By the time I reached the academy bridge, the second bell had stopped ringing.
Students streamed toward the gates in neat uniforms.
I looked down at myself.
Jonathan’s shirt was streaked with dirt from the tree I couldn't help but climb.
Small pieces of bark clung to one sleeve.
The knees of his trousers were dark with grass stains.
I had somehow made borrowed clothes look even more borrowed.
The uniform I had awakened in remained folded beneath one arm.
Mrs. Daniels’ bundle of bread and fruit hung from my other hand.
And her son's oversized clothes on me.
I did not look like I belonged in this pristine establishment.
Two guards stood at the entrance to the bridge.
They checked bags and watched everyone passing through the gates.
More guards waited on the academy side, some wearing the same uniforms as the men I had seen near the pool.
One of the guards glanced at me.
Then at the stained jacket beneath my arm.
“Nametag.”
I shifted the food bundle and pulled the tag from inside the folded uniform.
Xu XiaoXing.
The guard examined it.
Then examined me.
His eyes peered at my face.
Inspecting real hard.
I’d begun to recognize that incredulous look.
They always squint, like just reading the name is making them turn Chinese.
He handed the tag back.
“Keep it visible.”
I pinned it to Jonathan’s shirt.
The tag looked even more out of place there.
Still, the guard stepped aside.
I crossed the bridge.
The sea stretched beneath it, breaking against the cliffs in white bursts of foam.
Wind rushed between the stone railings and pulled at my clothes.
Ahead, students hurried through the academy gates.
Some talked in groups.
Others walked while reading books, somehow avoiding collisions without ever looking up.
One boy sprinted across the bridge.
He seemed really excited about education.
A taller girl caught him by the back of his jacket before he crashed into another student.
I passed beneath the academy gates.
The courtyard beyond them might as well have been its own town.
White stone buildings surrounded it on every side. Covered walkways connected separate wings, and long green banners of a tree with its roots and branches curving into a circle hung from upper balconies.
Ironically the real tree it was based on was hidden from sight.
I stood there a second longer than necessary looking at the design they chose for the school emblem
Then somebody nearly walked into me.
I moved out of the way of the entrance.
Students separated in different directions.
Some climbed the grand staircase.
Others disappeared beneath archways.
A few crossed the courtyard toward another bridge leading deeper into the academy grounds.
I remained near the gate.
Lynne’s directions returned to me.
Past the main entrance.
Up the stairs toward the Headmaster’s office.
Beneath the green banners.
On the left before the courtyard.
I looked around.
There were green banners everywhere.
There were also several entrances to the giant courtyard.
In fact I think there was an entrance to the courtyard from every hallway.
I needed help.
A woman carrying an armful of books crossed the courtyard.
She wore a long academy coat rather than a student uniform, and several keys hung from a chain at her waist.
She looked like someone who knew where things were.
I approached her.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
She looked up.
Her eyes moved to my nametag.
Then to my face.
Recognition flickered across her expression.
“Oh.”
I don't recognize her, but it seems she recognizes me.
“You’re the student causing all the chaos.”
It's only been twenty-four hours. Why is that how she knows me.
“...what?”
“The one with the completely blue crystal.”
“Oh, yeah that's me.”
“You were the one who attacked those men who broke onto academy grounds.”
I hesitated.
“with a gardening shovel if I'm told correctly” she added
“...Why do you know that?”
She smiled.
“Students are remarkably efficient at sharing things they shouldn't. If only they were the same when it came to their studies.”
“Ah, that explains the staring.”
“Maybe some of it.”
I looked down at Jonathan’s dirt-streaked clothes.
“Right.”
She adjusted the books in her arms.
“Are you in need of assistance?”
“I missed most of the orientation.”
“Skipped it because you couldn't wait to join the gardening club?”
I stare blankly. She bites her lips to hide her smile.
“I mean, I stayed long enough to get a nametag.”
“I've been told.”
“And a path assignment.”
“A very blue one at that.”
“But I never received my uniform.”
