RWBY and all associated characters are creations of Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum, may he rest in piece.

I guarantee no expertise in or even basic, correct knowledge of corporate finance, career retraining, college admissions, the college experience in general, non-traditional students, or going back to school.

I am trying to be as sensitive as possible in regards to portraying depression and anxiety. I'm sorry if I offend because anyone's personal experiences are not mirrored relatably.

-[][][]-

"If I am to be completely honest," Glynda told her career adviser, "I always wanted to be a magical girl."

Cinder blinked and leaned back in chair, "Oh, ok. Wow."

Glynda glanced down. "Is that strange?"

"I think you expect me to say 'yes', because," and Cinder tapped Glynda's resume, "You wouldn't expect to see that from someone with 25 years of experience as a financial analyst. But I promised I'd never be critical of anyone's desired career path, and besides;' Cinder pontificated, "that's not even the weirdest dream job I've heard about."

Glynda looked up. "Really? What is?"

Cinder tapped the side of her nose. "Can't tell you; non-disclosure agreement."

Glynda shrugged. "That's fair."

Cinder leaned back in her chair. "Just out of curiosity; that's a lot different from, well, everything in your past employment history." Cinder pointed looked over Glynda's resume. "If that's always been your dream, then, what kept you in finance for so long?"

Glynda sighed a great big sigh. "Inertia, mostly." It was the best answer she could come up with.

"I hear that. Did you ever actually like finance, or was it just a the career path you never felt, ah, ready to leave?" Cinder pontificated with her free hand as she said the last part.

"I guess I liked it at first," Glynda said, "I liked numbers, I liked seeing trends, I liked that I was good at it, and that I could make a good living in it."

Cinder nodded. "And when did you realize you had to quit?"

"Maybe, five years ago?" Glynda said, "Well, ten, if you mean, when did it start, not being fulfilling. I mean, the feeling's just gotten more intense as the years go by." She gestured to the desk between herself and the career counselor who was supposed to fix her for only 95 bucks an hour and the pamphlets she was given about career burnout and following your passion and junk.

Cinder wrote 'Magical Girl' at the very top of the list of potential careers, above 'nurse practitioner'.

"You're putting that first?" Glynda asked.

Cinder bounced on her shoulders just a bit. "You sounded much more interested in that than any of your other choices, so I figure, why aim for second? I mean, you can always settle, if it doesn't work out."

Glynda was silent and motionless for a few seconds, before she let herself give a nod in affirmation.

Cinder smiled. "So let's start looking at transferable skills- things you've honed through your career that will benefit you in any field- and in particular, a magical girl field." She pulled the sheet of paper in front of her and drew a horizontal line on a blank portion. She turned to her client, ready to begin transcribing.

Glynda blinked, and then she grimaced. "I- ah. I don't, um, think I'd have any, ah, magical-girl related skills- and, I wouldn't want to, waste time pursuing a pipe dream-"

"Well, if it assuages your misgivings; transferable skills can be applied to all sort of careers." Cinder wrote some stuff, "So we'll just keep 'how can this help you be a magical girl' in mind, as well as 'nurse' and 'teacher', you know, the other things you said- "

Glynda nodded, begrudgingly. It did kind of feel like she wasn't taking her career change seriously, but the thought of pursuing her childhood dream appealed to a long dormant part of her psyche.

"Ah," Glynda said. "So, transferable skills….. Um…."

"Finance requires an analytical mind," Cinder said, "Would you agree?"

"Well, yeah-"

"And analyzing situations is a 'strong analytical instinct'..." Cinder wrote that down too.

"I guess, I'm organized?" Glynda said.

Cinder wrote that down.

"And, ah... Um." Glynda said, burning her career advisor's time.

"C'moooon," Cinder said, "There's gotta be more things you're proud of?"

"Ah-" Glynda began. She bit her bottom lip.

"Just one?"

"Um,- I guess I'm comfortable with public speaking?"

"Bingo!" Cinder wrote that down. "You'd be surprised at how many people, aren't."

"Ah." Glynda said.

"Aaaannnndd," Cinder said, glancing over Glynda's recently-revised resume, "You were- are, excuse me- president of your firms LGBTQ Employee Resource Group?"

Glynda winced, "I mean, the title is 'president', but it's not like I have a lot to do except, set out bagels at the meetings, and talk to management about, like, institutional discrimination and stuff…"

"Dont sell yourself short," Cinder said, with a smile, "Or at least, if that really was all you did, don't mention that to potential employers, like, too early in the hiring process. But in general, being an officer in an ERG is worth a lot of things," Cinder started writing, "like, maybe, 'leadership experience', 'communication skills', 'group dynamics'- all good things for a more social field."

Glynda smiled at that. Talking to more people as part of her job sounded nice.

"Also-" Cinder waved a hand, vaugely, "standing up for the oppressed forgotten? A very noble thing to do. I think the magical girl industry would like that."

"Well, I mean, the company was already pretty good about that, so it was less, 'the oppressed and more, 'the people management wasn't inherently prepared to pander to in order to secure brand loyalty'." Glynda sunk into her shoulders some more. "And it didn't really feel like a choice, since I was a part of the people I was, ah, standing up for…"

That wasn't a secret, not really. Like, Glynda never was one of those 'out and proud' types, and she stopped looking upon that missed opportunity with sadness once she started being more concerned with financial stability and worrying about if she ate right and exercised enough.

Cinder looked up and smirked. "Right on, right on. But just because doing a good thing was easy doesn't mean its not a good thing, right?"

Glynda tilted her head, "I guess….

"And, finally," Cinder looked her client in the eyes, "This is a question I ask everyone, since, it helps people think." Cinder paused for dramatic effect, "Why hasn't your job been automated, yet? As in, what unique, human characteristic is necessary for your job?"

Glynda blinked.

"Well, it's- "Glynda said, "Probably automatable, honestly. A lot of what I do, is just, interpreting software results-"

"Ah!" Cinder pointed at her, excitedly, "But the fact that they need a human on that end, means you're essential. But, continue-"

"Analyzing risks," Glynda said, "- though, you already said that- and, making decisions, based around those risks. Knowing what we can afford to spare, and then making decisions about that. That's a job for a human. Because sometimes the choice isn't obvious. And sometimes there's no good choice, but you still have to make a choice."

