Inside the potions room, Professor Willow wrote her notes onto a roll of parchment. Her brother, Professor Cedrick, did the same, though he used his spells to write it. “That will be all for today,” he said, tossing a gold coin to Jon.
Counting today’s, Jon now had fifty gold Centarii in his possession, half a platinum Crown. While not nearly as much as the sort of funds nobles had access to —Deon once spent the same amount during a single night at the brothel— it was enough that he could start thinking about complementing his cultivation resources. More mana potions, for instance. Or maybe he should try and save it for better equipment, namely armor. Whatever he decided upon, though, it would have to be bought somewhere other than the academy shops, where the prices weren’t as prohibitively expensive.
After receiving his payment for the evening, Jon remained where he stood, staring at his professors.
“If you’re going to ask something, then hurry and do it rather than standing there like a fool,” Professor Cedrick commanded, already annoyed.
From the many session working together, Jon had already understood that the man had little patience for anything unrelated to work. “What are you expecting to discover from this research?” he asked, going straight to the point.
“Nothing. We would love to discover something grand like how to circumvent the problem of elemental affinities. So that anyone can cast any elemental spell. Or maybe identify the theorized eighth element, the one that opposes lightning. More realistically, though, we’ll likely gather a lot of data for future reference, and that will be it.”
“My brother may be a little blunt about it, but he is not wrong. Researchers rarely, if ever, discover what they intend to. The lucky ones may instead discover something marginally related to the subject. For instance, we are almost certain that your elemental spells cause opposite effects on the flow of mana. If you ever manage to cast them both together, it could block the flow altogether, creating an effect akin to a magic dampening field.”
“In theory,” Professor Cedrick added, promptly squashing Jon’s expectations before they could form. “In practice, the spells might simply annul each other and fizzle out into nothing.”
“But let’s try to keep an open mind. Besides, we’ll only be able to test it when...”
“When I become an Archmage, I know.” Jon had lost count of how many times the word had passed through his mind just today alone. It was like an eternal mantra that intensified the longer he spent at the academy. “By the way, why do you even need me to help in this research? Professor Cedrick is attuned to darkness, and Professor Willow to light. Why even give me money to do what you’re already capable of?”
“Because there are minute distinctions between each individual’s spellcasting. Two spellcasters of equal cultivation and affinity cause slightly different disturbances in the flow of mana. For our research, we need to make sure that the data is not contaminated by external factors.” Professor Cedrick locked eyes with Jon before he could make another question, his brown eyes as still as stone. “Now enough with the questions for today.”
Jon didn’t argue, already having depleted his professor's short supply of patience. It would take a few days before he could try to glean any more information, so he bowed his head and turned to leave.
“Bye, Jon,” said Professor Willow as he walked away. “See you again tomorrow.”
The Sunrise Building was devoid of students, almost the same for the streets outside. At this time, most of them had already had dinner and retired to their quarters, including his roommates, presumably. Jon ate his fill at the feasting hall and considered what to do next. Tomorrow was Solday, the last day of the week, meaning that he had no classes to attend. The library never closed, so maybe he could stay up all night studying ways of forcing a breakthrough. As a last resort, that is.
He ultimately decided against it, though, as going too long without rest was rarely ever productive. Better to start tomorrow with fresh eyes, so he instead headed back to the dormitories, arriving just as the bells struck nine. Neither Nevil nor Aeron were anywhere to be seen, with Deon being the only one in the room.
His roommate looked surprised to see him. Lying in bed and covered in his sheets, he greeted, “Hi, Jon. I thought you would only be arriving after nine like usual.”
“It’s already nine, didn’t you hear the bells?” Jon took off his robe and left it at the coat hanger by the entrance. There was a strange scent in the air that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Oh, I must have dozed off.” Despite his words, Deon’s breathing was heavy. “Nevil and Aeron went out with Bella to watch a play at the theater. I heard it’s a hilarious comedy. Not even the duke could contain his laughter while watching it. If you leave now, you might catch it before the end of the fourth act.”
Jon took his boots off and sat in bed. “You know that I don’t care for theater all that much,” he answered. Besides, there was something about the scent that kept him thinking about it. It was a mix of perfume with sweat and something else, something strong and slightly sweet. It almost smelled like… Jon shot to his feet. “What were you doing?”
