Throne of Time [Magical Academy, Time Loop, Mystery]

Darkmoon University only seemed to have grown busier in the time Suria had been in the library, especially toward the north. The region occupied by arches and pathways was filled with students, many of them lounging on the fragments of stone. Strangely, not many were heading north toward the Hall of Thrones, which made Suria worry that it wouldn’t be easy to get in.

As she was trying to consider her options, Suria noticed a woman standing in the middle of the arch-littered field. Far from resisting the crowds, she was getting buffeted from side to side by everyone, despite the fact that most people were ignoring her.

”Do you need... umm... I’m here to...” The woman’s voice was barely audible over the crowd and failed to get anyone’s attention. She was a few years older than Suria and wore university robes that had been crisply pressed. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy braid and her skin had the grayish look that Suria associated with the local population - now that she looked closer, Suria realized this woman had been sitting near her at the opening feast.

”Do you need something?” Suria asked.

”Oh!” The other woman flinched back as if shocked someone had addressed her. ”No, no, I’m here to help! Are you a, umm, new student? Do you need any guidance?”

That was what Suria had sort of expected, but she shook her head slowly. ”I already got enrolled. I was hoping to learn more about the professors, but the Hall of Thrones is locked...”

”I can get us in!” The other woman gestured for her to follow as if her life depended on it. ”They just don’t want the new students to bother all the staff, but it’s fine if you’re quiet. I agree, knowing the thrones is really important. That’s why everyone is here, right? I mean, I guess maybe some are coming for other reasons, but I think that most people-”

”My name is Suria Northbrook,” Suria interrupted as they started to move across the campus. ”And you are?”

”Oh, I should have introduced myself! I’m Kiznua Linesh. Do you, uh, need to know more?”

”Are you a student here? Or a journeymage?”

”No, no!” Kiznua looked away, blushing furiously. ”I could never... I mean... no, I’m a student. A fifth year student. Wait, no, I mean, I’ve been here five years. This is my sixth.”

”I’m not really sure about where the line is, to be perfectly honest.”

”Well, you see... a student here is still a student, no matter how many seals they have, until they complete a program of study. If they finish and continue studying, they become a journeymage, but that usually means they need to teach classes and work within departments and I could never...”

At first Suria thought she might have found a potential ally, but as the chatter continued, she began to doubt it. Suria considered herself lacking in bravery and backbone, yet Kiznua made her feel like a domineering bully. The other woman hadn’t explicitly said it, but it sounded like her time at Darkmoon University had not been particularly successful.

Still, it might not have been a loss, because when they reached the Hall of Thrones, Kiznua was able to greet the men guarding the door. If they had put up even a little resistance, the other woman would probably have folded, but the guards shrugged and let them inside.

As soon as she entered the castle’s cool halls, Suria breathed a sigh of relief: everything was quiet and peaceful inside. She’d already seen that the interior didn’t match the grim castle, but now that the building wasn’t set up for the feast, she could examine the entrance hall properly: treated stone, a deep blue carpet, chandeliers of crystals floating in the arched ceiling. Unnecessarily large doorways seemed to lead to grand offices, but Kiznua gestured for her to head straight forward.

”Welcome to the Hall of Thrones, one of the oldest buildings on the university grounds,” the other woman said as she scurried forward. Her voice grew smoother as she settled into what sounded like a practiced speech. ”It’s used for certain ceremonies as well as important administrative purposes, but it also hosts some residences for faculty who choose to live on campus. The Aether Society has its meetings here, as well as the graduate student assembly and other prominent institutions.”

Their pace took them past the offices to a set of double doors, which opened into a cavernous circular chamber. A table of dark wood ringed the room except for the part of the circumference facing them, which opened into the center. Many chairs of dark wood were placed around it, focusing toward the door, but Suria’s eyes were immediately drawn to the massive portraits that loomed all around the walls.

Familiar faces, including many of the people she’d seen in the basement. This was what she’d come here for.

”This is the hall of thrones of the Hall of Thrones,” Kiznua said with a nervous giggle. ”Really, the whole building is named after this chamber, which is where the faculty meet heads of state or other important visitors. Please don’t think they usually sit under portraits of themselves, the faculty really aren’t like that! But each department throne is-”

”Why are they called that?” Suria asked.

