Chapter 32: The Imperial College

Matriculation was followed by us getting split into classes. Each one, of course, began with a syllabus and it emphasized that we would be ranked within the next lecture—because the Blackflame Empire couldn’t let go of rankings for one goddamn second—and finally, we were just told to discuss the syllabus amongst each other.

I had two classes with Jei Ren, apparently. Algebra and History. For everything else, I ended up having to go up to someone, hat-in-hand, for a crumb of conversation.

And because those people usually weren’t ranked extremely highly, they rejected me for some reason.

“Surely, elder brother can find better insights elsewhere,” a frightened kid said, sweat running down his face in rivulets at my merest attention.

“I may not be able to keep up with elder brother,” one other girl said. “Please approach Su Ling instead. She is far higher ranked than my lowly self.”

“Glassy Sky Arelius is a dragon among men, and this one fears that he may only hold this dragon back.”

At least they had the courtesy to point me to someone that wouldn’t piss their pants just because they caught sight of me.

Those guys, however, were… strangely adversarial. They loved having conversations about the course material, and how much they knew about it. They prompted me on my own knowledge as well. At first I had been too absent-minded to understand their veiled requests for my knowledge levels, and then I had heard a veiled insult.

And I responded to those very violently.

Of course, in this case, it was intellectual violence.

I browbeat him with several levels of algebra teachings, referencing mathematicians he had never even heard of, and just generally getting him to shut the fuck up, because he was truly annoying.

A part of me felt guilty for doing that. Just because it wasn’t violent didn’t mean that it didn’t rhyme with my usual way of doing things. And that wasn’t good. Besides, I needed to be a level-headed and likeable figure now, not just some young master bait, eternally hated and challenged for being the mouthy bitch that I was.

Class was dismissed around four, and I went straight to the bar to drink and unwind.

Who knew that school could be so goddamn hectic? 

No. This was nothing I had ever experienced in my life. I’d gotten into a regular old school in my past life, but this right here was Harvard on drugs. No, scratch that, this was whatever the hell they did back in Ancient China, with the scholar exams that were practically impossible to pass without having a master to specifically teach you how to navigate the questions. 

There was also the massive emphasis on rote memorization to consider.

I entered a bar that served beer, different from where I had met Chiara once before, and was immediately greeted by a pair of managers. “Glassy Sky Arelius, it is a pleasure to host you! Come this way!”

The bar was completely empty, which wasn’t unusual, since it was barely nighttime yet, but still a bit surprising. I followed the pair of managers up the stairs, feeling a little paranoid as I did. I cycled my madra in preparation for a Starfire Surge, already gauging the dimensions of the staircase to see if I could summon Star’s End along it.

Once I crested the staircase, who else did I see but Eithan Arelius, enjoying a glass mug of frothing golden beer, a lit pipe on the table as well?

I relaxed my madra and breathed normally while the managers led me to him, and gave him deep and appreciative bows before leaving me alone with him.

He grinned very widely at me, not saying anything while I stood there, waiting for him to speak.

“Nice to see you, too,” I said, taking a seat. Just as I did, a manager ran up using some sacred art, a mug of beer in tow, a blond lager at that. Okay. 

“I did not say this after your match with Jai Hojin because you had bigger things to worry about,” Eithan said, “And I still do think so. But I believe that you are ready now to hear this. I am proud of your progress in combat ability. Your victory was an immaculate one. You made no mistakes, and truly did outplay him in a straightforward and undeniable way. No tricks, just skill.”

I looked into my beer as he said those words. I already felt drunk, and I hadn’t had a sip of beer yet. “Thank you,” I said. “It was all thanks to you.”

Eithan shook his head. “I may have given you a starting point, but you chose to go at it the hard way, and you still emerged victorious. This is your win.”

I surreptitiously brushed away a tear. Eithan chuckled in an overtly mocking way. “Fuck you,” I said to him pointedly, and died a bit inside as I heard my voice crack. I raised my glass and took a nice, long swig of it.

Then to spite Eithan, I reached for his pipe to smoke it. He grabbed it as if he had known that would come all along. I still couldn’t fathom how I had telegraphed that, I really thought I was being slick.

“This leaf will congest your lungs,” Eithan said. “You’re not built for injury, and you’re not built for harmful substances either. Even alcohol is something you really shouldn’t be drinking.”

Wait, what? I mean, the thought to take drugs hadn’t really occurred to me as of yet. But still, the fact that it wasn’t an option, even tobacco, was…

Honestly, it was a relief. I guess the issue became very straightforward, then: just don’t do it.

Besides, I had better things to do. My body was something that demanded good care now.