"That's really good," Cinder said. She wrote some stuff on the page and then turned it around to her client. "Well, that's what I'm finished with- take a look."

Glynda took a breath and stifled the latent sense of vertigo in her chest, and she pulled the piece of paper closer to look it over.

Career Interests:

- Magical Girl

- Nurse Practitioner

- Teacher

- Archaeologist

- Spy

Strengths:

- Analytical mind

- Organized

- Leadership experience

- Communication ability

- Analyzing and balancing Risks,

- Making tough choices

- Positive mindset

"Ummm," Glynda said, "What's this, 'positive mindset'?"

"Well, if you didn't have at least some hope, you wouldn't have come to me in the first place," Cinder said. She waved the air, "And all the companies these days love that. They want their employees to be happy."

Cinder pontificated. "And like, if you're really drained in your current job, then, by default, any switch should be an improvement."

Glynda scrunched her mouth to the side.

Cinder nodded. "And, I'm pretty sure magical girl powers operate under positive emotions, so, bringing that to their field should be a boon."

Cinder's grin faded, and she looked Glynda in the eyes. "But if you're not comfortable saying that, then, don't push it."

Glynda scrunched her mouth to the side, "I, guess I can leave it on there…."

"But yeah, see this?" Cinder gestured to the scrap of paper in Glynda's hand, "This is your pitch for a job in a field you actually enjoy. You're a smart, hard-working, dedicated woman, and you'll definitely be able to land a magical-girl related job."

Glynda blinked at the list again. Save for that last line, surprisingly, it didn't really feel like lying. It was an accurate portrayal of what she considered her strengths- which was better than she'd feared, that she'd have to lie to get a better job because she didn't really have anything she was proud of-

And like, she'd always thought of the realm of magic as unattainably outside her realm, so, it was a nice feeling, to think about it.

But, you have to wake up from dreams eventually.

"Or like, a nursing-related job," Glynda said.

Cinder smirked. "Well, yeah, but agaaaiiin, if you're going to switch careers, might as well aim for your first choice too, right? And if you're not interested in your current job, well, might as well switch to the job that interests you most."

"There'd be one snag with that, though," Glynda said. She grimaced. "I'm not- actually magic."

"Real quick- Personal question, you don't have to answer;" Cinder began. Glynda nodded. "Your surname-"

"Oh. Yeah," Glynda said, "I guess I've got a witch somewhere in my ancestry. It's been a few generations, though, and I haven't manifested any sort of, witch-type genetic signifiers…."

"Alright. I figured I'd ask," Cinder said, "But it's not necessarily a problem. "

Cinder drew a few circles on another piece of paper, "If you wanted to be a Magical girl, well, there's a reason for it- something about it that appeals to you, and that means there's a lot of different avenues to scratching that particular itch. Magical Girls need teachers- also on your list- caretakers- hey, lookit your second choice-, paramilitary support personnel, like, spies- again, lookit- couriers, herbalists," Cinder gestured, "And depending on what about being a Magical Girl appealed to you, you might not even need magic to be able to scratch that itch."

Glynda was silent for a moment, as her career adviser started writing skills in the overlapping parts of the venn-diagram.

Neurons were firing in her head more than she'd had in recent memory -

Old memories, of being a young girl, of being so full of hope -

Of being convinced of her own possibility-

Of being filled with confidence and optimism, in her ability to pursue any of those possible futures-

But specifically, old dreams of fighting monsters, of having a pretty outfit and magical powers and the responsibility to save reality from the forces of darkness-

In short, old dreams that lay to rest for good reasons.

But maybe being close to that would be enough.

"Okay," Glynda said, for her own benefit.

X: The Wheel of Fortune

The next day Glynda went to work again, like she did every weekday and some weekends, continuing to meander listlessly through a job she'd long since lost the nerve to find exciting, the will to make interesting, or the vision to make special.

Like, every day was a thought exercise in how she could avoid talking to people, put off work, and generally laze around before finally breaking down and letting rote experience and panic adrenaline finish her day's tasks before the deadline.

But she was good at it, was the thing. She was the most senior member in the company and she could file expense reports from a template and she had pre-filled the majority of their software's settings like six years ago, and even then she could intuit the result of most analysis before the actual algorithms finished them (but that was just because the actual variation in most of their clients was quote small and typically fell within a narrow range), and she even had the 'motivate the newbie' speeches on auto-call whenever their newest hire needed some help in the metaphysical department. Like, she could get away with half assing everything, so there was no reason not to.

So, of course, when her phone rang, Glynda made it a habit to answer it. Even if it was a telemarketer, the 30 seconds it took to hang up without saying anything were 30 seconds away from the monotony of signing off on expense reports for an hour and then secretly browsing the internet for the rest of the day.

Today, though, it was a call from someone in her contacts, and those always promised at least a three minute reprieve and some good news.

Glynda picked up her phone. "Hello?"

"Heeey Glynders," said her career adviser, and she didn't even wait for Glynda to respond before continuing: "You know, I always tell people that there's always other ways to live their dream job. Like, if you want to be a doctor, but you're 35 and you don't have 12 years and $200,000 to burn, you can still be an EMT with a little career-retraining-"

"Ooookaaay," Glynda said, "Was this going anywhere?"

"Well, let me ask you- how much have you looked into all the non-magical girl stuff on your list?"

"I mean, I did look into maybe being a nurse's aide, " Glynda lied- well, technically it was true in that she'd looked up 'skills necessary for a nurse's aide' into Google, but like, she didn't even click any of the links.

"Hey, good for you! If any of that pans out, lemme know and I'll help you for the interview," Cinder said, "But I wanted to let you know that, I made some inquiries, and there's someone from Beacon who would be willing to meet with you for a potential position on their staff." Cinder paused, and resumed a little more breathlessly, "But also, because it turns out, there's no maximum age for enrollment in Magical Girl school."

Glynda stopped everything, including, for a half a second, her heart. "But- I've never heard of anyone – ah, - not right out of high school going to Magical Girl school. "

"You would be the first, as far as Beacon goes," said Cinder. "But a lot of adults are going back to school these days. They're called 'non traditional students'- so in general, you're not doing anything too out of the way."