“That much is plain to see”
“Or my dormitory room and class schedule.”
She stared at me.
“Is that why you look like you slept in a tree?”
“It was a complicated day.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she didn't press the issue.
“The uniform workshop is upstairs. Take the main staircase, turn right beneath the largest green banner and continue until the corridor ends. There you should see the main office and to the left is the seamsters workshop.”
“Which green banners?”
I pointed out the many banners. Some were green with a golden tree in the middle. Others were white with a green tree in the middle.
“Fair question.”
She shifted the books to one arm and pointed.
“Those.”
Two enormous banners hung on either side of the staircase.
A symbolic painting of a tree that resembled the one I had climbed earlier, embroidered in gold or green.
“Go up there. Turn right. Keep walking until there is nowhere left to walk.”
“That I can understand.”
“The uniform workshop will be on your left. The Headmaster’s office is directly opposite.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She began walking away.
Then stopped.
“You should come check the gardening club once you're all settled.”
“The shovel wasn't that nice.”
“The man you trashed must have felt the same.”
I laughed despite myself.
She smiled and continued across the courtyard.
The inside of the academy was even larger than it appeared from outside.
The main corridor stretched beneath a ceiling high enough to contain another building.
Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows and painted the floor.
Different shades of blues greens and pinks shifted across the floor.
Students moved in every direction.
Some hurried toward class.
Others stood in small circles comparing books and schedules.
Through an open archway, several younger students surrounded a stone basin while one girl washed her hands in the water.
Farther down the corridor, two students practiced with wooden swords beneath the supervision of an instructor.
One struck the other across the shoulder.
The instructor immediately corrected the attacker’s footing.
Then he checked whether the other boy was injured.
Despite the number of people, nobody seemed completely lost.
Except me.
I followed the teacher’s directions.
Up the main staircase.
Right beneath the largest green banners.
Then straight ahead until there was nowhere left to walk.
Eventually the corridor ended at another one of the many gates of into the courtyard.
But just before the courtyard, two doors stood opposite one another.
The one on the left was almost hidden behind stacked rolls of fabric.
That's reason enough to believe that's the Seamsters office.
I pushed it open.
The workshop beyond was surprisingly small.
Fabric covered nearly every wall.
Cloth in forest green and navy blue, the same ones used for the academy blazers.
Pale cotton, ribbons, leather straps lined up every shelf and corner.
Half-completed uniforms hung from wooden forms while baskets overflowing with thread occupied most of the floor.
The room smelled like cloth, dust, and hot metal.
It was essentially a sweatshop.
A magical sweatshop…
Behind a cluttered workbench sat an elderly man wearing spectacles so thick, that they would magnify his eyes as though they are about to take flight off of his head.
A measuring cord hung around his neck.
He looked up.
“What d’ya want?”
His voice hit me like sandpaper.
“I’m here to collect my uniforms.”
“Name.”
I removed the tag from Jonathan’s shirt and placed it on the counter.
He pulled it closer.
His eyes narrowed behind the lenses.
Then he looked at me.
Back at the tag.
Then at me again.
“Xu Xu–Ah-What?”
“Uh, it says Xu XiaoXing.”
“A know what it says lad! I c’n read!”
I stare at him blankly.
“Ya don’ look like no Xu Xing Xong I've ev’r seen!”
I looked down at the tag.
This is only the second day of, basically everything I can remember, but even I understood what he meant.
Xu XiaoXing was most definitely what people here call a “Zhanghua” name.
And despite not knowing anything.
I was most definitely not Zhanghua looking.
“I'm pretty sure it's pronounced Xu Xiao Xing.”
His eyebrows rose.
Apparently, that was the answer he expected.
“Pretty sure? Yer not certain how t’ pronounce yer own name?”
“I don’t think it’s my real name.”
“Then why’re ya wearin’ it?”
“It was the only one left.”
He stared at me.
“You just took someone else’s name?”
“I didn’t know it belonged to someone.”
“All names belong to someone.”
“I mean, yeah but–.”
