Seeing Ardor’s sincere look, his chair hesitated, but still covered Ardor in an embrace with its arms before saying, “Monsters. They all yell it. Deep in their hearts. Think we don’t hear. But we do. Everything. Every time.”

It felt angry at them, and the twigs covering Ardor turned tighter.

“Ah!”

He looked to his side and found Jeanne in the same position; her face twisted in mild pain, but she gave him a look of reassurance, telling him she was fine. ‘We really did develop good chemistry,’ he thought while feeling some heartache at her pain.

Ardor calmly explained to the enchanted chairs, “They’re simply afraid of you. Afraid of what they do not know. That’s why they say all those names.”

The chair’s bindings felt looser. Its eyes unfocused, and in thought. The other chairs were the same. But the other teens didn’t enjoy the treatment except for Jeanne and the Mist Twins, who had already adapted.

“Really?” it asked Ardor in doubt. The chair’s left thinking as it was not their forte.

“Really,” Ardor repeated. “Tell me. After they’ve seen you all once, do all of them still call you names the next time?” he asked.

After a moment, the chair replied, “No… So we’re not monsters!” it exclaimed.

“We’re not monsters!” the other chairs echoed.

They felt thrilled for a reason as simple as this that the other teens suffering, and the ones not suffering, felt quite surprised.

“What do you think about actual monsters?” Ardor asked curiously.

After completely letting go of Ardor and restoring the arms in its usual place, the enchanted chair replied, “Big, ugly, mean creatures. A creature whom everybody loathes.“

‘So that’s what they thought!’

Ardor said, “Of course you’re not like that. You wanted a new name, right? So you guys are Chairmen. Each and every one of you is called Chairman!”

“Chairman?”

“Chairman!?”

“CHAIRMAN!!!”

The enchanted chairs, now chairmen, rejoiced. The bindings of the other teens fell loose as the chairs approached each other and did a chair version of high-fives many times.

…

“Hog! Brother, where have you been?”

An old man with a waist long white beard, white hair that reached his knees, sunken eyes, and a friendly smile asked.

“Hob! I was just double checking the list,” replied an old man with a short white beard and white hair till his ears. He sat down beside his elder brother and saw the audience was still absent. “Where are they?” he asked to his right.

Hob, sitting on the most luxurious chair of the row, replied, “Hah… It seems there’s an interesting character this year. He’s already befriended the Enchanted Chairs!”

“What?” a female professor in a white robe and white hair that complemented her fair skin asked.

Hob looked at her. “Hoh, I told you. It’s true!”

The other professors also looked interested and couldn’t wait to see the oddity.

“What’s his name?” Hog asked.

Remembering the conversation he heard from the hall down, Hob replied, “Ardor. It’s Ardor Flame.”

*Sigh*

“What happened? Do you know something about him?” Asked Hoh.

“He has a low talent for fire.” That’s all what Hog said, and the others understood and felt disinterested once again.

Another professor snappily asked, “Hob. Do we really need to keep them in batches like this? This is.. what… the 20,223rd batch. Why can’t we simply recruit them once a year and keep them in different years based on their strength like it is? Why make it complicated?”

The others looked at him once again. Hearing the open question and feeling the dissatisfaction from others made Hob feel like he had to let them know. Not everything, but something.

“It’s the will of the ancestors. It’s related to a prophecy,” he replied.

“Oh,” that professor said and remained silent, knowing the importance.

A few minutes went by, and the professors had gotten bored.

“Just bring them up,” Hog said, receiving a nod from everyone.

“Alright.”

…

Ardor remained seated on his chair, but sat in the opposite usual direction with his gaze on the new chairman’s face. They had been talking for a while.

It was mostly the chair telling stories of Nutmeth while Ardor would sneak in a piece or two from his memories that kept these simple-minded creatures happy

It was only Jeanne, Ardor and the Mist Twins that were getting this treatment as the others began cursing the chairs as soon as they were let go of. So the chairs locked them again and sealed their mouths.

