Three months had flown by like a fleeting whisper, each day a grain of sand slipping through the hourglass of their stay. With every passing morning, the mages above ground grew more eager for the moment they could return to their homes in the silent world below. But the school held them fast, its rigid curriculum and unyielding lessons a final, lingering shackle that kept them tied to the surface world.
In the sterile, fluorescent-lit confines of a classroom labeled "Section 5: Manickal Advances II," Gala and Ian sat among dozens of other students. Their collective silence was a heavy cloak, only broken by the faint scratching of pens on paper and the rustle of turning pages. At the front, the teacher's voice droned on, a monotonous hum that felt like a thick fog settling in the air, muffling thoughts and dulling the senses. He was lecturing on the principles of manickal joule transfer, a topic both essential and excruciatingly dry.
"And so, when calculating the decay rate of a stable Manick construct…" his voice trailed off, replaced by the silent flow of equations across the smart board.
Gala, her own pen long forgotten on her desk, fidgeted in her seat. Her mind was a hummingbird, flitting from one distraction to the next. She watched as a small dust mote danced in a beam of light from the window, finding more fascination in its chaotic path than in the teacher's orderly explanation.
"Hey, Ian," she whispered, the words barely a breath. "Did you finish your list?"
Ian remained motionless, his focus so absolute it seemed to absorb the teacher's every word. He was a stone in a flowing river, his posture a quiet rebuke to Gala's restless antics. Annoyed, a familiar impulse surged through Gala. Her leg moved, a silent command to strike him under the desk. But before her intention could take shape, his own foot rose to meet hers, a phantom kick stopping her in mid-air.
"I can hear you," his voice filled her mind, not through the air but through the very bone. It was a sound as familiar and grounding as the earth itself, a constant presence she had grown accustomed to. "The list is done. And Nova already sent the message today. When class is over, we know what to do."
He refocused on the lecture, and the link between them snapped, leaving Gala feeling strangely isolated. She leaned her chin on her hand, her gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the exercise yard was a square of light, where Maram stood, instructing her students.
"When you use your Manick abilities, you give off a signature that lets others detect you," Maram's voice carried faintly through the glass, a clear, authoritative note. "Sometimes it's better to pour fewer joules into your abilities, to keep your footprint small so you don't disturb others."
With practiced grace, Maram drew two circles in the air. The lines of light shimmered, coalescing into two spinning vortexes, one big and one small. They were portals, identical to the ones Nova had formed, humming with a low, potent energy. The larger one thrummed with a deep, resonant hum, while the smaller one emitted a high, delicate whine.
"Alright, in two groups, step up to my portals and hold your hands near them. I'll teach you what Manick joules feel like."
All the students moved, their bodies a single, flowing tide of eager young mages. All except one girl, who stood frozen, her eyes wide with bewilderment. She looked around, wondering why the sea of students had suddenly receded from around her. Maram noticed her and gave a gentle gesture, beckoning with her hand. Once the girl was near, Maram's hands began to move, a silent language of hands forming the same instructions. When she was done, she asked the other students, "Can one of you make space for Dina?" They shifted, a small part of the huddle opening up, inviting the girl into their fold.
"Okay, Group Small Portal, how does it feel to be near it?"
The students had mixed reactions, their voices a babble of young excitement. "A small breeze!" a boy with brown hair shouted. A girl with braids chimed in, "Like a fan!" Then, a snickering boy in the back, a known troublemaker, yelled, "I don't know, a fart?" The children giggled, the sound a ripple of light in the tense atmosphere. Maram sighed, her unamused expression a cold wave against their humor.
"Let's get back on track. How does the bigger portal feel?"
"Like a small gale," one student said, a respectful tone in their voice. "Kind of like a storm."
"Does it feel like an even bigger fart!?" the boy shouted, his voice pierced the air, reaching even one of the student government members walking by.
