"Time magic, "Professor Ogg informed us in a vaguely disgusted tone. "Walks the line between the vaguely practical and the absurdly theoretical." He followed with a halfhearted drawing of a stick figure running around an hourglass.
"Are you following this at all?" Sylas whispered. His breath was unexpectedly warm, and I had to fight the urge to pull away.
"Not in the slightest," I grounded out. Being civil, friendly even, to Sylas Thorne, was not the worst thing in the world. I was a big enough person to admit that. But I didn't like how close he'd gotten so quickly. It had been only a handful of days since I watched Sylas spar with Iroha, and a little over a week since the two of us had our brief excursion in the library.
Sylas reminded me a fair bit of a lamb who had lost his mother one spring. Da had made me take care of it and the blasted thing had taken to following me around everywhere, even insisting on sleeping at the foot of my bed. It had been rather awkward that winter when our larder had gotten sparse and we'd had to eat him.
Poor lonely lamb had wound up making a delicious stew.
Sylas hummed before looking back at his textbook and flipping through it.
"Mages have traditionally theorized that pursuing the Narratives of entities associated with the concept of time would be the most effective way to achieve true temporal manipulation," Professor Ogg sighed again. "Can anyone tell me why this is an ineffective idea?"
I instinctively shrank back into my seat and prayed to whatever god that would listen to me that I would not be called on. I didn't especially like Professor Ogg, particularly after that first day of class and my opinion of the man had not improved as the weeks had ticked by. Also, I hadn't done the reading for class.
Professor Ogg's eyes landed on someone.
"Miss Jhones?"
A girl stood up a few tables behind us and Sylas and I craned our heads back to look at her as she answered.
Bethan Jhones was one of those people I knew in passing, but I didn't care enough about to bother to learn anything about her. All I really knew about her was her name, that she wore glasses, and had curly brown hair that reached her shoulders. Oh, and she did better than me in class, but in all fairness, most people seemed to.
"It's because you can't pursue the Narratives of gods, right?" she said, twitching a bit under the collective gaze of the class.
Professor Ogg clicked his tongue. "A decent enough answer for our purposes, but an inadequate one overall. Take your seat, Miss Jhones."
She seemed all too willing to oblige, and our collective attention returned to Professor Ogg, who had resumed pacing the front row.
"Narratives associated with beings of higher planes of existence; gods, angels, demons or what have you, are traditionally considered too dangerous to delve into by Western traditions of sorcery. Though you would find that to be a very different story if you ventured into the Egyptian Theocracy."
Sylas tensed beside me, and I fought the urge to look over at him.
"The stories of gods and demons are all-consuming, and more often than not will drive a mage insane if he tries to use them in his spells, or it will simply kill them in an overall dramatic manner."
Professor Ogg sighed, then frowned.
"What were we talking about before this? I can't seem to remember how we landed on the topic of Godly Narratives."
"Time magic, sir," a helpful student piped up.
"Time magic," Ogg muttered. "Bunch of theoretical nonsense."
And so, our class resumed and went on like that until the period ended.
I paused after gathering up my things to wait on Sylas to do the same. He stared at the chalkboard Professor Ogg had vacated and gone off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't teaching. Personally, I wouldn't find it surprising to learn the man spent his spare time kicking puppies or something.
Sylas continued to stare at the chalkboard as the rest of our classmates left and it didn't take long for me to feel a bit uncomfortable. Part of me knew I shouldn't say anything or interrupt whatever he was thinking about. Speaking only when spoken to had proven to be a rather useful survival tactic over the course of my life. But there was another part of me, niggling and annoying, that made me want to make sure Sylas Thorne, of all people, was doing alright.
"So…" I said, dragging the word out. "What do you suppose is for dinner tonight?"
Sylas blinked and looked at me. "What?" asked said.
"Dinner?" I offered, then I sighed. "Sorry, you just… seemed to have a lot on your mind."
"Yeah," Sylas said, and he finally started packing his things. "Sorry."
"Is everything okay?" God, I am awful at this. Should I ask if he wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him? I wondered if I sounded as uncomfortable with it as I felt.
Sylas finished packing his bag and gave me a tight smile. "I'm fine, Theo, really."
He didn't sound fine, and I almost wanted to tell Sylas again that he could talk to me if he needed to, but the words stuck in my throat and by the time we walked out of class, it felt like the moment had passed.
Then I'd noticed a pair of girls, marked as members of Lion Hall by the golden feline embroidered on their coats, watching us as we walked by. They both gave Sylas smiles, and a spike of something unpleasant roiled in my gut. I'd loaned Sylas the grimoire we'd pilfered from the library to show off to the Lion Hallers in exchange for help with translating the blasted thing. It had clearly helped him get back in the Lion Hallers' good graces, but I wasn't sure what that entailed.
And I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out.
***
"Say," Sylas said. "Have any of you considered what Hall you might want to join?"
The question caught me off guard, and looking around our little group tucked away in our little corner of the library, I could see I wasn't the only one.