“I got into the Imperial College,” I said. “It’s a weird place. Apparently, I’ll get to do refining in a month if I pass my exams, which I probably will, if I do them as well as I did the scholar’s exam. Speaking of that,” I said. “Apparently, just having a perfect memory wasn’t what allowed me this victory. This other scholar lady told me all about these mental parameters that scholar families measure.”

“Don’t mind those,” Eithan said with a wave of his hand. “They’re trying to measure the unmeasurable, and it hurts them more than it helps.”

I leaned forward. “Alright then, do you know how I passed?”

“It’s simple,” Eithan said with a grin. “It’s the same reason why I would get a perfect grade as well, given a similar level of knowledge: you saw.”

My eyes widened at that. What? “You mean like your Overlord revelation?”

Eithan barked a laughter. “Interesting knowledge, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, something like that. All the training I’ve put you under, all the situations I’ve pressed you through, were all to cultivate your sight, and give you an ability to see. Because seeing is understanding, and understanding is overcoming. With sight, you can do anything in the entire world. From beating any opponent to passing any test, and even advancing through the sacred arts.”

“Surely, it wasn’t that easy,” I said. “Discounting what we did in your cloudship, or what we did training to fight Jai Hojin, how could all of that have given me such an advantage? What else did that? What else could do that?” My mind raced for explanations. “Is it the passive effects of my madra? Blackflame madra makes Lindon more aggressive. Does Collapsing Star madra make me think quicker?”

“Close, but not quite,” Eithan said. “It’s your Jade cycling technique.”

The Eightfold Wheel of Reincarnation? “I noticed it made me more resistant to a dream madra attack, but… it made me smarter? How?”

“No, no, no,” Eithan shook his head. “Your Jade cycling technique is putting your brain matter through extreme amounts of mental trauma, day after day, softening it up. Not quite destroying it. You healed from the destruction that occurred while you were a Jade, and now your brain is simply… tender. Malleable.”

Plastic. Like a very young child, my brain was now receptive towards learning at an accelerated pace, because my neurplasticity, the ability of my brain’s connections to change and adapt, was increased.

“And thanks to your madra, it also takes on a… quick quality. Most important to me is your malleability, however. Your brain can be shaped to do whatever you want it to do. You will notice, therefore, that your comprehension and speed of learning is dramatically increased. Pair that with your preternatural memory, and well…” Eithan grinned. “You’ve seen for yourself the effects. You learned the entire system of written common within three days, absorbing the sum total of an Archlord’s most important scientific findings. Surely, you didn’t imagine that perfect memory did all of that. Learning and memorizing are not the same thing, you know. It’s unbelievable how many people conflate this.”

I slumped back on my chair at this news, feeling shaken as well as elated at this news.

“There is a downside to this, unfortunately,” Eithan said, and I immediately honed in on his words. “Your mind doesn’t belong to that Imperial College. You can clearly tell this, can’t you? You took six days to learn what it took to master an exam that only the best and brightest ever attempt, and still the acceptance rate is less than ten percent. You will take one month to complete your year, and then move on to refining.”

I shrugged. “Yes, why? Are you going to give me a refiner master?”

“No, that’s too expensive. By all means, exploit the College for all they are worth,” he said. “Do something interesting too, if you’d like. All I’m saying is that this isn’t your ceiling. In the greatest nations of the world, this isn’t even the ceiling of the lowest of their scholarly institutions. If you want to increase your power, you will unfortunately have to settle with my tutelage.”

“Of course!” I said, feeling ready to leave the day with those weirdos at the College behind, and get to doing some real work. “By all means. You know I’ll never say no to some teachings from you.”

“I admire your enthusiasm, but as they say, if a student is enthusiastic to learn from you, you’re doing something wrong. Finish your beer. We shall start now.”

000

When he said now, he literally meant now. At the bar, while I was one entire three quarters of a liter of beer down, without an ounce of food in my stomach.

And in true Eithan fashion, he trained me with a stick, a literal thin willow switch he had pulled out from his robes. I was told to count every single plank on the ground within seconds. 

What the fuck was that, anyway? Ten reps of counting to ten, ten attempts to spell the word ‘embarasmint’, twenty reps of remembering every animal until failure? Some literal kiddie shit, but Eithan gave that kiddie shit some stakes.

I shocked myself by getting the count done by about a minute. He interrupted me by smacking me around with a stick, hitting my bruises over and over. I bit through it and continued counting. I was good at swallowing pain when it came to training. My one redeeming value as the violent asshole that I was.

After planks, it was the grain count on each plank. And he wanted me to plainly tell him, instead of counting. I had to remember each plank. The details on the planks were fuzzy.

