Academy

Forsee.

Veronica Black, light mage, sharp tongued vixen.
Librarian.
I greet her, at the steps of the Great Library.
The building looms over me, aincent, concious, spiralling towers cascading above it like arms breaking into the morning sky.,
Black nods, lifting her cigarette to mouth.
"And the recruits?" I ask, shaking my head as she offers me a cigarette.
She bobs her head in remembrance.
"Ah yes. This dirty habit is too much for you."
She speaks in an English drawl, though I know nothing of her past.
These are not details often shared in the Academy.
Knowledge is power after all.
"There are a thousand ways to die in this world, cancer will not be my undoing."
She turns, a flash of light burning her ciggerette to ash as she walks up the Academy stairs.
"The recruits are fine, mostly. "She says, tying her long brown hair up.
I follow her up, and through the oaken threshold.
"Mostly?"
She shrugs.
"Some broken bones, bruises to ego."
She sits down on the helm of a long oaken table, laden with books.
And I come to a stop beside her.
"What are their names?" I ask.
Veronica glances up from the open book in her hand.
She'd surely already forgotten I was here.
"One, Akara. A lanky girl, blonde hair pale like death, cracked glasses.
Broke two thumbs."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Her thumbs?"
"One of Injabulo's girls. The pack of coyotes in denims he walks around with." She shrugs, stepping from the table.
"Which one?" I ask. Following her, as she makes her walk through the Library.
"You'll have to ask the girl."
The Great Hall is expansive, with high arching walls and a ceiling of brandished glass. Towers, dark and imposing, spiral above.
It smells of sage and old pages.
We walk amongst long oaken tables, dotted with mages of varying ability.
We all come here for our own reasons.
Many come seeking power.
I've walked deep into the Library with few, mages with minds like fire, ambition.
I knew a girl who would not sleep at night.
She had visions of eyes, and darting shadows.
Deep in the library.
She still walks now, a dreaming God, wandering.
To some the library is sanctuary, a place to sit, meditate, read.
A spiritual place of peace.
We pass rows of books, veering left into a large corridor.
At the end of it, we greet a living door.
He's very old, much older than the section of the library it protects.
The door stands 10 feet tall, a row of volumes as thick as my forarm stacked haphazardly to the ceiling.
One could mistake him for a simple pile of books, and turn, in search of more interesting things.
Oblivious to the Guardian of Zenna.
"We wish to speak to a youngling, new to your protection.
Her name is Akara. Of her surname I'm not sure." I say, trying to speak formally to the old spirit.
His answer comes deep from beneath the bones of the Academy, through the air and very walls themselves.
"You are welcome here, Sunspeaker." he answers.
Veronica laughs.
"The old crone never speaks to me." she sighs, turning her head. "He must have a crush on you."
I laugh.
"Sadly, three thousand year old manifestations of knowledge aren't my type"
Veronica nods, and waves her hands gracefully, the gateway ruptures.
Ancient volumes, thrown through the air like pages in the wind.
I shake my head.
"I see why he doesn't like you,"
I say stepping through the 8 foot hole carved in the mountain of books.
I step into Zenna, the hidden sanctuary of the library.
Where we all live at first, gathering our courage and strength, to face the mages of the Academy.
Black steps back in mock affront.
"Excuse me?" she says, a hand to her chest.
I shake my head.
"You're rude to him" I say, walking up the stone steps of the main compound, past a statue of a large girl with a staff in hand and many many arms running from her back .
An artifical sun lights an artifical sky above. And around us, trees bloom in perpetual spring.
The all encompassing mahogany doors to Zenna are always open.
"Yes yes, I have read Requiem. I know how I am expected to act, as a mage of the library." she turns, "But, I know my library. Don't worry."
I nod, waving over a young mage.
He's a short boy, with tame brown hair and scared blue eyes.
"Hello." I greet.
He bows, for some reason.
"Hi, ma'am." he says, in a mouse-like voice.
I shake my head.
"I'm Forsee." I say, "This is Veronica Black, she's a Librarian."
She greets him, with a smile like summer.
"Her job is to look after you, this place and anything that goes on in the library."
He nods.
"Nice to meet you." he says, looking down at his converse sneakers.
"Vice versa," I nod, "I'm looking for a girl. Blonde, pale, glasses. Two broken thumbs."
He looks up.
"Akara?"
"Yes, you know her?"
"Of course! We all know her."
I lean my head to the side.
And Veronica answers.
"Ah, oh yes! It seems I forgot to tell you she's a bit of a legend around here already."
"Take us to her," I say to the boy.
He turns, rubber squeaking against wood and we follow him up a huge spiraling staircase.
"I find it funny that, the most powerful mage born in the last 70 years would be sent here. It's a dangerous place to keep such an asset." Black comments.
I nod.
"This environment is... dangerous to say the least. We have a horrible mortality rate in comparison to the other schools.
Rue, Trinity, Marigold-"
"We're the fallout zone." Veronica says.
"Exactly."
We reach the end of corridor, and young mage turns right under a large arch into corridor with a rounded roof.
Kids stand and walk about, and it smells like marijuana in here.
We pass rooms, the doors are all open, literred with messy scenes.
"My guess is she's not an asset." I say.
Veronica stops for a second, before continuing.
"Continue...."
I nod.
"We are sent here for many reasons. Sometimes, because we are forgotten. Our powers too weak or arcane to be refined by normal means. So they throw us here, content to forget us.
Sometimes we are too powerful, and we are sent here to die.
Killed by creatures of the night, or the people who sleep amongst us."
Vernoica nods.
"Yes, I know."
We reach the second door in this corridor, lit by large windows.
"Though I believe, there's another reason. That we are sent here, to hide. We're a secret army. Nameless, savage. Weapons of mass destruction, hidden conveniently in a magical forest."
Veronica sighs.
"A grim proposition."
I nod.
"Indeed."
Veronica thanks the boy. And I dismiss him.
He scampers off, turning into a room after being called.
"And the relevance of this girl? Has she been sent here to die? Or hide?"
I knock on the door.
"We shall see."
A call from inside signals Veronica to open the door.
It's a bright room, bare though, with a single sleeping bag in the corner.
"I told you already, I didn't see the chicks who jumped me." says, Akara.
She's in black pyjamas and a loose fitting top, painting an intricate spiral pattern on her wall.
The Flower Of Life I believe.
A powerful symbol, but fickle, with world bending connotations.
"I remember," Vernoica nods. "Though, that's not why we're here."
"We?" Akara asks, wheeling around.
She cocks her head at the sight of me, reaching for an open bottle of peanut butter, which she tucks into with a plastic spoon.
"You where there, with the Angel chick." She says, pointing a peanut butter smeared spoon at me.
"Forsee Sulet, Sunspeaker, French. She nods, and steps closer.
"Binding mage, powerful. Very powerful. Ruthless."
She closes her eyes.
"Scary. "
When she opens her eyes once more, they're 9 shades paler.
An Oracle's eyes.
"What can I do ya for?" she smirks.
I smile, a devils smile.
"Akara, Oracle, Telepath, sage. You and I, have a lot to discuss."