Over time, her condition wavered.

Some days she'd stand up and walk, others I worried she wouldn't move at all.

At this point I was a bit preoccupied with two things:

One, the feeling gnawing on the back of my hand that something was wrong. Run, scream, but why?

Two, I couldn't tell if Alura was getting any better.

Whether or not that old premonition of mine regarded Alura, I wasn't sure. I only hoped I'd find out soon enough (and in retrospect, I did get what I asked for). A rumor began flying around the school shortly after my first few weeks at the tower; two of them concerning me. The rest, Alura.

"She has no dorm", "She has no powers", "She has no hope" fell on the eccentric, but common side. Most commonly, the rumor of death. While the necromancers didn't seem to have an issue with it, they did bombard me with quite a few questions at some time. Even on my first day.

Not because they were worried. They were simply naturally curious about death. Any odd odors, increments, astounding fluctuation of her mental stable or instability was fascinating. While I hardly bothered to gather that sort of information, I found it fun at the time so I played with their imaginations a bit.

I was also self assuring. "She wont die", "Wizards cannot die, Ambrose has made sure of that" were convincing enough in my eyes. The grandmasters in the back laughed at me.

I visit Alura that day to assure myself again. Because when I was down, seeing her and gauging whether or not she was getting better usually did something. Her face was buried in her hands. I knelt down beside her and brushed the hair out of her eyes, unsure of what to say. "..Something wrong?"

She nodded, and looked up at me. She didn't look as though she'd been crying but her aura certainly wasn't atmospheric. "..I received a visit from Ambrose, today."

I almost smiled, but evident worry kept me from doing so. Too soon, it said. "..I see, and did you have a nice chat?"

She chuckled slightly. Almost bitterly. "It was a very nice chat with not-so-nice news."

My heart sunk in my chest and I felt my throat close up a bit, as if I knew what was coming. Regardless, I waited patiently for an explanation. The look on my face must have pained her, because she looked away. Focused on the desk, the ceiling, the paintings, the incense. Anything but me.

"Don't hate me.." she folded her hands in her lap. She was sitting up straight. "..I'm no wizard."

"No wizard..?" I leaned in, as if I hadn't heard her right. "I don't understand. That'd make you a mortal and mortal's absolutely cannot access this world." Was everything a mistake? The enrollment, the sleepless nights, the pain she endured almost immediately upon arrival. Had that all gone to waste?

"No, no.. I come from a long lineage of wizards. The blood is definitely in my veins, but.."

"Blood.. Is that what this is about? Does it not run on your side of the family? What's going on?"

I knew I was being frantic. I couldn't help myself. She chuckled and smiled sadly, avoiding my eyes. "There's nothing to worry about.. I wont burn up for touching sacred ground. Ambrose did not make a mistake.."

"Then.. Then, what's the problem?" I grasped her shoulders gently, dipping my fingertips into the cloth of the short dress I'd bought her a few days prior. "I can teach you, if that's the problem.. I'll do it.."

She shook her head again. "Don't bother yourself. It's not the matter of learning or teaching, it's my ability. My mana.. It's almost nonexistent, they said. And.."

I dipped my hand into her bag and shuffled through it, grabbing her crystal ball by it's head. She looked concern but didn't make any sudden movement or tried to stop me. The blue hue, the bubbles, the number that filtrated through the thick liquid.. It was gone?

"A whisp." I shot up, "I'll bring you a whisp. Every day for the rest of your life, if I have to-"

"Allison.. There's no need to do something like that. Not for me, at least.."

I dug into her shoulders. "This isn't fair. There has to be something,.. Anything I can do, you name it; I'll do it."

"Live for yourself." her smile never faded, "I'd appreciate it if you kept to your classes. I wont ask you to stay forever, but I'd like a visit..an update. I want to hear all about your adventures in other worlds, alright? The people you meet, new spells, new friends.. Everything. And maybe one day if I'm lucky, I'll accompany you."

How is it that I seemed the most distraught? That everything she said to me placed an inexplicable hole torn in the center of my chest? How was it possible that a student dealing in the essence of Death everyday could feel so torn? So cheated?

"Don't do this to me," pleaded a voice in my head. Was it mine? I wasn't sure. "I don't want this. Don't let this happen." But how was I supposed to control the present, the future? Or was it referring to the past?

"Nothing can be done." she admit. "It's time to move forward.."

How was that possible? "I can't." Moving on.. She can't.. be serious?

"'..Once you're here, you can't leave.'" I recited the speech written clearly in my letter of introduction, "Fight for a noble cause", is what they said, but they never mentioned returning. Because it's just not possible, is it?"

She nodded, "I knew that much.. beforehand.."

"You.. didn't mind, did you? Leaving.."

She shook her head and smiled. This time, a bit too brightly. "Not at all.. I guess I just didn't have much to return to at the time. I sorta looked forward to a new world.. A new experience, new things.."

My heart broke for her. This wasn't what she wanted.. No one would have wanted this.

.. This can't be happening, I thought. A greater majority of the students here had their own issues. They said goodbye because they had nothing left to lose, or they weren't much worried for trading it in for a brand new start, or something shinier. Was I much different? No.