Jeanne played with her chair as well, and it seemed to like her.

‘They can sense our thoughts, our feelings,’ Ardor thought. ‘Then did they not attack me since I didn’t have disgust but curiosity? And she was simply too pure?’

“You’re right, my new Chairman friend,” the chair happily replied.

Ardor froze, remembering their abilities. Then he shut his mind down, froze his thoughts, emptied his mind.

“You’re not talking anymore?” it asked. “Go on. Is everything okay?”

“Okay,” Ardor stiffly replied.

Meanwhile, from above the clouds floating on the top of the hall came a blue light and exploded into flames above the chairs.

“It’s time.”

“He’s too impatient!”

“Shut it. Or he’ll throw you to those dogs!”

“D-dogs? N-no dogs. They chew too much! Let’s go!”

The chairs rattled and got into a horizontal line.

“Sit straight,” Ardor’s and Jeanne’s chair told them and they happily obliged.

The arms receded and Ardor felt the chair get thinner. Suddenly, a shadow covered him and he turned back and looked up in shock.

“Wings?” he murmured in doubt.

“Yes, wings. Don’t you know we’re enchanted chairmen? We can fly!” his chair said.

Ardor looked eager to see the mechanism and waited for the angelic but brown wooden wings to flap and fly them to where they were supposed to be going. But it didn’t happen.

Instead, faint light was released from behind the wings, going towards the ground and the chairs slowly elevated. Ardor felt his feet leave the ground and sat straight, not daring to move at all.

“AAh!”

*Thud*

He turned and saw Edgar, who still had a chair’s arm that looked like a thick tree root in his mouth, fallen on the ground.

“Stop moving, you numbskull! I will not be late!” his chair shouted.

It became even more forceful, almost changing into something else entirely as it covered Edgar like an egyptian mummy with its roots and just kept the wing parts of its body in one piece. It hurried and elevated with the others.

They went higher and higher, reaching the top of the hall. As Ardor closed his eyes bracing for impact, he instead felt the clouds brush past him and give way as he crossed them and reached a new level, one where he had people in front of him.

“So it seems you have had an unforgettable first day at Nutmeth,” said Hog, seeing the mummy Edgar and the two teens who still had the chairs in their mouths, blocking the profanity coming out.

“Release them,” he said.

The chairs hesitated, but retrieved their roots from their bodies.

“You piece of sh*t! I’ll kill you! You mother…”

“Let go of me, you monster! You freak! You stupid idiot! You…”

“You A$$!!! Leave me alone! You will pay for this! I will…”

A string of profanities left their mouths. They were using the latest trends to stain the innocent minds of the chairs while the professors directly opposite to them picked up a few words that felt interesting.

Hob leaned close to Hog and whispered, “Are the youths these days so ill mannered? They want to become mages but hold no respect or curiosity towards magic?”

Hog shrugged. “At least those from Zoran have always been this way.”

Hob’s eyes shone in understanding. “Zoran, right? I remember all their batches were wiped out. Will this one be the same?” he asked.

Hog looked at the one with the highest talent, the one who was curious and respectful of the unknown and the twins who adapted to the situation.

“Maybe not,” he responded. “They may still have hope.”

“Okay. Quiet down,” Hob loudly said. But they ignored him and had already folded their sleeves and began beating the chairs after realizing they could stand on the floor that gave them a view of the clouds below.

“Oh, looks like nobody ever listens to you in your old age,” Hog sniggered.

Triggered by his younger brother, Hob simply took his wand out, which had a faint ancient aura, and waved it towards them. No chanting, no words. He just waved it at them.

A streak of blue light left the tip of his wand, soon divided into three and struck the three teens on their heads. The room became silent.

Ardor looked closely at Edgar and the other two and saw they were still shouting, but it was as if someone had pressed the mute button. Slowly, the teens also realized this, held their throats and began shouting even louder, to no avail.