Luc pulled at the edge of her shirt, all too aware of the way her clothes brushed against her skin, hanging awkwardly off her frame. Compared to Marie and Maisey, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. They were both wearing cute dresses, hair done, make up done. Luc hadn’t touched anything more than chapstick in… she couldn’t remember how long.

  While nobody was required to dress up for this, Luc couldn’t help but feel that she was out of dress code. There weren’t more than a dozen magical girls and boys in the room, most people she barely recognized because they did far less than Marie, Maisey, and Luc herself, but they were all dressed nicely.

  She stalled in the doorway, pulling to a halt and forcing Marie to stop with her. Marie stumbled back from their linked arms, shooting her a concerned look.

  “What’s wrong?” Marie asked, stepping in close. Too close. There were barely a few inches between them, her breath hot against Luc’s face.

  “I don’t belong here,” Luc whispered, eyes darting over Marie’s shoulder.

  “What are you talking about?” Marie asked. “I promise you’ve done more than anyone else in the room, aside from the mage.”

  That was probably true. Actually, Luc was certain it was true, but that didn’t change the itch of judgment crawling up her skin. Her eyes dropped to the floor, taking in her favorite, beat up pair of shoes, being held together by duct tape and embroidery floss.

  Marie’s hands slid to Luc’s wrists, tugging on her gently. “I like the way you look,” she said. “Now, come on. We don’t want to miss anything.”

  Luc allowed herself to be pulled into the room, trailing behind Marie until they reached a set of seats at the front of the room that Maisey had claimed.

  Luc slumped into the seat, trying not to look anywhere but the front of the class.

  It didn’t take long for the mage to enter the room, striding through the door with a steaming cup of tea in one hand. She didn’t look much different than when Luc had first seen her, simple jeans and a long sleeved shirt, her leather coat left behind somewhere in exchange for a satchel hanging from her side.

  Her brown hair had been pulled back from her face into a loose ponytail at the back of her head, strands of hair falling down to frame her face. Luc studied her face in the room’s bright lighting, trying to place her as a mage and coming up short.

  While there were some mages that were just as distinct, if not more, than magical girls, the majority of them weren’t. They didn’t have the flashy personas or heavy social media presences. They led quieter, more professional lives, doing jobs outside of the public eye.

  It didn’t take much effort for Luc to imagine herself in a life like that, but at the same time, she had to imagine it would be boring.

  The mage set down her steaming paper cup and scanned the room, eyes finally landing on the door. “If this is everyone, go ahead and close the door.”

  Someone at the back of the room stood up, shoes shuffling against the tile floor before the door clicked shut.

  “All right,” the mage said, drawing her hands together. “Welcome in. My name is Beverly Rein, and I’m a mage.” She opened up her palms and a flower bloomed between them, growing from a spec of a seed to a stem with roots and a flower bud at the top. It bloomed and died before their eyes, the petals falling off to the floor around her feet before disappearing entirely.

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  Luc watched with wide eyes. That flower was the single most concentrated use of magic she’d ever seen, and Beverly had done it effortlessly. Luc could barely feel the echo of magic left behind from its creation and death.

  “I’m actually from here originally,” Beverly said. “Which is why they asked me to come back and talk to you today. Someone did the same thing for me, so here I am. Mage Academy is the only certified school for magic in the country, with the world’s foremost mages and magical theorists working there.

  “I’m sure some of you are wondering how being a mage is different from what you’re doing now as magical girls and boys,” she continued. “The simple answer is: training. Right now, you’re acting on instinct and experimentation. Mages train in spellwork, runes, magic theory, and the science behind magic. Mages are highly trained and highly specialized, and professionals in our field, where you’re little more than gig workers. If you want a career using your magic, the Mage Academy is a way to go.

  “As a mage, you’d be doing a lot more than just fighting magical monsters or cleaning up after them,” Beverely said. “Whether you go private, contracted by private companies or go into business for yourself, or into the public sector underneath government supervision and contracts, you’d be dealing with things no magical girl could manage. Like brain surgery. Or, in my case, magical botany. I study magically mutated plants, their uses and benefits, and cultivate them to create more desired effects. So, questions?”

  Marie’s hand was the first in the air, clearly waiting for the chance. “How do you get into the mage academy?”

  “Ah, yes,” Beverly blinked, looking like she’d forgotten to explain that. “The Mage Academy is a highly selective university, due to the sheer number of magically inclined people throughout the country. Not everyone makes a good mage, and magical girl work is actually a vital component in narrowing down who will make a good mage and who won’t. To get into Mage Academy, you need two things that working as a magical girl might get you: a recommendation from the mage commission, and a recommendation from your community. Proof that you are a productive member of society, and competent with your magic in its basest form.”

  That… was less than what Luc had expected. When she’d agreed to come to this talk, she’d expected to find out that it would be impossible for her to ever even apply. But this was something that she could do. The community would be easy. She’d been working as a magical girl for years; people knew her and trusted her.

  As for the mage commission…

  It would depend on who had to give the recommendation. If it was the commissioner, she could probably swing it. If it was someone else, like Mrs. Oscar, she’d be hard pressed to get a good word in.

  The others continued to ask questions and get answers that ranged from helpful to mere shoulder shrugs from the mage, the woman clearly not interested in being here. Luc stayed silent, one question pressing at the forefront of her mind: what does tuition look like?

  Beverly didn’t keep the questions going before long before directing everyone to look at the materials provided in the form of little pamphlets. She walked toward the door, and Luc scrambled out of her seat, catching the mage before she could slip away.

  “Sorry,” Luc said, darting in front of the woman and ignoring the stares she knew were coming her way. “I had a question.”

  “Ah, go ahead,” Beverly said.

  “It’s about tuition,” Luc said, wringing her hands together. “I was wondering if there are any sort of scholarships or anything? Otherwise, there’s no reason for me to consider it.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Beverly set her cup of tea down again and reached into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers stapled together at the top. “I got this for you, in case you came.”

  She held the papers out as Luc stared at her, wide eyed. “Why?”

  Beverly shrugged. “Because nobody deserves to be stuck here forever because of how they were born,” she said. “If you make it in, reach out. I work in the biology department.”

  Luc nodded, accepting the papers as Beverly slipped away, disappearing out of the room before anyone else could pull her into conversation.

  She turned them over in her hands, a smile stretching across her face as she began to read over the top page. She might actually have a future in this, if she could persuade Marie’s father to recommend her for the academy.