Cira helped Eliza carry a bunch of microscopes and reactive materials into the classroom area which seemed to seat upwards of fifty people. It made Cira more and more nervous as Eliza used a spell to space thirty sets of each item out.

  “I haven’t attended class in many years…” Cira rested her face on one fist, leaning against her desk while her and the teacher awaited the others. I’ve also only ever been the sole student. Why did I agree to this again? I should be hiding in a library right now. “Are you sure I should attend? I’m already familiar with the subject matter.”

  “No need to be nervous,” Eliza laughed as her crimson hair swayed. She wore a kind smile that reminded her somewhat of Kuja. Eliza was sort of growing on her. “It’s just as Fitz said. You can hole up in the library anytime, for as long as you want in this life, but you will miss out on various experiences in solitude. This is true no matter how vast the extent of knowledge available may be. Even if this isn’t your first time learning the subject, I bet you’ll learn something today.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” Cira waved her off with a roll of the eyes, “That’s why I’m here.”

  She was expecting a retort when the sound of a door opened behind them. Mana reflexively gathered around Cira and she spun around. A young man froze stock still as he met her gaze, and she instantly released the pressure.

  “My bad… Please, come in.” Cira followed up sheepishly, but the guy didn’t look any more at ease.

  Eliza let out a long sigh at her podium, “Please, Evan. This girl will be sitting in on our class today and is unfamiliar with a classroom environment. Don’t take offense.”

  “…Right...” Evan sat down at the nearest seat to the door and before Cira could say anything to make the situation worse, multiple other doors opened. What was presumably the rest of the student body began to trickle in, many of which gave her odd looks until she turned around.

  Wait, why did I sit in the front? That means everyone looking at the teacher also sees me. I can already feel them looking at me. Spatial Sight confirmed that many were in fact looking at Cira, not Eliza, and some were even whispering.

  “Who’s the new girl?” One boy asked his friend.

  His friend who replied was the pompous magician looking type with a sharp jawline and self-assured voice even in whisper, “I don’t know, but I’m calling dibs on her—”

  “You two morons.” Cira was ready to support the girl next to them who admonished their foolish words, but then she continued. “She’s obviously some born-in lout like Kristof. I bet she’s dumber than a brick.”

  Wow, rude. Do I need to slap this woman? Would the rest of them attack? I’m certain I could take them—

  “Ahem!” Eliza loudly got the class’s attention. Almost all the seats they laid out were filled at this point and their eyes pointed toward the front. “This is your temporary classmate, Cira.” She looked at the girl in question, “Now would you like to introduce yourself to the class, or shall I?”

  Damn this woman… I can’t let her give my introduction. Worst case, nobody shuts up about my dad. I really don’t want to talk about him right now, and all the arbiters know him… I have to do this myself.

  Cira turned around and sat on her desk, grazing her eyes over all the students. Some sneered at her appraisal while others turned wary. She noticed a couple talents and outlying auras, but not a one of them could hold a candle to the arbiters.

  “I am the Sorcerer Cira.” Perfect. Short and to the point. There’s no way anyone can question it. “That is all.”

  Suddenly, laughter erupted from the back row, “Don’t you mean sorceress? And nobody calls themselves that anymore. What are you a thousand years old?” The young man started a chain reaction of jeering and Cira tried not to let her cheeks run hot.

  “Why—how dare you.” She stood up and crossed her arms, narrowing her gaze at the original jokester, “I am a sorcerer like my father before me. What does it matter to you—”

  “Ha!” He slapped his buddy’s chest, “Why is she standing on the desk?”

  Many of the students burst into laughter, some even pointing at her with tears in their eyes.

  “Wh-why shouldn’t I be? I’m trying to make a point!” By now Cira was flustered and she knew that there was no going back. She had inadvertently made a social blunder or two. Her words meant nothing to them any longer. “What is wrong with you people?”

  Black lightning crackled at Cira’s feet as she channeled mana into the room, then a sudden thought overtook her.

  No, I always try to run away. I refuse to do the same today. Aren’t I here to learn? Why do they have to be like that?!

  Cira was getting better at concealing her mana by the day, but she was also still young—subject to the throes of emotion, conscious or otherwise. She didn’t even notice the suddenly fearful faces of her fellow students or charring on the desk at her feet when Eliza’s voice came from her back.

