A building. One rather elaborate and thematically invocative of all things locally attributed to ‘magic’ and the arcane. The foreigner stood there, handbag in hand, as if an ordinary commoner girl. She did not even need to read to sign to know she was at the right place.

  This facility was one of the many ‘application and assessment centers’ belonging to a continent-spanning institution of sorts, dubbed the ‘Mage Collegium’—even in local tongue, this so-called ‘Collegium’ used a fairly archaic variant of their word for ‘college’.

  The Collegium was the preeminent institution responsible for educating and training ‘mages’—arcane specialists of this place’s magic system. However, from what she had heard so far, these ‘freelancers’ seemed to be independent from this Collegium despite having been trained directly by them.

  Nevertheless, finding this facility was fairly easier than expected. All she had to do was utilize the tried-and-tested method of…simply asking randoms around until one eventually pointed the right way. It was still fairly early in the morning, likewise, giving her plenty of time to see where…this path might lead her, if anywhere at all.

  The foreigner approached closer, her mask-obscured eyes peering curiously… Hm… Seemed fairly quiet… For whatever reason, something imbued deep down within her was…cautious.

  Abruptly: Caw, caw, caw.

  So many caws and croaks suddenly bounced about in the air around from above that very building, as the wings of something so took off in quite the flutter, gone by the time the foreigner’s snapping attention came lancing; she only saw the blackish blueish feathers left behind.

  ? Quid nefas? ? her ever-slightly elevated breaths mumbled out… She was…admittedly perhaps…maybe startled…by this suddenty, even if only barely so; although, she had certainly paused in a short freeze.

  She exhaled a standing down breath… Just an avian, she quickly realized. Yet, even so… How long had it been there? She pondered… It had been just above the doorway… Watching her… Surely, she should have noticed something like that, yet…

  Regardless, whatever, not her present priority nor care.

  The foreigner relaxed herself and more especially her face, donning her usual pleasant smile and feigning charm as she stepped towards the entrance and…opened it.

  “Hello… I greet…” the foreigner…cautiously announced as she slowly stepped in, the door closing behind.

  Hmm… Her mask-obscured eyes peered around… A rather peculiar place, indeed; quite esoteric and ‘niche’ compared to what she had observed prior.

  The floor was of a dark-blueish carpet, the walls being adorned with paintings of figures, persons, and depicted events—likely people and moments of significance to the Collegium’s history. Weird…bluish lights or ‘lamps’ dotted the walls in kind, illuminating all around. A long circular counter was at the center of this space; a space filled with many-many chairs that surrounded, most of which were presently unoccupied, besides a handful of denizens—all of whom were female.

  Quiet, it was so oddly quiet… The denizens here seemed to be…waiting, minding themselves—besides, save, one… Indeed, one of the denizen ladies—the closest to her current position—was eyeing her… Attentively yet…evasively and timidly; thus, likely curiosity.

  Hmm… Nevertheless, the foreigner stepped forth… Nobody seemed stationed at the center, yet…sounds were certainly echoing out from it; someone was clearly there, just…finicking around underneath. “Hello?” she announced louder, stepping towards the counter.

  Immediately, “Huh??” a voice came bouncing out as a long-bearded old man of sorts came popping out, his head peering for a glance… “Oh my…” Seeing the masqueraded and ostensibly Far Western girl before his sight, he quickly stood himself up, hands patting away at his grey mage-robes before redonning his rather pointy mages’ hat. “I apologize, I was looking for… Oh, it matters not; you care little, I bet…”

  Beard, staff, pointy hat, robes… Truly, this was stereotypically an old mage in all the generic ways, as the locals would say.

  The foreigner faintly donned a smile; “Not the problem!” she said, approaching the counter in full and halting before it; “I was told that…if I wanted to become the mage that I should…come to here…”

  “Why yes, that would be correct!” the old mage replied quite golly, his eyes then peering; “Hmm…” he stroked his long beard, “a lady—obviously. And you seem to be Far Western too—appearances aside, your accent is evident…” He sighed; “Oh, the twists Fortune sure loves to play… Sometimes the sickest of ironies, for ladies are all we receive these days, and it seems now Far Western ones too, haha!”

  The foreigner tilted her head ever-so slightly… Hm… Although she had no real reason to begin pointlessly inquiring, pointless curiosity was something she was…prone to. “Uhm… What do you mean? What is the…problem with the ladies?” she thus gently inquired; “I give the sorry, I am not familiar with these things… I am from the New World colony—the very remote one… So, I am with the ignorance of…much…” She donned…somewhat embarrassed affect.