“Ain’t givin’ academy issue to some street vagrant who walks in wearin’ another student’s name.”
I looked down at the name tag
Xu XiaoXing
I had never claimed the name belonged to me.
I didn't even really want to be called that. It’s just I had nothing else.
“No one told me what I was supposed to do.”
“Maybe not steal another student's name for start.”
His eyes moved to the stained uniform beneath my arm.
He frowned.
“The hell is that atroci-”
Someone hurriedly opened the workshop door behind me.
“There you are.”
The voice was very dignified and memorable, albeit a bit rushed.
I had only seen him twice but I immediately recognized him by his voice.
The Headmaster entered.
His long white beard rested across the front of his robes, and his expression brightened when he saw me.
Then his eyes moved to the nametag on the counter.
Then the folded uniform beneath my arm.
“Mr. Xu,” he said warmly. “I was beginning to wonder when you would arrive.”
Mr.Webster leaned back.
“Y’ knew about this?”
“Yes.”
“Laddie says he don’t know his own name.”
“He does not know many things, that is why he is here, what else is an academy for if not to educate.”
“The hell with ye and yer cryptic bull shyte! Some poor Zhang bastard is runnin around with no name, no-”
“Would you be so kind as to provide Mr. Xu with the uniforms assigned to him?”
The Headmaster’s smile never moved.
Mr. Webster crossed his arms.
“He ain't no Zhang boy I've er’ seen.”
“Fortunately, your responsibility is to fit clothing, not identities.”
Both of them stared at each other in silence.
Mr. Webster grumbled something beneath his breath.
Then pushed himself out of the chair and disappeared behind a hanging wall of fabric.
The Headmaster looked at me.
“You had quite the eventful yester-day?”
“Yeah, hopefully to-day will be less eventful.”
His gaze dropped to the scratches on my hands.
Then the bark clinging to Jonathan’s sleeve.
Then the dirt on my trousers.
“Have you found it to be less eventful?”
I looked down.
“Actually yes, the only event I had was climbing a tree.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Which tree?”
I pointed in the general direction of where the tree might have been outside the academy gates
“The giant one outside, the only one that looks like it.”
A look of recognition animated his face for a moment.
“Ah, the ancient Lote tree?”
“I don't know what it's called.”
“I see.”
Mr. Webster returned carrying several bundles.
He dropped the first onto the counter.
“Two formal uniforms.”
Another followed.
“Shirts and trousers.”
Then another.
“Lounge clothes.”
He piled them all on top of each other in a canvas bag
“Training clothes.”
He adjusted the bag around the growing pile
“Sleepwear”
Finally, he placed a smaller wrapped bundle on top.
“Swimwear.”
I stared at the pile.
I don't remember owning or not owning clothing before this.
Somehow it still feels like a lot.
“I get all of this?”
Mr. Webster glared at me.
“What? Ya thought we made students sleep in their formal jackets?”
“I was told academy pajamas are necessary for returning lost students to the proper building?”
The Headmaster cleared his throat.
“Festivals can become confusing.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Mr. Webster pushed the pile toward me.
“There.”
I attempted to gather everything.
The bread bundle began slipping from my hand.
And I almost dropped the clothes trying to stop it from doing so.
The Headmaster caught the upper half of the clothes before they hit the floor.
“Perhaps one thing at a time.”
“That would probably be wiser.”
Mr. Webster slid the nametag across the counter.
“Here.”
I picked it up.
Xu XiaoXing.
I pinned it back onto Jonathan’s shirt.
Mr. Webster’s mouth tightened.
I knew the name looked wrong on me.
The Headmaster inclined his head.
“Thank you, Mr. Webster.”
The old tailor grunted before returning to his work before we had left.
The Headmaster held the door open.
I stepped into the corridor.
He followed and closed it behind us.
The stained uniform remained beneath my arm as there wasn't enough space for it inside the bag Mr.Webster reluctantly provided.
The Headmaster eyes went to the uniform I was carrying before looking back at me.
“Keep that uniform.”