Beacon was the premier Magical Girl academy on this half of the continent. There wasn't much demand for a magical girl institutions of higher learning in the first place, and Beacon had kept the fatality rate low enough compared to most other Schools that even people closer to other schools just stopped sending their kids to the Miskatonic or to Shangri-la.

"Ah-" Glynda said.

And again, Glynda found herself retreading the cemetery of old dreams- for the second time this week she ran through the one of fighting Grimmspawn, of having a fancy outfit beset with lace and bows, and of her own magical powers, and of her ability to fulfill the responsibility to save reality from the forces of darkness-

But of course, that dream was dead for a reason.

"I-" Glynda grimaced, "I don't know if id be comfortable, going for that…."

"Okay, fair enough," Cinder said, not skipping a beat, "But hear me out: you meet with the guy, and you tell him you want to be a magical girl-"

Glynda's mouth reflexively curled in on itself.

"And then, when that seems like too much, ask if they could use someone else in the administration. Maybe they need another accountant to justify hiking up tuition-"

Glynda snorted.

"-buuuuttt you said you wanted out of finance, so, maybe they need a nurse's assistant, or courier." Cinder said, "Or, maybe even, recontextualizing your work in financial laws will make it seem more meaningful?

"Euughhh…" Glynda couldn't stop herself from emitting.

"Hey, no worries! Just, this is one of the avenues. And you don't have to lie about wanting to join the school, if you're not comfortable doing it.

Well, the thing is, she wouldn't be lying if she said, she wanted to actually enroll in the school.

But the old dreams of fighting mon-

Bluh. Fricken. She needed to focus-

If it was just to get a leg in, well, Glynda could probably manage it.

"Okay," Glynda said, the culmination of all her thoughts, all the wandered memories, all the conquered misgivings, "I'll, give it a shot."

"Awesome! So I'mma send you the contact info for someone with the university- he might have some leads for you to follow up on, and he can answer any questions you might have, about anything! Though specifically, about the school and the staff positions."

-OOO-

So Cinder made an e-introduction, and Glynda found herself writing what was simultaneously the easiest and hardest email she'd remembered writing. Easy, since, well, she could just tell the truth, and she didn't have any high hopes. Hard because, well, it was a little embarrassing, on an existential level and the only way she was able to hit the 'send' button ten minutes before the socially acceptable 24 hours you could wait before replying to an email was up, was by closing her eyes and psyching herself up, convincing herself for a second that embarrassment wasn't real.

(And of course, right after the thirty second leeway the unsend plugin allowed was past, Glynda realized she hadn't finished the second sentence in the opening paragraph. Because she'd been too busy sighing in relief to double check it.)

But it seemed that the dean either didn't notice or had managed to infer what Glynda meant in that half-sentence describing her background, because a short e-mail chain later, Glynda freed her schedule for the earliest time Ozpin said he was available.

-OOO-

And about 15 minutes before said time, Glynda arrived at some sort of witch-themed coffee shop, giving herself two deep breaths and an internal chant before opening the door. It swooshed, and a bell dinged.

And Glynda awkwardly walked through to the far side of the room where a barista stood at a counter with a set of elaborate, delectable sweets (magic sweets, it made sure to say, but only cosmetic and flavor magics- like the technicolor frosting on the cupcakes, or the bear claws that flexed once you picked them up.)

"Um, hello!" squeaked a young girl, in a witch costume (or, since the cafe was near enough to Beacon, Glynda supposed it wasn't unreasonable to assume that perhaps this girl was literally a witch. Or at least a witch in training.) "W-what can I get you?"

Glynda scrunched her mouth to the side, "A little nervous, are you?"

"Ah-" The witch glanced at the ground, for two second, "Just, just a little…."

And then she coughed, and adjusted her glasses, as she considered that, maybe what she just did counted as flirting, and she reminded herself to not be a creep to college girls.

Glynda eyed a menu written in chalk and accompanied by cutesy little witch-themed doodles. She decided the aesthetic was nice, even though Glynda was more partial to the 'armor plate and swords' sub-aesthetic of magical girldom.

And she ordered an 'Expresto Perfictiendi', whose latte art changed every time you drank a quarter of the cup.

Glynda's nerves caused her to cycle past the cat to the witch hat to the cauldron before she realized at this rate she'd have to order three more drinks to pass time before Ozpin said he'd be here, and that would probably be really bad for her bladder.

And it was a shame because she didn't really get a good look at the witch hat art...

Eventually the door opened with a swoosh and the ding of a bell, and a man with grey hair and glasses and a cane (clean-shaven, though, because the wizened-beard look for Mysterious Old Wizards), and dressed in a two-tailed waistcoat and a ruffled shirt. He approached the far side of the shop, at the counter were the barista stood behind a register and a collection of sweets, and he placed his order.

And then he turned to Glynda, and waved, smiling in the way Mysterious Old Wizards tended to do.

Glynda blinked, before she remembered to smile and stand up an wave back- but at first she tried to do all three at the same time- and that was just a mess-

But, luckily, it seemed that the man had turned away to accept his drink order, at that time, so Glynda's awkward dance went unnoticed.

And Glynda sat back down and mentally rehearsed her pitch- a brief summary of her life, and the most sympathetic reason she was looking into Magical Girl school, and the transferable skills Cinder had figured out for her-

"You must be Glynda Goodwitch," Said the man. He took took a seat opposite of Glynda.

"Oh- yes-" Glynda coughed, "That's me."

"And do you know who I am?"

"You would be Ozpin," said Glynda. "Oscar Zoraster Phaedric Isacc Nathanial."

"That's right." said the old man, and he smiled again,"So, you want to attend my school."

"Ah, yes- I mean! Not as a student-," Glynda coughed, "I mean- I was told to talk to you about being, maybe, some kind of, um. Financial...assistant?"

Ozpin looked at her with a bemused look.

"Is that, really what you want?"

Glynda glanced at her coffee, and the rapidly fading enchantment on the latte art.

And before her brain went down it's familiar stroll down the ruins of her childhood dreams, Glynda tried to change the subject.

