Students began packing their things, their voices rising again as they conversed with one another. A few looked in my direction as they left. Some had curiosity in their eyes, and some looked like... well, let's just say it wasn't a nice look.
Taron didn't rush to leave.
He leaned against the side of the station while I stacked my notes. He was still carrying that constant, irritating, easy energy that made it difficult for me to determine whether he was naive, sincere, or simply an idiot.
He definitely didn't give off the vibe of 'stereotypical noble.'
"That was fun," he said.
I glanced at him. "You have a unique definition of fun."
"Maybe you just have a boring one."
"... That could be possible."
Taron must've been slightly surprised by my response, because he paused before he started to laugh softly.
Then continued, but more casually this time, "You know, I thought you were going to be harder to work with."
"What makes you say that?"
He shrugged, "I don't know, something about you, plus you've got a reputation now."
"Well. That sounds unfortunate."
"It might be." Taron adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "But for what it's worth, you're less intense than people make you sound."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"It is... probably."
Taron straightened and grabbed his things.
"Anyway," he said, "you're an interesting person. I look forward to what we get up to."
"That's a strange goodbye."
"Who said this was a goodbye?"
I looked at him for a moment.
Taron's usual grin returned.
"Until next time, Kael."
And then he was gone, settling into the dispersing class with that same easy confidence he always had, like the whole world was a little more entertaining than what other people gave it credit for, something only he could see.
Well, except for that one moment with Professor Orin.
'I wonder what that was about.'
"Whatcha thinking about, Kael?"
My thoughts were abruppted by Ryn appearing at my side not too long after Taron left.
It was clear that he waited just far enough away to make it look like he wasn't waiting.
He looked in the direction Taron had gone, and then at me.
For a second, I thought he was going to say something.
But he didn't.
"So, are you like a ghost now or something?" I said teasingly.
"What?" Ryn replied
"Well, you just appeared out of nowhere. Like a ghost."
"I didn't appear out of nowhere, I was right behi— no, that doesn't matter right now. We've got a different problem we have to talk about." Ryn said flatly.
"Hm? Like what?" I replied.
"Taron Caelvarin."
"What about him?"
"I don't trust him."
I slung my bag over my shoulder.
"Of course you don't. I thought as much."
Ryn squinted at me. "What do you mean you THOUGHT as much??"
I couldn't contain my laughter as I turned toward the door, with Ryn moving with me.
We only made it a few steps before Professor Orin's voice cut across the room.
"Young Arin."
The Professor's voice instinctively made me stop, and it looked that way for Ryn as well, as we slowly looked back. I could see Professor Orin at the front desk, his expression unreadable.
"Please stay a moment, I would like to discuss something with you."
Ryn's expression shifted slightly. Not openly hostile, but protective in the way it always was when faculty attention landed on me for reasons that weren't immediately obvious.
I gave him a small gesture.
'Go on.'
He held my gaze for half a second longer, then nodded once.
Without another word, he left the room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence settled over the hall.
Most of the ambient heat from earlier casts had already faded. The runes in the station floors were dim now, the crystal partitions reflecting the last of the filtered afternoon light.
Professor Orin didn't speak immediately.
He picked up one of his notebooks, glanced at what he'd written, then set it back down with a deliberate calm.
Only then did he look up and meet my eyes properly.
"Come with me," he said. "We'll talk in my office."
The walk to Professor Orin's office felt way longer than it should have.
He didn't walk me there with that measured slowness that other faculty members use when they want a student to get lost in their own imaginations. No. Professor Orin's walk was only slightly ahead of mine. He led me through a corridor that branched off from the Applied Spellform Hall. We turned once toward a quieter region of the building and stopped just outside a door that looked too plain to belong to someone important.
But then again, maybe that was the point.
Everything about Professor Orin so far screamed that it was a constant battle between looking impressive and being effective.
'I think he'd choose "effective" every time.'
He opened the door with zero grandeur and stepped inside.
"Come in." He said.
I followed, hesitantly.
The office was much larger than I had expected, despite its plain-looking nature; the lack of elaborate shelves, no family crest, nothing to show his superiority, it looked lived in.
Too lived in.
There was a calming, yet unsettling feeling about the room. It felt human, yet illusory.
There was a broad desk of dark oak that sat near the window, its surface half covered with textbooks, crystal plates, and stacked forms.
It was messy.
It was dishevelled.
One wall held bookshelves, but they were arranged in a way that prevented them from being admired. A few books were shoved sideways, with several papers folded and tucked between the pages, like makeshift bookmarks.
And then there was this weird-looking travel coat in the corner.
It looked old enough to have its own stories attached to it, but that wasn't what intrigued me.
I couldn't tell what it was, but there was something about that coat, or rather in it, that felt like I had to grab it there and then.
"Sit."
The scarred man moved behind the desk, set his notebook down, and gestured to the chair opposite him.
So, I did.
The room has a faint smell of old parchment, what looked like some strange tea, and the kind of iron-clean scent that came from places where practical things were maintained regularly.
Through the window, I could see one of Aetherion's side terraces and, beyond that, the lower shimmer of Valoria's streets.
Professor Orin remained still, standing for just a brief moment. Then, with one hand resting against the back of his chair, he asked, "So, Young Arin, how are you finding the Academy?"
I blinked once.
'Huh? This was not how I thought this conversation was gonna go.'