Omen of a Bluebell

I fold instantly.

This is all just too much, and my fault besides. I look down, feeling like a scolded child.

She tuts at me.

“None of that. Honey, send them to one of my interrogation rooms already, I don’t want them peeping on the rest of her enrollment,” she says, shooing the spy.

The Headmaster lets out an affirmative grunt and the intruder vanishes with a puff of air.

“It’s going to be a pain to keep him quiet,” he says with a frown.

“I’ll handle that. Now then, we’re going to need to get her a better ID. Do you still have one of those soul bound ones you made?” she asks.

His eye twitches. “You mean the ones you said were ‘an irresponsible use of resources’?”

Selenia slowly turns to face him. Her expression is a mask of pleasantness, but her eyes promise murder.

“Yes, honey. Those ones. Remind me—how many did you make?”

He shifts on his hovering perch as though he suddenly regrets ever having spoken at all. “One hundred and fifty.”

“And how much did it cost?”

He looks away. “I… can’t seem to recall.”

“That’s because I handle the budgets,” she says, her smile not reaching her eyes.

I stand stock still, both concerned and confused.

Concerned because she’s somehow scarier than the Headmaster, and confused because I’m absolutely certain I shouldn’t be partisan to their spat.

He seems to come to some sort of decision, and straightens abruptly, hands clasped in front of him and head bowed with apology.

“My love. My light. You are, of course, correct. I still have them, of course. I’d never waste so much money and resources, especially with all the hard work you put in.”

“Mhm.” She taps her cheek, staring his half-prostrated form down. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

One of his hands flicker for a moment, and the ID I’d already bonded to appears in it. There’s a tiny flare of mana, and it instantly turns to dust. Then even the dust seems to phase out of existence.

That’s when I feel something in the palm of my hand, and I blink at it for a second before recognition hits. Everything is happening so fast that it’s taking me a moment to register even this much, but somehow the Headmaster swapped my tag with a new one.

Elite Mana ID

Epic, Soul Binding

Enchantments:

Perfect Mana Record

This item reads and stores the mana signature of its soul 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 soul bound owner so long as it is within 100 miles of them.

It’s the exact same, except soul bound. Just as they’d said.

They can make soul bound items? Or… he can?

From what I’d learned, that wasn’t really a thing. It’s why soul bound items are so damned rare. But apparently, he has one hundred and fifty of these things.

That he made himself.

I look up, wanting to ask about it, but the Headmaster is already moving on.

“We’ll have living arrangements ready for you before noon,” he says, all business. “For you and your friend, of course.”

“Already arranged,” Selenia interjects.

“Ah, perfect. I’m glad someone handled it already—”

“Someone being me,” Selenia murmurs.

He twitches at that, but continues, “All that’s left is uniform measurements and school supplies.”

He’s rushing through it all, speaking faster and faster, as though the longer I’m in his office, the more likely it is that I’ll manifest another problem for his wife to lash him for.

I almost chuckle at the visual, but manage to remain deathly silent for the sake of self preservation.

It doesn’t take much longer after that. I finish bonding to the new ID, sign a few papers, store away an Academy handbook, and then… I’m done.

Then I remember there’s one more little problem I have to find a solution to.

My estrus cycle.

Despite the craziness of everything I’d just gone through, I can still feel the medicine burning itself out as time passes.

“Headmaster?” I ask hesitantly, and his brow twitches. “Could I… could I talk to Headmistress Selenia in private for a moment?”

His eyes light up with joy at the idea, and Selenia gives him a scathing glare, opening her mouth to interject.

He speaks before she can get a word out.

“Absolutely! I leave you in her capable hands!” he says with far too much enthusiasm.

Then, just as suddenly as I appeared in his office, I’m somewhere else again.

Is this going to be something I have to get used to? Gods, I hope not.

The office space I find myself in is cleaner, the lighting softer and the space cooler. Instead of the scent of unknown alchemical mixtures, plants, and ink, this space just smells clean.

Selenia lets out an exasperated sigh to my left as she rubs her temples. She moves to sit in the chair behind the desk and takes a deep breath, her posture shifting from domineering wife to caring Headmistress.

When her gaze finally lands on me, it’s suddenly filled with a mix of concern and gentleness.

“This place should be private enough, given the enchantments in place. Please, sit. Relax. What is it you wished to speak about?”

Her voice is gentle and soothing. Inviting, even.

In an instant, all the embarrassment I hadn’t had the time to feel crashes into me all at once, and warmth spreads across my cheeks. I make my way to take a seat at the front of her desk, unable to meet her gaze.

