Despite Dreyer thinking that it would be a few days before we heard anything, Dreyer received a letter the very next day.

“It’s from the dean.” Dreyer says, reading through it. “She wants to meet you in person.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask.

Dreyer shrugs. “She’s probably just curious, but whatever the reason, it seems she’ll be the one making the final decision on your enrolment.”

I guess so. “When does she want to meet?”

“This evening.”

The academy is large, with many different areas and rooms. Some of them I can see, but most of them are blocked from my view. Dreyer’s office is actually one of these places: from the outside, I can’t see anything inside, but if I’m inside the room itself, I can see both the inside and outside. The result of some magic I couldn’t begin to fathom, I’m sure.

Another one of these places is the dean’s office, so as Dreyer hikes up yet another set of stairs, I have no clue what lies ahead.

“I really wish they built this tower a bit lower.” Dreyer huffs. “I have trouble climbing all these stairs, and I’m a squirrel beastman. Must be torture on some people.”

At about the width of two people abreast, the staircase spirals up the interior of the tower from the base to what I assume is the top without a single room in between. The tower is large enough that the staircase leaves a circle of empty space a few metres wide in the centre all the way up in what would be a horrendous safety hazard if not for a sturdy railing along the edge of the staircase.

After about half an hour of climbing, a thoroughly exhausted Dreyer lifts a hand and knocks at the door. After a brief moment of silence, the door swings silently inwards to reveal that there is not only nobody behind it, but also another staircase. This one, however, only has a dozen or so stairs, and Dreyer quickly reaches the top.

Once there, I am finally able to see what lies within it – or, more accurately, without it. This is indeed the top of the tower, but it isn’t at all how I had imagined it would be. Rather than a room, this is a platform, open to the elements on all sides but the bottom. We are mere centimetres above cloud level, so it almost appears as if you could step off of the platform and onto a fluffy surface that extends for kilometres.

The platform itself is mostly unadorned with furniture, featuring only a large desk with a few chairs positioned around it. At the edge of the platform behind the desk, there are a pair of doors that do not appear to lead to anywhere.

Sitting behind the desk is a woman dressed in a robe similar to everyone else in the academy, but she seems almost… incorporeal. Her body looks like it’s flowing, as if it were made of water. That aside, she’s bright, extremely so. How much mana do you have to have to look like that?

‘Please, Dreyer, take a seat.’ The dean says, gesturing gracefully with a hand. ‘You must be tired. Tea? Coffee?’

Dreyer slumps into the proffered chair, placing me on the desk in front of him. ‘Tea, thanks Kleio. If I have coffee I won’t be able to sit still.’

“Kleio?” I ask.

“She’s not fond of formalities.” Dreyer replies.

‘Indeed, I find them to be a terrible waste of time.’ Kleio agrees. She gestures, and the door behind her opens, a now familiar vortex of mana swirling behind it. A teapot drifts out of the portal, seemingly unsupported, and the door shuts behind it as a thick tendril of cloud twists into the pot, filling it up.

‘You can intercept telepathy?’ Dreyer asks, surprised. ‘You’re a psychic?’

‘I dabbled, once. I was never talented, but I did manage to learn a few things.’ Kleio shrugs lightly and looks down at me. ‘It’s true, then. A living fork? Intriguing.’

‘Yes, I’ve never met anyone quite like him.’ Dreyer replies.

With another gesture, a needle, thread, what looks like some scraps of leather, a small knife and some leaves come drifting through the door and onto the desk. The leaves deposit themselves into the now boiling water of the teapot, while the needle, thread and knife begin work stitching something together out of the leather.

‘Nor have I.’ Kleio states, sliding one of the desk’s drawers open and retrieving two small objects from within before once again sliding it closed. Picking the now finished thingamajig out of the air, Kleio lifts me and fits it around my tines, inserting the two objects into it and securing them there with flaps. With a small tug, she tightens the whole thing onto me and ties it into place.