Because I failed to See.

I only saw the plank. I didn’t see the grain, didn’t see the chips and holes and scratches and imperfections. 

This was what it meant to See.

I remembered the feeling of Seeing Jai Hojin vividly, of that perfect row of exchanges that ended in victory for me.

What Eithan wanted of me was at least ten times more demanding.

And it didn’t stop until I started crying as blood streamed down several parts of my body, albeit in very thin trickles, barely droplets really.

It hurt, though.

It hurt a lot. And I desperately wanted to stop myself from hating Eithan for hurting me so bad, because I knew it was for good.

“You could have completed this training, you know,” Eithan said. “Instead, you chose to drink and blunt your senses. Is this really how you will continue moving forwards?”

I shed another tear. 

I understood what he meant, but I hated that he had to do so much just for me to get the picture. Yes, I was in constant danger, being one of Eithan’s disciples, while he had so many enemies at that. I was a high-profile figure now, too, meaning I needed to be ready for anything.

I cycled my madra into Starfire Surge and kicked the table onto him. He had moved neatly away far before it could hit him.

I glared daggers at him. “You want to make a point about anything I do that you don’t like, Eithan, then talk to me like I’m a man, not a boy. I’m not your least favourite son that you can just whip around on a whim.”

Eithan didn’t smile at that, to his one credit. 

“But I get the fucking concept,” I said. “Now, is there anything else you want from me, or can I go home now and nurse myself back to health?”

“Do something about your breath, too, when you get back home,” Eithan said with a grimace. The statement shocked the anger out of me, as a wave of self-consciousness overtook me. I took a step back and looked down.

I overreacted again.

I looked at the table, now a pile of broken wood, and pursed my lips.

Yep, I overreacted.

I walked downstairs to one of the managers with a handful of high grade scales adding up to several thousands. “Apologies, but I broke your table,” I bowed deeply at him. “Please accept this payment for the table, and as an apology for the inconvenience. As penance, I won’t come back here.”

“Ah, no, that’s fine!” The manager said quickly. “Thank you for the payment, but it is not necessary at all!”

Eithan had paid the man off to chase every other patron then. Made sense. I shook my head. “Keep it. If not as a gain to you, then as a loss to me, to teach me a lesson.”

A lesson that I direly needed.

Baby steps. One baby step forward, fifteen adult steps back. Why even bother at that point?

Was it really just the drinking that made me lose my top like that? Perhaps there were more factors than just that, but still, I’d much rather just heed Eithan’s advice. He was right in any case. If it was for the sake of self-defence, then I might as well just…

As I walked out of the bar, I muttered a mousy “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” at the air, too cowardly to face him.

With most of my arms, neck and face stinging from lashes from a thin stick, I headed home.

000

After getting some meds in me and managing to close my broken skin—though still leaving behind tiny strips of pink scar tissue that stood out vividly against my skin tone—I took my Thousand-Mile Cloud to see Lindon and Yerin.

I brought with me a lot of food and good drinks—non-alcoholic of course—and touched down in their little camping zone next to the crabs.

“Big brother is here!” I said with a wide grin and outspread arms. “And guess what! I became a scholar after all!”

Lindon and Yerin had been cycling by the time I appeared, in each their little alcove in the walls. They crawled out from their caves to see me arrive with a backpack filled with fun stuff: three dozen dumplings in a wooden box, a water-tight glass jar of soup, a tightly locked and large jar of rice as well, a jar of beef stew, a trio of plates and cutlery sets—chopsticks and soup spoons—and finally a kettle and a bag of tea for after the meal.

They were, as always, incredibly tired upon seeing me.

Rude! 

Once I started unpacking the good stuff, their interest piqued. Even Yerin looked at it all with ill-contained interest.

“You didn’t fail, then?” Yerin asked. “You said you failed. Won’t you just know from not being able to answer the question?”

I laughed heartfeltly at that. “That’s not how these exams work,” I said. “Or exams in general. There are levels to a good answer, like tactics in a fight. A thrust is the right answer to ‘how to attack’. But what’s the context surrounding the target of attack? What about the attacker? How does the ground look? Where is the sun? Is he smiling or frowning? Where are his eyes? See what I mean?”

“Starting to dawn on me,” Yerin said as she watched me unearth the beef stew. “Heavens bless my soul,” she whispered. 

“See?!” I yelled. “You do like this!”

“Today was a heavy day,” Yerin said. “We got close this time. We pushed hard, and Lindon came dead close to beating it. I’m stone certain we’ll get it in another week. I don’t know about Lindon, but I’m looking to celebrate now.”