”What?” Kiznua blinked back at her.

”Why is the head of each department called a throne?”

”Oh! People don’t usually ask questions, or not questions like that. Well, you see... back in the Age of Grief, all of Taedria was ruled by sorcerer kings and queens. When they had enough power to dominate a specific region, their seat was called a ’throne’ to indicate their supremacy. That’s long in the past, of course, but the term remained in use. Generally it means a mage who is the master of a field, so it just makes sense to use it for the top professors.”

That was a better answer than Suria had expected, after the other woman had appeared shocked by her question. She didn’t want to delay any longer, though, not when she could finally get the information she needed. Her eyes wandered over the portraits and she considered working her way up before she decided to just tackle her greatest fear: one of the portraits showed the marble statue she remembered mercilessly killing the other looper.

”Can you introduce me?” Suria asked with feigned casualness. ”Who is that?”

”Tollvard Rhamsolk is Throne of Transmutation,” Kiznua told her. ”I’m sure you want to ask, so yes: he transmuted his own body into a sort of magical stone. I think he was originally from the Republic of Junn, but he wasn’t a professor over there. They say he might have been involved in the revolution and the surviving nobles want revenge on him, which is why he had to change his appearance, but that could just be gossip.”

Suria nodded and kept a neutral smile on her face, even as she felt a sense of triumph. She wasn’t going to learn the deepest secrets of Darkmoon here, but this way she could get an insider’s perspective on all the professors. That would let her skip a lot of blundering and pursue more useful leads.

Her eyes slid around the walls until she spotted the elegant woman who looked severe despite her beautiful dress and perfectly pinned hair. ”And what about her?”

”That’s Lia Huen Rei,” Kiznua explained. ”Throne of Conjuring. She’s the newest throne, though she’s been here a few years longer than I have, so I’m just telling you what they told me. She’s from Nau Qin Nau, and I hope you don’t ask any questions about them, because I don’t know very much.”

There were going to be names and details coming faster than Suria could grasp, so she just tried to tuck everything away for later reference. She hadn’t been confused by the Republic of Junn and its revolution, since that was close to home, but she knew basically nothing about Nau Qin Nau.

”What’s she like as a person?” Suria asked. ”Or a teacher, I mean.”

”Oh, she’s strict.” Kiznua twisted her lips like she’d tasted something sour. ”Every year she teaches a big course and she fails nearly everyone. She teaches magical law, too, and they say she’s ruthless with contracts. But she’s always involved with business, and she’s not on campus except to teach, and so I don’t really know much about her.”

Except Professor Huen had made time to speak to the other professors about whatever conspiracy they had been discussing. Suria tore her gaze away to get through the other professors before they were interrupted or Kiznua ran off. Fortunately, the next portrait was a familiar face: pale and ageless, though the painting didn’t communicate the depth of her eyes.

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”Frunah Gwaslos,” Suria said with a smile. ”Throne of Healing, right?”

”Well, we say Throne of Medicine, but yes.” Kiznua smiled up at the portrait. ”She’s very nice. I had trouble fainting in my first year and she made a potion for me that helped so much. It’s funny, she and Professor Rhamsolk are the two thrones from Junn, but I don’t think they really talk to each other. Maybe because Professor Gwaslos has been here for decades longer. She doesn’t look it, but she’s over eighty years old! They say most of the professors have so much magic their aging has slowed and... umm... I guess that isn’t part of the tour...”

That was impressive, but Suria was more concerned about the professors’ moral fiber. Frunah Gwaslos was the only one to leave the meeting and never be involved in Suria’s death... that didn’t mean she could be trusted, but Suria still hoped to join the healing program and find an ally.

”Next we have... oh dear, did you hear?” Kiznua shifted uncomfortably as they stared at the next portrait.

It was the silver-haired man she remembered so clearly from her very first loop, who had stared at her with such a tragic expression. In his portrait he looked much more imperious, staring off into the distance with hard eyes. The name plate on the bottom said his name was Zaasif Drazen.

