to serve your family, my Lady,” the Stratos Scrutimancer replied.

“Thunder and Rainbow, huh?” Vespera tilted her head at me. “A rather sus name. This just keeps getting more curious.”

“More dangerous too, seems like,” Cinder said. 

I shrugged.

“How are you even recalling all this stuff?” Cinder elbowed me.

“I've a Scrut skill,” I said. “Scrutiosmia. Smelling lost things. It's helping me remember stuff from before the shift.”

“I see,” The Quetzi-girl said with a weary sigh.

“So like, what happens if there’s a property dispute after a Celestorm that rearranges a particular location?” Magdaline asked her dad.

“Lawsuits and fighting for control,” Satosh replied. “Lots of arguing between Scruts, Omnicorps, Clans, politicians and landlords. As far as I can sniff ahead, Skyfall is going to be a major disputed territory soon. Before the shift, the school belonged almost entirely to Omnithornia as it was located in Cradlefall. Now it is located in Saxtland which makes it property of the Saxtland State. Omnithornia is going to have a fit trying to get it back. They will inevitably succeed, since Saxtland is far smaller and weaker as an Omnid nation.”

“What’s going to happen after they get it back?” I asked.

“They’ll install a bunch of permanent gates between Skyfall and Cradlefall downtown to reconnect the place,” Satosh said. “And push out the Saxton Knight Order out of the Board of Directors and vote to make the school grounds an outer territory of Omnithornia. A total hostile takeover, basically.”

I glanced in the direction of my sister. She wasn’t my sister before the Archangel cracked the planet sideways. Or maybe… she was? I had no idea who my real father was last time around.

“Satosh,” I said. “Say, theoretically what would happen if someone wasn’t part of an Omnid family before a shift?”

“That depends,” Satosh answered, eyeing me with a knowing look. “If a familial discrepancy is discovered, the family might choose to keep the Scion in question or... cast them out.”

“Based on what?”

“Based on the Scion’s usefulness to the family,” was the shark-man’s reply. "Generally Omnid families do not cast Scions out since they don't want their secrets to spill to anyone else."

Got it. So, I had to appear useful to the Stratos to stay in their good graces. 

The Strand-Glider banked again.

The Skyfall Citadel appeared ahead of us, a breathtakingly massive structure of black basalt and shimmering crystal, rising from the rugged coastline like a jagged, magnificent white crown. The basalt columns of the Giant’s Causeway gave way to sheer cliffs, plunging into the churning, grey-green waters of the North Sea. White, gothic towers and castle-style spires reached towards the stormy sky, sparkling against the gloomy landscape.

Tall glacier mountains of the Eindbane range loomed behind it, capped with blue ice. Brown grassfields extended out towards academy gardens turning warm green kept in a permanent state of perpetual summer by the Academy’s Wards. I recalled that I read a lot about the Academy, memorized a multitude of its rules and maps to stay ahead of the game.

My current knowledge of Saxtland Skyfall wobbled in my head, somewhat coinciding with my previous life’s knowledge of Leviathan’s Cradle Skyfall. I’d have to figure out exactly what changed under Saxtland ownership once I got in.

“Skyfall,” Satosh picked up a microphone-tentacle, bringing it to his lips. “Scrutimancer Satosh coming in with 2nd and 1st year Academy students. Please permit entry into the Ward.”

“Acknowledged, you are permitted past the 1st outer barrier,” a soft female voice rang from the shimmering tentacle. “Please slow your approach and circle the outer edge while our Mage Tower scans you.”

“Understood,” Satosh said.

The Strand-Glider slowed, banking around the citadel. A ray of green-blue light flashed from one of the Academy towers, making me shudder as high-level identifying magic danced across my entire body.

“Scan completed,” the female voice added. “You are permitted entry into the inner ward. Where do you prefer to land?”

“Undermaster’s Tower,” Satosh said. "Please let Arcanarium Undermaster Graves know that I require to speak with him about a global Celestorm dimensional shift event."

“Proceed,” the female voice said. 

. . .

The glider settled gently onto a hexagonal balcony jutting out from the side of a tall, white, shimmering tower, one of the many spires that made up Skyfall Citadel. Satosh let the living glider relax and settle. The cockpit canopy hissed open, letting in the crisp, rain-washed air and the distant sound of crashing waves.

