The chaos that was their first class was interrupted by a general announcement, according to which they were to make their way to the plaza. This being her second year, Ankaa was not as easily impressed – the headmaster spoke of four guiding principles, yet only strength seemed to be honored, given who the Miracle Seven were and how they came by their positions. Nonetheless, she listened and watched attentively.
At one point during the ceremony, another student slinked into his seat; the latest of the latecomers so far. She watched him settle down, amused, then turned back to the front. The six of this generation’s miracles made their way onto the stage, and Ankaa had to clap her hands to her ears at the commotion
that raised. When the formalities were finally done and over with, professor Nyx gave them leave to enjoy themselves.
Liu breathed in and out, suffused with the intensity of the atmosphere. She’d learned that if she focused on a particular segment of the festivities instead of trying to take it all in at once she would not get overwhelmed. A pleased smile curling her lips, the martial artist wandered off, not paying any mind to where any of her dispersing classmates were headed.
She was drawn to the familiar first, and found herself amidst clubs presenting their specialities, whether arcane or physical. There was The Summoning Society, displaying their mini worker-golems (the contracts for which they seemed more than willing to sell) and making an attraction out of their elemental spirits (admittedly pretty). The Witches’ Den was performing card-readings, palm-readings, luck-readings, and all other sorts of demystifying of the fates. Nearby was the Alchemist Workshop with exhibits of potions and transmutations, as well as a stall selling their products. Right next to it was a “Mystical Supplies” shop ran by Practitioners United, cramped with packages of dried and fresh herbs, a variety of potted plants, bottled animal parts, assorted samples of soil stored in vials, whole and ground crystals, bundles of incense, a dizzying array of glass containers, magical implements of all sorts, scrolls, journals, tomes, and more.
Liu spent stayed a good amount of time within the shop, and she might have lingered if not for the groups of people crowding in one after the other and pestering the salespeople for smoking herb packets, which were apparently so popular they were already running out. Anyhow, her scanning of the shelves earned her a second-hand copy of “Flora of Genelogia and the northwestern Alrune: Locations, Characteristics, and Uses”. While waiting for her turn at the counter, she also decided to purchase the so-called lucky stone as a keepsake – mainly because she found it both odd and amusing that it was actually the earbone of a specific type of fish. She was given a paper bag for her wares, which she tied to her right hip with her sash, and exited Mystical Supplies. She passed the numerous tents set at a lawn right to the sight, sniffing curiously at the sickly-smelling vapour wafting from them.
As she progressed through the venue, her attention wavered, so she more-or less let her gaze wander from one colourful display to the next, not really absorbing the details of what she was observing. There were plenty of cafés, food kiosks, confectioneries, and drink bars dispersed all throughout, she noticed that much. What truly drew her out of the haze, however, was the anatomy lesson at the Healer Camp, where they were dissecting a very realistic model of the human body. Ankaa watched, fascinated; she’d not yet been able to see an actual human corpse being taken apart, so something like this was right up her alley. She nodded along as the performing students used the scalpel to cut open the torso, showed each organ, and explained the basics of surgery. Once done, they put the body back to rights and patched up the fake-patient with the help of magic.
Satisfied, she continued on with her trek. Ankaa spent some time at the Armaments Gallery, marvelling at the collection and the artistry with which the Weapon Enthusiasts wielded them. There was a huge square with multiple ongoing combat matches, and she politely walked up to a fellow martial artist once they were done with their round.
“Would you be willing to accept my challenge?” she enquired, eyes shining with fervor, body tensed and ready to get into the heat of things.
The heavily sun-kissed, bare-chested male with a cascade of dreadlocks falling down his shoulders looked up from where he’d been toweling off the sweat from his exertions.
“Hm? Oh, sorry, but what you’re seeing here is just for club members,” he explained. “You can join us and get to do this next year though,” he added with a wink.
“I’ll…consider that, thank you,” Liu replied with a mild frown.
“Is there no way for me to test my mettle today, then?” she muttered, thinking that perhaps the idea of challenging a Miracle Seven wasn’t such a bad one after all, if arranging something with a regular student was such a hassle.
“The muscle kids have devised a simple test and opened it for the general public,” added a new voice, smooth and clear, but somehow chilling. When Ankaa looked up, she saw a female had joined their conversation, one of a surprisingly delicate constitution. However, she was obviously graceful and dangerous, and if someone emulated the expression of ‘skin like porcelain’ it was her. The shorter lady smoothed back a stray hair from her forehead casually, then with another smooth movement, pointed somewhere.
“You will find them there.”“Thank you,” Ankaa said with a respectful bow of her head, and departed. That was how she found herself amidst the Arm-wrestling Gauntlet. She beat several people, even one of the Muscle Maniacs club-members, which earned her a small monetary prize. Now recompensated for her previous spending, and even running a small profit due to her winnings, Ankaa moved to another section of the Academy grounds. Based on the booths of wood-carved and painted masks, rotating shelves of jewelry, statue displays, intricate food creations, and advanced mechanical constructions, various artisans were congregated here. Such diversity was truly humbling to see, and Ankaa couldn’t help but wonder what other parts of the world were like.
There was an enormous gathering of people round the Arcane Paints Club’s portrait painting service. The martial artist hadn’t a clue why all the fuss about this activity in particular, but she got closer to check it out – or at least, tried to. She couldn’t quite make it into the heart of the crowd, though. As her gaze flitted right and left, attempting to find the optimal path through the people, she saw a familiar face.
“Hey, Kress,” she greeted the boy from a distance, shouldering her way through to him.
When she arrived, she noticed another boy, this one with long black hair, and someone who happened to match her height exactly. More memorable than his gentle face was the peculiar apparel he wore – a beautiful robe, similar in style to the Sixth Seat’s – and the fact that he’d shown up so late he’d not even made it to their intro class.
“Oh, you,” she offered to the unknown student, having missed his introduction to Kress.
“Just how lost did you get that you had to sneak in during the ceremony?” she wondered, tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“You should probably know the professor had us introduce to him,” she confided,
“so I think he’ll notice you were missing,” she concluded.
“But he might not care,” she added dubiously, shrugging her shoulders.
“That aside,” she waved a negligent hand,
“Are you two waiting to get a portrait done?” she asked disbelievingly.
“Looks like a long wait,” she noted, expression puzzled. She really didn’t get the appeal at all. If she wanted to see her own face, she could simply look into a water’s surface, or a mirror, could she not? Perhaps one of her current companions could enlighten her to the allure of it.
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