Dreyer looks at my new apparel with confusion. ‘What’s that?’

‘His uniform, so to speak, but also a tool.’ Kleio regards her handiwork for a moment, nodding slightly. ‘The magical tool above you is called the eye of clairvoyance. It is normally used as a component in scouting and remotely controlled magical tools, but it will work just the same here to give you sight and hearing. Just channel your mana into it through where it touches you.’

…Seriously? I try it immediately, channelling a trickle of mana into the object on my head. A small portion of my vision lights up with colours and shadows.

‘A little more.’ But I still can’t hear it when Kleio speaks, so I increase the flow of mana just a little bit more. “There we are.”

Holy crepe, I actually heard something. I can hear! I can see! I can… Woah, that’s a little weird. Where the vision from mana sight and from the eye of clairvoyance overlap, I can see both of them at once, overlayed upon each other.

On one hand I see a bright mass of mana in the shape of a woman where Kleio sits, twisting like currents of water… No, air. On the other, I see a slightly transparent woman whose skin is moving and curling like it’s made of mist instead of flesh.

As I’m enjoying my new senses, Kleio speaks again. “Below you is what is known as the ventriloquist’s aid. It will let you speak aloud when you channel mana into it. It is quite similar to how you speak using telepathy, so you will be able to use it without a problem.”

Seriously!?

“Well, this certainly wasn’t what I was expecting coming up here, but this is a nice surprise.” I say, almost surprised by the sound of my own voice. “Thanks for this. From what you said, can I assume that my enrolment is successful?”

Huh. Am I speaking another language now using psychic translation, or is English called common here?

“That’s quite alright. Yes, I approved your enrolment. There are very few at your age with skills similar to what you possess. How is it that you came to train them to such a standard at such an early stage in your life?” Kleio asks curiously – my god, that’s something I missed tremendously: Intonation!

I can finally detect sarcasm again! Hallelujah!

“Well, I can’t sleep, and as you can see there’s not exactly any way for me to do the hobbies or general social interactions others might use to pass the time.” I reply wryly. “I could either watch the days pass by or experiment with mana, and the world just isn’t as interesting without colour.”

“You sound as if you speak from experience.” Kleio notes, raising her eyebrows.

“I do. I used to be human, believe it or not, then somehow or other I died, then next thing I knew I was a fork.” I explain. “I’ll admit I had some dark days back then, but parts of it have grown on me.”

“Reincarnation? Such a thing lies solely in the hands of Gods.” Kleio muses. “Which world were you from? Odwia?”

“No, you probably haven’t heard of the world I was from.” I say. I haven’t heard the name ‘Earth’ even mentioned since I was born into this world, not as a proper noun at least. “I was from Earth.”

“Earth… Earth… I seem to recall…” Looking towards the sky, Kleio seems to remember something. “Yes, I believe I went there once. It was a strange world, one without the system, mana – or anything else, for that matter.”

“That’s it, alright.” I say, surprised.

“I cannot imagine that the Gods would be interested in a world such as Earth, nor why one would choose to reincarnate you as a fork, of all things.” Kleio shakes her head, perplexed. “I must admit that I have never even heard of your kind before today. Are there others?”

“No.” I reply. “Just me.”

“You sound sure.” Kleio notes.

“I have a title called progenitor that states that I’m the first of my species. Given that I can’t exactly reproduce, unless that God’s been making more like me, I’m the only living fork there is and ever will be.” I state frankly.

The door opens to let two teacups and saucers drift through. I see the barest glimpse of a room beyond the doors before they close. The teapot dips, pouring its contents into the cups, which drift to sit before Kleio and Dreyer. They each take a sip.

“While I would gladly hear more about yourself, I am afraid I have little time left in my schedule, and we must get down to business.” Kleio sets her teacup down with a light clink. “Dreyer, my apologies but I will have to hear of your adventures another time.”

