As Whitney and Maylyn grew more familiar with Cynthia, they began to uncover pieces of the quiet storm behind their new roommate. Cynthia was enrolled in the Practical Magic Department, the same as Whitney, but she had also signed up for courses in marine biology.
From their growing conversations, it became clear that Cynthia's fascination with marine life wasn't casual. It bordered on obsession.
Their conversation was interrupted by the soft click of the doorknob turning.
A girl entered the room. Shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes full of restless energy, and a petite frame cloaked in a floral shirt and simple brown pants. Everything about her gave off a strange brightness, like sunlight filtering through storm clouds that refused to break.
She smiled and asked in a cheerful voice, "Hello, girls. I assume you're my roommates? Otherwise, your presence here is concerning, ha-ha. I'm Elise. Nice to meet you."
The trio, already expecting her arrival, responded quickly.
"Hey, Elise! I'm Whitney, and these are Maylyn and Cynthia. Come sit with us; we were just talking and getting to know each other," Whitney offered, her tone inviting.
"Great! Let me grab my bag and the rest of my luggage first. Huh… where's your luggage?" Elise asked, suddenly looking around in confusion.
"Oh, we mailed ours ahead. The school should deliver them tonight. Didn't you?" Maylyn replied.
"Ah, right. That was in the acceptance letter. Now that I think about it, hardly anyone had bags. But that costs extra, doesn't it?"
"Thirty-five trons, I think," Cynthia said, her voice as calm as still water.
In the Evernight Empire, the currency system was as intricate as its politics. The base coin was the Sterling, followed by the Talon, and then the Tron minted from Trinvester. Trinvester was a rare, pale material. Sixteen Sterlings made a Talon. Twenty Talons formed a Tron. And above that, higher denominations—10, 20, 50, even 500 Trons.
"That kind of delivery's a luxury I can't afford," Elise chuckled. "You girls must come from pretty privileged homes."
"Wait... if delivery was too expensive, how did you afford tuition?" Whitney asked, brow furrowed. "I'm here on scholarship, and it's still 150 trons for the first year. Without one, it's more like 300 to 600, right?"
"Oh! Full ride. Magical Tools Department," Elise beamed. "It covers Practical Magic too. Everyone back home lost their minds when they heard."
"Another oversharer," Maylyn thought, smirking quietly to herself. "Just like Whitney. Now I've got two of them. Thank the Shepard Cynthia's normal."
Elise returned moments later with her luggage: a backpack, two duffels, and one massive suitcase. The others jumped up to help.
"How'd you carry all this up two flights?" Cynthia asked, eyes narrowing.
"Two tall girls helped me. Seventh floor. They were sweet," Elise replied, a bit too casually.
As they finally unpacked and settled in, someone glanced at the clock.
It was past 1 p.m.
"Lunch?" Whitney suggested. "Want to check out Hansforth?"
Cynthia and Elise nodded.
"Perfect! Come with me and Maylyn."
Hansforth, named after Duke Hansforth Feynapotter, a founder of the Evernight Empire, surrounded the academy like ivy on stone. The city was older than its name, layered in time and soot.
As they stepped onto its ancient cobblestone streets, the four girls felt a thrill. For now, the city welcomed them.
They came upon a lively restaurant near the campus gates.
"Let's eat there!" Whitney said,.
"It looks pricey..." Elise hesitated.
"Don't worry, I'll pay for everyone."
"You really don't have to—"
"I insist!"
Money, to Whitney, was more illusion than asset. Born into wealth, she'd never once considered the weight of coins—only the sound they made when handed away.
Cynthia and Maylyn exchanged glances.
Elise hesitated. "I just met you. I don't want to… take advantage."
"If you're worried about that, you're definitely not," Whitney grinned. "We're friends now, right?"
Without waiting for more protests, she pushed the door open and strode inside. The others followed.
The restaurant greeted them with clashing smells of fried food, spice, salt, and something faintly metallic beneath it all. The air was loud with laughter, chatter, and the occasional sharp clink of glass.
As they settled into their seats, Whitney excused herself to find the restroom.
She passed tables, conversations blending into one another. Friends reuniting, lovers bickering, students gossiping.
And then something strange.
"Have you found the artifact?"
"Yes. I believe it's in the Hiddleston Wilderness."
"Tell me everything."
Whitney slowed her steps, trying to listen, but the voices slipped through the cracks of the restaurant's noise. A veil fell between her and the truth before she could pull it aside.
"Artifact? Hiddleston?" The words nested uneasily in her thoughts.
On her return, she passed the same table. One of the men stood and tapped his chest four times. A symbol? A prayer? A warning? Then he walked out.
The other man stayed behind.
Back at the table, Whitney leaned toward Maylyn.
"Hey... do you know what an artifact is?"
Maylyn blinked. "Like the ones in old legends and tales? I guess. Why?"
Whitney hesitated. "No. Not those." She quickly shifted topics. Then, mimicking the chest-tapping motion, she asked, What does this mean?"
Maylyn frowned. "I've never seen it before. What's going on?"
"I'll tell you later."
Just then, Cynthia looked up from her menu. "Decided what to order yet? I'm going with onion soup and pasta."
"Baked potato and salad," Elise said, eyes twitching at the prices.
"Steak with fried potatoes," Maylyn replied.
"Garlic seabass," Whitney said.
The waiter arrived, took their orders, and asked for drinks. Whitney nudged Elise until she agreed to one.
The bill came to sixteen Talons and thirteen Sterlings. Whitney paid seventeen Talons, telling the server to keep the rest.
As they stepped back into the streets, Elise glanced at Whitney, admiration flickering in her eyes—perhaps respect, or something deeper.
Whitney felt a soft heat rise to her cheeks.
They headed to the carriage stop near the academy, ready to explore the legendary downtown market said to be older than any building in Hansforth. Some merchants even whispered their stalls had always been there, immovable and unchanging, no matter the era.
Laughter echoed. Wheels turned. The afternoon awaited them.
Much is waiting ahead.