“I am as well,” Lindon said. “Gratitude, Sky. You came at a good time.”

I laughed in joy at that. “Cheers and celebrations!” Things were progressing well then. 

“Tell us about the Imperial College,” Lindon said. “I’m very interested to hear it.”

I told them what I had experienced, that it was no different from a sect or anywhere else that sacred artists gathered, only they competed in the realm of knowledge, and not combat or madra. Yerin didn’t doubt that, but Lindon was still intrigued. I told them that I hadn’t learned anything interesting yet because we were still just beginning, but I did hold a matriculation speech in which I ended up not pissing that many people off.

While we spoke, I had reflected on a lot of the things I hadn’t said to them, like the fact that I was doing therapy, what I had done to the previous number one, and what I was truly capable of doing given no fetters.

Even in the letters I sent to them, I left out everything about Frozen Heart.

I wondered what they would think of me if they knew what I was.

Disgust, probably.

Yeah. Disgust was likely.

I tried not to think about that too much. I still wanted to have an enjoyable night, even if the weight of my imperfection started making itself known in my chest, as if like a physical weight.

Perhaps… they were the anchor to my conscience? What if my rejection sensitivity was what it took to overcome Cold Heart?

Maybe I should stake my mental health on their approval?

That… didn’t sound right. 

I guess I’d see with Sai Hong anyway.

000

Class rankings were determined by class participation as well as test scores, and since we were still so early into the semester, we only really had to worry about class participation. The high scholar, a step below the fellows in rank, would pick a random person out to answer a question when we raised our hands. Usually, it was the highest ranked among us that he would pick, but he had plenty enough questions that I could snag a plurality of answers without spoiling things for everyone else.

Rather than spam the class with my input as such, I answered only five times, and then answered more whenever no one in the class had an answer to the question, rather than let the high scholar humiliate someone.

At times, they would ignore my upraised hand and still pick on a struggling student, who would inevitably fail to answer. Then I would apparently be left with the ignoble task of explaining things to my class once the high scholar singled me out for an answer, pressing it out of me in order to shove the hierarchy into the faces of the other students.

Something which I didn’t agree with.

So I answered wrongly, to hell with my participation grade. I didn’t want to be the snooty shithead that rubbed in their superiority. I was in the enviable position of never having to be wrong if I wanted to, and that was quite frankly alienating.

Between classes, I would meet with Segun, and we would trawl the libraries, looking not for published books, but published research papers and reports from scholars all across the empire to cross-reference our work with. At other times, he had me working in the capacity of a data monkey, reading through letters and firsthand accounts of various people from the countryside that decided to share their past with us, revealing important information about contemporary history—which in Cradle terms, was history that occurred within a timeframe of almost a hundred and fifty years from the present.

Still, I did my job admirably and without fault. It was boring, and I didn’t have much say in anything at all. Mostly, I felt like a presence to Segun, a mind subordinate to his own, that would just do the hard stuff so he could make the fun points about society.

Days turned into weeks as we worked like this, and the more I learned of his projects, the more I had things to say about his desire to paint the transitionary history between the Blackflame dynasty and the Naru dynasty as utterly seamless and perfect beyond reproach.

And Segun got nastier and nastier with my blatant disagreement of whitewashing history in such a way.

“I don’t have time for this, Sky,” he said. “Either you work within the parameters of my project, or I’ll drop you. And then you can’t do your exams early!”

Segun was a hypocrite.

He was charming and cute with everyone else, but the moment someone gave him even a bit of reason to use charm as a weapon instead of his authority, he defaulted to authority. I didn’t understand him, nor did I want to.

I just wanted this to be over.

Eventually, the blessed day came, and all my assessments hit within a week’s period.

I wouldn’t call any of it trivial, to be honest. They each felt at least as strenuous to me as the scholar’s exam. All this time, complacency had been my biggest fear, so I had vowed to always try just as hard as I had during the scholar’s exam.

And the result was…

More than I expected.

Perfect grades. Across the board, even.

My literature teacher even offered to help me publish my work—a book report on Anibius—, for some reason. Surely, it wasn’t that impressive. My initial take to Eithan was that I thought romance stories were dumb and romance should always be subplots, but honestly I didn’t see the reason in discounting an entire genre based on my own arbitrary judgement.

Hence, I approached this matter, a comparative analysis between his work’s courtship processes in society, in a more objective way, melding literature with social science in order to make a point about the world that we lived in, which was essentially that romance was dead. I recognized the irony of this, considering my past, but I was young: it was my prerogative to be a broody emo.