  “Now, now. Don’t make me repeat myself, class.” She looked over the room with subtle scorn, “Cira has been travelling alone for many years and knows not our customs here. Do you wish to besmirch the Third Order with your conduct? Know that if you earned her ire, a pureblood legacy like herself would face no repercussions from your destruction. Add that the list of reasons to hurry up and get your first marks.”

  She nodded to Cira, as if they were supposed to be understanding each other. What is this, a challenge? Or does she truly think I may wish to make an example here?

  Cira sighed, stepped down from her desk and took a seat, “Worry not, Eliza. There is far too much death in these skies and I think I’ve added to it enough lately. Believe it or not, I am here in hopes of taking a break from such heavy matters.”

  A few of the students gasped while most went silent. Her mana was gone like a fleeting wind and the room was calm again.

  You little bastard. Cira spared a quick glance over her shoulder and the guy who first made fun of her went pale. I am not above treating you as another Kristof.

  “Alright class,” Eliza cleared her throat, banging on her podium, “Can anyone tell me where we left off yesterday?”

  A cacophony of flipping pages caught Cira by surprise and she realized she had no idea where to look in the dense book before her.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “The property of altitudinal tangibility, Ma’am!” A young girl with glasses shouted with a raised hand. She timidly turned her gaze downward when she felt Cira look at her.

  After a few moments of the girl smoldering in her seat, Eliza replied, “Please continue, Emma. Cira was not present last week and would appreciate some context.”

  Wh-how would you know? Cira internally cursed herself as she had actually not heard that term before.

  “W-well…” This sheepish girl who sat on the opposite end of the front row glanced up at Cira and all the blood drained from her face. She seemed to look toward Eliza for comfort. “We were discussing the theory of natural authority. D-despite the fact that air is thinner at higher altitudes, it only becomes more difficult to manipulate the air with one’s will. As if… as if the world holds its own authority, or the air belongs to the sky.”

  Cira unconsciously smacked her desk, “That’s it!”

  She had felt it directly as she attempted to stop the island the other day from falling. Cooler names for the concept that flowed off the tongue better were already flashing through her mind when she realized she had made an outburst.

  The girl shrunk down, but Eliza became curious, “Oh? Do you have an experience to relay to the class? I must admit I would like to hear it.”

  Hmm… Cira looked over the students’ uncertain faces and shrugged, turning her attention back to Eliza.

  “I don’t see why not. Just a few days ago a piece of an island twice the size of Icarus fell.” A window portraying the cataclysm briefly appeared, “As my flesh burned away, I could feel this mass of earth had already fallen under the sky’s dominion the moment it departed from its home. Stopping it was impossible without surmounting this so-called ‘altitudinal tangibility’, or ‘world’s weight’ as I like to call it. Works in broader contexts as well. Name might need some work, but that’s aside the point.”

  She heard whispers behind her but none moved their lips when she turned. Eliza thought it over but before she had the chance, the voice of the cowardly Emma cut through the silence.

  “The… the sky’s dominion! You actually tried to stop a plummeting island?” Objectively it could have been taken as a slight, but Cira wanted to hear what she had to say. “Or, it just broke off from another island? Would you say the world’s weight effect increased scaling with velocity as it fell?

  “Hmm… Certainly. Though I admit, it was as close to terminal velocity as it could get by the time I found it. The fact that it resisted my will beneath the earthen pillar of the sage like no other piece of earth I had ever felt was alarming to say the least. It wasn’t until my corporea melted away that I truly felt the force behind the resistance. Even all my efforts hardly blunted it. I suppose the will of the world is not to be taken lightly.”

  The girl turned sheepish at having been addressed so bluntly, but her curiosity pulled her back up, “The world’s will… Is there such a thing?”

  “There is indeed.” Eliza laughed at her podium, “And that is exactly what we will be covering in this session.” She smiled between Cira and the studious girl across, “Thank you two for opening this discussion. Now, the will of the world is more commonly known as the rules of the sky. Not to be confused with laws of existence, these rules describe the order of reality. Natural disasters are just culminations of worldly processes—chain reactions of the elements conforming to their nature when tension within their bounds is tested. Can anyone tell me one such rule?”

  The class was silent, but one boy with dark hair in the back spoke up with a politely raised hand, “All which lives… must die. Right?”

  “Correct.” Eliza answered with a smile. “Perhaps one of the most infallible rules. Well said. Anyone else?”

  Cira had to get in on this. Death was obvious, but she could surely contribute a thought-provoking answer.

  Hmm… dammit. “The aether exists within all.” That was weak.

