Omen of a Bluebell

I scramble to my feet and dust myself off, huffing as loudly as I can to make my displeasure known.

It has no effect.

The office I’m in is only slightly larger than the one Amanda brought us to, but instead of a tidy space befitting a respectable member of staff, this space is is a total mess of books, vials, glowing arcanite, and papers.

All throughout the room are plant pots of various sizes, each and every one filled with a different plant from the next. Most seem fairly normal, but a few of them seem to writhe and wriggle in their planters.

The movements send a shiver down my spine.

Much of his desk is hidden beneath massive piles of paperwork, much of which is stained by ink or spilled vials of… questionable substances.

The walls pique my interest though. Bookshelves line each side of the room, and there’s only one tall window directly behind the desk that seems to be there only for the natural light. Aside from that, the place is about as simple as it can be.

No decorations, no gaudy fixtures, no paintings or expensive looking furniture…

I refocus my gaze on the elf, giving him the most intense glare I can muster. He may be the Archmage of Wonders, but teleportation without any kind of warning is just... rude.

Of course, forcing someone to go through a teleport unwillingly requires obscene levels of power, so it’s not exactly something that can be easily abused…

But still.

Even if I’m fairly certain he could just swat me particularly hard and turn me into dust, I still want to give him a piece of my mind. He paces back and forth before me, hands flipping through the papers I'd only just filled out minutes ago, a grin on his face.

Just as I open my mouth to speak, though, he beats me to it.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful. From what I could tell, you have every affinity there is… and your mana! Gods, why do you have so much at Tier One?” he asks excitedly. “What are you?”

The blunt question causes me to freeze for a moment as he eyes me up and down, and I’m suddenly all too aware of the outfit I picked this morning.

It's nothing too complicated, of course. But it's still my pretty outfit.

A cropped cream-colored blouse with puffy sleeves and stuffed with ruffles across my chest, paired with a swirling skirt of purples and my favorite cross-strap sandals.

I wanted to dress up a bit for this meeting. Put my best foot forward, and all that.

Now I'm just annoyed, though.

I fold my arms over my chest as he scrutinizes me. His gaze doesn’t feel lecherous, but it still somehow feels like my privacy is being invaded.

“I’m a foxkin, clearly,” I mutter discontentedly.

“Pah!” he barks, half laugh, half scoff. “You needn’t lie, I mean you no harm. I’m simply curious. And I need to know, regardless, if you’re to enroll.”

I keep glaring, and he sighs, visibly deflating.

“Would it make you more comfortable to know that there are already several new races among the students enrolled this year?” he asks.

Despite my efforts to remain angry with him, my ears perk up with interest.

He takes that as his cue to continue, his eyes lighting up with the gleam of a merchant who’d just reeled in a customer.

“We even have a class entirely designed for the cooperative study of said alterations and their side effects. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from them, and teach them much in return.”

My eyes widen a bit at that. I knew that Morena and Kiri both made a change that reintroduced once extinct sentient species to the world, but I hadn’t heard anything about them yet.

Until now. Wait… am I one of those?

After a moments thought, I discard the idea. My race evolved with the System update, presumably before the world notices went out.

So… not likely?

He nods, then continues in a slightly sterner tone. “I see you’re interested. Then, once more, please tell me what you are. No lies this time, young lady.”

I hesitate for only a moment.

“I’m a Faefox… um, wait, really? You have a class dedicated to just that?” I ask.

“Of course!” he huffs, seemingly offended by my doubt. Then he starts to pace back and forth between me and his desk, arms gesticulating grandly. “This is the great and magnificent Elderwynd Academy, child! We exist to learn and to teach, nothing more. System Day is the most exciting thing to happen in the field of magic since the—er, well, never mind that. Were you a foxkin before the update?”

The sudden question throws me off, but I nod.

Is he always this scatterbrained?