“No problem. I’ll need to write up my experiences first anyway – my most recent notes got burned up on Ignis.” Dreyer says with resignation.

Kleio nods to him, then looks back at me. “Those magic tools have been lent to you, not given as gifts. If they are damaged or destroyed, you must reimburse the academy, and upon leaving the academy you must return them.”

“Sounds fair to me.” I agree. Hopefully by the time I leave, I won’t need them anymore.

“You qualify for a scholarship, and your first semester will be paid for.” Kleio continues. “Furthermore, as I have determined you are a legitimate applicant, you will be granted two thousand Rho.”

“Rho?” I ask.

Dreyer replies, “The currency used on most of Arbadak.”

“Upon the completion of your first semester you will be assessed to determine whether you will continue to be eligible for the scholarship.” Kleio explains. “Apart from that… Do you have a residence?”

“He’s staying with me right now.” Dreyer says.

“Very well.” Kleio takes another sip of tea. “Do you have any questions, Gerald?”

“When does the semester begin?” I ask.

Kleio smiles. “Next week. Dreyer will explain everything you need to know before then.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” I say, already resigned to another wait.

Setting down her teacup, Kleio stands from her chair. “Thank you both for coming. This has been an... Interesting meeting.”

“I found it illuminating, myself.” I reply, a hint of humour in my voice.

Dreyer downs the rest of his tea in one gulp. Standing, he picks me up and nods deeply to Kleio. “Thanks for your time.” He says.

Kleio nods slightly in return.

Dreyer takes the steps back down, the door closing behind us as we leave. Sighing, he starts the slow descent back down.

“Well, she seemed nice.” I say.

“You know Kleio can hear you, right?” Dreyer shakes his head.

“Honestly, I’d be disappointed if she couldn’t, with that level of control over the wind.” I reply. “There was no fire under that teapot. I have no clue how you’d even begin to boil water with air alone. Compared to that, a little eavesdropping must practically be child’s play.”

“Even among the Sylphs, Kleio is unique in her skill.” Dreyer agrees.

“Sylphs?” I ask.

“Wind spirits. They can naturally control the wind, because they’re part of it. You normally don’t see them – they rarely stay in one place for long.” Dreyer explains. “Kleio is one of those rare few who keep themselves grounded, so to speak.”

“Hm. So, what do I need to know about the academy?” I ask, changing the subject.

Dreyer scratches his head. “There’s a lot, but most of it you should be able to figure out as you go along. Formally, this place is known as the Wehttam Academy of Magic And Related Subjects, but most people just refer to it as Wehttam academy, or the academy.”

“I might have already mentioned it, but there are four semesters a year. Before each semester you pick your subjects. Technically you can pick as many as you want, but in reality, clashing lesson times and workload make it difficult for anyone to do more than six. Most people just do four, or even two.” Dreyer continues. “Well, not that you’ll have to worry about that right now. First semester is set out for you. Standard procedure to make sure everyone coming in knows at least the basics.”

“Other than that, there’s not much to say. Rules are pretty much common sense – I can lend you the rule book later, if you’re curious. There’s a huge library, duelling grounds, artificing workshops, alchemy laboratories… Anything you could possibly want or need that’s magic related.” Dreyer finishes.

“When you put it like that, it makes me even more anxious for this week to pass.” I say.

Dreyer shrugs. “These things take time.”

“I know.” I reply.

The conversation lapses, and I take the opportunity to look at my status to try and get an idea of how much mana I’m using. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, my mana is still at its maximum. So, the mana consumption is less than my regeneration, but I don’t know by how much. It could be taking 1 mana a minute or 10, and it wouldn’t reflect in any way on my status.

Either way, though, it means I can keep using these magical tools indefinitely.

The time passes quicker, now that I can see as a human would, although comparison to my memories has allowed me to determine that I can’t see as far or as in as much detail as I used to be able to. But it’s enough – for now, at least.