Maram smiled, her eyes landed on a girl holding a sizable stack of papers. "Hello, Ms. Student Council Secretary. You look like you need some help. I've got a very unruly student right here for you. Would you mind taking him?" Maram's sarcasm was obvious everyone knew what was coming, and the laughter died abruptly, replaced by silence.
"I'd be glad to, Ms. Yankava." Ourania, her hair pulled back in a bun, gave the papers to the boy and led him toward the building. Her footsteps echoed a solemn rhythm on the floor. They walked to a classroom labeled "Section 5: Special Cases," and Ourania told the boy to wait in the hall before entering.
Inside, Ourania saw an unsettling tapestry of students. Their presence was a discordant note in the school's symphony. There was a man in a strange green uniform, a patchwork of different shades, looking like a forgotten soldier from another war. A girl in a dark gray sweater was hunched over, her lips speaking an unknown language as her hands danced across a sketchbook. A boy sat with two strange, shaved spots on his forehead, which gleamed under the fluorescent lights. And in the front row, a girl in a red cloak that was… sleeping.
The teacher noticed Ourania's arrival, a fleeting glance. She was a kind-looking woman with a neatly fitted modern glasses. "Let me wrap up this lesson. There are only 20 minutes left."
Continuing the lesson, the teacher pointed to the whiteboard. "Like I was saying, a Trans-Dimensional being, or 'trans-dim' as it's referred to in modern slang, is someone who is moved into another world by methods of inter-dimensional travel, like Jou." She gestured to the girl in the sweater. "But I'm digressing, class. The truth is, trans-dims are treated harshly in this society. In our world, there is a superstition that they are an unwanted disruption to the natural order. So please, look out for your fellow classmates."
Ourania stepped beside the teacher, her presence a sudden, sharp clarity that cut through the soft, academic atmosphere. "And don't harass other students, or you'll be getting a very official notice from administration. We take that very seriously here."
The teacher tapped on the desk of the sleeping girl. The girl, Ruby, stirred from her slumber, her eyes opening to find Ourania's intense gaze already locked on her.
"It's time," Ourania said, signaling the start of their mission.
Just as Ourania spoke, a yell ripped through the hallway. She rushed out, with Ruby following close behind, still daydreaming. "Get off of me!" the boy screamed, his voice raw with panic as a tall, broad-shouldered man in a yellow cloak held him up by his uniform.
"Will, put him down," Ourania commanded, the tip of her fingers already sparking with the cold promise of Manick joules.
"Why is that thing out of its class?" Will snarled, a cold and calculated look in his eyes as he presented the boy as if he were a specimen.
"He's a student. Now put him down," Ourania's voice was a low, dangerous growl as she grabbed Will's forearm, her grip like a vice.
"What's your name?" Ourania asked, her tone changing from a command to a soft inquiry.
"Bishie," the boy stammered, his body still shaking.
"You're not lying to me, are you?" Will asked, a glimmer of suspicion in his eyes as he looked from Ourania to the cowering boy.
"I don't owe you the truth until you put him down."
"Alright, alright," Will said, the fight draining from him as he set Bishie down. The boy stumbled, took a deep, shuddering breath, and clutched his collar, the pressure on his throat finally gone. Ourania bent to pick up the scattered papers and handed them to Bishie.
"This is a student from Maram's course," Ourania said.
"Why are you even here? You don't go to school anymore," Ruby questioned Will, her voice still thick with sleep and confusion.
"Sam said to meet him at his class. I was just on my way."
"I'm heading over there for some papers. We can walk together," Ourania said, her tone a command. She ushered Ruby and Bishie ahead, then leaned in close to whisper to Will, her voice a razor-thin threat. "You do that again, and I'll split you in two again."
Will's body went rigid. He remembered the last time he'd seen her truly enraged. The memory was a sharp, cold jab. He straightened up, and the group continued to walk toward Sam's class, the silence between them as heavy as a stone.