He pauses in his pacing to rub his chin thoughtfully, then crosses the room to one of the bookshelves on the wall to my right. One of the wriggling plants tries to wrap a tendril around his wrist so fast I barely see it move, but he swats it away in a blur of movement.

“Faefox, is it? Faefox…” he mumbles, fingers sliding over book spines. “Hm… yes…” he continues, sliding a book from the shelf, hands whipping through the pages.

“Fae… so made of mana, certainly… to some degree, anyways. Akin to fairies maybe?” he glances at me, eyes sparkling with intellectual curiosity. “Hm… a fusion? More beastkin, less fae. Marvelous.”

I clear my throat loudly, no longer willing to put up with his dissection, and it snaps him out of his rambling.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Apologies, my curiosity gets the better of me sometimes. Let’s see… right, the next question is: Are there any negative side effects to your race that you have noticed? Instincts that are intrusive or harmful for you or others? New dietary requirements or physical needs?” he asks, hitting my primary concerns right on the bullseye.

I lock up, but he just waves a hand through the air with a hint of annoyance, as if he wishes he could just brush away my reticence.

“Come now! No need for embarrassment. I ask only so that if there are any such negative effects, we can find ways to help you alleviate them. That said, even minor changes are important, so leave nothing out. If it helps, you can start with small things, like…” he taps his chin for a moment. “Perhaps you like beef more than you once did, or the smell of fruit agitates you…?”

He sounds more like a Healer than a mildly obsessed researcher.

For what little comfort that offers…

I silently curse my past self for wanting this meeting, then sigh.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m more obsessed with my appearance, specifically my tail and ears. More cuddly, too—” I pause, my cheeks warming, then quickly clarify, “—but only with people I’m close to. Both might be because of my past, rather than my Race, but still.”

I hesitate to say the next part, concern filtering through my resolve.

“Uh, I won’t get in trouble for any of this will I?”

He frowns, but only for a moment. “So long as you aren’t an active threat, of course not. You are far too low Tier to be an active threat though, so please—speak freely.”

That statement immediately rubs me the wrong way, and a hint of anger presses against my reservations. I push it down as the thought that led me into Tier One echoes through my mind, calming me.

I’m not strong, but I’m not weak either.

With a deep breath, I make the next confession in a rush.

“I kinda eat people when I get really upset.”

He quirks a brow at me. “Explain.”

“One of my Racial Skills is a rage Skill,” I say, then raise a hand to correct myself. “Well, it’s more than that, but—”

“The Skill influences you when you’re undergoing emotional turmoil and you do things you otherwise wouldn’t do normally?” he interrupts.

I pause, then nod sheepishly. “Yeah. That.”

“Interesting!” he starts pacing again. “Though, Racial Skills are generally boons, not curses. What do you get from it?”

In for a copper, I guess…

“It doubles my Stats.”

He stops dead in his tracks, his head whipping towards me. “What?”

“It… doubles my Stats?” I try again, significantly less confident.

He grins wide as he approaches, stopping only once he’s barely a pace away. “Truly?”

I nod, cringing away from his quickly growing feverish excitement.

“Oh, fantastic! Well, excluding the whole eating people thing, but that can be managed. Incredible! Only while upset, though, you say?” he asks, and I nod again. “Huh… easy enough to counteract with some emotional control. No worse than lizardkin or goblins, I’m sure… yes… yes, you will do nicely! Let’s finish your enrollment right away!”

He all but dives over his desk, frantically throwing papers, arcanite, and vials all throughout the room—some cracking or, having already been opened, outright spilling all over the mess covered floors.

One lands in the squirming plant that tried to grab him, the bottle mouth planted firmly into the dirt and dumping its contents inside.

It explodes in size, nearly touching the ceiling. Flower buds quickly bloom, opening into bright purple blossoms with star-like twinkles within their centers, looking almost identical to the starry stone surfaces of the Tunnels themselves.

Then it withers and dies just as quickly.