  “But of course,” Eliza chuckled into her hand, “such is the base thesis of aethereal metaphysics.” Some students started to awkwardly laugh, which grew like a snowball. “Class! Quiet down. Cira is not wrong that it pertains to this lesson. Does not a single one of you realize why?”

  Cira was ready to withstand ridicule all over again, but Eliza reigned her class in swiftly. It seemed they all respected her deeply. One man in the corner raised a doubtful hand in the air.

  “It’s because these rules are all the basis of aethereal metaphysics.” Despite his tone, he sounded confident. The look on his face gave Cira the impression he was intimately acquainted with the subject.

  “Indeed they are!” Eliza leveled a youthful smile over the whole class, “Born of energy, substance, and circumstance, these rules are something which bind us all in this world. That which constrains us to our limits, and prevents us from overstepping our station as mortals of the sky.”

  Mortal or not, Cira took offense to this proclamation. Nothing constrained her to absolution. Without even her curses, a sorcerer’s missive was to carve a path through an unrelenting environment. No rule existed which couldn’t be at the very least bent, and she was no stranger to doing so based on her own understanding. There were many things she had done which felt like they should not be possible.

  Before she even had the chance to question Eliza, a familiar voice spoke up. Her glasses bobbed as she pierced the room with her voice, “But rules can be broken, can’t they? Necromancy teeters on the edge of natural order and we have all heard tale of Farlord Gazen’s Crown of the World, right?”

  …Dad’s what?

  “Did he not bend reality to his will?” Emma continued in earnest, “Surely this cannot be allowed. Is it possible there is some leeway?”

  Cira’s mind swirled against her own will. She was tired of hearing about her father. It was enough. She hadn’t even had time to deal with the ostensible betrayal or lies by omission he left behind. As much as she wanted a break, there was nothing she could do but face this.

  “The Crown assumed authority over reality, but this effect relied on natural components. He could not produce the impossible, and could at best maneuver between the rules on precarious steps.” Eliza flipped her book open, “Now turn to page one hundred seventy-four. As you can see, necromancy tests these rules. It is no secret that minor offenses are forgiven, or simply not enough to garner watchful eyes. One would have to remove hundreds or even thousands of souls from the cycle before catching unwanted attention.”

  Cira skimmed over the page and watched it dive into how manipulating life and death mana was a relatively minor offense in the grand scheme of rule breaking. There was a short discussion she enjoyed that culminated in the subject of outright denial of passing, and it was historically understood that even those who were capable of resurrection seldom used it for fear of higher powers.

  While small-scale offenses were negligible enough, there were two facets which needed to be respected above all others: the cycle, and time. Time for instance was an especially grave offense as it was the concept upon which all rules operated.

  “But… is it even possible to manipulate time?” Emma spoke with bated breath and a girl next to her started daydreaming.

  “They say it is easier to touch the past than the future,” Eliza mused, “But I cannot say I have experienced it firsthand."

  Hmm… Cira thought back to the lantern which lit her path to a moment over a thousand years in the past and decided to hold her tongue.

  The past, you say… is it possible to manipulate the past without affecting the future? That’s just the present at that point, isn’t it?

  “I wonder… if I can go back in time one day.” Emma gazed out the window in yearning as the entire class fell into curiosity at the tough subject presented today.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. There’s wiggle room to be had manipulating life, as it will surely return to death one day, but have you ever wondered why there’s no firsthand accounts of time travel?” She cast an inquisitive gaze over the room, eventually landing on Cira.

  While she didn’t have an answer, she was starting to sweat. Messing with the cycle is evidently how my dad ended up finding Mac, but random sorcerers with perceptive artifacts doesn’t seem like too reliable a threat. Eliza makes a good point though. Why weren’t there any firsthand accounts of time travelers?

  “Because they’re all in the future.” A male voice from behind answered, quickly countered by a girl on the other side.

  “No, stupid. Most people would go to the past anyway. Half the people here would do that if they could.” Cira didn’t look at them as her own thoughts were spinning.

  Going to the past to see her dad would be nice. So, it is possible… We’ve established that. Perhaps this requires further study—

  “Many have surely done as much.” Eliza rounded everyone’s attention back up front, “There’s no real reason for it to be impossible, and techniques to achieve time travel even exist deep within the archive. Yet none who have succeeded are still around. You see, even if these rules can be broken, doing so invites the ire of Vercephus. If you would all turn the page,” She waited a moment while the sound of paper calmed, “This is the only illustration of an angel considered to be accurate.”