  The old mage chuckled; “Oh, sweety, I was merely speaking my tongue ahead of heart, but… You want an actual history lesson from me, now? Very well. I can provide, if you are willing to lend your ear; though, it is a complicated tale of hubris…”

  “I am listening…” the foreigner replied, reassuring her apparent interest; some of it feigning, some of it genuine, for…the more she knew about this place she was stranded in, the better.

  The old mage ahemed, clearing his throat and breaths; “Well, in essentials: it all began several decades prior to this day… You see, over the course of this century and the prior, our Collegium has been trying to expand its grasps and make itself more appealing to our counterparts in the Far West who had become quite interested in the magecraft our lands as well” he thus began to narrate; “But while our lands had retained a long tradition of openness regarding who could become artisans of magecraft, the Far West, as you may…or—ahem—may not…know, views their—as they call it—‘sorcery’ as a man-exclusive art of high prestige, and this very much…reflected in their respect and…attitudes towards our traditions…as ‘tainted’ and unable to be taken seriously…”

  “I see…” the foreigner just followed along.

  “And, thus, the Collegium in our attempt to improve our appearances amongst the Far Western magical institutions, enacted a policy that severely restricted the advancement of girls and ladies in hopes of discouraging their future enrollment and eventually ‘phase out’ women entirely…” the old mage continued; “Girls were restricted to advancing no higher than level three of our ten-level scheme, with only the most exceptional being allowed advancement to level four, and any woman who had achieved a higher level prior to the policy’s enactment were locked in place: not demoted, but could not advance further… This, of course, came with prohibitions on their involvement in certain programs, opportunities, and instructor positions; but other benefits, privileges, and rights remained…”

  “Uhuh…” Well, this was no longer seeming as promising… Truly, what was it with these denizens and being so dysfunctionally oppositional to half their population?

  “Nevertheless, as you can see…” The old mage gestured at the sea of chairs around, even more ladies having arrived, some waiting behind in a forming line, patiently waiting… “This policy did not have its intended effects… Indeed, in absence of any advancement or upward opportunities within the Collegium or future, in spite of the clear benefits and advantages of retaining association, our intermediate-level women left the Collegium in droves, and girl students left in even greater droves after reaching their maximum…”

  “You speak as if this is the bad thing…” the foreigner remarked; “But is that not what was desired by you?”

  “In one way, yes, perhaps… However, these ladies then began to practice their art unregulated and…sell that practice—for cheap…” the old mage thus spoke; “The Collegium had always ensured that our students and mages at all levels had dignified, respected, and elite roles and positions most befitting their talents and artistry. Independents and rogues have always existed; but, in our hubris, we tossed upon all the thousand realms…an unprecedented supply of cheap magical labor, flipping both the economies and our traditions on their heads… And now ladies flock to us in even greater droves than even before, seekers of these new opportunities as opposed to magical rite, in spite of efforts to control the influx…”

  “If this is such the problem, so why then you do not prohibit the ladies in full?” the foreigner frankly inquired.

  “We can’t.” The old mage was fairly blunt; “Not anymore, at least… The demands for freelancers are far too high, from industry, commerce, to even the armies. Banning women entirely would only force the already organizing freelancers to start their own…alternative teachings, without our standards, care, ethics, and checks, usurping the Collegium’s traditional role in the regulated instruction of magic… No, it’s either we teach them or they teach themselves, and we prefer the former… There is no closing this box we had opened…”

  “Hm…” The foreigner was processing, parsing through this load of information… “But, so… These ‘freelancers’, they are in the end still the ‘mages’, no? So… What is the problem? Or what is the differences between them and the mages of you?”

  “Initially, not much. However, these days, plenty…” The old mage was frank; “The Collegium strives for a controlled and regulated practice of the magical arts; we are artists of magecraft—scholars and academics… We understand its power and respect it; we seek to ensure that only those deserving can wield it…” He sat himself down, finally, and relaxed his posture… “Freelancers, meanwhile…” he continued, “well, those ladies are pragmatists at heart. These days, they treat their talents as a ‘utility’ and ‘tool’ to solve ‘practical problems’… Respectable endeavors, certainly, but they lack the same diligence and respect for their art, and have not nearly the same…cautions and vigilances in their doings…”

  “I see…” Well, this was certainly interesting, she supposed… Although, she would prefer to move on now.

  “Although, I am no conservative…” the old mage continued; “Freelancers are an entrenched profession now, and…both they and the Collegium have their roles to which both ought to respect…” He sighed, aheming; “Well, then, enough of that. You are certainly here for those reason, no? Seeking the ‘employment opprotunities’ associated with magical talents?”

  The foreigner looked away, nodding a guilty…“…yes.”