“I was planning on it.”
“Somewhere safe.”
The way he said it made me glance down at it.
“Why?”
“It is the only thing we know certainly arrived with you.”
He gestured toward the office across the hall.
“There are several other matters we should correct.”
I followed him inside.
Tall bookshelves covered nearly every wall.
Maps hung between them.
They looked eerie, it looked almost right, but there were coastlines I didn't recognize.
Others were filled with circles and lines and strange symbols that seemed to represent stars.
A large window overlooked the town.
From there, through a break between buildings, I could see part of the hill.
A few upper branches of the lote tree I climbed rose above the rooftops.
The Headmaster moved behind his desk.
“I imagine you have not visited your dormitory.”
“I didn't know I had one.”
“And you have not eaten at the academy.”
“Mrs. Daniels fed me.”
I raised up the bundle of fruit she gave me.
“That was not the question.”
“I haven't eaten here yet.”
He opened a drawer and removed a folded sheet of parchment.
“Room one hundred and seven.”
I repeated the number silently.
One hundred and seven.
“North West residence hall. Your nametag will identify you to the residence attendant.”
He pointed toward the metal nametag on my chest.
“Your meals have also been added to your academy account.”
I looked down at it.
“This?”
“Yes.”
“It does more than tell people the wrong name?”
“Considerably more.”
“How?”
“You may present it at the dining halls, academy shops, library, equipment offices, and approved merchants within the academy grounds.”
I stared at him.
“So this is money?”
“Not exactly.”
“It sounds like a debit card.”
His brow rose
“It's like money in a card…nevermind.”
“It identifies the account responsible for the expense.”
“Which account?”
“Yours.”
“I don't have any money.”
“The academy is aware.”
“Then whose money am I spending?”
“The academy's.”
I was taken aback
“How much?”
“As much as is reasonably necessary for meals, educational materials, clothing, and ordinary student expenses.”
“And who decided that?”
“I did.”
He said it so simply that I nearly missed it.
I stared at him.
Of everything unbelievable I'd encountered in the last twenty-four hours, this might have been the most magical.
“Why?”
The Headmaster sat down.
“Because students generally perform better when they eat.”
“I meant why are you paying for me?”
“I understood the question.”
He folded his hands.
“You are enrolled here. You require meals, books, clothing, and somewhere to sleep. At present you have no family we can contact and no means of paying for those things yourself.”
He shrugged slightly.
“Therefore we will.”
I didn't know what to say.
“Do I have to pay it back?”
“No.”
“That feels irresponsible.”
He smiled.
“Try not to bankrupt us with pastries.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That is all I ask.”
He slid the folded parchment toward me.
“And this is your schedule.”
I opened it.
Most of the week was occupied by a single title.
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY
Beneath it were different halls and subjects.
Grammar.
Logic.
Rhetoric.
Arithmetic.
Geometry.
Music.
Astronomy.
Below those were shorter periods marked for physical training and path instruction.
I looked up.
“This is one subject?”
“One foundation,” the Headmaster said. “Several methods of understanding it.”
I looked down again.
“And when do I learn magic?”
“You already are.”
I stared at the parchment.
“Grammar is magic?”
“Not by itself.”
“Arithmetic?”
“Also not by itself.”
“That is reassuring.”
He smiled.
“Understanding precedes power, Mr. Xu.”
I remembered seeing the phrase elsewhere.
“That's the academy motto, at least one of them.”
“There are multiple?”
“Old institutions accumulate mottos much like old men accumulate opinions.”
I looked at his beard.
He noticed.
I smiled.
He tapped the schedule.
“Magic is not a collection of tricks. It is the manipulation of relationships.”
I looked back at the list.
He continued
“Words, numbers, music, the heavens. Nothing exists entirely apart from anything else. Understand those relationships, and eventually you'll understand where you fit among them.”
He points at the first block on my schedule.
“Your first lesson begins later this morning. You have time to leave your belongings in your room and find the hall.”
“Assuming I can find my room.”
“You found this office.”