"Ah, I didn't realize you owned Beacon-"

"Well," Ozpin said. He leaned back, "Technically, the Board owns the school. But I'm the Dean of Wands, so I have a stake over a large part of the school."

He smiled again, and from up close, Glynda could see the wizard's eyes twinkle as he did, "But who can resist an opening line like that?"

"Ah-" Glynda said. "I, suppose theatricality is a big deal?"

Ozpin leaned back again, "I started out as a Charlatan, before actually learning magic from some of my witch friends. So you could say 'theatrically' was an early interest of mine- though honestly...-" He leaned forward again. "I sense, that you don't really want to merely be a financial assistant."

"W- well, I guess I, would really love to attend your school," Glynda said. She glanced down at her coffee order. "But, you know it's impossible."

Ozpin's mouth turned into a wry grin. "Do I?"

"I, ah- Well, for one, I don't have any magic," Glynda stuttered.

"You mean, 'you don't have any magic yet'." Ozpin smirked. "I didn't have any either, when I started."

"Yeah, but, you had magic potential." Glynda said, "They, tested me for that, and I don't."

Ozpin simultaneously nodded and shrugged. "Some of our magical girls aren't actually magic when they attend, because the real magic… is friendship ."

Glynda wondered if that was a joke.

"So, I'll tell you that you shouldn't worry either," he said, with the gravitas of a mysterious old wizard, "As long as you have the heart for it."

"But-" Glynda interjected, before she caught herself and lowered her voice, "There's the other elephant in the room."

"Oh, those elephants," Ozpin said. He waved the air.

Glynda chuckled. "I- um. I'm old."

"You're not that old," Ozpin said, "You know, the Baba Yaga has lived almost a millennia, by now."

Glynda blinked, "Ah, but, she's not a magical girl….

Ozpin looked into the distant horizon at the bottom of his teacup. "You know, we've slowly been expanding the admittance to our school. Ever since we absorbed the Hero school and started our exchange program with the Miskatonic, we've been seeing that it takes all sorts of people to beat back the eternal onslaught of darkness."

"Soo," Glynda ventured, "You'd be open to, a um, a non-traditional student at your institution?"

Ozpin took a long sip of tea. "A philosophical question for you," he said, "Why would we send children to fight horrors spawned by humanity's darkest impulses?"

Glynda, hadn't actually considered that, before.

"Because facing fear is a part of coming of age?" Glynda ventured.

"That certainly makes a kind of sense," Ozpin said, "But the official answer is; our fears only grow worse as we get older."

"That-" Glynda said, "Also certainly makes a kind of sense."

Ozpin chuckled. "Hence why it is our official answer." He leaned back. "Not to say that I don't believe it. I do indeed find that children fare best against the minions of fear and despair, and adults against more human adversaries- criminals, but also vampires and ghosts and such-, but the reverse also seems true." He took a sip of his tea and looked at Glynda portentously.

Glynda cleared her throat. "So what you're saying is- you'd be concerned for my well being."

Ozpin inhaled and swirled his tea. "I sense that, you never feel like life did right by you."

Glynda almost managed to keep her poker face. "Ah, you, think so?"

The mysterious old wizard continued undaunted. "- but it gave you enough stability and just enough happiness over the years, that you feel guilty about thinking that live did not do right by you."

Glynda opened and closed her mouth, before she looked back into the melted remains of her own drink at the bottom of her coffee mug. "...How did you know?"

"Because all adults feel that way," Ozpin said. "Regret, guilt, and fear, just accumulate. And that's what the darkspawn feed off of, and it's why they are so dangerous to society. And why we need Magical Girls."

"O-oh, okay." Glynda said. It was what she expected, but it still was a bit of a bummer. Well, at least now she could get some semblance of closure-

"And let me ask you," Ozpin said, "Do you feel consumed by your regret and your fear?"

"I- well, no," Glynda said. "I learned to just, deal with it."

"'Just' deal with it?" Ozpin said, again, pointedly.

Glynda felt like she was failing a test. "Well, to cope, and to, like, overcome it, too...?"

"Is that so?" Ozpin said.

"I-" Glynda said. Then she had a revelation. "So, you're saying, you don't believe that fear gets worse as we get older?"

"Well, as to what I'm saying; right now," Ozpin idly pontificated with his right hand, "I am saying that I think it's worth at least testing. And we'd be lucky to have such a qualified individual for the trail."

And Glynda's brain clicked. "I- you want me to apply to your school?"

And she couldn't stop the jaunt through weathered dreams, this time.

The dream had died in stages:

First when she was eight, and she discovered she had no latent magic abilities.

The second when she was a second year in high school, when she got automatically rejected on the basis of not being magic.

And finally, when she had locked into her finance degree, sophomore year of undergrad, and she told herself she'd prefer something that made good money-

Or maybe that lest step was the slow death wail, over the years, as she got a promising internship and then a stable job and then more and more career accolades until any other life path was just a daydream of a different life-

But now that dream was being rebirthed, and- well, Glynda supposed, it wasn't like, she had anything better to do than pursue that lead. Or perhaps she was just so jaded that she could only imagine pursuing that dream with a liberal dose of detached irony- but that was still a form of progress, right?

Ozpin looked her in the eyes. "If you still want to."

"I- okay," Glynda said. Then she nodded. "I do."

So she had hope, then, and that was the most important part of being a magical girl, right?

-OOO-

Ozpin had offered to vouch for her during the admissions process, but that still meant that Glynda had to go through the actual process of applying to Beacon.

There was an entrance exam to take, and if she passed, with Ozpin's recommendation, there was a chance they wouldn't reject Glynda outright.

So she arranged time off, at her work, to do some last-week cramming to improve that chance of not being rejected outright.

The HR office at her accounting firm was a small affair, where the rep was inundated with paperwork. That usually wasn't the case, since hiring was slow and the Women's, Immigrant's, POC and LGBTQ employee resource groups managed to address complaints from their respective employees without going through corporate arbitration, but the company was switching its health insurance provider to one that would cover maintenance costs for alchemagical prosthesis, and that turned out to mean a whole lot of paperwork.