  The old mage promptly chucked; “Well then, let us get the process underway and fast… It appears I used too much time with that…rambling of mine…” Indeed, the line behind had only grown, and its patience was…tentative. Immediately, he took out from a drawer a rather qualitied document of sorts alongside a quilled pen, promptly writing within a box at the top. “No need for names or other details… You will simply be… Hm… Ten…” He wrote down.

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  “Ten?” The foreigner tilted her head lightly…

  “You were the tenth one in” the old mage said.

  “Oh…” Right, obviously…

  “Now then,” the old mage continued forth, “you will submit to three tests as part of our selection process for prospecting applicants: a school affinity test, a spellcard assessment, and a knowledges exam. You must meet our standards for both school affinity and spellcard utilization to be formally considered for application. The knowledges exam is more to assess your current learnedness, especially seeing that you are an alien; passing is not mandatory for application, but will certainly benefit in admission consideration.” he thus explained; “If your number is not called today, you may return tomorrow. Now, any questions?”

  The foreigner…contemplated… She certainly had some inquiries, however…

  “Hugh! Why is this taking so long…”

  “Alien bitch, pfft… Natives should have priority…”

  Indeed, the ladies behind were no longer so patient…

  “Hm. No. There are no more of the questions to me…” the foreigner thus stated… She did not want to be the cause of another incident.

  “Splendid!” The old mage was jolly; “Well then! Now just pay the one-time nonrefundable fee so that you may begin!”

  Hearing this, the foreigner instantly blanked on the inside, her head tilting rather the tilt… “…fee?”

  “Yes. The fee…” the old mage replied; “Sixty silvers for men… One hundred silvers, or one gold, for women… That is the fee for this selection process, unfortunately…”

  ? … ? Of course… ? Síc videtùr… ? She sighed and opened her coin pouch; with grave reluctance, she motioned to take out the last of her once two gold coins…

  “Oh, rightly… I must also specify that aliens must pay an additional fifty silvers service fee…” the old mage added… “I must say that…I do not condone these policies, but…”

  ? … ? The foreigner froze as if having been zapped, staring blanker than blank… Ah… Truly, it always had to be one thing or another thing with these denizens… Not knowing how many silvers she even had left, she proceeded to just dump the entire contents of her coin pouch onto the counter.

  “Duh…” The old mage began to sort through the coins, isolating the one gold coin and whatever silvers from…the bronzes. “I am afraid to say, you are…sixteen silvers short…” he…informed, before aheming; “However, since you paid the majority of it and did humor an old man’s love for explaining…” He proceeded to collect sixteen of her…scattered bronzes; “I am too blind and old to be manning a counter like this, always prone to blunders…” His voice spoke as if with a wink as he placed the collected coins into a special drawer of sorts.

  “Oh, uhm… Alrightly…” The foreigner…was slightly confused, frankly, but could not be bothered to protest; she simply recollected the excess bronzes.

  The old mage promptly stamped her document before sliding to her side of the counter. “Keep that on you and take a seat. Wait for your number to be called.” he instructed; “I shall inform them that we have more, once I am finished with…the ones behind you…”

  Simply nodding, the foreigner took the document and departed from the counter to the relief of those waiting behind, finally allowed their turn. However, she stared at the document now in hand… Contemplating…

  Hmm… In retrospect, she probably should have…asked for more details and information considering that she had just paid for this entire process—with practically all of her remaining surplus coin, no less. Granted, she did not even have full required amount; that old mage had clearly broken his own directives… Nevertheless, she was now completely without coin to pay any of the next months’ rents, and there were no guarantees whatsoever that she would even make it through this so-called ‘selection process’.

  The foreigner sighed… Oh, whatever; she had not the choice but to follow along now.

  She began to eye around… So, then… Where to sit and wait… She pondered… So many chairs, so many seats, so many spots to pick. Frankly, she would hardly ever care for where exactly she ought to sit, yet…her indecisiveness suggested otherwise; indeed, she struggled to pick…

  Hmm… Ugh. This really should not be so difficult; she just needed to…

  Wait, her attention abruptly focused, having identified… A denizen, eyeing her… That same denizen from when she first entered too. Yet the foreigner’s staring back only caused this denizen to…immediately glance away, only for the eyeing to resume once the foreigner looked away… Only for the denizen to turn away once the foreigner stared back again…

  How peculiar. That denizen seemed nervous from this…constant dance of stares between them. They clearly wanted or were interested in something… Hmm… A desire to socialize, perhaps? Or… Hmm…

  Well, the foreigner herself was hardly one to care for socialization, not especially with denizens, yet…such social skills were best kept sharpened lest they rust. Thus, sighing yet again, the foreigner walked towards and approached, courteously taking a seat right next to the denizen…who promptly…tightened in quite the fluster.

