Author's Preface
Once class ended, students trickled out of the classroom. Some stayed behind to further ask Rodrick and Deadeye questions and use the arena for practice. Casimir was one of the first to leave.
He looked at the list of patterns Deadeye gave him. They did not write the coordinates down, but I should be able to find them in the library.
“So, where are you heading to next?” Merritt asked.
“To the library and my Aetherian Theory class.”
Merritt groaned. “Sounds so annoying. Almost as boring as my History class.”
“Mhmm?”
Merritt quietly lingered behind him like an unnerving shadow. Although he attempted to be subtle about it, Casimir noticed his shrewd golden eyes questioning his every move.
What is he up to? Casimir glanced at Merritt and gave him a polite smile. “And you are going to…?”
“Also, to the library.”
***
Casimir flipped through the pages of his Ajax’s Art of War pattern book, his eyes shifted up, then over to his notebook. He is really bad at this.
He caught another ill-timed glance from Merritt, who sat across from him. The blonde’s eyes hid behind his book, and he shrugged off his folly with a cough.
Casimir’s gaze scanned the vast rows of books that took up the majority of this floor, minus the small section for the librarian’s desk and a few private rooms for renting out projectors and Aetherian looms.
Then his attention returned to Merritt. “What is it?”
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out what you are looking at?”
Merritt feigned confusion.“What, I can’t look around, but you can?” He flipped a page in the book he was pretending to read. “Your shifty little eyes are always wandering around, and I never bother to ask you that question.”
“Is there something you want to ask me?”
Merritt raised his brow and leaned across the table with a smirk. “Now that you mentioned it, I am a bit curious about one thing.”
“Which is?”
“You said that your uncle is from the Inquis’ Southern headquarters.” Merritt furrowed his brow with a mixture of nervous apprehension and worry. “Wasn’t that place raided by Sageman last year?”
Casimir frowned but kept his nerves in check. “Yes, wasn’t it all in the papers?”
“I know, but it is hard to believe. That guy has not been seen in Nivilies for years, but now he decides to return, and he does a crazy stunt like that! It doesn’t make any sense.” Merritt scratched his head. “I mean, what did the Inquis do to piss him off?”
I’m going to need to be careful when answering this. “From what I heard from my uncle, it had to do with an ongoing investigation. As a Shields, you would know that he was not able to speak– ”
“More about it.” Merritt finished his sentence and tightened his face in thought. “Yes, I get it. But I heard from my dad that Sageman still has sycophants to do that stuff for him. No offense to the Inquis, but you guys aren’t on the same level as a heavy hitter like him. He wouldn’t normally waste his time dealing with them.”
Casimir held back his anger. This blighter…
Merritt continued to ponder. “No, for him to show up in person means one of two things. Either the Inquis had stumbled across something of great importance that he could not risk losing, or it was for a personal vendetta. I’m guessing it is the former.”
The latter.
Casimir lowered his eyes. “All I know is that I lost two of my brothers that day.”
Merritt looked away and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Sorry about that, man.”
“It is fine. You weren’t the one who killed them,” Casimir answered coldly.
Merritt ceased asking anymore questions and began genuinely studying. Casimir welcomed the silence. He got to a portion of Ajax’s Art of War book that required his full attention.
Studying Body Blow’s square pattern illustrated on the grid, Casimir frowned. It looks simple enough, but I remember trying it against Whitley and finding myself being thrown across the room and vomiting afterwards. It is useless against stronger opponents who can quickly notice your Aether entering them and revert it all back to you with their own.
I have to be faster.
After a decent amount of studying, Casimir checked his watch. “I should get going. Thank you for the company.” He rose from his seat.
Merritt followed. “No problem, I should hang around you more often. I actually got some work done.”
Casimir softly hummed with a smirk. He headed over to the brunette librarian, pushing her 40s with a messy bun. After she stamped his books, they exited the library and took the stairs to the second floor, and parted ways.
He traveled through its cement vaulted halls, passing by students chatting away about their break and assignments, until he spotted his class. When he entered the windowless classroom, he found the stale, hot air uninviting. The desks were arranged in an arc facing a white screen, and in the middle was an old projector.
Looks like a lecture class. He took a seat in the front row near the door and watched the students trickle in. He did not see anyone he recognized. Eventually, their professor arrived, a lanky man with unruly midnight-blue hair and black, pupil-less eyes. Despite his soft smile and casual dress of a collared shirt and slacks, Casimir found him slightly unnerving.
“Welcome to Aetherian Theory. I am Professor Voidmaster.” He flipped the lights off and turned on the projector. The device hummed and re-illuminated the room. A slide of the professor observing a small ball of energy suspended in glass appeared on the screen.
“Now, what is Aether? You all should have an idea. We interact with it every day.”
Casimir raised his hand. “The master of all elements?”