The floor seems far more interesting than the upcoming conversation.

But I know I have to. So, after situating my tail in my lap for courage, I speak.

“It’s…” I start, then pause for a moment to groom my tail nervously. “It’s my estrus. It’s… bad. And the medicine isn’t working. At least, not fully.”

“Oh?” she hums. “How potent are we talking? Do you need to be isolated from the male students until it has passed, or…?”

Her voice is tinged with a hint of protectiveness I hadn’t expected. It’s as if she wants to ensure I don’t harm myself as much as other students.

A tiny knot of embarrassment uncoils in my chest as her concerns wash it away.

The question makes me hesitate for another reason, though. I only now realize that my cycle hasn’t been pushing me to find a male mate.

As a matter of fact, I haven’t even felt even the slightest bit of interest towards any man I’ve seen since this all started.

I think back on the Headmaster, curious now. He’s handsome, certainly. Incredibly so, even. But I test my thought of him as I had with Bella, Nyria, and Krissy.

Nothing. Not even a spark of curiosity or interest.

Which… fair. I’ve never once thought of myself as a home-wrecker, but still.

Before the update, even though my cycle was much less intense, it was broader in its effects. It increased my arousal towards… well, anyone that looked even half decent, really. Female or male.

It was honestly kind of weird, because I never found myself attracted to men unless my hormones were doing stupid hormone things.

But that’s not what’s happening this time. While I’m happy that my attraction to women has somehow been taken into account by my instincts, it's also concerning. There’s too much I don’t know about the changes I’ve undergone.

I frown.

“Is something the matter?” she asks suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.

“No. I mean… yes? Maybe? It’s not that. I’m not—” I run a hand down my tail, trying to smooth out both fur and anxiety. “I’m not interested in men. At all.”

“Ah.” She nods. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to assume.”

I shake my head, still not willing to meet her gaze.

“It’s not that. Before becoming this—” I wave a hand to gesture myself, “—I did have some general attraction to both men and women during estrus. But…”

She lets out a understanding chuckle. “And now you aren’t.”

I nod.

“It’s more focused. Exclusively on women, for one, which is different. Better, I guess… but it’s also stronger than before,” I say, then hesitate. “Much stronger.”

She hums thoughtfully.

“I see… that suggests your instincts were somehow rewritten to match your actual orientation when you changed,” she says, a delicate nail tapping her cheek. “Interesting. Let me see your ID for a moment, if you please.”

She holds a hand out, so I pull the ID from storage and quickly pass it over.

She pulls a small device from her own storage that seems purpose made to clip onto the side of the ID, with a tiny flat bit of polished metal. Once she attaches it to my ID, she waits silently until the bit of metal changes colors to match that of my ID.

The colors of my mana.

Another recording of some kind?

I give her a curious look when she passes my ID back after removing the device.

“I’m not surprised the medicine isn’t working,” she starts. “I’m assuming it’s a type of birth control for beastkin?”

I nod. “Apparently a more potent dosage than normal, but it’s still losing its effectiveness.”

She shakes her head with a chuckle.

"Normally a bit of magic is enough to close the gap between species, though not entirely. What works for beastkin wouldn’t work for humans, for instance…” she trails off, once more giving me that look that invites me to put two and two together myself.

Her eyes crinkle the moment understanding hits me. I groan loudly and slump into my chair, suddenly feeling like a complete moron.

“But I’m not entirely beastkin anymore,” I grouse.

She grins. “Exactly. Just like medicine for a beastkin won’t work for humans, it also won’t work for fae. The fact that you are still partly beastkin is likely the only reason the medicine had any effect at all.”

I slump a bit further into the chair and pull my tail up to hide my face.

Then what am I supposed to do?!

“I’ll send a new medicine to your dorm room tonight.”

I instantly perk up at the declaration, my gaze snapping to meet hers finally. There’s a gentle smile on her face, giving off calm reassurance.

“Really? There’s medicine for fae? But… how? I thought they were myths. I mean, I know they aren’t after my race change, but…”

“Yes and no. I’ve recorded your mana signature so I can put together a medicine that works with it. It'll just take some time to put it together for you," she says, her smile widening. “And there’s a reason they are seen as myths. For that matter, I’d like it if you keep your Race hidden, as you had before meeting my husband.”

I nod immediately, more than willing to concede to damn near anything if it means getting my estrus under control. My tag settings were already set to show my race as foxkin, so I would just leave it as is from now on.