Honestly, I didn’t expect that to resonate with anyone. I had just been banking on the fact that it was well-written enough from a technical perspective that it wouldn’t straight up embarrass me or anything like that.

I did let her publish it because I was curious to see who else gave a shit. I had no plans to debate, however.

Suddenly, I was doing refining theory with fellow Shim and the second year grade, a month later than every other second grade. My ranking had taken a hit as well. Couldn’t tell anyone where it lay now. All I noticed was that it was no longer number one, and that’s about how much I cared about it.

At least it wouldn’t have the teacher single me out.

I stayed quiet during my first lesson.

Still, Shim singled me out, whenever no one was able to answer.

I answered terribly. Of course. Considering I hadn’t had access to the course material as of yet—because in this fucked up school, you literally couldn’t borrow or access material too advanced for your level—I was shit out of luck. Most of it was off-base conjecture based on what I knew about herbalism and biology. In the best case scenario, I was tangential to a correct answer.

And my lovely classmates had caught on, none of them raising their hands anymore, expecting Shim to pick me.

I caught on pretty quickly, too.

“What is the best way to intensify the effects of the arubia fruit?” he had asked.

I raised my hand. 

“Glassy Sky,” the wizard-like alchemist said.

“I don’t know.”

I put down my hand.

Everyone was dead quiet as they looked at me with wide eyes, some expectant, some with a cruel glint, others genuinely amused but afraid to express it.

Fellow Shim just laughed.

I didn’t react as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop picking you,” Shim said. “Tomorrow, you better come prepared, however. You’ve only missed a month, after all.”

Certainly. I’d be prepared about three hours after this lesson ended. All I was asking for was fairplay.

I gave a bow of gratitude, fists pressed together, and he continued the lesson. Out of context, it was hard to absorb, but I took what I could from it anyway.

Once the lesson ended, I just walked out of the room. I didn’t have a backpack or anything like that. I didn’t need to take notes after all. Not many did, but some did carry writing equipment, since not everyone had cheat skills.

Some guy blocked my way, along with a posse of friends, all looking at me with angry expressions, for whatever reason. I activated Starfire Surge and got past them and continued on through the hallways, skipping that entire cutscene. 

I was on my way to the library after all.

And I couldn’t imagine a more tragic thing than a scholar bullying me, and me finding it in my black heart to retaliate. I could literally break his neck in a second, it wasn’t fair at all.

Obviously, I’d just avoid that test of character altogether. Didn’t have time for it anyway.

000

Once I gained access to the refining class, I had the ability to get all the course material that I needed. Nothing stood in my way now.

Except Segun.

He walked up to my usual table in the library and slammed his hand on it, loud enough to get all the scholars surrounding me to listen.

“We were supposed to meet,” Segun said.

“Oh,” I said.

Then I kept reading.

Segun snatched the book away from me. I blinked flatly at him. “So you’ll be a child about this,” I said, standing straight, and looking down at him. 

“What?” Segun said with an expression of pure disgust writ large across his face. “You’re quitting now? After everything I did for you?”

Patience, Sky.

Just lie to him.

“I was busy studying,” I said. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Just let me finish up.” Or will you be a child about this? I debated on groping his spirit with my perception to make a joke about whatever nonexistent offensive technique that he might have. Would he send a nightmare at me or something?

No, no, no. Be calm, Sky. I shouldn’t scan the poor old man. That would be rude. 

“You think I can’t get your scholarship revoked?” Segun asked.

I could have said and done a lot of things at this moment.

All those things were wrong.

So I walked away.

And went home.

000

I endured Eithan’s mind training with a stiff upper lip. This time, I didn’t react personally to the torment. We were counting people passing by the streets, a simple exercise taken to an extreme level, all in order to improve my observational skills as well as my predictive capabilities. We identified them by certain markers, predicted their paths, and for a pregnant moment, I felt that I could sense the trajectory of all those disparate people in one instant.

It never lasted beyond that instant, so impractically brief as to not even matter. And all the while, I tried not to think about the fact that almost everyone I had met in this fucked up city were just so mean.

As always, I brought more food, stories and strategic advice to Lindon and Yerin. It felt nice being so unambiguously wanted, and not made to be manipulated or attacked for some reason or other.

I tasted the crab made from Lindon’s Blackflame one time, just to see how it was. The fact that they had endured it for so many months gave me a newfound respect for them. They laughed as I nearly threw up, retching on all fours. Even Lindon was amused. 

“This tastes like rotten vomit soaked in piss, and dipped in a vat of poison!” I groaned. Oh my god. Breathe through your mouth. Even the smell lingered. “How did you eat this?!”

