When Professor Somhairle entered Oylla’s office, the first thing Olivia noticed about him was that his previously intimidating presence was much less so. He no longer seemed larger than life. Sure, he was tall, but he was so thin with such long, awkward limbs that he seemed more at odds with himself than imposing. Additionally, his otherworldly appearance was a shadow of what Olivia remembered. Perhaps it was because she’d spent so much time with Bronwyn after her racial advancement.

Somhairle had pointed ears, but Bronwyn’s were far more pronounced. He had big, mysterious eyes, but they were nothing compared to Bronwyn’s, Oylla’s, or, if she were being honest, her own. Still, he gave off an aura of cold, dark depths, and Olivia wondered if he had an affinity for water Energy. “Hello! Wonderful to see you again, Olivia, professor,” he said with a stiff little bow aimed primarily at Oylla-dak.

“Yes, good to see you, Professor. Please take a seat.” Oylla indicated the couch opposite them, where Yunsha had sat just a few minutes earlier.

Somhairle sat down, his knees jutting up awkwardly, and said, “Olivia, you seem rather different from when we spoke last. You’ve had some opportunities for growth?”

“Oh, yes. Quite a few, I’d say. When was it that we spoke? That time in the library, late at night? I think it was around the time I was accused of attacking that girl in the hallway. A bad time for me, all told.”

“Oh! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to drudge up bad memories.”

“Not at all. It does seem like a very long time ago, though, doesn’t it? Anyway, we have a full schedule today, Professor. Did you have some sort of interest in mentoring me?” Olivia could tell she was unsettling him by driving the conversation, and she appreciated Oylla remaining silent thus far.

“Well, yes. I had noticed your potential quite some time ago, and when I learned you were moving into a specialized program of study, I thought I’d be able to offer you some unique opportunities.”

“Such as?”

“Well, after doing some research, I’ve learned that your people, uh, humans, have a strong connection to the Fae. Do you recall how you seemed to think my name sounded familiar to you? It turns out my ancestors spent some time on your homeworld!” He spoke like he was revealing a great mystery, and Olivia couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face.

“That’s right, Professor. I’ve learned quite a lot about the Fae over the last few months. One of my dear friends has awakened a bloodline that has her looking a good deal more Fae than you, yourself.”

“Truly?” Somhairle’s eyes darted from side to side, giving tell to his nervous energy.

“Yes, though it seems I’ve very little of the bloodline. I’m something of a pure human, it would seem, though I’ve picked up some elemental aspects through an exposure of a different kind. In any event, I’m not sure I could benefit much from your specialized teachings, and even if I could, I’m not so sure our interests align. You see, I’ve learned a thing or two about the different Fae courts. I’m not so sure your goals for my people align with what we intend for ourselves.”

“You’ve had dealings with the Summer Court, then?” Somhairle’s lips pressed together in a barely contained sneer. “Is that why my calling card is no longer in your possession?”

“What an odd question,” Oylla said, finally choosing to speak.

“Very odd. Were you using that card to spy on me somehow? What makes you think I don’t have it any longer? This seems very irregular. Is such a thing appropriate, Professor Oylla-dak?” Olivia did her best to act scandalized, holding one of her hands in front of her mouth, widening her eyes, and scooting back on her couch, putting more distance between her and Somhairle.

“Professor, do you have something to say for yourself? What was the nature of your ‘calling card?’” Oylla leaned forward, affecting the opposite of Olivia’s body language, her lips curling back in a snarl to reveal her long, needle-sharp canines.

“This meeting hasn’t gone at all how I intended! My tongue seems to have run away with my brain. My calling card had a simple enchantment that would allow the holder to contact me at a mere thought. Naturally, such magics come with a connection to the caster; otherwise, it wouldn’t work. I can assure you that I had no nefarious ulterior motive when I gave the card to Olivia.”

“Do you mind me asking, Professor,” Olivia interjected, “Just how much Fae blood do you have? Would you call yourself half Fae? A quarter? I don’t mean to pry; there’s a reason for me asking.”

“Not nearly so much. I know I appear much like the tales describe the Fae, but as far as I know, my grandfather was half-Fae. Might I ask as to the reason for your inquiry?”

“Well, my friend,” Olivia paused and almost threw herself off by wondering why she was describing Bronwyn as a friend. She shook her head and soldiered on, “The one with the Fae Bloodline? She’s spent quite a bit of time with true Fae, and she told me they aren’t able to lie. That rule doesn’t apply to you, does it?”

“Are you implying that I’m being duplicitous at this moment?” Somhairle looked from Olivia to Oylla, then shook his head, his face reflecting feelings of naked disgust. “I can see someone has poisoned this well ahead of me. This meeting won’t go anywhere productive. Good day to you, ladies.” With that, he stood and stalked out of the office. Oylla didn’t try to stop him or even reply to his statement. When the door closed violently behind him, she looked at Olivia and grinned.

“You really pushed his buttons! I’ve never seen the mysterious Professor Somhairle lose his poise like that! What a fruitful meeting!”

“I’m sorry if I was a little too aggressive. I was hoping to throw him off balance, but I didn’t think he’d storm out!” Olivia smiled sheepishly, shifting back to a normal sitting position.

“Oh, he didn’t like the question about lying, that’s for sure. I wonder if it's true about Fae. Your friend really believes they can’t lie?”

“Yes, she does. It’s been the source of a lot of disagreements between us.”