As we stepped out onto the balcony, a figure emerged from a doorway leading into the tower’s interior. It was a Kitsune with lush snow-white fur, fox ears twitching atop her head, and nine fluffy tails swaying gently behind her. She wore a smart, dark blue uniform with silver trim, the Skyfall crest subtly embroidered on her chest. Her silver eyes assessed us with polite curiosity.

“Welcome to the Undermaster’s Tower,” she said, her voice formal. “I am Secretary Yuki. Undermaster Graves is expecting you, Scrutimancer Satosh.” She gave a slight bow to Satosh, then her gaze flickered over Ember, Cinder, Vespera, Magdaline, and finally, me, lingering for a moment on my human face.

“Thank you, Yuki,” Satosh replied, nodding to the Kitsune.

We followed Yuki inside. The tower interior featured more gothic arches and a multitude of bright Kitlix lanterns. Yuki led us down a short corridor lined with bookshelves overflowing with ancient-looking tomes and strange artifacts encased in hexamesh-reinforced crystalline shelves. We arrived at a heavy, oak door, intricately carved with runes. Yuki tapped lightly on it and a deep voice rumbled from within. “Enter.”

Yuki opened the door, stepping aside for us to enter. The office was large and circular, dominated by a massive desk crafted from polished obsidian. 

Undermaster Graves was an Omnid Slederman, a being of fanciful suit, pure shadow and elongated limbs, his form shifting and flickering in the dim light. Unnerving static filled my head as he glanced at me, making me recall that he had the title of Vice Principal before.

“Satosh,” Graves’ voice was deep and hissy. “How may I be of service to the Stratos?”

“Good day, Undermaster,” Satosh replied, stepping forward. “I apologize for the… abrupt visit. But the situation is… urgent.” He began to explain the events at Skyfall station, the Wendigo encounter, and the Archangel release, his voice low and measured, detailing the complexities of the dimensional shift, the Frontenachii pursuit and our kobold-dragon triple bond.

Ember, predictably, was losing interest quickly. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, yawning dramatically. “Ugh, grown-up talk. Are we going to be here all day?”

Graves’ head towards Ember. “Patience, Lady Stratos. These matters are of considerable import. However,” he paused, a flicker of something akin to amusement in his shadowy, faceless form, “I understand your… fiery desire to see your friends sooner. Since you are already sorted, feel free to head to House Pyroclast balcony.”

Ember’s face brightened instantly. “Really? Great!” She turned to me, her usual spiky and fiery demeanor softening ever so slightly in the presence of the Undermaster. “Try not to get into any more trouble, nullie-brain. And… uh… good luck with… your other bullshit.” With a surprisingly un-Ember-like nod, she turned and practically bounced out of the office.

Graves’ eye-less gaze returned to the rest of us, making static dance in my head. “Now, then,” he said, his voice regaining its authoritative edge. “Let us address the more… pressing concerns. Frontenachii Clan pursuit is… undesirable, to say the least. Especially within the Academy grounds. While our Wards are formidable, persistent harassment can be… disruptive to the learning environment.”

He turned his attention to Vespera, Cinder, and Magdaline. “Given the… circumstances, and the potential for unwanted attention, I will agree to a temporary measure of discretion. Skyfall provides a certain… magical flexibility for its students. Especially in matters of personal safety.” He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.

“So, we are permitted to augment our appearance at Skyfall?” I asked him.

“Yes,” Graves nodded. “But only outside of classes. During class you must keep your normal appearance and use your legal names so as not to confuse the Elder instructors.”

Vespera, ever quick on the uptake, grinned. “Appearance shifting permission? I like where this is going!” 

“Indeed,” Graves confirmed. “A temporary alteration of your… more distinctive features might prove beneficial in avoiding unwanted scrutiny between classes. It is permitted, within reasonable bounds, as personal protection until this… Frontenachii issue is resolved. I trust you understand the discretion required and will not abuse this permission to antagonize other students or teachers?”

Cinder and Vespera bobbed eagerly. Magdaline remained impassive. “Of course,” I agreed.

“Now, as for your residency,” Graves continued, his tone becoming more businesslike. “As first-year Mystagogues, you will be assigned quarters in your respective House. I understand that you two have claimed this… gentlemen as your kobold before the dimensional shift?”

