Chapter 330 – Twee

Chapter 330 – Twee

No. Definitely not.

Cassian wiped the recording from the crystal cube and set the last file atop the discarded pile—by now, it towered over his desk. He would have burned them, if not for his secretary’s nagging about waste.

How could someone born with every advantage accomplish so little? It was shameful. Too many old bloodlines had grown stagnant, using their position as a pedestal to look down rather than a foothold to climb higher.

If their inanity didn’t bleed into the wider Republic, he’d gladly watch them fall when the wake-up call came. Alas…

Cassian exhaled a slow breath.

It’s not a bad year.

Many professors viewed the Winter Intake as fodder to fill out the ranks and motivate current students. The belief held some merit. From a thousand new intakes in Mana Studies, less than a third finished the first year, and the number fell to a tenth by the end of the second.

Still, there were always surprises. And this year, they were particularly plentiful.

His gaze settled on the thirty-four files he had selected. Those would join his personal archive to observe—a privilege of being the dean.

He rarely misjudged students, and the first-year trials were specifically designed for that purpose. There could be no growth without true stakes.

One step at a time.

Cassian stored the files in his orichalcum ring—all except for two. He skimmed the examiners’ notes, letting his skills form a more complete picture. Both were interesting in their own ways, though only one required an urgent decision.

Rain Ryuu. Almost certainly a false name.

A foreign youth welcomed by the Republic. If the boy was a spy, he had put remarkably little effort in concealing his origins—too little to even be intentional. And what kingdom would send an agent with such talent?

Not even the immortal kingdoms.

The story here was more complex, or perhaps simpler.

Cassian smiled as a knock sounded at his office door. Boldness and subtlety both had a place. He could spend all night speculating, or find the truth from the source.

“Enter.”

Gladys opened the door. Glancing at the files piled beside his desk, her stern wrinkles smoothed into almost-approval. “The student you requested.” She stood aside with a shallow bow and let in the subject of his musings.

Interesting.

Rain Ryuu entered his study with no hint of wariness, nor flinching when the door shut behind him.

Cassian had never cared much for appearances—least of all in students—but the boy had something magnetic about him. What was it? The snowy hair and light amber eyes revealed new shades as the light touched them, but he had seen more dazzling combinations. Was it the shape of his features then? Something in the proportions that spurred him to keep looking. Almost like…

Elowen.

Though the student looked nothing like her, he carried a similar otherworldly presence. It seemed glaring now. Those memories refused to fade even after a decade of attempts.

Not to reminisce.

“Come, take a seat.” Cassian gestured to the free chair. Acting nonchalant, he stacked a few stray documents beneath a brass songbird paperweight. “Excuse the chaos. I haven’t had time to clean up.”

The student surveyed the artifacts and ancient tomes on the shelves with calm curiosity. As he approached the desk, the amber eyes moved onto Cassian. Where even professors and senators tended to avert their eyes, Rain Ryuu openly held his gaze.

No mere child could face a fifth circle mage without faltering—not unless it weren’t their first time meeting an individual at Blue.

Why is he making it that obvious? Or he just… doesn’t care?

Cassian couldn’t recall the last time that happened. After reclaiming his position in House Astares, every person around him wanted something; whether knowledge, favors, wealth, or just his approval.

But the boy didn’t care for his status, no more than for his secretary in the hall.

Cassian almost laughed. His heart quickened to a beat every few seconds, excited by the discovery. Rain Ryuu was most definitely not human.

And he’s not wearing a disguise.

His skills and wards had both agreed: no artifact, illusion, or biomancer stitchwork. The boy’s flesh was as real as his own.

Few species could pass as human—fewer still if he excluded those from myths or long extinct.

Two possibilities.

A shapeshifter would have used a more subtle approach. It was in their nature to blend in. Even when they hid in plain sight, they still hid.

A siren.

That explained the boy’s self-assurance. The arrogance of races that never had to fear a bigger predator. Cassian was familiar with it.

The question is why he’s here…

“You wished to see me.” The boy took the initiative to speak. His voice was pleasantly musical, though harmless so far from the sea.

Cassian slightly smiled. “I assume you know why.”

The boy pursed his lips, taking his time. “Yes.”

“Twee.” A merry note came from the paperweight on the desk—a songbird of brass and blue enamel. While its species was long extinct, the enchanted copy survived the millennia.

Truth.

The boy looked at the artifact, guessing at its purpose.

“I highly value honesty,” Cassian said. He had excavated the songbird himself from a ruin in the Golden Coast. Not the most powerful truth-scryer he possessed, but it was ancient and hard to fool.

Indeed, it might be the most feared artifact in the entire collegium. Revered professors paled and stammered at its sight when he summoned them. Contrary to common belief, he had found that displaying a truth-scryer could be more effective than hiding it.

Rain studied the bird’s tilted head, not worried, only curious and… fascinated? “Could you tell me where I can find one?”

That is a first.

“Nowhere that I know.” He gently brushed the blue feathers. “The people who created this artifact have long since disappeared.”

“Sorry, I meant the bird they used for inspiration.”

Is he…

Cassian leaned back in his armchair—the boy looked totally serious. “I’m afraid the species has also gone extinct. People believed they could tell the truth from lies and captured them till none remained.”

“I see…” Rain slumped with disappointment. When he looked up, his gaze was clear again. “So, are you going to expel me?”

Not wasting time. Good.

“Should I?” Cassian asked back, letting the question hang. “Raelion was founded to help youths grow to their full potential, away from external interests. Contrary to some of my predecessors, I don’t care about who my students were before enrolling. Only about their intentions here.”

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He studied the teen across from him. “You must know your presence is unusual. Who sent you to Raelion?”

“No one. I came on my own.” No hesitation in the answer or nervousness on his face.

“Twee.” The songbird announced its decree.

Cassian laced his ringed fingers on the rim of the desk. “Do you have any ulterior motives for enrolling?”

“No.” Again, Rain showed no hesitation.

“Twee.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cassian said. The second truth-scryer on his finger confirmed the boy believed that was the truth. Another advantage of having the songbird on display—no one thought to look for a second artifact.

Still, that didn’t explain why a siren enrolled in his academy.

Is it truly a whim?

Applying human common sense to other races was futile by definition, especially to those born so high. At the same time, forcing certain answers wouldn’t be wise till he had a complete picture.