As far as she had friends at her workplace, Glynda considered James her best one. Not that he was competing with anyone else, though. Not that that meant Glynda had gotten any kind of big friendship moment with James, like you were supposed to. It was just, he was a regular member at the ERG she was technically president of, organized events for, developed workplace protocols with, and, occasionally, participated in.

"So you're finally using your vacation days, huh? Good for you!" said the HR manager, after Glynda handed him her paperwork. "You're one of- actually, I'd wager there to be a fair chance that you are our most hardworking employee, in terms of days spent here per quarter."

Glynda rubbed the back of her head. Talk about being damned with praise. It wasn't like she had anything better to do than mewl about here.

And the worst part of it was, she still had a sense of pride, in how she spent so much of her life in an emotionally draining job, forcing herself to show up for long enough that guilt made her do work.

"Aha, not quite-." Glynda aid. "I'm, um. I'm going to use that week to study for a test to see if I can go back to school."

Glynda worried that, even as long as she had known James, that he might judge her. Well, that most of her co-workers would judge her, really, but they were largely irrelevant to her life.

James leaned back. "You've been working here longer than I have, so if you're looking for a change, I say go for it. And better sooner than later- not that it's ever too late! Aha…." James said. He coughed.

"Because I'm getting old," Glynda deadpanned.

"I didn't mean it that way," James said, "I mean, I heard it as I was saying it, but originally I meant that, we'd rather you go out while you're still going strong, rather than waiting until you get burnt-out."

And Glynda caught the meaning in Jame's voice. "Oh, am, I getting burnt out?"

"You seem tired," James said, "And I think that's understandable. But, that means that if you're looking to make a change, then I think you should."

"And this isn't because you just want my position as President of the queer ERG here?"

James laughed, at that, which surprised Glynda a little.

"Nah, I'll let the new girl have that," he said. "It seems like a lot of work."

Glynda decided not to disabuse him of that notion.

So in what seemed like a comically out of place throwback to her university days, Glynda prepared her apartment's desk to the optimal configuration for studying, for a week of cramming.

Turned out, having a lifelong interest in the subject meant she knew a lot of the material already. And, of course, being genuinely interested in the subject matter meant that it was actually fun, to try to absorb information about the 8 schools of hermetic magic, the history of Magical girl organizations, the known enemies of the Light, and, of course, the useless trivia that nonetheless got incorporated into the broader cultural understanding of the institution.

And on her third day of her ultimate study session, she had a visitor.

Glynda blinked, when she heard the doorbell ring. It'd been a while since she heard that.

When she stood up, her muscles were shaky from disuse because, wow, she had managed to sit still for like 48 of the last 72 hours.

Glynda checked her face in a wall mirror to see if she was presentable (she wasn't, but it took her two seconds to decide she didn't care) and she opened the door.

"Oh, hey James," Glynda said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Hello," said James, "Busy studying?"

"Yeah, actually," Glynda said. "What, did you think I wasn't serious?"

"I- uh, meant to say- uh," James began. Then he coughed. "Alright, I was just uncreative with my platitudes. I did think you were serious, which is why-" He hefted a grocery bag with his non-prosthetic arm, "I just wanted to drop off a care package."

"Oh," Glynda said .She remembered to smile as she accepted the grocery bag. "Okay, thank you!"

"Mostly some energy bars and some Gatorade," he said, "You know to keep your hydration up and your blood sugar steady."

Glynda enjoyed a few minutes of small talk with her only workplace friend.

And Glynda felt refreshed, when she sat back down at her desk, and it wasn't just because she was newly fed and hydrated.

She checked her phone to set a time- and, it turned out she had a text, from someone in her contacts list.

- Yoooo Glynders. Good luck with stuffing information into your head!

Glynda let herself smile.

Thanks, Cinder. Now, don't interrupt me. Im studying. -

-OOO-

And then it was the moment of truth.

Glynda took the day off, and around noon she drove to a government building on a sleepy Tuesday, where they confiscated her Swiss-army knife and keychain at the door to a sealed room that smelled vaguely of dust and lethargy.

Glynda sat down at a desk with wooden dividers and an old computer, and she read the legal disclaimers and the test instructions and she pulled out her pencil and scratch piece of paper that were standard for all entrance examinations, even though most of this was just standard high-school level problem solving skills and memorization of history.

Since Glynda had gotten there early, the clerk let her start the test early.

She was one of four people would would end up take the test that day- she tried not to mind that the other three girls looked, just, super young. Maybe they were shooting her glances, or maybe they just assumed the office had double-booked the testing room for, like, replicant screening or something.

Glynda finished in 85 minutes- they were allotted three hours. When the final screen came up, she froze-

Because, that was really early.

And since she had gotten here early, that meant she was going to leave just half an hour after the test was scheduled to start, but that was actually not important why was she thinking about that-

Like, maybe she had missed a section?

The written portion was taken in the first thirty minutes and she couldn't go back to it, but she had used that whole half hour and she was rather proud of her take on having to overcome fear (cause, maybe Ozpin's speech had inspired her a bit)-

So Glynda skimmed through the parts of the test she did have access to, double checking all her multiple choice answers, rereading questions trying to find ambiguity.

And that took a lot less time than when she first went though, because she knew the obviously wrong choices and didn't have to bother reading them-

But maybe she'd just read the whole thing one more time, because they little timer in the bottom right corner of the screen still told her she had more than an hour-

And after that-

She had to conclude that, no, she actually did it all correctly, to the best of her knowledge.

So, maybe that meant she was missing something important?

But Glynda couldn't find anything wrong, so, she hit 'submit', and she wobbled out of the testing facilities with an inexplicable feeling of dread nestled into her abdomen.

-OOO-

The next few days, Glynda went through the motions of her job in a sort of daze. A neutral sort of daze, she figured, because there was some sort of, giddiness counterbalancing the tedium of her job.

-OOO-

And the day all the test results were to be posted, Glynda found herself agreeing to get drinks with her HR manager and the career advisor she'd somehow befriended in the intervening weeks.

They met in a classy bar where the lights were deliberately dusty and the furniture was aged mahogany and the seats were real leather.

