"It's... as expected," I said.
One of his brows shifted a fraction; he was studying me with the same unreadable expression he'd worn in class.
"As expected?"
"Yes."
"Hm. I see."
His response didn't seem to carry any judgment, but it didn't sound too positive either.
He walked around the side of the desk, then leaned against it instead of sitting, one hip resting against the corner, his posture was too relaxed for the room's tension... or at least the tension I was feeling.
"Are you enjoying it?" He asked simply.
That question made me even more uneasy.
I considered my answer carefully.
"Yes," I said eventually. "I think so."
"... That doesn't sound very decisive."
"I'm not sure Aetherion Academy is the kind of place that people can 'enjoy' in the generic sense."
His expression changed slightly; it was only for a moment, but I was able to catch it. It wasn't a smile, but it was certainly close to one.
"Hm," he pondered before answering. "Ok. That answer is acceptable for now."
'For now?'
"Have you settled in?" he asked. "Have the dormitories been to your standard? Are the classes manageable? Anyone try to poison you in the dining hall?"
'What is this crazy old man talking about?'
"So far," I said," I've only had issues with public humiliation and corridor politics."
"Ah! Yes, I heard about that little incident." He nodded thoughtfully, maybe too thoughtfully. "Well then, it looks like you're acclimating quickly."
I didn't answer.
"Oh, and don't worry about what I said regarding the poison, that usually doesn't happen... usually."
Despite his calm expression, I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying this exchange.
'The question is why? I can't seem to think of a reason he would want to see me, and act this way in front of me.'
Professor Orin must've noticed my restraint, or expected it, because he didn't seem remotely bothered by it.
"Have you decided on your electives for the year?" he asked.
"Yes, I have picked them."
"I assumed as much."
"..."
"..."
'Ah, he wants me to say what I picked.'
"Composite Casting, Anti-Beast Tactics, and Music and Resonance Workshop."
That got a reaction. Probably the biggest one he's had so far.
One of his brows was now raised.
"I understand the first two."
I waited.
Professor Orin tilted his head. "Why Music and Resonance?"
"Personal reasons."
'I actually had a reason, but there's a good chance that Professor Orin would've thought I was a madman if I explained it to him, so I refrained from doing so.'
Professor Orin held my gaze for a second longer than was comfortable, and then nodded once, accepting my answer in a way that only people with enough authority could, while still making it very obvious that he could find out if he wanted to.
"Fair enough," he said.
The room went quiet.
It felt strategic, almost.
He seemed to have no problem letting silence sit there between us, while looking at me like he was still calibrating something.
'I don't like where this is going.'
It wasn't because the silence felt hostile, actually, it was because it wasn't.
Hostility would've been easier to detect.
This felt more like he was trying to decide which version of the conversation he wanted to have, and I was no longer enjoying being present for the decision.
He asked a few more questions after that. Still, they all remained in the same frustrating vein of: how am I managing the pace of the Academy, do I prefer theory or practical work, what my opinions on the ranking culture were, and he kept emphasising that the Academy encouraged comparison, that it wasn't a flaw, but rather a function.
Taken together, they became something more irritating than direct pressure.
They became that feeling of delaying the inevitable.
And the longer he went on, the more aware I became that none of this was why he'd asked me to stay.
He knew it.
I knew it.
So eventually, I stopped letting him pretend otherwise.
"Professor."
"Yes?"
I sat forward and folded my hands in my lap to keep from looking visibly impatient.
"With all due respect, I'm sure you wished to discuss something with me other than my state of affairs within the Academy."
For the first time since I entered the office, he looked actually pleased.
Not because I'd challenged him.
Because I'd finally stopped tolerating the setup.
"Indeed, I do," he said.
I stared at him.
Something about the way he acted changed; he appeared sterner and more focused.
"Tell me, Young Arin," he said, "have you ever heard of the Prestige Electives?"
I paused.
'Prestige Electives? There was nothing about that on the elective forms.'
"No. I haven't."
A beat of silence.
"I didn't even know they were an option."
"You wouldn't have," he said. "They aren't publicly available to first-years."
I frowned and tilted my head slightly in confusion.
"Then why ask?"
He leaned back against the edge of the desk with a slight grin.
"Just because they aren't publicly available doesn't mean they aren't available at all."
"Of course, what else would you expect from a fantasy world..." I mumbled accidentally.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing, just talking to myself."
"Ok... anyway, Prestige Electives," he said, "are invitation-only modules; they are not included in the standard first-year curriculum. They aren't on any selection forms. Most students won't know they exist until the second or third year."
I kept my expression neutral, absorbing the information that was being presented to me.
'So the Academy had another hidden ladder, one that students had to be invited to climb up.'
Naturally.
Professor Orin continued.
"Each faculty member who teaches the first-year cohort may invite one student," he said. "One. Only one out of hundreds of first-year students."
"Only one per professor?"
"Yes."
"That's... quite selective."
"It's meant to be."
Professor Orin spoke with so much ease that it was easy to tell he's had this conversation before, but how many times, I couldn't quite tell.
"Students who receive those invitations," he went on, "tend to do well. Not because the invitation itself makes them exceptional, but because it places them in rooms where exception is treated as a starting point."
That line stayed with me.
And he noticed.
"You understand what I mean."
"Yes."
"Do you?"
I looked at him.
"Yes," I repeated. "It sounds like the Academy has its own social elite-only clubs."
This time he did smile, faintly.
"That's one way of saying it."
"It's an accurate one."
That got a small laugh from Professor Orin.
"Haha. It usually is, with you."
I chose not to respond to that.