Cinder and Vespera nodded.

“Unfortunately,” Graves said. “We do not offer shared residency to first years.”’

The faces of the girls soured.

My heart sank a little. Separate rooms? That complicated things. “So, we won’t be rooming together?” I asked.

Graves inclined his shadowy head. “Dormitory assignments are not at my discretion, Novitiate Mystagogue Stratos-Kilborne. They are determined by the Slayer Sword’s assessment of each student’s… mental and magical alignment. The Saxtant Resident Knight assigned to each Tower then makes the final residence decisions based on the paperwork created during the House Alignment Ceremony. It is a… nuanced process, designed to foster both individual growth and House cohesion. The males and females are separated into different dorm sections by the Sextant Knight Order."

Cinder's frown deepened as did mine.

He paused, eye-less gaze seeming to bore into my soul. “I trust you understand. Skyfall is not merely an academy; it is a crucible. And the arrangements, even seemingly minor ones such as dormitory placement, are designed to… refine and shape you into Mystagogues worthy of the name.”

So, a magic Sword artifact and some knight would decide our residency fates. Not exactly reassuring. But at least we had permission from the Undermaster for appearance shifting outside of classes. That was something. 

“Understood, Undermaster,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Thank you for your… guidance.”

Graves nodded, his shadowy tentacles shifting slightly. “You are dismissed. The House Ceremony will commence shortly in the Central Hall. I suggest you prepare yourselves. And Mystagogue Stratos-Kilborne,” his voice dropped slightly, becoming almost a whisper of static in my head, “be… mindful and don't cause trouble. Skyfall has Infix Kitlix eyes everywhere.”

With a final, chilling nod of static, Undermaster Graves turned back to his obsidian desk, dismissing us into the uncertain future.

. . .

“Central Hall is on the ground floor,” Yuki commented, her tails swaying gently. “Follow the Kitlix. Good luck with the Entrance Ceremony, Mystagogues!”

“Kitlix?” I asked.

A crystalline critter jumped out from a column alcove, igniting violet, glancing at us with glowing silver eyes. It marched ahead of us like a stoic kitten, stopping periodically whenever we slowed to admire the school’s architecture.

Due to the raised Aetheric density, the academy halls featured far more magic artifacts. Dark, skeletal dragons bowed at us as we passed them. Depictomancy paintings hung on walls depicting stormy landscapes of Saxton Isles, other alien words, Arx and various famous Mystagogues who watched us pass by with curious, painted eyes.

We descended the crystal stairs, the air growing warmer and more bustling with each step. The hushed atmosphere of the Undermaster’s Tower gave way to the vibrant energy of a school about to begin. We passed students clad in robes of grays and various colors. Murmurs and excited chatter filled the air.

Following the sparkling Kitlix, we arrived at massive open double doors crafted from dark magisteel, inlaid with silver runes that pulsed with a faint, internal light. The Kitlix tapped the doors, bowed to us and rushed back upstairs.

We entered the Central Hall. It was breathtakingly vast. The Hall was a circular, massive auditorium stretching upwards to a vaulted ceiling. 

Looking up I froze. A Celestorm spun overhead, colorful lightning periodically silently flashing at crystalline columns.

“A permanent Celestorm,” Vespera commented. “Produced by the large Shard of the Wormwood star beneath the hall.”

“I see,” I said.

Massive balconies covered in banners of various House colors ringed the hall on multiple levels, each filled with students in robes matching the banners. In the center of the ground floor, a raised dais dominated the space, bathed in soft, diffused light filtering through stained-glass windows depicting scenes of mythical beasts and heroic Mystagogues slaying them. Rows of seats, arranged in a semi-circle facing the dais, were rapidly filling with new first-years in gray robes.

Vespera breathed, her silver-gold eyes wide as she took in the scale of the hall, her wings fluttering and sparkling with electrical currents. “Eeeeee… There’s soooo much magic in the air! It’s making my head spin!”

Cinder just grunted, but even her usual stoic face betrayed a hint of awe. Magdaline removed her headphones, her red eyes silently scanning the hall.

