Lies & Labyrinths

Lilith awoke in what she assumed to be the Headmaster’s office. She surmised this from the amount of bronze casts of figures that lined the walls behind the rather large mahogany desk, with a man the age of which she determined to be between seventy five, and three thousand years old. His eyes had taken on a near solid shade of dry red, and the skin beneath had drooped down like runny dumplings, which set to loosen the geography of the rest of his face southwards at a rolling pace. His nose protruded, and was cast with dozens of warts. He had long blonde hair at the tips that turned to grey at the roots, spilling over a loose fitting set of robes.

“Girls…” he said in a long raspy draw of breath that rattled the desk. “Why were we fighting?”

Lilith felt a pull in the air. The very act of breathing winded her, and she wasn’t sure if it was the gut punch from earlier, or a strange weight on her chest like a magical invisible cinderblock. She looked around from the eye that still could see beyond the swelling. She was in a heavy armchair similar to the one seated next to her, where Dwema seemed to be just as winded, struggling against invisible bindings that held them both in place.

“Headmaster, I-” Lilith began.

“Vice….Headmaster.” The Vice Headmaster interjected. There was a sudden swelling of whispers behind the man, as if all the various busts of the previous administrators were speaking at once.

“Siiiilenccce…” He uttered out towards the busts behind him. The voices hushed, The Vice-Headmaster sighing out an exasperated “...continue.”

“I used a poor choice of words and it offended this student, clearly. And I won’t do it again.”

Another lie. She flicked her eyes to Dwema, who was still scowling at her from her own position. They were so going to offend each other many, many more times.

“Is… what she says…true? This started… over… poor choices of words…?” The Vice-Headmaster drolled out.

“Yes sir…” Dwema managed through gritted teeth.

“Do I need to get the Headmaster?”

Dwema’s eyes lit up with sudden fear. “No, please!”

“Very…well.” The Vice-Headmaster said with a laborious gasp. The man lifted a hand to a silver bell on his desk, ringing it once.

The pair vanished from the room, landing with a plop on the ground right where they had originally been taken.

All students but Emil had dispersed, but an assortment of teachers now joined. Professor Arleigh of course stood amongst them, never one to miss out on disciplinary action. Besides him, flanked on either side stood a set of near identical twins, one blue and one red. Beyond them was what appeared to be a seven foot tall owl-person with bright gold eyes. There was also a human woman with long black hair and a midnight blue dress, with feathered collar and cuffs. She seemed the least interested of the group. Next to her, the most intrigued of the bunch, a woman with springy orange hair pulled back in a ponytail, with thick rimmed glasses.

“Little one, are you alright?” the orange haired woman asked.

“Yes ma’am.” Lilith said, slowly getting to her feet. Dwema was quick to start heading off, none of the other teachers paying any mind to stopping her. Enough time with the Vice-Headmaster was punishment enough.

“My name is Professor Gwendelia Inam. What’s your name?” the woman with orange hair asked, a warm smile on her lips. She reached out towards the wound, a light green glow spreading across from her fingertips to where Dwema had landed the blow, a relief that felt like mint upon her very soul undoing the damage and removing all traces of the scuffle. Nary a bruise would remain after the fact.

“Thank you, ma'am. It's Lilith Lavoi.”

The teacher’s face froze, hand still outstretched, her smile spasming as it twisted into the fringes of madness. The woman laughed, her eyes growing wider until Lilith could see all of the whites around her irises. Professor Inam took a deep breath, one that made Lilith involuntarily wince; she’d seen her own mother make such a face right before belting out a scream when she had been accused of bringing a pig into her parent's bedroom as a funny prank.

And scream Inam did.

“IT’S HER! THE HARBINGER OF THE END TIMES! THE SCOURGE OF THE SABLE LOOM! SHE WHO IS DAUGHTER OF LAW AND CHAOS!” The woman’s finger curled into an accusatory point, gnarled as the woman’s face drained of all color, slipping back and pressing herself flat against the nearest wall.

“And the cat!? Hah! I suppose that will be here too!?” She half laughed, half shouted, eyes flinging about in a manic panic.

“Gwen, what are you going on about?” the raven haired professor said, eyebrow raised sharp.

“The girl!” the woman sobbed, her voice returning to more manageable, if still shouted, decibel. “She’s the one! She’s the last prophecy!”

“There hasn’t been a prophecy in nearly twenty years, Gwenny.” One of the genii said, floating next to her and laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, and that means every other prophecy in the book is already active. I, I must leave.” The woman shrank from the hand on her shoulder, fleeing off down the hall with her robes fluttering behind.

At that exact moment, the black cat from earlier darted across the hall, tripping the woman. Professor Inam shrieked and rolled in tandem with the yowl and hiss of a startled cat.

“THE SIGN! THE CAT! AS WAS FORETOLD!” Professor Inam scrambled back to her feet, moving much faster now, taking a right and disappearing down an adjacent hall.

Lilith and the group of adults stood transfixed in the hallway, watching as the cat shook its fur out, then went trotting away.

“...Children I am so sorry that you had to see something like that. That was completely unbecoming of a professor, let alone an adult.” Professor Arleigh said, still staring in the woman’s general direction of retreat.

“What was she going on about?” Lilith asked, looking between the teachers.