Glynda was hunched in a corner booth with James and Cinder to either side of her, as they two of them got to know each other. At first, they tried to make small talk with her, but then they got the hint that Glynda preferred to stew in apprehension.

Right now, Glynda had her phone out. She was staring at the digital clock, trying to guess exactly when the minutes would tick up, even though she could just change the app settings to show the seconds.

"C'mon, Glynders," Cinder said, "You probably did fine. You said you looked over your answers and nothing looked incorrect?"

"From my experience," James said, "the aptitude test is a formality, mostly to make sure you're minimally qualified, so the school can get federal funding. Most students pass it."

"And even then ," Cinder said. She patted Glynda's shoulder, "You've honed your mind way more than a bunch of random high-schoolers."

"Hey, my daughter's one of those randos," James said. Then he sighed. "But, you're, right..."

"Yeah…." Glynda said. She continued to stare at her phone.

And hey, she was only three heartbeats off from guessing when it would hit 9:32.

Cinder and James took shots, and were becoming fast friends. The two were potentially related.

And Glynda joined them, for the first round, it helped kill 5 minutes, but it made her time guessing even worse.

And then it was 10:00 PM.

Glynda pulled up the testing site on her phone. It loaded instantly since it was still cached, and she had memorized her password, so she didn't even need to check the sticky note in her wallet to log in and check her score-

And she blinked.

And she dropped her phone and slumped backward and rubbed her eyes a couple times.

And then Glynda let all the air out of her lungs.

"What did you get-" Cinder said, leaning over to see Glynda's abandoned phone, "398? Out of what?"

Glynda didn't answer. She just tilted her head back down to stare at the number, as her head rang, and her chest convulsed, almost imperceptibly.

"400," James said.

And Glynda let her laugh become audible.

"Ah- ahahaha~" She laughed and exhaled at the same time, and she leaned back

James patted Glynda's right shoulder. "Good work! We knew you had it in you."

"And you were worried~," Cinder teased.

And Glynda flopped her torso forward and she ran her right hand over her eye and up through the front and top of her hair and she let the manic laughs escape until she could talk normally.

"Oh my Godoka, I thought I was going to throw up," Glynda inhaled real quick and then exhaled, though her mouth. "Ah~"

"I would say that might be the alcohol talking," Cinder said .She filled a tumbler and slid it in front of Glynda, "But you haven't had nearly enough to make yourself sick." Cinder smirked, and she pointed "Yet."

"A toast, then," James said. He held his glass out, "To Beacon's newest student!"

"Oh, it's way too early for that," Glynda said, "I need to finish my application, and get my recommendations- "

"Yeah, I'll get right on that-" James said.

"After we celebrate!" Cinder said, "C'mon, a milestone is a milestone, and you cleared a particularly tedious one."

Glynda had to agree to that, and she also had to agree to shots.

-OOO-

The next step in the process of completely reforming Glynda's life, was to formally apply to the academy-

But since since she was outside the regular qualifications and would be automatically rejected by the system's blind criteria checker, and the traditional application period was over, all that took was a quick email to Ozpin, with a link where he could view her official records.

And after that, well, Ozpin managed to secure Glynda a – well, not quite an interview, but, a period of petitioning before the leaders of the school, which was the last step to being admitted. Like, a testimony before a panel of judges. Harrowing, but also the most straightforward path to getting in.

-OOO-

So Glynda took one more vacation day, to head over one sunny Tuesday afternoon to Beacon's campus - a place she'd seen once, as a hopeful child, and then never thought she'd ever have reason to return to.

It'd been renovated since then; there was a better lawn, and a wholly new campus area with a different architectural style, since they had bought out a neighboring apartment complex and a gas station, but the main building was unchanged from what it looked like in Glynda's memories from almost 30 years ago (And, probably, since it was built, 300 years ago).

Glynda was early, again, and she was rehearsing her pitch, and the interview skills Cinder had prepped for her at their last session.

And James let her in on some Hiring Manager secrets- like, if they ask you a personality question, it's because they want to see you think on your feet, not because they care about your personality. (Though with magical girls, perhaps they did, so, just keep second-guessing yourself…)

Glynda's phone buzzed, and then buzzed again, since she was getting a call. It was Cinder's number. Glynda answered.

"He~ey champ, how's it going?" Cinder said, "You nervous?"

"A little," Glynda said. Honestly, this was the most nerve-wracking thing she could possibly think of. Her whole future depended on impressing 5 authority figures, and she thought by this time in her life she would be done needing to do that.

"Don't be. Fear is the mind killer," Cinder stated, ominously.

"Well, Ozpin said they'd be looking for reasons to fail me," Glynda said, "So like, I have to be perfect-"

"Well he also said they'd also be looking for reasons to give you a shot," Cinder said, "And they're more likely to give a shot to a person rather than a robot, so prioritize less on 'giving the right answer' and more on being yourself. But like, be the you you always want to be too, right?"

Cinder exhaled, and was silent for a moment. "So full disclosure- you wanna know how I know Ozpin?"

"I- I guess I just figured you'd met him during the regular course of your duties as a career adviser."

"Well, yeah, a few times, but actually. Um. You know Headmistress Salem?"

"Well, not in person," Glynda said, "not for another- fifteen minutes, at least-"

"She's my. Uh. She's my grandma…."

Glynda blinked. "Huh."

"Heh. So, if she tries to intimidate you or something, just remember that, one time, she thought that fax machines were dark magic and she tried to link her soul to my mom's fax machine, all in order to print a flyer."

Glynda involuntarily chuckled. That did actually help a bit.

And her appointment time came, and Glynda stepped through the door-

It was, quite possibly, the most harrowing moment of Glynda's life. But when she stepped back out of the building, her brain remembered that they said yes.

I: The Magician

And- this was it, right?

This was the dream resurrected- an old dream, of fighting monsters and pretty outfits and-

"Ms. Goodwitch," intoned a woman.

Glynda flinched. She turned around, where the headmistress of Beacon had appeared.

From up close, Salem was exactly as scary as befitting her reputation as a transfer from the Miskatonic, and also from that whole harrowing ordeal that Glynda's brain was slowly internalizing as having actually happened.

"Ah, it's, 'Mz.', actually-" Glynda said, reflexively.