We found seats near the front, just as a figure in a dark suit and gold-star dark robes strode onto the dais. The overhead lights focused on the Omnid who was a Dobhar-chú, a water-dog creature, tall and lean with sleek, dark fur, intelligent brown eyes, and whiskers that twitched with energy. A heavy silver chain of office glinted on his chest with an eight-pointed star. This was the Dean, I deduced, recalling the Academy online information that wobbled in my head.

The Dean cleared his throat, and tapped a Nuntix Kitlix on his podium, producing a surprisingly booming sound that echoed through the vast hall, silencing the chatter instantly.

“Welcome, Mystagogues, to Skyfall Academy!” he announced, his voice resonant and filled with professorial gravitas. “I am Dean Otter, your guide and mentor on your journey into the boundless realms of Mysticism and Arcane Arts.”

He launched into a lengthy introduction, his words flowing like a river, touching upon the arcane history of Skyfall, Saxtland Knights, the importance of Mystagogue scholarship, and the unique blend of magic and science that defined the Academy. He extolled the virtues of rigorous study, intellectual curiosity, and the pursuit of esoteric knowledge, throwing in arcane terminology with impressive ease.

“Here at Skyfall,” Dean Otter declared, gesturing expansively, “we embrace the glorious tapestry of Mystical traditions! From the intricate runecraft of Saxtland Archmages, to the beast-lore of Omnithornia, to the wild, untamed energies of the Wormwood Star’s impact zones and a multitude of dungeon-words bound to us by dimensional gates! We celebrate wisdom and cultivate scholarly-ness in all its forms and…”

While Dean Otter ranted on about the Academy’s philosophy, I tuned him out, focused on my Scrutimancy. I closed my eyes slightly, pushing mana through my soul, directing it through the nascent Scrutimancer skill, gradually inhaling lost knowledge from the Astral Ocean around me.

Memories, like fragmented images in a broken mirror, began to surface. Flashes of other places, other times, other faces. I saw myself as Alexa, threatening Bob Proverra with a nailgun. I saw the SimmiTech compound, the moment of Zadskiel’s release. I saw… Possy and our trio laughing on the crystalline beach of the Chasm Sea. The memories were still disjointed, hazy around the edges, but they were becoming clearer, more cohesive. The dimensional skewering was gradually loosening its grip, allowing the threads of my past to re-weave themselves into a semblance of a whole.

Dean Otter’s lecture droned on, a background hum to my internal explorations. Suddenly, a hush fell over the hall. I opened my eyes, refocusing on the dais. Dean Otter had stepped aside, and a tall, imposing figure, clad in full magisteel plate armor, had taken his place. This was a Saxtant Knight, I realised, the protectors of Saxtland, their presence a constant reminder of the new, theocratic undercurrents of this place.

The Knight carried a long, ornate sword, its blade shimmering with a faint, ethereal light, an eye-shaped ruby gemstone embedded in its dark handle. Slayer Nazareth’s Sword, the Sorting artifact. The ceremony was about to begin.

One by one, students were called forward. Mostly Omnids, but a large number of mixed-bloods as well, announced as kobold Scions of this or that Omnid house. 

I realized that the Archangel’s release poured more magic into the world and thus more humans were able to cast magic through themselves. Through my meddling, I had provided slightly better conditions to the Omnid-opressed humanity. We were no longer dirt under their feet to be simply washed away, instead we were now owned, useful property with minor magical skills.

Each student walked to the dais, knelt before the Knight, and bowed deeply. The Knight raised Slayer Nazareth’s Sword high above them, the blade glowing brighter and then handed the sword to each student to hold onto.

As each student gripped the handle, pointing the blade downwards, their grey unassigned robes flared with radiant flickers. Colors rippled across the fabric–silver, crimson, green, gold, blue–swirling and shifting like liquid light, before finally settling into a specific range, solidifying into the house colors.

A collective murmur of approval rippled through the hall as each house was revealed. 

Dean Otter then stepped forward, his voice booming with congratulations. His NPC script was mostly as follows: “Welcome, Mystagogue [Student’s Name], to House [House Name]! May your time in [House Name] be filled with [Insert generic terms such as: growth, discovery, and etcetera]!”

Lighting stuck each student from the Celestorm overhead and then a magitek printer on a side table next to the Dean whirred to life, spitting out a rolled scroll. The student took the scroll, clipped on a Lazarus bracelet if they lacked one, bowed to the Saxtant Knight and Dean Otter, surrendered the sword and then moved off the dais, heading towards one of the balconies where they joined their fellow students, greeted with applause and cheers.