“Yes. What else?” He pointed to a copper-haired girl in the back.
“The force that binds all matter together.”
“Yes, so if we find a way to manipulate that force, we can do what?” He pointed to a blonde student in the back.
“Set things on fire?”
“What else?”
“Slow down the speed of an object?” Another student answered.
“Yes, yes, and we can do all of this by rearranging the Aetherian threads with patterns.” Voidmaster’s voice rose in excitement. “Thus, the purpose of this class. First, we will go over how this exciting field of study came to be. Then we will break down the fundamentals of pattern creation. Hopefully, by the end of this class, you will have enough understanding to propose your own theoretical signature pattern.”
Casimir leaned forward in his seat and got his notebook ready.
But before Voidmaster could flip to the next slide, a boom shook the classroom.
Voidmaster caught the projector before it could fall over. Several female students screamed in fright, while others fell out of their chairs. The piercing sound of a fire alarm followed soon afterwards.
What in the world?
“Students! Get up! Exit the building in a calm and efficient manner.”
Everyone poured out of the classroom, steadily filling the hallway with bewildered students. Casimir followed the flustered crowd to the nearest emergency exit, breathing a sigh of relief while stepping out of the building. Snowflakes swirled in the blistering wind and melted on his nose. He retreated to a safe distance from the building before daring to look back.
I don’t see any smoke.
The students and professors huddled together in their respective classes, pondering over what just happened and complaining about the cold. As the minutes flew by, they gradually broke away and joined their own circles of close friends and companions.
Casimir strolled through the crowd, keeping his ears open for useful information. Finally, he heard something interesting from a gathering of students dressed in protective work smocks and goggles. He spied Cornelius standing among them with his eyewear hanging around his neck. Of course, his trusted companions Merritt and Fenna were closely nearby, and naturally Merritt was running his mouth as usual.
“So you’re saying some retard blew himself up?” asked Merritt, doubled over in laughter.
Cornelius suppressed a smirk with a head shake, while Fenna, in an attempt at being subtle, covered hers with her hand.
A long sigh of frustration came out from a titian-haired man who bore a resemblance to Rodrick, but lacked his athletic build and charisma. “I don’t even know how he managed it. When an Aetherian glove overloads, yes, there is some kickback when the device blows a merculium crystal, but…”
His face contorted into a scowl that caused more laughter from Merritt. The man placed a hand on his forehead before continuing. “But to cause an explosion of that size…is inconceivable. This is something to add in a revised safety manual.”
Merritt placed his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think too hard about it, Waine. It just sounds like that guy is a bane around Aetherian devices. Since he busted something else before the explosion.”
Waine shook his head. “That too, but he just rendered the device inert, so we just assumed it needed maintenance.”
Fenna spotted Casimir, and after a demure smile, she poked Cornelius’ shoulder, alerting him of Casimir’s presence.
He greeted him with a subtle smile. “Casimir, it looks like our Alchemy class is going to be down one person. ”
No, it can’t be! Casimir raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me, Bryson is the one who caused this?”
Cornelius nodded.
“Wow! But I thought his hand was messed up!” Merritt howled.
Casimir frowned. “It was not that severe of an injury. He only miscasted an Aether Arrow.”
Waine gave Casimir a look of pure terror. “How! Never mind, it now makes sense. He shouldn’t have been let in. ”
A short man with dark-brown hair crossed his arms and shook his head. “And here I thought he did it on purpose.”
Waine frowned. “If only, wow. I am at a loss for words.”
Casimir turned to Cornelius. “Is he okay?”
“I believe so. He was able to limp to the nurse’s office with the help of his friend. Our professor is probably going to ask my uncle how he should proceed. Keeping Bryson in this class would be a danger to everyone, including himself.”
Casimir frowned. “That is too bad. I heard the experimental program was the reason he was accepted here.”
“What?!” Waine interrupted. “There is no way he passed the technical part of the exam from what I’ve seen.”
The short dark-haired man grumbled, “I wonder who he browned his nose to get in here?”
Casimir shrugged and stroked his chin. I didn’t have a test because the Chancellor assessed me personally, and I had the right connections. Is it the same for him, too? Is he more than a farm boy from a backwater province?
“Well, I do have to thank him.” Merritt placed his hands behind his head. “He got me out of my boring history class.”
He got a smile from Cornelius. “You’re terrible.”
Eventually, the building was cleared for re-entry, and the students returned to class. Casimir checked his watch after he sat down. They had about an hour left. Their professor continued his lecture, but everyone seemed preoccupied by the recent accident.
“Who was it?” “How did it happen?” Popped up as whispers during the lecture in various pockets of the room.
Everyone is still talking about the explosion. I can’t blame them. Voidmaster’s lecture can not compete. I wonder, should I visit Sully or the nurse’s office first after class?