They only laughed in response. Even Orthos was having a grand old time laughing at me. Little Blue chimed hysterically. Fuck them all. 

Back at the College, I owed Segun some assistance for the help he had granted me. That was true. Still, I couldn’t abide by his work, or the way he was treating me. Even the smallest question brought forth fresh waves of irritation from him, making him show his age as well as his attachment to this oh-so precious hierarchy of his. It was toxic.

And I wanted no part in it.

The morning after, I went straight to Fellow Shim’s office to speak with him. His office was a refinery in miniature, a small cauldron, ingredient station, and an ingredient shelf lining one wall. 

He was busy poring over his cauldron, slowly stirring a mixture. With one hand, he forestalled me instantly. “Silence.”

I slowly and silently entered, and stood still for the duration of time in which he stirred.

That turned out to be an hour.

By the time I was ready to live, inwardly cursing and seething, Shim let go of the cauldron and focused his attention on me. “Speak, Glassy Sky.”

“Can I apprentice under you?” I asked him.

Fellow Shim frowned. “You? You’ve not even been in my class for two days and you want me to give you my personal attention?”

“Apologies,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me,” I had completely lost the plot after having waited for an entire hour. “What I meant to say was that, in exchange for Fellow Segun allowing me to skip the year in a single month, he made me into a partner for his project. He has been abusing this partnership however, and now I want out.”

Fellow Shim frowned. “Abusing your partnership? How?”

“For one, I’m not a partner. I follow his whims completely, yet he intends to make me a co-author. I don’t understand it. If I have the status of a partner, shouldn’t that allow me more freedom?”

“Fellow Segun is your elder!”

“So is my grandma, but I don’t take her advice on advanced algebra,” I said with rolled eyes. 

Fellow Shim laughed at that. Wow, okay, I thought I had lost him.

“Apologies, sir,” I said, “I just no longer want to work with Segun. Surely just because he’s an elder, he doesn’t get to treat me with such disrespect and contempt, does he?”

“Segun let you work for him, and his productivity shot up,” Shim said. “I cannot understand why he is unhappy with you. What is it you tell him?”

“I fundamentally disagree with his work,” I said. “I think it’s stupid and pandering to the current regime. If I’m to plead obeisance to the emperor, I’ll do so directly, but to dedicate academic field work in his name, even when it is inaccurate, and in some cases wrong, is something that I am profoundly uninterested in. I’m interested in real science, not state propaganda.”

I literally have no love for the Blackflame dynasty either. They were psychotic, in the literal sense of the word, and propped up their economy via plunder and overwhelming power. The Naru were better in some ways, and worse in others. It really wasn’t that black and white.

The golden age of the Blackflame dynasty totally outmatched anything the Blackflame Empire could ever be under the Narus, which wasn’t an indictment, honestly. At the time, their main rival were the dragons and the Akura clan.

To be honest, all this Blackflame hatred was honestly quite irrational to me, to the point that it objectively didn’t make any sense, and was only serving to hurt Lindon now. The Blackflames were hardly even active for the last one hundred years as the final dregs of them slowly succumbed to the illness of their paths, either bedridden, or handled by their Naru servants who had confined them, most of the time against their will—but I’ll definitely concede, it was for their own good. The death toll of their rampages were only four digits in a span of fifty years. By and large, the ones that still had their heads on straight acted the role of statesmen with admirable composure, no different from the Narus. Just… ill and infirm.

I guess maybe the one that had attacked and scarred Gwei, and the ‘wild Blackflames’ as they called them, were the real threat, but the former Imperial family were more chill than people gave them credit for. It was the Path that was the problem.

Hmm… I guess that still made Lindon a valid problem in their eyes.

Seeing Segun ignore all of this, and go on about the rabid Blackflames and how much better the illustrious and pure-hearted Narus were was just shocking to behold. And also none of my business. If he wanted to spread state propaganda, that was his prerogative. But I didn’t want my name attached to that shit.

“Do you tell him this?” Shim said with a raised eyebrow.

I shook my head. “No. I’m aware of etiquette of course, and the full extent of my objections have never been revealed. Yet, he doesn’t even want to entertain the slightest question. At times, I ask him to explain a concept that I know to be wrong, and he lashes out at me. And I am being subtle.”

Shim scoffed. “Segun is as far from a true scholar as one could possibly be in the fellowship. Apologies that you had to learn it this way. But if you want my protection, you must prove that you are worthy of it.”

“I am,” I said. “I also noticed that we don’t do practicals until the second half of the second year as well. Why don’t you bump me up to third grade?”