”Professor Drazen chose to leave the university,” Kiznua said in a near-whisper. ”I don’t understand why, since he was such a popular professor. Maybe he thought he could find a better position, though I don’t see how anywhere could be better than Darkmoon.”

”What’s his department?” Suria asked.

”Oh, he was Throne of Perception. And he’s from the Court of Vedraz. They say that he was heir to a dying magical family and he completely turned things around before coming here. I, umm, don’t know very much more about him. He would often pick out promising students to mentor, but he never picked me.”

None of that helped Suria explain what had happened to her. She had a vague sense that the Court of Vedraz was one of the old sorcerous empires, still ruled by ancient noble lines that had magic in their blood. She didn’t know anything about Vedraz in particular, though, or whether the silver hair might have anything to do with his ancestry.

And, of course, she still didn’t know what exactly had happened to him. He had clearly been involved in the conspiracy in the basement and she could be certain he hadn’t simply left for professional reasons.

”We’re going around the circle, right?” Kiznua looked nervous even saying that much, but when Suria nodded, the other woman beamed and continued. ”Okay, next is Nulphus Abouric. He’s the Throne of Naturalism, and he knows so much about magical plants even though he’s one of the younger professors. Oh, and he’s from the Akrashic Union. His early classes are very easy, but I hear his upper classes are incredibly challenging. I haven’t, umm, gotten that far.”

Nulphus Abouric had been another of the professors in the basement, though he hadn’t said very much. His portrait looked just the way she remembered him: an unassuming pale man wearing a low hat. After looking for anything useful, Suria moved on to the last professor she remembered from the basement meeting.

The old woman had the same dark skin and chaotic hair Suria remembered, but in her portrait her back was straight and she was dressed in full formal robes. She had the same gleam in her eyes, though, and it almost seemed like she was going to reach out of the portrait to grasp something.

”That’s Slagterwese, Throne of Alchemy. She - oh, umm, she doesn’t have a last name, I don’t think. Sometimes they call her ’Grand Dame Slagterwese’ but that’s just...” Kiznua looked apologetic, as if this was a personal failing. ”Some cultures in the Shantic St-”

”I’m familiar with the Shantic States,” Suria said. They were east of home, though she hadn’t visited personally, so it was hard to deduce anything further. Darker skin there usually meant someone was descended from one of the old royal families, but some of the southernmost States had old lines with pale skin, so even that couldn’t be taken for granted. There was so much variety that it was hard to draw any conclusions. ”What’s she like?”

”She’s mean.” Kiznua whispered even more than she had when she had discussed the absence of a full professor. ”I only took one class with her. Never again. But... I guess I have to say she’s very fair. Some of the other professors... well, not usually the thrones. Some of the journeymages will show favoritism to people from their home, or defer to the richer students. But Slagterwese doesn’t care. They say a prince tried to bribe her and she threw a bottle of acid at him.”

It was hard to know how to take that, so Suria just remembered for later. Those were the six professors she’d seen in the basement, yet there were three more portraits and it didn’t look like Kiznua wanted to stop. These three might not be part of the conspiracy, but they could be important to her education. For that matter, they might be her allies if they weren’t involved.

”The next one is Eortrax Nullsah,” Kiznua continued. ”And he, uh...”

The next portrait didn’t look like it belonged: unlike the others, Eortrax was shirtless with the hide of some beast wrapped around his shoulders. His body bulged with a level of muscle that seemed frankly unnecessary and his shaved head was covered in scars. It was hard to tell in the portrait, but his skin might have been a shade of crimson she’d never seen before.

”Professor Eortrax is Throne of Enchantment,” Kiznua told her. ”He’s from Endelyth, which isn’t far away from here. But they’re not usually like... that. Some people say he’s not much of a professor and doesn’t deserve to sit with the other thrones, but they also say he defeated the last Throne of Enchantment in personal combat, so...”

”Have you taken a class with him?” Suria asked.

”Oh my, no! Umm, they say he’s good at Enchantment, but most of his classes seem much too violent for me. He’s sponsor of the Fire Society, you know, and heads up the combat sessions. One time he literally threw a whole table of nobles out a window! I’m not just gossiping, I saw them all on the ground under the broken table.”