"Every so often, I am proven wrong," the ancient witch intoned, seemingly not caring about standard conversation etiquette like not sneaking up on people, or making too much eye contact. "So I hope for your sake, this is one of those times."

Glynda forced a smile. Yeah, that, was kind of what she figured Salem was getting at, during the panel.

"Passion is not a substitute for ability." Salem intoned, "And wanting something does not make you deserve to receive it."

"Ah-" Glynda refreshed her smile.

"And the purpose of our school is not to provide wish fulfillment to any mediocre girl with delusions of grandeur."

Glynda didn't manage to even try to say anything to that, because, how could she?

"It is to train those who would be a bastion for our very civilization. This is a dangerous profession. So for your sake," Salem turned away, "I hope you know what you're getting into."

And a nested ring of cyclopean runes radially effervesced from Salem's left hand, and a portal of eldritch light enveloped the old witch, and she was gone.

"Well, that was a little unnecessary," Glynda said, aloud, for herself.

-OOO-

And after that, well, there was just one more little thing to do, to completely upend her life.

James handled most of the arrangements for her quitting her job, (and he also gave her the contact info for his adopted daughter.)

And in the next six weeks (since for some reason Glynda decided to keep working right up until the semester started), Glynda finalized her work as much as possible, and documented the stuff she couldn't finish-

And suddenly, during one particularly tricky part, she had a realization:

None of this was her problem anymore.

Finalizing the accounts for – you know, who even cares anymore? - didn't actually matter. None of this would be her problem if she, like, took a little longer or flubbed some estimations or didn't finish some sentences.

But like, she was a professional, so she did them anyway.

Because this was the last time she'd ever do this.

And that also meant, that, like, she could have a little fun with it. Put a couple wry comments in the document. Type in a less efficient but sillier manner. Stuff like that.

But just knowing that this was the last time she'd do this accounts report, it became a lot easier, and for the first time in years, Glynda found herself enjoying her job.

-OOO-

And on her last day, they threw her a party.

It was a bit of a haze. There were decorations. There was cake. It was strawberry flavored.

There were a few goodbyes from people whose names she actually remembered, during the party, but two hours later, couldn't anymore.

And people she didn't know all that too well gave her uncomfortably emotional farewells.

And people she felt she probably should have known better (like, their newest hire, a young woman who might have found a mentor useful), but Glynda supposed that going down one path meant closing off another.

The company president presented her with a bouquet of flowers that Glynda tucked into her elbow as she took the subway home.

And Glynda returned to her apartment-

and she collapsed on her bed, and she let exhausted tears finally leave her eyes in idle rivulets into her pillow.

-OOO-

And the next day, Glynda awoke to a knock on her apartment door. The second in what seemed like a while.

It was Cinder, there to help her pack.

"Oooo," Cinder said, as she wandered into the section of Glynda's apartment that counted as the living room. "This is very nicely spartan."

"Well, I, ah, didn't, really have anything I wanted to buy, over the years…." Glynda said. She breathed. "I mostly saved my money, hoping to find something that might make me happy, and-" Glynda chuckled, "Well, I guess a second college tuition might have been it."

"Soooo, I've seen the dorms over there- not yours in particular, since Usugi hall wasn't built last time I visited-" Cinder said, "But you miiiight be able to fit all of this, under a loft?"

"Well, I need somewhere to live when school's not in session," Glynda said, "So I'm keeping the apartment. I don't need to pack everything." She gestured to four cardboard boxes in the corner.

"Seems prudent," Cinder said. She chuckled, awkwardly, "I mean, it's still wise to have a fallback, even when you know you're set, right?"

"Ah-" Glynda said, and something in her gut felt weird.

-OOO-

And a short drive later, Glynda secured a parking spot at a grocery store nearby her new college dorm, since that was what freshmen were supposed to do (And wasn't that a weird thought? That Glynda was once again, 30 years after graduating High School, a a freshmen?)

"It's kind of empty," Cinder said, as she looked around the campus, hauling a rolling suitcase. "Wasn't orientation tomorrow?"

"Well, it's lunchtime? Maybe that's where everyone is," Glynda said.

"Or maybe your entire hall procrastinated on moving in?" Cinder supposed.

Glynda looked at the other doorways in her hall.

Some had dry erase boards with platitudes written on them.

One had a poster of what appeared to be a children's cartoon about ancient mythology.

An expensive looking iron shield with Germanic runes.

One was decked out in actual flowers, but like, with black detailing, possibly magical in origin.

"Given that the rest of the hall is decorated, I think that's unlikely, " Glynda said.

"Oooo, this looks nice," Cinder said, and she looked around Glynda's dorm room. "I guess you shelled out for a single, huh?"

"Well, yeah-" Glynda said, "I, ah. Having a roommate again, didn't, really appeal to me…"

"And you're here to learn, not, get in drunken arguments about laundry, haha!" Cinder said.

"Y-yeah, that too," Glynda said.

There was a single, adjustable bed- that was currently adjusted a little too high, but which was probably because this way the dresser could squeeze under it-

There was a mini fridge and a desk and a bookshelf nailed to an inconvenient part of the wall, and a closet, which had a lateral bar with five coat hangers that were stuck inside it.

Glynda pulled the dresser out so she could adjust the bed to be comfortably lower, while Cinder borrowed Glynda's key card to start pulling in boxes.

Honestly, Cinder took in most of Glynda's stuff. Cinder didn't let Glynda apologize for it, and after a quick hug goodbye before she went off to the bus stop, it was up to Glynda to unpack.

The bedding was an obvious choice for first amenities. When Glynda went to the mall to take advantage of the back to school sale, she, ah, just couldn't resist buying a bedsheet and pillowcase set of one of the more media-minded magical girls.

She unpacked her books and placed the ones that could fit on the bookshelf, and the rest on a pile on her desk- not just the textbooks, but also the ones she'd been hoarding for years; the treatises on the philosophy of magical girls, the histories and memoirs of popular teams, and even some of the fictional representations that might actually have originally been agenda-driven propaganda and/or commercialism but had been inspiring in their own right.

Her personal decorations were mostly astronomy themed, but the mall had a set of tiara-symboled items she couldn't help buying.