Fellow Shim shrugged. “As you wish. In tomorrow’s class, I will be targeting you for questioning. And they will be the most advanced questions I have in store as well. Be prepared. If you aren’t, I won’t waste my time keeping you under my wing. You are dismissed.”

I gave him a brief bow and walked away.

I really wanted to punch something, holy shit. 

Was Shim even any better? 

Well, at least he’d actually fucking teach me the thing I wanted to learn here in the first place.

Time to load up on theory.

000

Fellow Shim hadn’t lied. His questions were advanced. End of syllabus level advanced, even, to the point that one wondered how he ever expected me to answer any of his questions.

Luckily, they were all theory, and nothing you couldn’t find in a book. The right book.

The librarians had been helpful, and Fellow Segun hadn’t harassed me today, as we had no appointments today for his project. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the tidbit that he was supposedly more productive with me around. That felt… profoundly strange to me.

Surely, there must have been a point where he thought he could use my ‘fellow-level skill’ in a partnership basis, and then decided that the partnership was a mistake, and he should instead have taken me as an apprentice. In that case, I would have been unambiguously subordinate to him and his mission.

I read up on scholar culture on the side, and found that yeah, I really didn’t have to stick around with Segun anymore. He was relying on my fear of the hierarchy, of which I had exactly none, instead of the codified rules and laws of the institution, and as a ‘partner’, I was under absolutely no obligation to just suck a higher-ranked scholar’s dick, even if he was a fellow. A co-author was a co-author, and I didn’t want to put my name on anything he put out if it implied that I did half the work.

Which I did. It just wasn’t under my will.

Still, there would be consequences, having a fellow as an enemy. Hence Shim. He worked double-duty as an instructor of refining and as an aegis to protect me from the more toxic influences of the school’s administration.

All in all, I had crammed a hundred and fifty documents for study into my brain. The majority of them had significant overlap, some disagreed, and others were ambiguous. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole of research on the authors as well, and the general state of the discourse surrounding their work, coming to better conclusions about what to keep in my head and what to throw away. 

“The kraka leaf has how many veins when it is in full maturity rifest with power?”

“Twenty-seven veins on one side, thirty on the other. And the tip should hook back to touch itself. And it is important to note the composition of aura in the air as well. In order to harvest it safely, it is better to use a script-circle to thin the aura around the plant for ease of extraction, and to prevent undue reactions. Keep the kraka leaf in a scripted box for transportation, and use it in a refinery product preferably within the week.”

The more I learned about refining, the more it became clear why refined products were so expensive. 

“Alright, that’s it,” fellow Shim said. “Go away. You pass this class.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Evidently, I was alone in my relaxation.

“Fellow Shim, are you jesting?” the number one of the class, a guy with long, lizard-like tails for hair, stood up with a start. His hair twisted violently during his tirade.

Someone else used some tentacle-like Goldsign growing from her back to stand up higher as well as a statement. In a moment, all the scholars were shouting above each other.

And then the old man cycled his madra quite violently. I could feel it stirring my own spirit, though not enough to really affect me. Jai Long’s displeasure had been almost ten times worse, and I could still stand and fight.

“I don’t have time for this,” the elderly fellow growled, “Whoever passes or fails my class is up to me, fellow Shim! You young pups know nothing about the heavens or the earth, and you dare question me? I was a refining master before any of your grandparents were even born!”

Damn. Okay.

Fellow Shim sent a glare at me. “What are you still doing here? Get out! Come to the next class after this one.”

“The third-grade class,” I heard someone whisper in awe.

“I need books,” I said, “For that class.”

Fellow Shim tossed me a medallion. “Return it before the next lesson.”

I stood up, gave a deep bow of gratitude, and walked out.

Expeditious did not even begin to describe this guy.

000

After the third-grade class, which I was only somewhat well-versed in on account of only having had forty-five or so minutes to study, fellow Shim had told me to follow him to his office.

I dreaded having to wait an entire hour for him to address me, but instead, he immediately got to brass-tacks. He let his cane lean on his cauldron and sat behind it on a chair. I sat on the other chair as well, cauldron between us to the point where I could only see his hat.

“You know nothing,” fellow Shim said.

“Yes,” I admitted readily. “What I know lets me pass tests and satisfy the curiosity of high scholars and fellows, but what I know about what I want to know is practically null.”

Shim’s hat nodded. “You need practicals. The main parts of refining that makes it truly difficult and special are the aspects that include the sacred arts. Purification, intensification, separation and condensation. What you know with your mind, your hands do not. We must remedy this.”

I nodded. “So… when?”

