Registration

While Marcus and Annabelle admired the grand hall, shining like a cave of wonders, they were joined by a young woman with a warm smile

"Oh, Helen, it's good to have you back in Cartagena. Many letters arrived in your absence. Did your stay in Niers go well?"

"Hello, Mathilde. It was fine. Two children were revealed this year in Niers."

"Two? Well! What good news! Hello, children! I'm Mathilde, a clerk at the Imperial Academy of Magic. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to come and see me or one of my colleagues. We're here for that. As you can see, it's a bit crowded this morning. Mostly new enrollees. Please wait over there; we'll proceed with your enrollment shortly."

"Mathilde, can you give me my mail, please? You said there were a lot?"

"Naturally. I've set it aside for you. I'll fetch it immediately."

The very young woman with chestnut hair tied up in a high bun and large round glasses headed towards a finely decorated solid wood cabinet with engravings and took out a stack of envelopes. With a step, thanks to the magic of the wind, she returned to Helen Capu de Brouges.

"Here you go," said the clerk, handing over the stack, which seemed to contain about fifteen envelopes.

Smells like flowers...

Marcus's gaze turned to the envelopes, suspecting that one or more of them had been scented.

As Mathilde handed the envelopes to Helen, she observed more closely the two children who stood out in this splendid setting. While she found the boy ordinary although he had a fairly handsome face, she couldn't help but have stars in her eyes as she looked more closely at the young Annabelle, who had a doll-like face.

"How cute you are! Hug!"

Annabelle could do nothing and was smothered by the young clerk. Her head disappeared into the generous chest of the young woman, whose cheeks had turned as red as a tomato. Panicked, Annabelle waved her arms like an insect caught in a spider's web.

Mathilde had lost all credibility in Marcus's eyes. Like Helen, he rolled his eyes without saying anything. Helen Capu de Brouges quickly scanned the envelopes, just to see who the sender was and possibly the crude subject of the letter. When she was done, she tore three letters into small pieces and let them fall to the floor.

"Huh?"

"It's nothing. Um, tell me instead, wasn't that statue there when I left? Am I mistaken?"

Marcus could tell that Helen Capu de Brouges was trying to change the subject, but that didn't matter to him. He simply followed the direction of the magus's gaze and looked at a statue as white as snow, standing two meters tall. It depicted a naked woman barely covered by a long cloth and holding a cup in her left hand. She seemed very sad and yet very determined.

"Oh, you noticed? Indeed, it was delivered two days ago. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Very beautiful, yes. For some reason, I find this statue more beautiful than the others, although I notice some flaws. It's strange."

"You have an eye for it! As expected of an earth magus! It's because this statue was made by a non-mage."

"A non-mage?!" exclaimed the magus with astonishment. "How is that possible?!"

"It's a very skillful young artist with his hands who made it from a huge block of white marble. He made it in a year. An earth magus can make a statue in an hour, but not of this quality. You're right in saying that there are imperfections, but that's precisely what makes it so beautiful. Extreme attention has been paid by its creator to every limb, every curve, every strand of hair to make it as realistic and sublime as it is."

"Incredible. But how did he do it without magic?"

"He makes his tools himself. Most of them are existing tools, but he adapted them to his needs. If you want to meet him, it's possible. He's working on the fresco above our heads."

"Sculptor, painter... Can he do anything else?"

"Well, he draws very well too."

The young woman then blushed to the point that Marcus and Helen had no trouble guessing what her subject of study had been.

"Ahem, I think that's it. We're going to proceed with your enrollments. Come over here, my dear. What's your name?"

"A-Annabelle."

"Oh, what a lovely name. How old are you, tell me?"

"I'm twelve."

"Twelve years old?!"

The clerk looked incredulously at the child and then at the magus accompanying her. As Helen nodded to confirm, Mathilde noted on the file the number 12. It was indeed extremely rare to have a child awakened at this age.

"Put your hand on the crystal ball. Very well, very well. Oh, fire! A very powerful element with many possibilities! Do you have a surname?"

"N-no, I don't have one," Annabelle replied honestly.

"Very well. You come from Niers, is that right?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young girl confirmed with a gentle nod.

"Noted. As you have certainly understood by now, you are going to enter a very large school. Here, students are treated equally. You will live here for the duration of your studies, but it is possible to get a better room and servants. Um, I suppose you don't have any money?"

The little girl shook her head to indicate that she did not.

"M-madam, can I be in the same room as big brother Marcus?"

"Big brother Marcus?"

She quickly understood that she was talking about the young man with the suspicious and inquisitive look. He had been staring at everyone who passed near him since he entered the building.

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible. Boys and girls are separated to avoid... incidents."

The girl didn't understand everything, but she understood that she wouldn't be able to be with Marcus, the only person she knew and trusted in this unknown city. Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and Mathilde started to panic.

"Oh! No, no, no! Don't cry! I mean, it's true that you can't sleep in the same room, but you can still see each other! Maybe you'll even end up in the same class!

"I-is that true?" asked the girl timidly, raising her childlike face.

"Yes! There are ten classes in the first year, so it's possible!"

It was easy to see on Annabelle's face that all she understood was that it was possible. She didn't seem to grasp that there was only a one in ten chance of it happening. After asking a few more questions about the young lady, Mathilde turned to Marcus. In less than twenty minutes, his file was completed and registered.

They were then escorted to another room, whose beauty was no less than the main hall, to get uniforms and the necessary equipment for their education. It was at this moment that they crossed paths with a tall, broad-shouldered man who stood out from the crowd. His attire and aura were nothing like the clerks Marcus had seen. His face was firm, his eyes gray like steel, his nose slightly beak-like, and he sported an imposing gray beard. Marcus and the man exchanged a glance for a fraction of a second as they passed each other.

While Marcus redirected his gaze to what was happening in front of him, the man in his fifties turned around to look at him one last time as the group was already moving away. He stood still for a moment in the corridor adorned with a dozen paintings before heading towards the offices, completely ignoring the line.

A clerk straightened up as soon as he saw him approaching.

"Your Grace! Can I be of any assistance?"

"I hope so. Can you tell me who those two young people who just left are?"

"Oh? Um, let me consult their files. Here you go, Your Grace. Annabelle, twelve years old, and Marcus, fifteen years old."

"Hmm? Twelve years old? Show me those files."

The clerk promptly handed over the two confidential files of the new enrollees without hesitation. The man opened Marcus's file and read it in silence.

"Make a copy of this file for me," ordered the man, handing the file back to the young clerk. "Discreetly, of course."

"I-Immediately, Your Grace!"

Meanwhile, Annabelle was cursing at a dressmaker who was trying to make her wear a soft corset. Naturally, after twelve years, her entire life, spent wearing only clothes to cover herself, she couldn't be familiar with fashion. She had only just come into contact with this field and already hated it. Her small voice could be heard echoing down the hallway. She proclaimed that she would rather wear no corset at all or dress like the boys than wear this thing.

As a little monkey, she ran around everywhere to escape the clutches of the dressmaker, who eventually caught up with her after a great effort.

When she left the room, she looked like a little porcelain doll. Marcus, who had always been serious, almost burst out laughing when he saw her like that. His expression changed abruptly when he was informed that it was his turn.