“Someone gave me directions.”
“I can give you directions.”
“I'm not very good at following them.”
He laughed a little too hard.
Then walked around the desk.
“Northwest residence hall. Ground floor. Room one hundred and seven.”
“North.”
He pointed through the door.
“That direction.”
I looked into the corridor.
It divided twice before disappearing around a corner.
“Of course.”
The Headmaster placed one hand lightly against my shoulder.
“We are all very interested to see where your journey leads, Mr. Xu.”
I liked the way he said journey.
“Thank you, sir.”
I picked up the bag.
Adjusted the old uniform beneath my arm.
Tucked Mrs. Daniels' food inside with the schedule.
Then stepped into the corridor.
The Headmaster had pointed north.
I was almost certain of that.
I made it twelve steps down the corridor before he came back out and corrected that I was supposed to go out from the courtyard exit.
The corridor opened through a wide stone archway.
Beyond it—
I stopped.
The courtyard below was enormous.
White stone stretched between surrounding buildings, worn smooth by what looked like centuries of footsteps.
Fountains rose from the center.
Water poured from carved stone animals into broad pools while students sat along their edges eating, reading, arguing, sleeping.
Long stone benches surrounded patches of trees and flowers.
Covered stalls lined the outer edges beneath colorful awnings.
There were restaurants, bookstores, clothing stores, school supplies, training equipment and other things I've I had no knowledge of.
The whole place felt less like a courtyard and more like a marketplace surrounded by a wall of classes and dormitories.
I descended the steps.
Students moved between the stalls.
One held her nametag against a brass plate beside a bookseller's register.
The plate clicked.
The bookseller glanced at something engraved beneath it.
Then handed her three books.
It was literally like a credit card.
I touched my own tag.
This is dangerous.
I had been trusted with financial responsibility approximately one day after losing my entire identity.
By this point, it had been several hours since breakfast.
I wasn't hungry exactly.
Mrs. Daniels had made sure of that.
But the smell of coffee and tea reached me from somewhere nearby.
It smelled wonderful.
I followed the smell.
Several stalls later, I found a dark green awning with gold lettering across the front.
AL-QAHWAH MASHRIQI
It felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.
Behind the counter were trays of pastries, dates, cakes, and small sweets covered in nuts and syrup.
Brass pots steamed above a heated stone surface.
An older man stood behind the counter.
His beard was long and dark with streaks of gray, while his mustache was kept shorter.
When he saw me, his face brightened.
“Peace be upon you, brother.”
I stared blankly, I liked his energy and enthusiasm.
“What can I make for you?”
I stared at him for another second.
And looked around for a menu.
There was writing written on the boards behind him, but I couldn't read it.
But there was one drink I assumed for another customer, already on the counter.
It was pale green, foamy, and topped with crushed nuts.
I pointed.
“What's that?”
“Ah, this is halib al-fustuq.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“Milk with pistachio and coffee. It is very sweet.”
“Sweet sounds good.”
“Strong?”
“Yes.”
“How strong?”
I considered the question.
“Whatever you think tastes right.”
He laughed.
“That I can do my brother.”
He began working.
Coffee went into a small brass pot.
Then a thick pistachio paste.
Milk.
Something sweet that he poured from a little ceramic jug.
The smell alone made the entire journey here feel more worthwhile.
He poured it into a cup.
Pale green foam rose to the top.
Crushed pistachios scattered across it.
I took a careful sip.
It was warm, creamy, and most definitely tasted like pistachio, but a nice pleasant sweet pistachio.
I closed my eyes.
“That's excellent.”
“As it should be.”
He held out his hand.
“Your tag.”
Right.
I removed it and passed it over.
He pressed the metal against a shallow brass disk set into the counter.
Something clicked beneath it.
The merchant glanced down.
Then at the tag.
Then at me.
Then gave me the same look everyone gives me after seeing me and then my name tag.
I waited.
His eyebrows rose.
“Xu XiaoXing?”
“Yes.”
He studied my face.
“Zhanghua?”