I read through the rule book Dreyer mentioned, mostly as something to pass the time, but also because I don’t want to screw up something unintentionally and end up getting expelled. Dreyer was right, it is mostly common sense. Stuff like don’t steal, don’t use magic on others without their consent (and even then, it’s probably unwise), no fighting outside the duelling grounds (which have a whole section of rules devoted just to them) and so on and so forth.

Of course, the book doesn’t say it in so few words, but that’s the general gist of things.

I also take a look at some maps of the academy to make sure I don’t get lost moving around. With mana sight, it’s an unlikely prospect, but it doesn’t hurt to have additional information.

And like that, a week passes…

I hover over to the auditorium on my own for the welcoming ceremony. Dreyer offered to carry me, but it’s not like he could carry me to every class. I would end up standing out anyway, so I may as well do it myself.

The people I pass by gawk at me, but not as much as I had thought. By their conversations, they seem to think I’m an oddly shaped magical tool. I’m fine with that.

When I near the auditorium, it’s already packed with people, ordered by how many semesters they have completed. My group, the new students, is the largest, while it seems like some of the most senior groups have been placed together because of how few there are.

At the entrance there is a small queue of students being directed towards their groups by a teacher. After a short wait in the line, I reach the front. The teacher takes one look at me and says, “No remote magical tools allowed. Next.”

“Wait, I’m a student.” I protest. “Check your list for ‘Gerald’.”

Pausing, the teacher leafs through the list’s pages before finding my name – and race – listed there. “My apologies.” She says, although her eyebrows have hiked halfway up her forehead. “Right up the front.”

Mentally breathing a sigh of relief, I move to join my group, hovering at around chest height. Mana sight doesn’t require me to have line of sight, so there’s no point in blocking anyone else’s views.

The people around me whisper and fidget, looking around at the massive auditorium and their arrayed seniors with no small degree of awe. Most of the newcomers look young, maybe ranging from ten to fifteen years of age, although some few are older, and a couple are slightly younger. Others I can’t tell their age because of their race.

There’s a massive array of races here, most of them humanoid but others less so. Just from the ones I can name, I see humans, elves, dwarves, goblins, orcs, fairies, halflings, gnomes, beastmen, demi-humans, centaurs, lamiae, nagas, kobolds, gnolls, lizardmen, harpies, a couple of mermaids in a small pool of water at the edge of the auditorium, a giant, a sphinx, a cyclops, a mind flayer, what I think is a mimic slime and some I can only assume to be elementals.

Eventually, everyone arrives, and the doors close. Lines of teachers walk onto the stage, Dreyer among them. Kleio walks – or rather, drifts – to the podium and begins to speak. “Good morning, and welcome to the third semester of this year at Wehttam Academy.” Her voice can clearly be heard even at the back of the auditorium, judging by the reactions of the people there, but whether it’s due to a magical tool or her own magic I can’t be sure. There are so many enchantments and magic flowing in the air and walls here that it’s difficult to tell where one starts and another begins.

Or perhaps it’s all the one spell, just moving and changing constantly. I honestly have no clue.

Kleio continues to speak, welcoming everyone back and offering her thanks to the teachers and staff for the smooth enrolment process, but not saying anything particularly interesting to me.

“In other news, some of the more senior students may be happy to hear that Dreyer has returned from his travels, and will be available this semester to teach space magic to anyone with the skill and intent to learn.” Kleio says as Dreyer waves from the row of teachers.

A few of the people towards the rear of the auditorium smile and surreptitiously pump their fists in response.

So, it turns out he’s pretty popular. I guess it makes sense. Space magic, as far as I’ve seen, is incredibly powerful and versatile.

After about another five minutes of announcements and such, Kleio finishes up. “Thank you for listening. And now, the new students will follow their teachers to their first lesson. As students have been assigned to classes in alphabetical order, please pay attention to the signs the teachers are holding so that you follow the correct teacher. The students in their second semester, please follow Mr. Hartwick to choose your classes. As for the rest of you, you know where to go.”