“Right now,” fellow Shim said, in a tone that suggested I was dumb for even asking. “Go over there to the wall with the ingredients and gather the necessary components for a low-level healing pill. Try to apply your third-grade knowledge, and I promise you, things will end badly. So be humble and do it simple. Or maybe prove to me why a child shouldn’t be rushed through their education without having been instilled with a sense of caution.”

I shrugged. This worked for me. And I could be plenty cautious when I wanted to. I approached the wall of tiny square drawers. My eyes scanned over each and every label, and I decided to settle on what most of the books termed the healing elixir for kids just starting out on refining.

I took the ingredients, a nokus stem from a plant rich in life aura, a box of roe from the blooddrinker trout, and pure spring water.

I put the ingredients over the ingredient table, a wide tray with tools right outside the tray, knives and scalpels meant for separation and got to work. I finely chopped the nokus stem, and then threw it in the cauldron after checking its contents for anything gunky that I had to clean out. Thankfully, there was nothing.

“You keep a clean station,” I told him. 

“I’m the best refining instructor in the empire. Of course I keep a clean station. And what is this, anyway? The healing elixir for kids?”

I scanned the cauldron for its controls, and found a band of madra like a touchpad, and touched it, sending a measure of my spirit through it to control. There was an inbuilt gauge that projected the temperature directly into my mind like a dream tablet, so controlling the heat wasn’t the difficult part.

“You said simple and risk-free,” I shrugged. “I’m just figuring things out.”

I took the ladle that was placed on top of the cauldron and started stirring. Here came the hard part. Using my madra to intensify. The cauldron would purify the ingredient and burn away the unnecessary stuff, but it was up to me to guide the process. I didn’t have to use my own madra directly, but I did need to sort of override the cauldron and reach my madra around the chopped-up stem, pressing it tightly, sort of like a Copper advancement.

I did it as carefully as I could.

The stem compressed. The colour went from a dark brown to a verdant green ball.

Phew. That was easier than I thought. Shim looked into the cauldron and hummed appreciatively. “Good madra control,” he said. I grinned. I definitely didn’t lack for that.

I tossed in the roe. The hundreds of tiny clumped-up fish eggs rained down into the cauldron, but didn’t touch the sides, instead just landing into this invisible funnel powered by the madra of the cauldron itself.

The roe burned, purifying as it did, and soon melded with the green ball of life aura, creating brown. Not a very appetizing color, but that was why some refiners would use food coloring in their purified water.

That didn’t matter right now, though, because this color would go away with more intensification.

I cupped the concoction with my madra through the cauldron, making sure to create a compressive shell with no flaws or weak-spots from which pressure would concentrate. I also made sure not to go so overboard that I intensified the concoction to the point of rendering it completely inert and solid. That would take time and effort to reverse.

Instead, I only went to the point that the brown turned into a more verdant green. Only then did I insert the water. Only a trickle at first to temper the concoction. Then that trickle followed with more as I sensed that the concoction stabilized with the introduction of more water.

The elixir then went from green to blue, like the sky on a cloudless day.

Perfect.

I led the concoction through a spigot built into the side of the cauldron. The invisible funnel led it into it, and I looked around the room for a glass flask. Shim just handed it to me. I took it with a nod, uncorked it, turned the spigot and began inserting the healing elixir for kids into the flask.

It was a healing elixir that could heal a single scrape, and not much more, and the effect was only noticeable if you dabbed the concoction on a wound, or bound it in a paste and applied it to bandages. Really cheap stuff that any old civilian with some parts and a cauldron on hand could do.

Shim took the flask and drank from it. He swished it around his mouth, gurgled it, and then spat it out while cycling his madra, letting me know that he was on some kind of fire path. The elixir turned into steam as it exited his mouth, and he observed even that.

“Don’t drink random elixirs made from students,” Shim said. “I did this because I supervised the process, thus I knew there was no chance of poisoning myself. You, however, should never get careless about refinery safety. Rule number one in a refinery?”

“Don’t eat or drink anything,” I said. 

“Nothing at all. Not even the food you bring from outside. It could get contaminated by some ingredient, or it could contaminate your work.”

I nodded along with him.

“Don’t experiment alone either, or work without supervision. In four days, we will have practicals. You will be behind the class, but that won’t matter. You won’t be doing the same things as them. During it, I will push you until you reach incompetence, and then we can do some real learning from there.”

I bowed deeply at him. “Thank you for taking a chance on me, sir. I swear that I won’t disappoint.”

“Even if you do, I don’t really care. You’re not my great-grandson and I’m just your teacher. If you fail my class, I will simply fail you.”

Okay, fair.

I guess my Imperial College experience starts now.