We were all going to die here eventually. But so soon..

I grabbed the other ball. Her health. Something had to give..

"..20." I recited the bubbling number, "You're.. That's not fair.."

She held a hand up in front of my face. This was a first. "Know that each one of us accepted the same fate when we were enrolled. Destiny drove us here and destiny dictated that we would not return. No power in the world could send us home.."

"Why?" I dipped my head, staring at the rug. "For whose sake was this rule passed? Yours, mine? The fate of the City..?" I dropped my hands and folded them. I looked as though I were praying, probably. "I'll ask them to send you home.."

She chuckled, "Who are you referring to?"

"Ambrose. The Gods, a God, any God out there."

For a moment, she understood that I was serious. Her smile faded. I was no longer amusing.


-A fact-

A wizard's blood is harmful and acidic after years, months, days of absorbing magic. This makes the spellbinding process easier on our bodies. Can be toxic to mortals. Process cannot be reversed.

Having left the moral world, a wizard may never return.


..How do you know all of this? I'd meant to ask, but refrained. I'd made it a habit to drop books by the tower every so often, and I supposed she read them. That was conceivable, I mean, at least she'd done what I likely never would but-

For someone who had embraced an inevitable death early on at what was meant to be the start of a new advent, she seemed quiet. Comfortably, immorally quiet. She should have at least, screamed, I thought, but that was more of a counter of my own immorality. I hoped she wouldn't take after me.

"Don't be silly." She grabbed her crystal balls and placed them back in her bag. She didn't seem too interested in the number. She pulled a book out; History of Magic. "Take this. I want you to know what I know. This is more your home than mine anyway, so you should at least get familiar with your surroundings. Some of that stuff could come in handy."

My throat hurt. It was only a dull ache at first, but now I was sure somebody was choking me. Two tightly knit hands wrapping around the base of my vocals, squeezing every now and then. Alura must not have seen them, but it showed when my voice faltered and cracked.

Alura was my first friend.


-Vocabulary-

friend

noun

1. a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection

2. rare; not to be lost


I darted out before I humiliated myself any further. I was making a scene between the two of us; I was unveiling a part of myself that I never much cared for. Never gave a thought to, actually.

I'll start with the truth: I was never much for emotion. Be it good, be it bad, I hardly considered myself effected. Directly, at least. And as you can imagine, this made it a bit harder to cope or bond with certain people.. People who were all over that sort of thing, I suppose.

Looking back, I wasn't quite as hollow as I painted myself out to be. At least, my exterior never matched what was on the inside. There were instances that I was so withdrawn, Alura would wonder if I was day dreaming. She called me out on it.. and, while I'll admit that half the time she was right, I don't believe I neither loathed nor appreciated our circumstances.

When had her troubles become mine, I wondered now? Back then, I never gave it a thought. Everything fell into my lap and subsided peacefully, only to jolt me awake with a shake or two. Eventually, realization struck and I collapsed; body and all.

As of now, I was too frantic to imagine that.

Thankful the school of life was directly within my line of sight, I banged on the door. I tugged on the handles. I pushed, I pulled. It wouldn't open. I raised my voice with the intent of calling out, of pleading, but the words resounded an estranged gargle. My voice cracked again.

Don't do this.. not now.. I pleaded with myself.

A fist pounded on the door beside me, only once. With purpose. Startled, I stopped and shut my mouth. I looked on at the man in the darkest garb I'd ever seen. So odd to see it out in the sunlight, but I left myself little room to ponder that. He looked down at me with a heavy gaze. "I'd like to know why you feel so inclined to bother my wife while she's resting."

"Professor.. I-"

"Save your breath." His voice was sharp. I strangled myself. I can't do this right now, but thank you, I'd have liked to say.

I followed quietly while the sympathetic eyes of wizards passing by followed my feet, and my down pointed head. My bangs were long enough to cover my eyes; a simple relief given the fact that I didn't want to cry.

We crossed the boarder between the school of Myth, into his estimated destination. I figured he'd be taking me to detention of some sort. His room was deserted, which almost surprised me given the fact that troublemakers (or students that simply didn't try hard enough) had made their home here.

I took a seat and worried my lip, keeping my face on the book that lay on the table. "History of Magic", I read in my head, fearful of my wavering speech.

He tapped on the wall. It must have given Igor some sort of clue, because he put down the chalk (after ceremoniously writing out what I assumed was tomorrow's lesson). He nodded politely at me. As badly as I felt, I didn't nod back. He left before I could gauge whether or not he felt pity, or knew not of what was going on.

As the antipathy of sitting in here in wait as he determined a fitting punishment settled in, he tapped on my desk and steadily paced around the room. He liked tapping things, apparently.

Nonetheless, he had my attention. I looked up, knowing he wouldn't have accepted any sort of alternation. I looked him in the eye, without wavering.


-A common lesson in necromancy-

1: Bravery


He regarded me with a commonplace frown. "First, an explanation."

He didn't need to elaborate. "I just.. I wanted to speak with Professor..Sylvia..I.."

"Articulate."

My voice raised. That was an accident. "I'd like to speak with Sylvia. It's urgent."

