The Heritage Foundation is a new-age institution that was created as a concession after the sweeping reforms of King Arch took away official aristocratic status from noble families. Nobles were now citizens and subject to the laws of the empire like everybody else.

  The official purpose of the Heritage Foundation was the repository and curation of distinct cultural items and texts of the Kozmos Continent. One of those items was the heraldry and pedigree of aristocratic families. Every family was entitled to a certain monetary payout. The size of these payouts depended on one’s contributions and cultural significance.

  That’s why Vahl was currently waiting in line to submit the documents for the payout increase. As an arcanist, he could argue for a significantly higher payout, and he could also apply for certain programmes that he could not before.

  The lobby was decorated in a red, white, and black theme. A distinct lack of flourishes and detail spoke of a different culture than the High Royalist buildings outside, yet the couches and small tables were arranged with a quiet visual appeal. Instead of standard golden chandeliers, electric lights encased in red glass tubes were sporadically hung from the ceiling.

  Eventually, the task was finished, and Vahl walked out of the institution in haste. He was most likely late for the first day at the Academy. He would need to hop on a trolley or find a trackless carriage.

  Vahl pulled his pocket watch out of his coat to try to estimate the time, and in that moment of inattentiveness, he crashed into someone.

  Due to his arcane powers and empowered constitution, the crash wasn't too violent. Vahl let the watch drop and gently clasped the shoulders of the person who crashed into him.

  Her eyes shone a bright blue like those of any arcanist, and her face was pretty. Pretty beyond any reasonable standard. She had small lips and round cheeks partially covered by locks of light blonde hair. The girl was wearing a green dress with white frills and a dark green fabric belt that acted like a corset, squeezing her waist. A skirt cut short enough for movement without sacrificing modesty. She wore white gloves and white boots with a golden rim that accentuated her slender legs. A pair of golden bracelets on her hand made a clicking sound when she stepped back from Vahl.

  Arcanists could alter their appearance after completing a trial. Hence, beauty was commonplace among arcanists. They can alter their facial features and hair color as they desire, with the only common features being cerulean blue eyes and the archetype tattoos. The girl in front of Vahl was extraordinarily beautiful, even taking those modifications into account.

  Vahl moved back as well and decided to break the awkward silence: “My apologies! I was in a hurry.”

  The girl flashed Vahl a smile that stretched just the right amount to appear natural, while covering her mouth with her gloved hand.

  “That’s okay. I’ve been looking for you for a while now. What a wonderful coincidence that you happened to ram into me.”

  Vahl did not like that phrasing one bit. The last thing he needed right now was a scandal.

  “I very much apologise for any harm…”

  The girl flashed him another smile and grabbed his hand to stop him from speaking further: “It was my fault. I should have been more careful.”

  ‘Undoubtedly!’ Vahl shot back in his mind while keeping a composed demeanor.

  “You’re going to the academy, right? Why don’t you take a ride with me in my carriage? It’s late.”

  The girl dragged Vahl by the hand towards a carriage with the crest of an oak. It was made out of sturdy wood, painted over with dark green paint. The roof of the carriage was black and had a golden rim around the edge. The driver and the horse stylist were sitting in front, controlling two muscular brown steeds. The door and window frames were emblazoned with many little symbols of leaves and flowers.

  With little choice in the matter, due to the time crunch, Vahl decided to agree to the free ride. What was the worst that could happen?

  ‘This feels like a setup. If only I could read her mind.’

  This lament prompted a spell to trigger, and Vahl’s tattoos shone with a blue light. He quickly placed his left hand behind his back and let the girl pull him into her carriage.

  His mind raced to cast the spell he had just triggered. The casting puzzle was a rather complex maze with moving parts, but eventually he succeeded, and suddenly he was plunged into another world entirely. One of whispers and glow.

  He felt like he could hear the thoughts of the people around him. It was agonising. The driver was comparing cornflake brands, the horse stylist was thinking about forbidden romance novels, the bystanders on the street were reflecting on their day, and the thoughts of the girl sitting opposite him were a chaotic mess. Vahl felt a massive headache coming. The words and sounds in the air were plain gibberish strung together by a few coherent sentences. He could see the thinking creatures around him glow with a certain outline.

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  It quickly became apparent to Vahl that he had just activated the purple spell orb that he had received from the gargantuan gargoyle. He grabbed his head as he felt a sharp pang of pain.

