The library in the attic

Walking the short path from his dorm to the classroom was a task Midas quickly got used to. Getting clothed, passing by the fountain in the center of the school plaza, and then ultimately passing through the entrance of the main building—heading to the door of his class—all things the youth found himself already doing almost automatically. His mind was occupied by the new words he was taught the days before—he had a feather that he brought with him, but getting his hands on the paper that could hold onto the words he needed to practice and remember was slightly harder.

Even though he made sure to fully use any sheets given out by the teacher during the lesson, filling out their entirety by repeating the words over and over again, having a stockpile of additional paper he was able to use while staying in his dorm could prove beneficial. Asking the teacher could prove difficult since he didn't know the water kingdom's word for "paper" at the moment—Midas had been attending the university for about three days now; he needed to find someone who could fill in the blanks for him, someone who was able to speak his language as well.

Shoving open the wooden door to be greeted by an empty classroom, the orangey light of the morning sun shining onto the dark brown tabletops that were perfectly aligned in clear rows. The blue-eyed boy was still asleep, and Javelin's door was already locked when Midas headed out, most likely meeting his sister before the first lesson commenced. Seating himself on his stool, Midas looked out at the sets of distant houses, their roofs a muted orange. 

Avalon was the only one that could help him out, seemingly having vanished since the last time they met in the medical room—Midas was only able to guess where he was at the moment; the youth knew he was employed here—most likely already busy with his tasks, which is why he had no time to worry about Midas at the moment.

The classroom eventually filled up again; the seats around Midas were quickly filled in—one by one, they trickled into the room, giving each other a short greeting before commencing their chatter. The last one to enter was the mute boy, his short, ashen brown hair somewhat meddled, announcing his presence with a flat yawn as he headed upwards to his seat, ignoring the glances of the group clothed in green.

"I'm sure now... you have the choice of staying longer at this university once you manage to learn the water kingdom's language. And she might be clear evidence for that belief..."

Midas's stern stare onto his table softens at Javelin's words, raising his head to look at his thoughtful glance directed at the girl with pink hair—his proposed idea sounding believable, as she was already clothed in the uniform they were only able to get after they succeeded in the exams. Her size possibly also suggests she might be older than Midas or the two siblings to his right. Seeing her shift slightly forward to mirror their glances with a somewhat confused expression, Midas turned away.

"Maybe she needed more time to get a hold of using the language...? Perhaps she already knew how these professions worked, possibly being the reason why she crossed the third option on my paper as well..."

"I'm sure she knows things... she already helped out Jevaila with her writing and spelling during class yesterday. We might be able to speed up our progress when it comes to learning how to speak and write with her."

"You know—it's rude to talk about someone who can't understand you...?"

His sister eventually shut Javelin and Midas down; the two of them eventually stopped thinking about possible theories once their teacher entered the room. The two of her hands grasped the sides of her lectern as she began to announce something the five of them didn't seem to understand. While the blue-eyed boy began to doze away, Midas glanced at the pink-haired girl again—the flat smile on her lips suggesting she was able to understand what their instructor meant.

His attention was then grabbed by a word he was able to understand, "paser"—a" short word that stood out from the somewhat quickly pronounced sentences of their teacher. Its meaning being to walk—a gesture she drew with a plain picture onto the blackboard during one of his many classes. The process of her drawing a picture onto the blackboard while writing its respective formulation and pronouncing it multiple times after had burnt into his head—her way of teaching already bearing fruit as Midas managed to recognize his first foreign word he had taught himself.

Seeing her eventually halt her speech, the class mirrored her motion of turning to the door that led into the room—now being opened to reveal four students, all of them being guided by their respective guard, each of them holding up a banner that showed the four icons that were printed onto the paper from when they were tasked to choose a profession. Dim squabbles were eventually shut down as the first of the four students began to unroll the scroll they held in their hand.

The guard behind him held onto the banner of what seemed to be the craftsmanship profession; the student that stood in front of him was clothed in leather trousers and a matching jacket; the brown material was roughed up—tiny pockets were holding onto the belt that wrapped around his waist. The tone of the class quickly dimmed as he began to open his lips.