“Apparently.”
He laughed.
“Apparently?”
“It's a long story.”
He returned the tag.
“Whatever your name brother, may your story be beautiful.”
“I'd appreciate that.”
“Peace be upon you.”
“Thanks, you too.”
I pinned the tag back onto my shirt and walked away with the coffee.
Great purchase.
I wandered through the courtyard.
The place felt slightly off.
It was normal at first glance, but the closer you looked the more curious it became.
A student practiced writing symbols in the air while eating something from a bowl.
Another sat on the edge of a fountain repairing the straps of a metal gauntlet.
Two girls argued over a mathematics problem while a third slept between them with her face buried in a book.
A boy carried a spear under one arm and a pastry in the other.
The unusual seemed like business as usual here.
But I have no memory of what is usual.
I heard shouting coming from the far edge of the courtyard.
“Stop!”
Several students suddenly ran toward a low stone railing.
An instructor chased after them.
“Don't you dare!”
They dared.
The first climbed over.
A second.
Then three more scurried over it.
I moved closer.
Beyond the railing was a grassy drop running along the academy wall.
Something spun across it.
At first I thought it was dust.
Then it came closer.
A tiny tornado.
Not enormous.
Maybe twice as tall as a person.
Its narrow body twisted quickly across the grass while leaves and bits of loose debris spun around it.
Another moved behind it.
Then another.
I stared.
One of the students climbed onto the railing.
The instructor pointed at him.
“Thomas!”
Thomas jumped.
The whirlwind caught him.
He vanished inside it for half a second.
Then shot upward.
Very upward.
My stomach dropped on his behalf.
Thomas turned through the air a couple times.
Then landed in the grass several yards away.
He rolled and stood up laughing the entire time.
The instructor covered the side of her head with both hands.
“For the sake of the Lord.”
Another student climbed onto the railing.
“Get down!”
She jumped.
“NOT ON THAT SIDE!”
The second miniature tornado caught her and threw her sideways.
She landed safely.
The instructor rushed to the railing.
“If you're going to ignore me, tuck your arms and legs in!”
Three students immediately climbed over.
The instructor froze.
“That was not permission!”
I took another sip of coffee.
One of the miniature whirlwinds spun past the wall.
A girl beside me shook her head.
“First-years.”
“Is this normal?”
She looked at me.
“The corkscrews?”
Corkscrew, I guess that's what they call those tiny tornadoes.
“Yes.”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“They're stronger before storms.”
I looked toward the clear blue sky.
“That's interesting.”
The instructor was still yelling.
“Stop climbing the fence, you little scoundrels!”
Another student jumped.
I smiled.
The bag of uniforms hanging from my shoulder eventually reminded me that I had a purpose.
Room 107.
Northwest residence hall.
I looked around.
Nothing said NORTHWEST RESIDENCE HALL.
At least not anywhere I could see.
I searched for someone approachable.
Eventually, I spotted an older student with red hair and freckles sitting beneath one of the covered walkways.
A book was open in his lap.
His expression suggested he had specifically chosen that location because he wanted nobody to speak to him.
Unfortunately for him.
“Excuse me.”
He looked up.
One eyebrow rose.
“Do you happen to know where room one hundred and seven is? Northwest residence.”
He pointed across the courtyard.
“Through there, past the old tower.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded once and returned immediately to his book.
This person appeared to know the layout of this school well
I crossed the courtyard.
The passage he indicated led through a narrower section of the academy.
The buildings here looked much older.
The clean white stone gave way to darker blocks worn by weather.
Newer walls had been built directly against ancient ones.
Some corridors narrowed for no obvious reason.
I followed what I thought was the northwest passage.
Eventually, I reached a circular tower.
A stone stairway spiraled upward around its inside.
I looked at it, then I looked around.
There were no other doors.
Perhaps the residence entrance was on the other side.
Maybe the stairs only rose slightly before crossing through the tower.
That sounded reasonable.
I started climbing.
After the first turn, I realized the stairs were strange.