“Speaking of your friends, Olivia, should I expect visitors from the new portal? I have a report from the Caretaker of the Travel Pavillion indicating that you’ve set it up.”

“Yes, I did! I’m sorry, Oylla. I meant to tell you this morning and assign you full permissions, but the murder in the hallway sort of jumbled my mind!” Olivia leaned forward earnestly; she wanted Oylla to believe her.

“Nothing to worry about, dear. We’ll finish these interviews and then take a walk over to the pavilion.”

“Who’s next?” Olivia poured herself another cup of tea from the little decorative pot, admiring the delicate orange and violet flowers that covered its surface.

“Another professor you should know, Gan-dak. I rather like him.” Oylla held out her teacup for Olivia to refill, watching her to gauge her reaction.

“Gan-dak? I don’t think I remember … Oh! The man who evaluated me when I first came to the academy?”

“That’s right!” Oylla made a show of pulling out a delicate crystal and silver device from a pocket in her robe and staring into it. “He should be here in just a few minutes. Do you have any thoughts?”

“He seemed really nice! When he saw what I could do with channeling multiple affinities, he warned me not to allow professors to recruit me immediately. Hah, I wonder if he was just looking out for his own interests or if he really wanted to protect me?”

“Probably a bit of both, if we’re being honest,” Oylla said with a sly grin. “Give him a chance, though. He’s well-liked in the academy and among the nobles of Persi Gables. You could do worse than having him as a benefactor.”

“I’ll keep an open mind.” Olivia didn’t have a hard time being pleasant with Gan-dak. He was as affable as the day she’d met him and spent most of his fifteen minutes complimenting Olivia on everything she’d accomplished. It was getting near the time when he’d have to leave when Olivia finally pushed the subject for which they’d made the meeting. Looking up into his bright mauve eyes, she asked, “Professor, I find you easy to talk to, and you’re one of the nicer people I’ve met at the academy, but what sort of work would you have me do if I took on your mentorship?”

“A wonderful question! I was wondering when the interview portion of this meeting would begin!” Oylla laughed openly at that statement, but he just grinned and continued, “Olivia, I will help you to perfect your spellcrafting. Our affinities don’t align, and I can’t teach you much about elemental magic, but I can teach you to craft clever, delicate spells that will leave your peers staring in wonder, their mouths agape as they struggle to understand what you’ve done. It’s all about discipline and the manipulation of threads in creative ways, and I’m quite good at it, you see. If you want to move beyond the simple cudgels that you wield now and learn to manipulate Energy into clockwork mechanisms so fine that a spider would be jealous, why then I’m the mentor for you.”

“Cudgels, Gan-dak?” Oylla asked with a chuckle. “Hyperbole won’t win Olivia over to your side. Some of her spells are quite elegant already.”

“Oylla! You undermine me!” He smiled wolfishly, though, reaching up to smooth back his long, black hair.

“I find your argument quite compelling, Professor,” Olivia said politely. “I’ve had ideas for spells that are far more complex than the ones I currently wield, and I’m not sure how to go about creating them. You’re saying that you could help me with such ideas?”

“Absolutely. Even Oylla will admit that my spellcrafting is an art unto itself!”

“He is talented; I won’t deny it,” Oylla said, still smiling. Was she flirting with Gan-dak? Olivia did a double-take, watching how the two of them grinned at each other. “Well, that’s your time, Gan. We’ll have a decision before the end of the week. Thank you for coming in.”

“Nice to see you again, Professor,” Olivia said, standing to shake his hand. It was strange being able to look him in the eyes. She remembered how intimidating he’d seemed when she first met him—he’d seemed so tall, and his red skin and long canines had seemed so otherworldly. He reached out and took her hand, smiling warmly.

“Regardless of your decision, Olivia, I hope you’ll come to me with some of your spell ideas. I’d love to help you figure them out!” He departed the office quickly, and Olivia sat down with a loud exhalation.

“Well, that earned him some points!”

“What? How he offered to help you, regardless of your decision? Come, Olivia, it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. He’s a good man, but he has plenty of personal projects he needs help on. You’d be invaluable to him as a colleague if not a mentee.”

“Still, he’s so charming …” Olivia looked at Oylla, hoping to see some hint as to her feelings for the man.

“Sure he is. A true gentleman, too, I might add. Now, you’re down to your last two interviews, and they’re both with people you don’t know. Shall I tell you a bit about them?” She paused, and Olivia nodded. “The first is with a young professor named Pria Peele. She’s a Ghelli who earned a name for herself similarly to you, though not so spectacularly. She has multiple affinities and gained the respect of most of the professors here when she was a student. Afterward, she successfully located and delved into a large dungeon near the Bogoli city of Zancryst. She brought back some of her findings and earned a professorship here. She’s the youngest tenured professor at Fainhallow.”

“She sounds impressive!”

“She is! The final interview will be with a man you might describe as Pria’s opposite. Chol ap’Vun is the oldest living professor at Fainhallow, and I wouldn’t have thought him a good candidate for your mentorship except that he approached me and said he was interested. I haven’t seen Chol interested in, quite literally, anything for several decades. To be honest, most of us tend to forget he even exists. That isn’t to say he wasn’t impressive in his day. No, that wouldn’t be right at all. When I was a girl, I was endlessly fascinated by tales of Chol ap’Vun and his exploits in various wars and dungeons.”

“You’re not going to make this decision easy for me, are you, Oylla?”

“No! What kind of professor would I be if I didn’t make you pull out a hair or twenty?”