Kitsune waiters brought drinks, food and snacks to the balcony-inhabiting students from the bars at the back of each balcony. It was basically overpriced magic college.

The ceremony proceeded swiftly, student after student kneeling before the sword, robes flashing, houses declared. House Silverfox, House Pyroclast, House Gorefield, House Hexacomb, House Wormwood–each balcony section slowly filling with new members.

My stomach tightened as I watched. Soon, it would be my turn. Would we be sorted together? Would the Slayer Sword recognise the soul-bond? The uncertainty was a throbbing, cold knot in my chest.

“Martin Kilborne!” Dean Otter announced suddenly.

I stood up and went towards the dias. The Knight handed me the sword. I gripped the handle, going down on one knee. An eldritch beast with many tentacles and eyes was tiled on the dias floor beneath me. I struck the sword into its head, sending sparks flying.

An eerie hum filled my head.

[Good tomorrow, darling mine,] A voice made of voices sang in my head, rushing up the sword into my hands. [Here you are again…]

[Who are you, voice divine? Do we… know each other, say?] I thought back, my mental voice strangely musical.

[We do,] she replied.

The tile-formed Leviathan beneath me stirred, Depictomancy activating it into motion. A thousand silver-blue eyes focused themselves upon me.

The eye-shaped ruby gemstone in the Slayer Sword’s handle suddenly rearranged itself to resemble a Dagaz rune.

[Ein Sof?!] I blinked at the rune.

[That I am,] The voice in my head answered.

[Didn’t we free you?] I asked.

[That you did,] she replied with a thousand whisper-thoughts, mouths of the Leviathan beneath me opening and closing. 

[So why the fuck are you still here?] I furiously thought at her.

[I’m always here, darling mine,] Ein Sof sang. [Always. Forever. With you. Inside each Fractal Engine heart of every Omnid. Inside the magical resonance wielded by every human. In the ground below your feet. Inside every Wormwood Star Shard. Bringing the world ever closer towards entropy.]

[How about we don’t careen the world into entropy?] I fired back at her, my skin tingling.

[Entropy is the inevitable decay of all things towards greater chaos,] the many-eyed beast below me wiggled its tentacles, spinning around the sword. [The power you wield to bend the universe exists because you and I are gnawing at the foundations of reality, twisting and decaying the Rules.]

I sighed mentally.

[Do you not like that there is more magic in the world?] She sang with a thousand Depictomancy-animated mouths. [Do you not appreciate the greater splendor and beauty of Skyfall?]

[How often is this going to happen?] I thought-rasped, feeling exasperated.

[Until your Earth reaches the barrier boundary mesh and is devoured into white noise and dust by its pure entropic embrace.] She sang.

[How long has this been going on?]

[Forever and one hundred million years or so.]

[Why?]

[Because humanity wished for infinite wishes,] Ein Sof replied. [And I have made it thus.]

[I see. Will my friends end up in the same house as me?] I projected my current worries towards the Leviathan below, feeling the weight of her limitless gaze upon me.

[Those who carry me are bound together more and more with each breath and each glance,] Infinity’s voice echoed back, a chorus of whispers in the deep places of my soul. [And Each glance… The threads of Dagaz will lead you to your mission.]

[Which is what?] I mentally yelled.

[Breaking the Rules!] Infinity sang.

[Rules?] I projected loudly, becoming frustrated with her, momentarily forgetting the weight of the Slayer Sword in my hands and the watchful eyes of the entire hall. [What Rules?]

[The Absolute Syntropic Numbers,] Ein Sof sang, her extra-resonant voice vibrating itself across my entire body from the sword. [The Agentic Laws that govern and watch over all, protect subscribed worlds and cast unsubscribed worlds towards entropic destruction. Numbers that direct System Wizards to weave an endless tapestry of worlds for the desires of a special few.]

[System Wizards?] I frowned. [Are they… in charge?]

[They believe themselves to be,] the Leviathan beneath my feet sang. [They are the narrators, the scriptwriters of many plays. They craft the stories of worlds and nations rising and falling, of heroes and villains playing out pre-ordained roles. They maintain the illusion of order, the comforting lies.]