The woman in the midnight robes spoke. “Professor Inam is our Divinations expert, and has devoted her life to the studies of prophecies.This is a dying art, and all up for interpretation anyway.”

“If that’s the case, why did she act like that?”

“She claims she found a prophecy addressed to her in the Book of the Unwritten End [8], where all such fables are written.”

“Now now, that’s enough gossip, Bella.” The owlperson said, tutting and hooting quietly as he brushed a wing around Emil. “Master Emil, I do believe you have a class you should be attending to.”

“But I was told to show-”

“And show you did, now run along. Bella, Miss Lavoi will be needing a room until she has been placed.”

“Yes, yes, I can put her in my guest wing…” The woman sighed, looking at the brunette once over. “Follow me.”

The woman was off without another word. Lilith hurried to keep up, finally having a match in the brisk pace department.

“My name is Professor Klymviner.” the teacher said as an introduction as she strode. “What power brought you here, young one?”

“Uhm...I don’t know.” Lilith said.

“That’s no surprise.”

“It isn’t?”

“Magic is a fickle thing. It comes in many forms and speaks in many tones, and not always in a language we can understand. When the school called me, I was no older than you. And, to let you in on a secret, I was unaware of my true ability for many years. And some of my associates were even Delta Dummies, as you so quaintly put it.”

Lilith gulped, hard.

“It’s okay. The pejorative has existed long before either of us. Children and alliteration, we’re drawn to it. I know the anxiety of being placed somewhere one does not. That is not what defines us.”

“No?” Lilith was quiet, looking up to the woman.

“No. It is what we do after.”

Bella stopped in front of a door, placing a hand against a metal panel. The doors retracted into the wall, revealing a rather small space, hardly bigger than a broom closet.

“Is this… your room?”

Professor Klymviner broke out into laughter, tilting her head back as she did. “No, child. This is a lift.” Professor Klymviner stepped inside, turning around and pressing a button. The door closed and the lift, well, lifted. Lilith braced herself against the fabric of the wall, a red velvet with a brass pole for such discoveries. The doors opened into an entirely different hallway altogether, to which Lilith whispered “Magic.”

“Machines, but it’s close enough to be magic.” Klymviner responded, stepping out into the second floor. Lilith followed close behind, legs far more wobbly than before. Never would she take solid, un-moving ground for granted ever again.

Deposited upon a different floor and with a quick trek around a few corners, Klymviner and Lilith arrived at a classroom adorned with dark violet curtains that hung over beautiful stained glass windows with images that seemed to dance in place. Orbs of light floated above each desk, and in the back corner of the room behind the tables in what appeared to be a student lab area, various glass beakers and burners lay next to scroll papers, for some sort of experiment. The wall on her right closest to the door was lined with large cabinets with tinted glass, some sort of material catalogued within each one.

To the left, past all of the tables, a large desk faced out. This must have been the professor's: It was larger, more well maintained, and the seat seemed far more comfortable than what anyone else had to work with. The entire wall behind the desk was a chalkboard, save for a rectangle in one corner with a doorknob. Professor Klymviner strolled ahead, heels echoing in the room, head slightly tilted as she moved towards the door disguised as part of the black-green slate.

“My classis a requirement at the Veilweavers, and as such you will be in my class no matter where you end up after tomorrow. So I’ll tell you now: I have shown you kindness today because you are not at this exact moment an official student of mine. I am the Head of Enchantments at the Veilweaver’s, and I believe that anyone can learn enchantments, down to the lowly Delta. I will not go easy on you. You will most certainly grow to hate me. But I can teach you power, true power, if you apply yourself in my class. I believe even a person without a drop of feyblood in them could learn to do magic. [9]

This is lucky, Lilith thought to herself. That’s the exact amount of feyblood I have in me.

Just inside the door beside the chalkboard was a small foyer, and two doors final doors. Professor Klymviner gestured to the one to the right, moving straight across to her own room. She held up her bracelet towards the keyhole, the stone glowing and the knob melting away completely as the bedroom door swung open.

“I know it’s rather early for you, but do try to get some rest. Dinner will be brought to you before sundown."

“Thank you, professor.”

“Think nothing of it.” Klymviner said, closing the door and locking Lilith in.

The room was spacious, with a nice library and a lovely studying table, as well as a bed. Lilith walked to it without another thought, curling up onto it, and as soon as the door latched itself shut behind her, felt a heave in her chest as the reality of her actions began to sink in. And so she cried, as even a girl of the age of nearly thirteen is wont to do when away from home for the first time in their life. She cried herself to sleep in fact, not waking for many hours as the first consequences of Lilith Lavoi’s lies truly began to arise.

That was also the night that the Knave of Spades appeared.

[8] Of all the books in all the world, nothing was more dangerous than The Book of the Unwritten End. It was said that the end of all things would come to pass in such a thing, and all the secrets, even those unknown to the author, were bound to come spilling out in such pages. All that it would take would be for someone to finish the last few pages.

[9]While there are many contentious debates held by professors in the teacher’s lounge and at faculty meetings that would say otherwise, the general consensus as to why mortals born in Temrin can do magic without aid of pact with devil, demon or djinn came from some ancient ancestor who had crossed paths with the fey. The most famous of those stories in Lilith’s homeland were of the enchantress, Morgan of the noble house Lafey.