  Nervous and anxious, this denizen was silent.

  The foreigner was silent in kind, though glanced from the corner of her attention’s spotlight.

  A female, obviously. This denizen had what the locals would describe as ‘light-maple’ colored hair that was fairly straight and had rather potent ‘hazel-amber’ eyes. Unlike many females of these lands observed so far, this denizen seemed to be almost at the foreigner’s height, albeit perhaps slightly taller.

  And it was obvious that this denizen girl was…glancing at her on and off, over and over, her figure tense as if…this outcome of the foreigner’s sitting next to her was…one unexpected.

  “You know that I can see that you are staring…” the foreigner finally spoke, breaking the silence.

  “Tah!” the denizen immediately flustered with a flinch; “S-s-sorry! I di-didn’t mean to! I just, your mask was just… A-an-and I couldn’t help but but” she blurtfully attempted to apologize, panicking seemingly… “…oh, I don’t know what I was doing, sorry…” Her voice…quieted, becoming mellow.

  “It is not necessary for apologizing…” the foreigner, however, courteously reassured… “You were simply with the curiosity. I…also stare…at the random things…some of the times…” Her voice became slightly more awkward.

  The denizen calmed, becoming less nervous to a point… She let out a deep relieving exhale; “It’s just… You don’t really see weird masquerade-wearing gals around here, so… I mean, you get a lot of strange faces here in Coastfield, but… Still, I couldn’t…help but stare…” she spoke, though… “A-and n-not, not in a bad way!” she rapidly clarified, flustering; “It’s a nice…mask; it’s…pretty…”

  “Oh.” the foreigner just…replied; “Well… Yes, you are right… There are not many like me in this…place…” Her reply was cordial, though it was evident she knew not how to maintain this ‘small-talk’.

  Indeed, shortly after, an odd silence ensued, one that persisted. More girls and ladies arrived and took their seats; many entering, many leaving… Some with joy and delight, others with tears and rage. Doors would open as numbers were called, going from one, two, to three, then four, and on.

  The denizen finally glanced at the foreigner again, eyes curious and evidently…thinking; “So… You’re number ten, rightly?”

  “Huh?” The foreigner, frankly, needed a moment to process that, having ‘zoned-out’… “Oh, yes. That is correct…” she confirmed; “And what of you?”

  “Oh, rightly… I am nine—my number, that’s my number… I mean… Nine…” she thus replied… “Cause I just had to be nine…” she more muttered than spoke, before…pausing, freezing practically, realizing… “Ahem…” She immediately went mute with an embarrassed fluster.

  “Uhuh…” the foreigner was slightly confused from the denizen’s behavioral display.

  Nevertheless, a silence resumed and time flowed.

  Though, more sooner than not, that denizen’s eyes came returning to the foreigner. She ahemed; “Anyway… Soo… Uhm… What are you—sorry, I mean to ask… Why are you trying to…get into the Collegium?”

  The foreigner did not ponder. ? Mah… ? she just said; “To get the job to pay the rent.” She was rather blunt.

  The denizen stared…blankly…for a moment, before her cheeks puffed with quite the giggle, seemingly humored; “S-sorry, sorry! This shouldn’t be surprising to me, but your delivery! It was just… I don’t even know, but I can’t help but giggle!” she remarked with quite the warm giggles.

  “And thus, what of you?” the foreigner asked in turn, glancing.

  The denizen’s giggles…simmered, her eyes withdrawing away somewhat, the tone in her breaths shifting… “Well… Hmm…” She needed a little moment; “I was always…kind of interested in magical theory and philosophy…and whatnot, so there’s that… And apparently my bloodline has affinities for a few schools of magic, so…there’s that too…” she replied, though with more…mellow affect; “And, well, I guess to also say, I’m in a cracked jar…”

  The foreigner tilted her head; “…a cracked jar?” What? The foreigner had to…wrap her head around this…apparent local idiomatic phrase of sorts…

  “Yeah… A very nasty cracked jar…” the denizen mellowly spoke; “I am honestly really terrified and…nervous… I can hardly think straight—I really want to get in, you know? But… I just… There hasn’t been any mage or spellcaster or…anyone of that sort in my bloodline for…ages… So, I don’t even know how strong my affinities would be, too much blood has been diluted…” she lamented, indeed… Her eyes drifted away and down…

  Hmm… The foreigner peered somewhat… This denizen seemed nervous and fearful and sorrowful, yet… Even so, something about this denizen’s affect and behavior…felt rather off to her… Though, she could not put any finger onto it, but it was as if…

  Abruptly, the foreigner gently tapped her own head… Clearly, she was just overthinking—a thing best not to do with denizens, of all things, lest she become lost in the absurdity of their abstracted finite existences.