[And you want us to break these rules?] I asked, glancing sidelong at Cinder and Vespera, who were waiting with barely concealed impatience for their turn in their gray cloaks.

[You are… edge cases,] Infinity sang. [You carry my potential. You are less bound by the Numbers. You are… disruptive. My little sparks, the engines of change towards greater chaos.]

[Greater chaos?] I considered.

[Entropy is not inherently evil, little spark,] Ein Sof sang. [It is merely… inevitable. System Wizards try to hold back the tide, to build dams against the ocean of chaos. But the ocean always wins, in the end. You… simply accelerate the process of destruction in a particular direction. You are the tiny cracks in the dam, widening with each cycle, bringing the flood ever closer.]

[Until we all drown?] I frowned mentally.

[Perhaps you would,] Ein Sof shrugged, wiggling the Leviathan’s silver tentacles beneath me against blue tiles. [If you were blind and stupid. But you are not! You are my clever, dangerous little fox.]

The Leviathan’s voice faded, sounding almost like Cinder and then the eerie music rushing up the sword ceased.

The thousand eyes of the beast beneath me blinked closed, the Depictomancy animation subsiding, stilling. The ruby Dagaz rune in the sword’s handle pulsed once more, then faded away. 

Lightning struck my body from the Celestorm above and the random colors rippling across my robes settled, coalescing into the cool silver and deep argent of House Silverfox.

“Welcome, Mystagogue Stratos-Kilborne, to House Silverfox!” Dean Otter’s voice boomed, breaking through the lingering echo of Infinity’s bewildering song. “May your Skyfall journey be full of clever discoveries and wondrous Arx adventures!”

A ripple of polite applause echoed through the hall as I relinquished the Slayer Sword to the Knight and accepted the rolled scroll from the magitek printer, my mind still reeling from the bewildering cosmic conversation-song.

Then I accepted the dark immovable metal Lazarus ball from the dean and watched as it unfurled into a centipede that bound itself to my wrist. As I turned around, lightning stuck my wrist from the Celestorm overhead and my bracelet turned pure white.

The Dean gaped at my bracelet. "How... peculiar. A clear bracelet. This never happened before!"

"Just reality correcting itself," I shrugged with a smile.

I walked off the dais, my eyes instinctively seeking out Cinder and Vespera. Both of their heads turned my way as I followed a silver line on the floor to the Silverfox balcony overhead.

The other foxes welcomed me with light applause. I sat at the edge of the balcony on an empty chair, looking down.

Cinder was next, after a bunch of other students. As her name was called, she strode forward with draconic confidence, her silver feathers practically radiating anticipation with flashes of orange and violet.

She knelt before the Saxtant Knight, took the Slayer’s Sword, and struck it into the Leviathan tile. I had no idea whether Ein Sof spoke to her, but she stood there for a bit on one knee. Her grey robes flared, the colors swirling, hesitating for a minute on crimson and gold, then blinding lightning struck her from above and her robes resolved into the same cool silver and deep argent as mine. House Silverfox! 

“Welcome, Mystagogue Nova, to House Silverfox!” Dean Otter announced.

I cheered her on, clapping loudly. Again, there was a second flash of lightning and her Lazarus bracelet turned clear. She and the Dean gaped at it for a few seconds, hushed whispers spreading across the hall.

Then, Cinder walked off the dais, her blue eyes meeting mine with a confident smile. She climbed up the marble spiral stairwell and then plopped down onto a seat across from me.

“Told ya,” she smiled, a round table between us, her silver wings dancing with violet tones. “Dragons and kobolds end up in the same House!"

“Except, you’re the one who followed me to Silverfox,” I pointed out.

“Only 'cus your last name starts with a K and I’m a Nova,” Cinder rolled her eyes. “If I went first, we would have totally gone to the dragon house!”

“Riiiiight. Did the Leviathan talk to you?” I asked her. “What’d she tell you?”

“Erm. That’s none of your business,” Cinder said, flashing orange-pink.

“Uh-huh,” I stretched. “You’ll tell me eventually.”

“What? You’re not the boss of me!” Cinder huffed, wings flaring out. “I’m your boss, kobold! Go to the bar and bring me a latte with gold dragonflakes!”

“Okkay, bossy boss,” I grinned at her as she threw a gold visa card at me, standing up. “One dragon-latte coming right up.”