Oookay! Don't get hit by his potion bottles. Got it.

Eventually he finds what he’s looking for, setting aside a flat white manastone with intricate carvings on its surface and a small stack of papers.

“First things first! I can offer you two options, and they are as follows: You can go through normal enrollment as a normal student. Your enrollment will be covered as promised, as will that of your friend. You’ll still need to visit the research center on a regular basis for our studies on the Faulted No More, but other than that…”

I perk up at the mention of Cari being covered as promised, and he seems to notice.

“Aha, I see your emotions are expressed rather vividly in your tail and ears. Were you as expressive before the race change, or is that a new development?” he wonders, derailing himself.

I huff in annoyance at being called out like that, and he snaps back to the topic after clearing his throat.

“Ahem, right. Yes. The second option is this: I will personally sponsor your enrollment into the Academy. You’ll even be granted a weekly stipend for living expenses!” he says, seemingly more excited about this idea than anything else so far.

I tilt my head at him, enjoying the gentle tinkle of my earrings.

“So what’s the catch?”

His eyes sparkle with delight. “Good to know you’re not ignorant. The catch is that you must follow three rules,” he says, holding up three fingers and counting them down as he goes. “First, you must live on campus.”

I’d expected to stay on campus anyways, so I just nod.

Who wants to spend all that time walking to and from the Academy? It’s already huge in and of itself.

“Second, you may only leave the Academy with an escort.”

“Huh?” I cut in, my disbelief clear in my tone.

He pauses his countdown to explain.

“There have been instances—even before the update—of students with rage Skills losing themselves to their abilities. We like to keep an extra close eye on them for their first year, at least. Also, you can think of the escorts as bodyguards who double as retainers, should you discover a new aspect to your race that may cause… issues.”

I frown at that, but I can see the logic of it. Hells, I’d have liked to have helpers before.

Maybe I would have realized my estrus started before I got all flirty and stupid.

I nod.

“Lastly, you must have your full Status recorded twice yearly,” he says, bringing his last finger down before folding his hands on the desk.

That makes me frown. “Is that really necessary?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a general requirement for all students enrolled into Elderwynd to do that only once a year. For you, I'd like to see your progress a bit more in depth.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, and my ears fold back to show my displeasure.

“There have been cases of Skills with more sinister effects that are difficult to control or detect,” he says with a frown of his own. “Annoying, really. But don’t worry, no matter what Skills you have, we have specialized courses designed for such things. Worst case, we’ll design a new course just for you—though I doubt that will be necessary.”

Also understandable, but… my Titles.

On the one hand, I’d wanted to meet with him because he was the best bet at finding someone powerful and trustworthy to help me figure things out. On the other, I have no idea if I actually can trust him.

I can just not show the Titles. Or my third Class. That should be fine.

I mentally shunt all the blame for my impulsiveness onto past Emilia and curse her existence.

“I guess that’s okay,” I say.

“Wonderful! This here,” he starts, holding up the carved manastone, “is going to be your student identification. All you need to do is insert a little mana into the stone and it will handle the rest.”

He tosses the ID stone to me, and I quickly check it with Relic Whisperer.

Elite Mana ID

Epic, Blood Binding

Enchantments:

Perfect Mana Record

This item reads and stores the mana signature of its blood bound owner.

Perfect Visualization

This item can display information gathered by a connected enchantment or user.

This is set to internally display results via customizable Status and is currently linked to the following enchantments: Perfect Mana Record.

Tracking

This item can be tracked by its blood bound owner so long as it is within 100 miles of them.

I put a little bit of mana into the stone and there’s a slight pinch where it magically pricks my thumb for the blood bond. It lights up into a kaleidoscope similar to the mana reader from before, except it freezes into a static image after a while.

Whoa... that's trippy.