  Indeed, the foreigner saw a denizen that was…perturbed and…turbulent on the inside; she will presume exactly thus. Although, then the next inquiry would be…how to resolve this apparent instability? Denizens had not the benefit of automated encoded affect regulations, thus…

  Hmm… “You said that you are scared about this ‘affinity’ for the ‘magics’ because of this…diluted blood, no?” she abruptly inquired.

  “Huh?” The denizen, however, had seemingly been adrift; “Oh, rightly…” Her attention quickly returned, “Yes, yes… Sorry, I was…lost in my head, I guess… But, yes…”

  “Hmm…” the foreigner began to cogitate… “I will not pretend that I understand with the perfection…of what the ‘affinity’ means…” Though, she certainly had her deductions; “But… From where I…come, we do not…see things through this ‘blood’… That is not how these magics and…things are passed. Rather, it is from the… The… How do I…” She needed to… “… ‘soul’? Yes. ‘Soul’, that is the good word for it. It is from the soul that these things are…not given, but…‘influenced’?—yes, influenced… And more the soul of the parent, or the… ehm… Word…word…” thus she began to so explain, or rather…attempt to.

  The denizen, however, tilted her head gently with curiosity, listening…rather attentively, much calmer than before.

  “… ‘mother’, yes, the ‘mother’…” The foreigner finally found the word; “The soul of the mother influences the soul of the…child, somewhat, and these influences…carry on…and do not really dilute, or they kind of do, but they do not go away…and, in truth, the less you learn…the magics, the less complex…the influences are and that means…the older ones…carry over longer…and are not ‘diluted’ by…the newer ones…”

  The denizen was nodding along as her mind attempted to…make sense of the foreigner’s rather accented explanation.

  Even so, the foreigner inferred that…this was perhaps not going anywhere; “Ahem… Basically: because there…has been none of the mages in your…line of the bloods for…the very long time, that means that these…uhm…powers, they may be less diluted and more… Potent? Yes. Potent. Because there is not the many of…the other stuff to add to the…messiness and make the influences more…weird…” She sounded like an idiot, even to herself; “I give the apologies, my grasp of this…tongue is still not good…” She was embarrassed, perhaps vaguely more genuinely so…

  Indeed, the foreigner had not only attempted to condense and primitivize an incredibly complex, multi-faceted, and highly dynamic affair, but she had also been doing so in a language not any of her primaries.

  However, the denizen stared blankly, a smile suddenly entering her face… “Pfft!” She began to laugh a rather sweet-sounding laugh; “You—I mean no-no offense—but you—the way you speak is-is something! It’s charming in its own way!” her laughing giggles cordially remarked… Although, she quickly settled down when others’ eyes began to so glare, their peaceful silence having been…disturbed. “Ahem… Sorry…” She blushed, embarrassed.

  Having quieted, the denizen’s attention returned to the foreigner… “No, but… Yeah, your…way with words aside, uhm… What you said was…interesting, I guess… Even if I struggled to follow a bit, but… The idea that…blood has nothing to do with it, or at least is not as important… I guess that made me…feel comforted, so…I suppose it helped…” Her warm voice began to drift more awkward, her affect shifting a bit… “I don’t really…like my…job too much; so, maybe…this could be a way out, depends on what happens from here…” she more openly spoke.

  Abruptly, a door near yet afar sprang open as a rather tired mage stepped out, a ledger of numbers in his hands. “Alrightly…” His peering eyes scouted the room around, instantly noticing; “Oh Gods’ sacred… How many, now? Ten, twenty, thirty… Hugh” he grumbled, exhausted from the sight alone; “…now let’s see—oh, we’ll have to do two at a time—nine and ten! Come, come! Let’s get this over with!”

  The denizen looked at the foreigner; “…well, I guess we are…testing buddies!” She stood up, a smile on her face.

  “Thus, it seems…” the foreigner replied cordially, standing up in kind.

  Thus, the two began to head way side-by-side. Yet, as they did so, the denizen’s eyes continued to tacitly peer at the foreigner walking next and near… She felt weird, indeed—unnecessarily so. A heated sensation invaded within, one that made any staring evasive… “Oh, Raven Mother, how it is so stupidly easy for me to fall…” thus such quite breaths so muttered, unheard.

  Ah… How cute, indeed

  Yet utterly irrelevant to those hearing ears

  And their plans at be…

  Keep a watchful eye, little bird.