The steps weren't even.
Some were slightly taller.
Some dipped in the middle.
Others angled toward the wall.
I nearly caught the front of my boot against one.
Who built this?
I continued.
The tower wall remained close against my right shoulder.
The steps were uneven.
I stopped to look down.
The staircase curved tightly clockwise as I climbed.
If someone were standing above me with a weapon in their right hand.
The central stone would protect their weapon side.
I would be forced against the outer wall.
My own right arm would have almost no room to swing.
They would have gravity, better footing and an easier trajectory for attacking.
And I would be staring upward while trying not to slip down a set of stairs intentionally designed to ruin balance.
I rested one hand against the wall.
They had been designed to make killing someone who was climbing them easier.
Maybe they weren't poorly built, they served a purpose once.
Only that purpose is a safety hazard now.
I stared upward.
“That's pleasant.”
Then another thought occurred to me.
Why had that been obvious to me?
I continued climbing.
The stairs narrowed further.
Occasional slits opened through the outer wall.
They weren't like normal windows, they were too narrow for that. It felt just big enough to shoot an arrow through.
Farther up, I found a gap in the ceiling with a channel cut through the stone.
Something could have been poured through it onto the stairs below.
For right now my only worry is not spilling hot coffee so over Jonathan's already ruined clothes.
This part of the academy revealed a history that had not always been for education.
And if it had always been an academy, they had frequently needed to use violence for whatever reason.
I kept going.
Mostly because going back down those stairs while carrying hot coffee sounded less appealing than continuing to make the original mistake.
Eventually the stairs led into the very ceiling.
A heavy wooden door capped me away from the roof.
I pushed it open.
Sunlight and wind immediately brushed against my face.
I stepped outside.
Seagulls cried overhead.
The sea crashed against the cliffs below.
I stood on a broad stone walkway running along the upper wall of the academy.
Merlons rose along the outer edge.
Arrow loops cut through lower sections of stone.
Old patches crossed the walls where different generations of builders had repaired damage.
Below me, students crossed courtyards that must once have held soldiers.
I looked around.
This most likely was not room 107
I took another sip of coffee. It was still warm, despite having lost some of its heat from the climb.
I should have gone back immediately.
Instead, I walked toward the wall.
From here, the entire harbor opened below.
The town stretched along the coast.
Ships rested at the docks.
Beyond them the sea filled the horizon.
On the distant hill I could see the lote tree, it was impossible to miss.
Its enormous crown rose above everything around it.
For a moment I could really understand how foolish it had been to have climbed it so high.
Just looking at it again was triggering a fear of heights despite my current location.
I leaned against the stone.
It made sense why the school emblem was a caricaturized symbol of that tree.
I could spot that tree from almost anywhere in the town.
Room 107 I could not.
The breeze moved across my face.
I should leave, but my coffee was still warm.
It felt like a good enough reason to remain for another minute.
So I did.
I stood there drinking it while the academy moved below me.
The world was animated and playing, and I felt peaceful and still.
I hadn't accomplished anything, aside from climbing a safety hazard.
But I felt like I had done something monumental.
Like I had personally fought and conquered this castle, even though my only fight was with the stairs.
It was nice though.
Eventually I went for a sip only to realize my cup had emptied.
“Right.”
I turned toward the stairwell.
Going down was every bit as unpleasant as I had predicted.
The difference was that now I understood precisely how many ways someone defending the tower could have killed me while I descended.
This knowledge did not improve the experience.
By the time I reached the bottom, I was reconsidering the wisdom of trusting random red-haired students.
I stepped back into the passage.
A girl in an academy uniform was walking toward me carrying a basket of laundry.
“Excuse me.”
She stopped.
“Do you know where the Northwest residence hall is?”
She pointed behind me.
I turned.
Much earlier in my path to the tower, a broad doorway stood about fifteen feet away.
Above it, carved deeply into the stone, were the words:
NORTHWEST RESIDENCE
I stared.
The girl stared at me.
“How long has that been there?”
She looked genuinely confused.