“I told you, I was sleeping,” Deon said, trying to act natural.
Jon could see through the pretense. “By yourself?” He circled around Nevil’s bed and walked closer to Deon’s. There were a bunch of clothes by its feet. A pair of breeches, a shirt, a doublet, and underpants. Then there were the two robes, the black dress, and the lace underwear. Jon failed to notice it when he walked in but, now that he was looking for it, there was a large prominence in the sheets, as if someone else was lying underneath. Either that or his roommate had drastically increased in size in less than a day. “Stand up,” he ordered.
“Right now? I just woke up, and my legs are still aslee—”
Not in the mood for Deon’s bullshit, Jon grabbed the bedsheet.
“Wait, I’m unpresentable,” Deon pleaded in vain.
“That you are.” With a yank, Jon pulled the sheets off, revealing a woman’s naked form lying on top of Deon’s. She had her head against his chest, raven-black hair sprawled on top of it. It was Elina. “Are you fucking—” he paused to control his voice, lest the neighbors be alerted by the noise.
“We were,” Deon said with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“Jesus Christ, what is your problem? We could all get in trouble because of this stunt of yours.” Jon bent down to pick up the clothes off the floor and threw them on the two. “Get dressed. Now.”
“Will you settle down for a moment? It’s not a big deal, and you look about to explode. That’s why I tried to hide it, because I knew you would overreact.” Deon sat up, covering himself with nothing but the robe. He nudged Elina who had already put the dress back on; she saved time by crumpling her underwear into the robe’s pocket. “Darling, don’t you have any friend who might find him attractive? He really needs to unwind.”
Elina smiled, which only added to Jon’s anger. “Who knows. Maybe one of them would be interested in something more exotic.”
Jon’s heart was about to give out at this point. He walked out into the balcony before he did or said something he might regret. Every day. Every single day, he had to worry about his inability to break through. As if that weren’t enough, he also had to deal with his roommates. Blabbermouth Nevil, bellyacher Aeron, and debauched Deon.
Deon followed him outside, still naked underneath his robe. “Relax, nothing is going to happen.”
“You don’t know that. If anyone finds her in our room, it could be grounds for us to be punished. Maybe even expelled. All because you needed to get your cock wet.” Jon took a deep breath, hoping the cold night air would help him calm down. It didn’t. “How did she even get here, anyway? There are guards watching downstairs.”
“I just slipped them a few coins and they all looked the other way.”
“Bribes. Great.”
“Deon is right,” Elina said as she appeared at the door, slippers on one hand, “you do worry too much.” She walked barefoot up to Deon and kissed him, her hand against his naked chest.
Jon looked away as the hand slid down, instead focusing on the empty streets. The lack of people was good fortune, else someone might eventually witness the spectacle happening. Just as he thought that, though, a pair of guards on patrol circled around the dormitory building, walking closer toward them. All they had to do was raise their heads to find the trio standing at the balcony. “Deon, there are guards coming,” he whispered.
Rather than hiding, Deon only closed his robe. “Nice evening,” he called out to the guards with a wave, acting with complete naturality.
They were too far for Jon to say for certain, but he was pretty sure that it was surprise that he saw on their faces. Then, rather than doing anything about it, the two continued on their way, acting as if they saw nothing.
“See?” Deon asked, a smug look on his face. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Did you bribe them too?”
“Obviously. Even if I hadn’t, I doubt they would do anything about it. The academy may be open to people of all classes, but its focus is obviously the noble scions. And the guards won't risk angering a noble if they can avoid it." After displaying his privilege, Deon said goodbye to Elina with a peck on her lips and a slap on the butt.
Elina swaggered to the balustrade and vaulted over it, her bare feet on the ledge. Then she jumped down from the balcony, seemingly without a care for the height, her flapping dress, or the fact that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Jon got another view of her naked body before she disappeared down below. The woman seemed oblivious to the concept of shame, which made her a perfect match for Deon.
Jon sighed. He turned back to the room when Deon called out.
“Hey Jon, what is Jesus Christ?”
“What?”
“The thing you said before, Jesus Christ. What is it? Is it a curse word? Or maybe some desert god that you pray to?”
Jon was too tired to even start. “Goodnight, Deon. Please don’t bring any more women here.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