"You have business with my wife. That's fine and all, but in case you're too uncivilized to notice, she's currently dealing with other matters. As such, a locked door should be no surprise to you. Or have you somewhere, somehow forgotten the value of a lock?"

My heart hardened. I swore in my head, over and over. I cursed myself, cursed my professor, cursed this book that stared me in the eye. "..."

He seemed to be at least somewhat satisfied with my response, or perhaps he resolved that I was too thick to speak at the moment. Fed up with his incessant pestering, I raised my voice again. "I've decided on my secondary school and..I'd like to make it something of a hobby as well. I need to learn as much life magic as a necromancer can. I have to."

Though his frown never wavered, I must have done something correctly. He scoffed at my words but that was better than the persecuting jadedness his eyes seemed to harbor whenever they traveled towards the visage of a misfit like me. "I don't recall assigning that sort of thing, nor any sort of extra credit, if that's what you're looking for. If you want to raise your grades, I recommend paying attention every once in a while-"

I wrongfully cut him off, "I have the highest grades in the class, I promise you!" and shut my mouth.

His eyes were challenging. Mine shied away, staring at the board. "Practicing the opposite of courtesy never helped anyone. If you'd like to practice life magic, by all means, give it a try. I can't say that I encourage it,", I had known the professor was never fond of commingling antipathetic schools, which seemed a bit contradicting, given his choice of a wife, "However, you're going to have to take it up with Sylvia and get a training point, if you don't already have one, from the headmaster. Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded, offering a genuine slight grin, despite the recent happenings. This was good news, and this was a start.

I rushed to the door and he tapped on the desk. I looked back and waited; for a moment I thought he'd really keep me for 'detention' a bit longer. Rather, he eyed his staff as his fingers numbly twisted around it. "Tell me why you're suddenly so eager to learn this sort of magic, wont you?"

My heart sunk again as realization kicked in. If I told him.. No, no. It was best not to tell. Not yet.

"Another time." I declared sullenly with a slight, vague smile that faded the instance I ran out the door. I'd try Sylvia the next morning.. and hopefully, I'd keep a cool head by then.


I greeted Sylvia with a smile the next morning, and she looked a bit confused. As if ready to point me in another direction under the assumption I was lost, perhaps?

"Ah, you must be looking for my husband's class.." she turned away, gesturing towards a disorganized desk as if everything suddenly made sense. I shook my head, but her back was turned by then so I had no other choice but to vocalize, "I'm not lost." In fact, even if I were lost, I had chosen precisely an hour before morning classes, just to make sure she had plenty of time for me.

Consequently, I was forced to wake up and visit Alura an hour earlier, but she slept soundly regardless. She seemed to be alright for now, so I rushed across the way and here I was now, eager as I never was.

She turned around and pulled the same expression. This time, with an added forced smile. That was odd, I thought, but figured she must have received a bit of trouble from my type earlier on? Something along those lines.. I guessed..

Whether or not I was correct, she regarded me warmly. "That's fine, then. Come for a visit? Something you'd like to know about your classes? My husband?"

I shook my head and started off nervously. "I.. Ha.. I'd.." Fed up with myself, I silently cleared my throat and faked a cough, reminding myself that I was above this. "I'd like to join your class.. as.. a secondary, if that would be alright. I know it's unorthodox and our schools are natural adversaries where it counts, but.."

She smiled this time, of her own free will, it seemed. She immediately dropped a heavy book she'd been holding on the nearest desk, with a thud so loud, it almost seemed as though the book was relieved. "I'm glad to hear that. Thrilled, really. I love taking on challenging students and from what I've heard from Malistaire, I wont be disappointed, right?" Professor Drake talked about me? Was I meant to take pride in that? Did he take pride in me?

The question seemed to be rhetorical. She flipped through thirty or so pages, gathering loose papers and parchment, and even a pen that had come out of nowhere. "I've never had a necromancer in my class willingly. You see, Malistaire used to send them my way as a sort of joke, or a punishment.." Her voice was lower now, as if she were telling me a secret. Teachers never seemed to understand the privacy rights of being the only two in a single room, closed door nonetheless, "To tell you the truth, they were awful. I nearly throttled him, but what can you do..?"

A book was dropped in my unsuspecting arms and I flinched out of habit. Without pulling the worried look I would have received from anyone else, (the Drake brothers excluded), she turned away and shuffled through an organ of files. Also out of thin air. She pulled a file from it.. A training pass, it seemed, and dropped it on the stack. I clutched it to my chest, and stared with no intention of being rude.

"Everything you'll need is in that book." She pointed at the thick monster in my arms, and regarded the sheets sticking out of it, listing the contents in the order of which they were thrown. "That there is a request for a lectern. Take it to the shopkeeper in the shopping district. Near Elik's edge, you can't miss it." Her finger touched a stack on top of it, "A syllabus. If you have any trouble finding these materials, ask around and I'm sure someone will help. If all else fails, I'm sure I can provide you with something in exchange for an errand or two."

I stumbled a bit on tired legs, (I was never an early bird, mind you) and headed for the door, muttering an exhausted but sincere, "Thank..you, Mrs. Drake..!"