"Jevaila, Javelin..."

The student named different names they hadn't heard before. Javelin reluctantly stood up, unwillingly accepting the fact his sister chose to be a part of those who chose the craftsmanship-like profession. Hearing these names made Midas realize they were being gathered and sorted into the respective groups—the students in front of them most likely representatives of whoever led them. Midas nodded up at Javelin as the two of them saw the gesture of the student in front, waving those who stood up to come forward and gather—eventually heading out of the door once everyone chosen had come to him.

Around half of the class was missing by then; the student belonging to what seemed to be the guarding profession eventually strolled through the silent classroom, his voice much firmer—a sword strapped onto his back. As he raised up the scroll to look at it,

"Fathin, Yatthan, Bishof, ...Patriq…?"

Narrowing his eyes onto the scroll, as his voice sounded slightly more confused—seemingly unsure of how to spell these names correctly—the student lowered the scroll and closed it up. Two of the students clothed in green rose up; a tanned boy from the desert also stood as well—the blue-eyed boy eventually rose up at last.

"Patriq...?"

Midas dimly repeated, making sure it really belonged to the muted boy—making him turn with half-lidded eyes, briefly turning to look down onto him before eventually heading forward, leaving in a much smaller group. Midas counted seven remaining students in the room, including himself—already able to see the last of the four representative students sliding flat as the other stepped forward with a sufficient smile.

"Midas, Skye, Jakal, Padahim, Jorlandia, Himela, Revedia."

By then, judging by the fact he came first and Jakal third in the count, being the only one remaining in the third row from the front—Midas knew her name, "Skye"—the" sound of it was gravely different from the names belonging to the students that stood up in front of them; judging by their hair, Patriq also seemed to come from neither the south nor the north, somewhat similar to the pink-haired girl. Even though Patriq had crossed every option, unlike the rest of them—he wasn't placed in his first chosen profession, suggesting the university made sure to somewhat distribute the students among these professions.

Once they arrived in front, the girl that led their group glanced over at them, Midas and Jakal exchanged nods—the other boy in their group, seemingly also from the desert, placing himself next to them. The pupils behind her glasses eventually halted; her dim face eventually lightened up at the sight of Skye in front of her. Leaving the last representative with an empty classroom once she headed out of the door, leading the group through the halls of the university.

Her reaction made Midas think in silence, the three of them right behind their leader—forced to climb a seemingly unending amount of steps Midas and the rest of them weren't prepared for. If Skye really did stay longer, that interaction most likely suggests that the representative students leading them upwards must've also been attending this university before Midas arrived to take the exam—the two of them being the only ones not out of breath as they arrive at the end of the last staircase.

Leaning slightly onto the crimson wall to catch his breath, Midas raised his head; long red carpets stretched out in between unending sets of bookshelves grouped together; the room was lit up by circular glasses; in the center of the room was a collection of tables and cushioned seats, already used by students to study on. Hearing Jakal wheeze faintly to catch air, Midas looked at Skyes's face as it lit up, her eyes scanning the winding staircases that lead up to more floors—holding onto even more books.

Being guided to the center of the room, they were gestured to take the free seats that were lined up around a larger table. Midas offered his seat to Jakal—his legs clearly shaky, as the group watched a man with dark red hair walk towards them, clearly being Avalon—his hair matching the wall's color almost completely. His hand already extended to meet the confused glance of Midas with a dim smile, beginning an announcement—most likely a greeting in the northern tongue. Making the girls clothed in green eagerly nod.

"Now, as there are clearly people from the southern regions present... I will repeat my announcement, but please—don't tell anyone I spoke with you in this language... it's a complicated matter. Anyhow, I welcome you all to the club of literature, history, and language... As members of this club, you will have access to any of these books you are able to see in this room. You are free to use these resources however you like; just try not to slack off... hah. You are free to roam once I'm done talking; if you need any help or want to look for something in particular, come to me."

Midas and the other two boys widened their eyes, his assistant dimly talking over him to explain to the rest of them who were unable to understand the language of the south. His skills in teaching him now make much more sense, clearly being a teacher at this university.