“Good. It's not likely to remain secret for long, given how many of us have investigative or truth seeking Skills, but we can at least try,” she says, and my mind stutters for a moment.

I suddenly understand why the Headmaster was asking her if I was being serious earlier. She must have Skills like that.

She stands, then pauses. "Oh, and just so you're aware, the medicine will be a bit experimental. I'm not entirely sure of what the side-effects will be, but I'll let you know once I put something together. Okay?"

I nod again.

Whatever the side effects are, so long as I can keep myself sane, I'll deal with it.

"Good. Now let's get you back to your friend."

In no time at all, she guides me out of the office and back to the entry hall of the Academy’s administrative building. A few more people are lined up to speak with Amanda, the day now properly in full swing.

I was a bit surprised earlier—given how large the Academy is—that there weren’t people in the hall at all times. But I guess it was just too early in the day for people to start trickling in properly.

My eyes lock onto a familiar figure across the hall.

Unfortunately, Bella is nowhere to be seen—

Gods, dammit all. I feel like a love-sick puppy.

I refocus on who is here, willing my mind away from pointless thoughts.

Sitting in an ornate bench on the side of the hall is the adorably freckled and bespectacled Cari. She seems completely zoned out, her eyes glazed over as she stares across the room.

She only snaps back to reality when we get within ten paces of her, blinking rapidly as she refocuses on me.

Then she squeals with delight.

She leaps to her feet and rushes me, crashing into me with a hug so tight I worry my ribs might shatter despite my high Constitution. She jumps up and down in excitement, and with my weight reduced by Bloodwind Resilience, she ends up pulling me along with her in every happy bounce.

Selenia looks on with a gentle smile.

I return the embrace, though with significantly more gentleness, and make an effort to hold her in place. It... sort of works.

Then the bench she was sitting on suddenly stands, stretching its wooden legs, and marches to another wall.

That's when Cari finally locks up, staring at the apparently living bench.

I stare too.

“…Did the bench just—” I start, but Selenia interjects swiftly.

“Yes,” she says without so much as looking at the thing. “Another of my husbands experiments. Pay it no mind... and please don’t feed it.”

Cari whispers, “Feed it what?”

“Anything,” Selenia answers cryptically.

Then she claps her hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I will arrange for a guide.”

She steps away smoothly, nothing but the sound of her clicking heels following in her wake.

Cari shakes it off and begins squirming with excitement again. She fails to restrain herself for a moment and buries her face in my chest to muffle her squeals.

I graciously ignore her antics until she manages to gather herself enough to speak.

“I’m enrolled!” she says breathlessly, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “I’m a student at the Elderwynd Academy! The Elderwynd Academy! Me! Enrolled! They gave me a handbook and everything! And a dorm room! And I’m getting a uniform next! And—”

I laugh and give her a little squeeze to interrupt her rambling. “Congratulations, Cari. I’m glad you’re happy.”

She squeals again, squeezing me into another fierce hug before taking a step back and shivering with giddiness.

Selenia returns then, gesturing behind her.

“This is Taruq. He’s a second-year and one of our volunteer Attendants. He'll be the one to take you on a tour of the school grounds today.”

Human Attendant

Level 48

Standing stiffly beside her is a tall man with warm brown skin and broad shoulders that his uniform only half manages to hide. His dark curls are gathered into a loose, poofed ponytail, the sides and back shaved clean to give it a neat, deliberate look.

His black-and-white Academy coat is neatly tailored to his frame, with silver sigils stitched subtly along the collar and cuffs. The white undershirt is unbuttoned around the throat, exposing just enough collarbone to be fashionable, neatly tucked into the black and silver trousers.

Most importantly, though, are the delicate spectacles that lay perched on the bridge of his nose, the lenses catching the overhead light just right.

Combined with the faint scholar’s posture, he looks like every ‘handsome librarian fantasy’ Cari has ever breathlessly described to me during our late-night gossip sessions.

He steps forward and offers a polite, perfectly formal bow.

“It is an honor to meet you both.”

His voice is low, but not gravelly. Smooth.

Cari squeaks.

It’s a tiny, high-pitched noise—one I’ve never heard before. But it’s clear to me that this guy hits every single one of her ‘type’ boxes with terrifying precision.

Her fingers clamp down onto my arm like she’s trying not to levitate out of her own skin.

Her eyes dart from his shoulders to his jawline to his glasses to his soft-spoken smile, and I swear every drop of blood tries to flee her body through her face.

I choke on a laugh and pat her arm.

She’s so doomed.

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