If Eortrax was a mage who fought with brute power and little subtlety, it might make sense why he hadn’t been invited to the clandestine meeting. But the next professor hadn’t been there either, and he looked just about the opposite: the portrait showed an old man with wrinkled tan skin, a shock of white hair, and bushy sideburns. Even in his portrait he looked hunched and a little near-sighted.

”That’s Anstell Milirent, Throne of Evocation.” Kiznua sighed and shook her head. ”Some people say he’s boring or confusing, but I don’t understand that at all. He really loves his subject, I think he’s just been studying it so long he forgets what it’s like to be a student just beginning to learn. They say he has more publications than anyone in the school and important mages come from all over the world to consult with him on all kinds of spells.”

That left one portrait, over the central chair opposite the entrance. At first Suria didn’t recognize the handsome older woman in the painting, then she slowly made the connection to the Archthrone of Darkmoon Academy. She had been old and well-preserved when the portrait had been painted, but in the hall, slumped in her seat and surrounded by a nest of hair... it was hard to see any of the sharp-eyed woman left in her.

”Archthrone Sanqual Hesbath,” Kiznua said with a respectful bow. ”They say that she’s forgotten more magic than most mages learn in their entire lives.”

Suria couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow and ask, ”Is that a good thing?”

”Well... it’s sad that she’s getting older. But they say on her good days, she’s still one of the best mages in the entire world. Many of the strongest glyphs built into the university can only be renewed with her help. She doesn’t teach classes, of course, but she has such an extended family, she’s still a central pillar of Darkmoon University.”

But the much younger faculty hadn’t invited her to the meeting. Suria was sure there was more to discover there, she just guessed that the Archthrone had more to do with the shape of the challenge than any new conspiracy.

”I guess that’s the tour.” Kiznua began shifting around anxiously, looking back toward the door. She had been lively as she settled into the explanations and now her cheerfulness began ebbing away. ”Unless... was there something else?”

”No, that was what I wanted, thank you.” As they headed out, Suria glanced over at the other woman and asked. ”Who becomes Throne of Perception now, with Professor Drazen gone?”

”Oh, umm, nobody. Other professors will take over administration of the Perception department, of course, but you can’t become a throne unless you’re an archmage. More than an archmage - the university has very high standards! Apparently once the Throne of Conjuring was empty for almost four years because they couldn’t find someone worthy of it...”

Just before she left, Suria looked over her shoulder one last time to get a good look at the portraits. The professors here were apparently legendary archmages of wildly different types... and they were the ones she’d need to deal with if she wanted to learn the truth.

On their way out, Kiznua continued reciting more facts about the history of the university. She seemed simultaneously anxious to linger and anxious to let Suria go, trying to shift the conversation into other sorts of tours. Suria had spent too long navigating these politics, however, and as soon as they were back out in the chaos of the campus, she realized that she was done.

When Suria said her farewells Kiznua looked crushed, but the other woman was an adult; surely she could handle herself. Now that Suria had more books and more information about the professors, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her room and choose her classes.

Almost everyone was busy with their own affairs, so Suria was ignored on her way back and almost jumped when someone suddenly came up beside her.

”Have you chosen your classes yet?” Maut-mai asked her, without introduction. ”Some of the smaller classes fill up early, you know.”

”I’m still figuring that out, but I have a meeting with the Medicine department,” Suria said. ”I haven’t seen you since you went to the Cerulean Sanctum, did that go well?”

Maut-mai sniffed and looked away. ”Really rather disappointing. There’s political advantage in such mingling, certainly, but I found them to be so stuffy. Everyone just wants something from you.”

”You were... going to meet other nobles, then?”

”Yes, everyone is figuring out their positions relative to one another. Febek-Rai has stood apart from much of the world for so long, there’s much to be gained. But we don’t need them, and I don’t need them, so I’d like to go back to our room.”

”I’d like that too.” Suria smiled as they walked, and found that she didn’t mind that her roommate was likely to chatter. Even aside from asking about class choice again, Suria might learn something or at least have an interesting conversation.

She knew that it wouldn’t last, though. Tomorrow she would have another interview and, even if this one didn’t get trapped in a time loop, it could prove much more challenging.