Kleio steps down from the podium, and all the teachers but four disperse. Those four walk to the front (sadly, none of them are Dreyer), holding signs.

Inevitably, a cacophony of chatter almost instantly breaks out around me as everyone crowds towards those teachers. Sighing to myself mentally, I hover a bit higher to get a better look at the signs, then higher again when I notice one is particularly low. On them are written: A-E, F-J, K-P and Q-Z. I start to move off towards the teacher holding the F-J sign when I notice a small halfling boy jumping up and down in a fruitless attempt to see the signs.

He looks very anxious and is starting to look a bit panicky, so I hover over to him. “Having trouble seeing the signs?”

The boy looks at me for a moment, gobsmacked, before finding his tongue again. “Uh, yes. My name is Iueia, do you know where I need to go?”

“Sure.” I say calmly. “I’m not sure I caught your name right, what did it start with?”

“I.” He replies, reacting to my calmness and visibly starting to calm down.

“Looks like you’re in the same class as me, so you can just follow me.” I say, starting to head towards the teacher. “If you happen to get lost, the teacher’s sh- a bit taller than you, with brown hair, a full white beard and thick glasses. I think he might be a gnome, but I’m not entirely sure.”

Iueia follows me, he short legs moving much faster than everyone else’s in order to keep up. “Thanks… What’s your name?”

“Gerald.” I reply.

“Gerald…” Iueia muses, looking up at me. “if you, uh, don’t mind me asking, what are you?”

“Exactly what I look like.” I state, already having expected the question.

“A fork?” Iueia asks.

“A fork.” I agree.

Iueia scratches his head. “That’s just weird.” He says, confused. “How can a person be a fork?”

…I’m not even mad. He just sounds so legitimately confused as to how I can be a fork.

“I’m weird like that.” I agree.

“Huh.” Iueia mutters, then falls silent.

The teacher leads our small crowd through corridors and hallways until he finally herds us inside a classroom labelled B1.G.7. Standing at the front, he says, “Pick whichever desk you like, and I’ll call the roll to make sure everyone is here.”

Fearing that my eye would fail to make out the full detail written on the blackboard from the rear of the room, I make a bee-line for the front center desk and set myself down upon it. A few seconds later, a girl with a grubby face pulls out the chair and attempts to sit down.

“I’m already sitting here, thanks.” I say, startling her out of the chair instantly.

She gives me a strange look, but moves and sits to my left without saying anything. Iueia sits down to my right and smiles at me briefly before he awkwardly notices I am incapable of replying in kind and looks ahead to the teacher.

He begins to call out names. When he gets to mine, he stalls for half a second before calling it out. I reply like everyone else, and he looks at me for a moment before shrugging to himself and continuing on.

Iueia’s name gets called shortly after. Then, right towards the end…

“Joe.” The teacher calls out.

“Here.” The reply comes in a voice significantly deeper than everyone else before him, almost raspy. But I didn’t see anyone opening their mouth in mana sight.

I practically ignore the girl on my left replying to her name, Joyce, as half in disbelief, half in dread, I swivel myself around to face the back of the classroom. I see an old man sitting there in the school robes, his brilliantly blue eyes looking straight at me.

I turn off my eye. He, and only he, disappears from my sight. I turn it back on, and there he is.

Joe.

jinxs2011

It's been a while since the last chapter, and unfortunately the next chapter will probably take even longer; I'll have to focus on something else for at least the rest of the month. I can't be sure when the next chapter will be, but I can be sure there will be a next chapter. Either way, I'll still be available to reply for questions, comments and on the discord server (https://discord.gg/qRPP5mH). I'll also update the wiki (https://fork-this-life.wikia.com/wiki/Fork_This_Life!_Wiki) soon after posting this chapter, with the new characters and whatnot.

Regardless of all that, Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.