“The building?”
“The sign.”
“Also a long time.”
“Oh…”
I walked toward it.
Behind me she continued past the tower.
I entered the residence hall.
The noise from the courtyard died out as I entered the corridor.
Doors lined both sides.
Small brass numbers were fixed beside each one.
An older woman sat behind a small desk farther down the corridor.
She watched me with mild amusement.
“You're Xu?”
I looked at the tag.
“Yes.”
“The Headmaster said you might be coming.”
I was shocked she didn't make any comments about my mismatching name and appearance.
She held out her hand.
“Tag.”
I gave it to her.
She pressed it against another brass plate.
A small compartment beneath her desk clicked open.
She removed a key.
“Room 107.”
“Thank you.”
She handed back the tag.
“Bath is inside.”
I looked up.
“I have my own bath?”
“A small one.”
That sounded almost luxurious.
Then she pointed toward the room.
“The upper wall opens toward the corridor.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You'll see.”
I walked to room 107,
Inserted the key, turned it and the lock clicked.
I pushed the door open.
The room was simple, almost small.
A narrow bed stood against one wall with a folded blanket at the foot.
A wooden desk sat beneath the window coupled with a matching wooden chair, matching wardrobe and several shelves.
Another door stood along the back wall which was already cracked open.
I could see a bathtub, along with a deep stone basin occupying most of the little room.
There were curious pipes and hand pumps built into the wall that looked like something I couldn't recognize at all.
But it was all really nice, I had a place to sleep.
As I stepped into the bedroom, I looked to my right and noticed the corridor.
The wall beside the door only rose to about chest height for part of its length before opening upward into nothing.
Anyone walking past could see and hear everything going on in my room.
I stared at the keys in my hand. They were useless considering I could just climb the half wall into my room.
Someone walked past outside.
A boy's upper body appeared above the wall.
The boy glanced in.
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
“New?”
“Uh yes.”
“Welcome.”
He smiled, and kept walking forward until he disappeared past the courtyard doorway.
I stood silently for a moment.
So privacy was not a concept here…
I closed the door, the lock was just decoration I guess.
I turned around to look at my room.
It still has most of what I needed, a bed, desk, wardrobe, a bathroom.
It was just missing half a wall
I lowered the academy bag onto the mattress.
The bed creaked softly beneath the weight.
I placed Mrs. Daniels' food on the desk.
I took my original stained uniform and unfolded it.
The fabric was still stiff in places after getting soaked in pool water. It still has some dried blood and dirt over it along with traces of whatever else happened to it yesterday.
The Headmaster had told me to keep it safe, but I would have to wash it.
For now I settled on placing it at the highest shelf on the wardrobe. I'll have to find out where and how I can wash my clothes later.
I unpacked the new uniforms.
The smell of fresh clean cloth poured out of the bag Mr. Webster gave me.
I ran my hand over one of the formal jackets.
The texture felt different from the one I had woken up in.
I hung it inside, along with the training clothes provided.
I folded the sleepwear beneath them along with the swimwear.
When everything was put away, the room still looked almost empty. Only now they were holding my things.
But from the corridor it still probably looked like an empty unused room.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
The mattress sank slightly beneath me.
I looked toward the door.
A small brass plate had been fixed beside it.
107
Beneath the number was a narrow slot containing a handwritten card.
Xu XiaoXing
I stared at it.
The name looked different there.
More official and convincing somehow.
It looks ridiculous pinned to my chest. But on a door, it looked legit
Xu XiaoXing was most likely not my name.
But the room that belonged to it was mine now.
A bell rang somewhere in the distance pulling me back into reality.
I pulled my schedule from the bag.
The words “Natural Philosophy” stared back.
I looked out of the half wall towards the exit for the courtyard.
I had successfully found one room.
Now I had to find another in the ridiculously giant bastion turned academy.
I sighed.
“Fuck.”
I picked up my schedule.
Pinned Xu XiaoXing back onto my shirt.
And went back out in an attempt to find the room where I would have class.