So last, but potentially the most visible, she put a little tiara bauble on the outside of her door, so that people would know she had arrived and had a decorative tchotchke to associate with her.

And then, once she had exhausted her nervous energy, Glynda flopped onto her bed.

Then this was it, wasn't it?

That dead dream rekindled-

Fighting monsters. Pretty outfits. Camaraderie, hope, possibly.

Glynda breathed in.

Just, this, was just so impossible.

And she had done it.

It, would probably feel real in a bit, right?

Glynda exhaled, and some moisture left her eyes as she did.

This was real.

This was real.

This-

-OOO-

Glynda awoke to a knock at her door.

She blinked a few times and fumbled for her glasses and she turned on her dorm light and opened her dorm door, hoping she looked presentable.

There was a young girl, with white hair and a a white dress and pale skin- probably someone with snow powers, or possibly, just, an albino- and was that rude to point out or-

"Hello- oh, " said the girl. She refreshed her sheer smile and her posture shifted from friendly to formal. Like, the kind of formal when you're talking to someone you assumed was an authority figure.

"Sorry, I didn't think teachers stayed in the dorms- we were seeing if the students wanted to hang out in the halls before the big day tomorrow and we saw your door finally had something on it so we assumed someone moved in-"

Glynda hesitated just a moment.

"I'm, a student," she said. It- it was was gradually sounding more and more true, to herself.

"You... are?" said the girl.

Glynda coughed. "Yeah. A, uh, nontraditional student..."

The girl blinked. "They, have those for, magical girls?"

Glynda coughed again. "They do now."

The girl blinked, and then she stood up straight again. "I guess it takes all sorts."

Glynda refreshed her own smile. "Ah."

"So- ja -, "She gestured to her right Glynda's left, "We are, sitting out in the hall, if- if you want to join us? I think Reese brought out a deck of cards and… yes…." The girl nodded.

Glynda leaned out of the door frame and saw that the rest of her hallmates, sitting against opposite walls in the center of the hallway.

Glynda refreshed her smile. "I will be right out."

And Glynda fixed up her hair and made sure her shirt was the right combination of casual but serious, and she took one last breath as she stepped out into the hallway-

And a ripple of silence washed through the group of other freshmen as they all turned to look at Glynda as she approached the outer edge of the social gathering.

"Ah, hello?" said Glynda.

The pale girl sat down in an open spot in the middle of the group, next to a dark-skinned girl with a wild mop of blond hair who whispered something in her ear. The pale girl was less adept at whispering, though. "- she said she was a student, and you were the one who wanted us to get to know each other-"

But before Glynda could just, implode with awkwardness, it turned out that the break in silence motivated every other student to resume whatever they were doing too, so, it was slightly less soul-crushingly awkward.

And at first Glynda figured it was fine- it's like, they were already doing things and they wouldn't go out of their way to stop them just to talk to her-

They would people would avoid eye contact, but not so much that it, like, didn't happen in the first place- rather it was, that they would accidentally lock eyes and they'd make these forced smiles with no teeth that stretched a little too far over their mouths for like two seconds as they nodded before sharply looking away-

"Ah, i heard, someone had a deck of cards?" Glynda ventured, to nobody in particular,

And a girl with blue hair shot her head up, "Oh, yeah, we brought out some Commander decks. Did, you, want to play?"

"Ah-" Glynda forced a smile, "I, don't, know what that is…"

"Oh," replied that first girl, awkwardly, before she ducked her head back down into her group.

"So um," one girl tried to ask Glynda, "What's your magical specialty?"

"I'm undecided," Glynda said. And she was acutely aware, that she was probably not actually able to make a decision on that in the first place, and that the distinction between not making a choice and not having a choice was actually pretty significant but she couldn't tell any of them that-

"Oh! Um. That's- that's cool," said the girl

And some of the other girls were doing that cantrip game where you played ping-pong with a spark of light.

And Glynda tried desperately, achingly to think of something to say-

Anything really- just-

Should she ask about orientation? Or, histories with magic?

Shoot, she probably should have started with names, but nobody had asked her her name, and suddenly Glynda had completely forgotten how to even fucking talk to people-

And just-

.

.

.

What was she doing here?

.

What was she even doing here? Back in school , when that was for people who still had their youth and opportunities-

.

Back in magical girl school, when that was for people who actually had a lick of magic-

.

She was, just, burning her savings on trying to live out a pipe dream in something she was too old for-

.

What was she doing here, back in school, with a bunch of children who, what, she was trying to befriend? To hang out with? Did she really think she could make any friends here?

.

This was a mistake-

She didn't belong here-

What, she was just hoping to have some life-changing moment of clarity? But the truth was that it was herself that was just broken, her very being that was the problem-

And that that old dream did die for a good reason-

But she allowed herself to get tempted by hope-

.

.

.

Just how stupid could she possibly have been-

"Excuse me," Glynda said, to the group, and she stood up and turned to the hallway.

Someone meekly said, "Okay," behind her-

Glynda tried to walk steadily to the communal bathroom-

One push of the front door-

She was in a porcelain communal bathroom, alone with the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the slight smell of lemon cleanliness-

And as the door closed Glynda made no pretense of not wanting to run away-

And she hunched over a sick and retched, but she didn't actually vomit, it was just her gut being twisted and broken and sick-

Glynda turned on the cold water, and the steady white noise of rushing water helped calm her down for a second, and she splashed water onto her face-

And then again-

And on the third time it got all over her shirt because she was just such a screw up-

.

"This is what you wanted," Glynda whispered to her reflection-

"this is what you wanted this is what you wanted this is-"

But that only added to her burden and her voice gave out into a sob.

.

This, this was-

.

This was how it always was going to go.

.

What she wanted was impossible-

.

And what she got was simply the logical end of trying to chase something she was never supposed to-

"Um-" said someone, to her left.

Glynda jerked her head up and turned around-

There was a girl-

With a wardrobe predominantly in red and black and just enough silver detailing that Glynda was reminded of the last time she was dragged to a goth rock concert-

"Do you want a cookie?" asked the girl, and she pulled out a ziplock bag, "They help me, when I get like that."