Name: Emilia Ken

Race: Faefox

Level: 63

Titles:

I snap the face of the ID to my chest so the Principal can’t see it, willing it to hide the vast majority of my personal Status. At a glance, I can tell that the Principal wasn’t trying to pry, but he is still waiting for me to finish with the item.

After a quick peek to make sure my changes went through properly, it shows:

Name: Emilia Ken

Race: Faefox

Level: 63

Attendance: First Year

With a nod and a sigh of relief, I ask, “Why give me such a fancy ID?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s because you’re going to be sponsored by me personally. Most students get a simple Mana ID of rare quality, but some get one similar to yours if they’re sponsored by nobility or some such," he says, waving dismissively.

I nod again.

At least it’s not entirely unique. That would have been annoying.

“Now then, your Status? I’ll have to record it before I can send Selenia the final paperwork.”

I hesitate for a moment, trying to decide if I should attach any Titles at all.

System Waker, Dungeon Pioneer, and First of Many are all off the table outright. Each have implications that would only lead to more questions than I want to answer right now.

Then there’s Weave Walker. I figure it’s safer to also keep that hidden, just in case. He knows my Race, and he’ll see more details on it and Manaborn, but… I don’t even know what the implications would be.

‘What’s Death?’ is one that… should be safe? I mean, it says I’ve died three times, but that’ll only lead to questions like “Why?!” and “How?!”

I can live with that.

Then again, I think of how he might be expecting to see a Faulted No More Title, which I just don't have.

So there's no winning here. I just have to pray he lets it slide...

So I send him my Status with my third Class and all Titles hidden.

Limited Shared Status

Name: Emilia Ken

Race: Faefox

Age: 20

Level: 63

Health: 34,620

Health Regen: 12,617 per minute

Mana: 471,891

Stored: 943,782

Mana Regen: 4m per minute

Stats:

Strength: 500

Constitution: 769

Dexterity: 1,299

Intelligence: 989

Wisdom: 5,898

Charisma: 500

Available Stat Points: 0

Racial Skills:

Manaborn

Fae Ferocity

Magic Resistant

Combat Class: Bloodwind Mystic (L)

Active Skills:

Bloodmist Fist

Blood Burst

Scarlet Barrier

Hemokinesis

Passive Skills:

Body of Scarlet Skies

Bloodwind Resilience

Bloodwind Harmony

Bloodwind Essence (Evo)

Profession Class: Dungeoneer (E)

Passive Skills:

Sense Danger

Dungeoneer’s Insight

Seeker’s Survival (Evo)

Relic Whisperer

General Skills -

Total Suppression

Meditation

Intimidation

Persuasion

Deception

Etiquette

Dancing

Fire Resistance (8/30)

Poison Resistance (19/30)

The moment I do, a frown creases his face and my heart sinks. He fixes me with an intense glare. Suddenly, a wave of intense pressure emanates from him, similar to how I felt with the Archivist, but… more.

My Sense Danger, which was quiet before, rails against the change in atmosphere, and I let out a squeak of surprise.

Every sense I have screams death. My ears ring, my palms sweat, my blood all but stills itself in my veins as I freeze in place, utterly terrified.

His voice breaks through ringing, sounding… disappointed.

“I believe I explained why we need to see everyone’s full Status to you. I was not joking, Emilia Ken.”

My heart, which already feels like it’s struggling to beat properly thanks to the pressure in the room, stutters through several beats and threatens to give up outright.

His voice reverberates in my skull, forcing me to register his words despite my state of being.

“I may play the excitable old man from time to time, but I do not waver in my duties. I have done my research. I know you have multiple Titles, ‘First of Many’ and 'Faulted No More' being among them. And I do not see either here,” he continues, his frown deepening.

Then his eyes narrow, and the pressure intensifies.

“I can also do simple math. Your Stats do not line up with the rarity of your shown Classes and your level. If you attempt to hide something from your status again, I will not be able to accept you into the Academy.”

…Past Emilia is officially fired.

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