"It is something I have given a degree of thought to," Iroha said carefully. "I have wondered which ones might accept a… someone like myself."
The word 'foreigner' hung in the air, but no one addressed it. Iroha had not disclosed to any of us why she was learning magic in the Empire as opposed to back in Shang, but it clearly wasn't to cultivate any political allies among the British nobility. We were at war with Shang for a bit, right after the Unification Wars ended. Personally, I did not really understand what exactly happened, other than the fighting had stopped abruptly and began trading with them. But based on what I'd heard from Lord Woodman and seen with the kids here at school, there wasn't much love lost between the British aristocracy and the mages of Shang. Most students avoided Iroha like the plague, and she seemed only eager to return the favor. There was a part of me that couldn't figure out exactly why she was so willing to be chummy with us, but I'd never had the impulse to dig into it much.
I thought I could understand a bit of what it was like to be among people who were not your own, who might even despise you, and the desire to find what connections, what camaraderie you could in a situation like that.
"Well," Mason said thoughtfully. "I was thinking about trying for Rabbit Hall. That's where my parents met, you know. Wonderful story. Apparently Mama was trying to learn how to summon a demon and, well, you know how that goes—"
"I was hoping to go for Lion or Snake Hall," Rosamund cut in, evidently not in the mood for one of Mason's ramblings. "I have some family connections in both."
I didn't like where it was going, and the group's eyes turned toward me. Mason looked expectant, and not at all put out by Rosamund's interruption. Rosamund seemed eager, leaning forward slightly. Iroha was quiet, watching the lot of us. And Sylas looked at me with a hopeful expression on his face that made me feel like a real arsehole.
"I'll probably go with whoever will take me," I said.
Those answers were evidently ones Sylas was hoping for.
"I'm not sure if any of you have heard about this," Sylas said. "But Lion Hall has been holding a sort of pre-rush for some of us first years."
Iroha and Rosamund both nodded, and Mason looked a bit confused.
"But I thought rush did not begin until the month after next?" he said. "Surely whoever told you that about Lion Hall had it backward, old sport."
"No," Sylas said. "I mean, Lion Hall is already taking applicants for potential members?"
Mason cocked his head to the side like a sort of confused bird. "But rush doesn't begin until November," Mason said slowly. "That's when all the Halls will look at applicants."
"Yes, but Lion Hall is looking at people early," Sylas said, and I couldn't help but note the annoyance creeping into his voice. It was oddly satisfying to know something could actually annoy Sylas Thorne.
"But none of the Halls can start recruiting applicants early," Mason said.
"Mason," I said, either out of pity for Sylas or the rest of us for having to listen to their back and forth. "Lion Hall is breaking the rules because they want to have first pick over the freshmen for possible members, and because it's also a way for them to fuck over the other Halls."
I waited to see if Mason understood, and the dumbfounded look on his face seemed to confirm that. Thank God in heaven.
"Well, I'm not sure if I would put it that… way," Sylas said. "But Lion Hall is hoping to get the best and brightest from this year's incoming class, and I was one of those selected for pre-rush."
He stopped talking, looking nervous, and I briefly wondered if it was supposed to be some sort of long drawn-out boast. The thought left my mind as soon as it entered, though. I was fairly certain that Sylas was incapable of boasting about himself. More often than not, he wore an uncertain rabbit look, not unlike the one painted on his face.
"The… uh, upperclassmen at Lion Hall have asked some of us if there is anyone else in our year who they should consider to join us in pre-rush," Sylas finally forced the words out. "And I was wondering if, erm, any of you would be interested?" His voice rose an octave at the end of the question.
There was a momentary pause as Sylas's words sunk in. Thankfully, I was not the first to respond to them.
"Really?" Rosamund said, leaning forward with eager gleaming eyes. "I would most certainly be interested. Lion Hall? Lion Hall?"
Iroha had the decency to at least pretend to take a minute to think about it before answering, and I couldn't help but admire her for that.
"I would not be averse to it," she said carefully. "So long as you are certain they would, in fact, be open to accepting… us."
"I—" I wasn't sure exactly how I felt about it. My few stray observations of Cecil Baldwin and other members of Lion Hall had been both few and memorably unpleasant. On the other hand, having the backing of such a powerful Hall would make any additional tasks given to me by Lord Woodman much easier. On the other, other hand, I couldn't help but see that look on Sylas's face and how damn pitifully hopeful it was.
It made me feel guilty, and guilt was a feeling I had found to be utterly useless. "I would be interested," I said finally. "So long as the rest of you are, as well."
I looked at Mason, who had a slight frown on his face. There was part of me, a nigglingly desperate part, that hoped he would put up some sort of protest about "It being rather unfair that Lion Hall wants to poach all the best students they can and I shan't be a part of it." If he did, I would be more than happy to jump on Mason's bandwagon and use it as an excuse not to join in their joining Lion Hall business.
Mason chose to disappoint me.
"Well," Mason said. "If the rest of you are in, then I suppose I am as well. Friends stick together, right?"