  “Are you okay?” the girl asked.

  “I was just a bit startled,” Vahl focused on the girl to try to overcome the nausea.

  Suddenly, the voices grew quieter, and the glows disappeared. The only whispers that remained were those from the person sitting in front of Vahl. It was like changing a radio station. Everything came into focus, and Val could discern specific words now.

  “My name is Skye An Aescul,” the girl offered her hand.

  But all Vahl could see was the thoughts swirling around her head: ‘Lucky…so obtuse…my advances…find…like…dragon…beyond my control…Academy…’

  He firmly gripped her gloved hand and stopped the spell. The whispers disappeared, and Vahl could once again focus on the task at hand.

  “I am Vahl An Louviel.”

  “I heard you succeeded in the trial. I’ve been searching for you.”

  ‘If she finds out I’ve been living in a small apartment and don’t own a manor in the central district, I’ll undoubtedly lose face. Let’s steer the theme a bit.’

  “Had I known that such a pretty lady was looking for me, I would have made sure to arrange a meeting,” Vahl switched to polite talk, which might appear like flirting to a dreamless, but it was a common conversational standard among arcanists to overtly compliment the other person and appear more interested than one truly was. It was a cold dismissal of Skye’s agenda, whatever that was.

  Skye laughed awkwardly, and her cheeks gained a shade of red.

  “All I wanted to do was pass on this letter.”

  Vahl took the envelope from her hands and tore it open.

  “I am invited to the Hundred Pillars Society autumn ball?”

  “Your family has had a position there since its founding in the pre-Unification days. Your father was quite active. I am the current president of the Hundred Pillars’ Young Arcanists, so I am responsible for delivering the invitation.”

  Vahl felt a strong desire to activate his mind-reading ability again, but eventually resisted.

  “Sure, I’ll attend.”

  It wasn’t an impulsive decision on Vahl’s part. He needed to rekindle old alliances and meet new people if he wanted to restore his dynasty to its previous glory.

  “That’s wonderful,” Skye cheered.

  Vahl looked out of the window and saw that they had arrived in front of Aldwin’s Academy, at last.

  The stylist opened the carriage door and then jumped towards the animals and started tending to them.

  Vahl was about to exploit this opportunity to run away from Skye and tend to his headache before the announcement began, but a whimper stopped him dead in his tracks.

  There seemed to be a second carriage parked a few paces away, its wheels touching the curb.

  Another cry could be heard coming from behind the carriage.

  Vahl disregarded Skye and flanked the carriage. As he was about to peek around the corner, he put his hand over his revolver.

  The scene behind the carriage shocked him. He felt as if someone had dunked a bucket of cold water on him.

  There on the cold cobblestone lay a young man, his nose bloodied and eyes frantic.

  Above him stood a girl in short pants and a leather jacket. Her outfit could be best described as punk but tidy. Her red pants ended above her knees and exposed her legs covered with black thigh-highs. The pants had a single suspender digging into her white shirt with a collar. The leather jacket was of a feminine design, and so it loosely hung on her form, too short to cover her waist. The girl's wavy crimson red hair fell chaotically in scattered locks.

  Blood dripped from her fist, and her expression was fierce.

  Vahl was currently experiencing a mixture of anger and horror, but he managed to push those sentiments away and step towards the girl: “Is he dreamless?”

  The girl turned around and looked directly at Vahl. He could notice the arcanist tattoo going over the left side of her head shine.

  “What does it matter? He made a mistake, and it was my responsibility to reprimand him.”

  Vahl found it hard to stomach the blatant disregard for noblesse oblige that the girl showed. It wasn’t the purpose of arcanists to control the dreamless but to guide them, or so Vahl believed.

  In that moment, Skye managed to catch up with Vahl.

  When she saw the hurt servant, she stepped closer to Vahl and said: “I see you've done it again, Floren.”

  The red-haired girl looked at Skye with naked disgust and bumped into Vahl with her shoulder, pushing him out of the way as she stormed towards the academy.

  Vahl helped the servant get up.

  “Don't mind her, she's always been like this.”

  “You know her?”

  “We'll be late for the announcement if we stay here any longer,” Skye urged with mild panic in her voice.

  And so, they hurried towards the academy despite Vahl’s hesitation.