"What does that mean?"
I peered at the carving Pelit was pointing to.
"May Merleau show... the path? The way? Towards sanctuary for the faithful? Yes, for the Faithful."
"Hmm, hmm... what about this one?" Pelit moved along the wall.
I squinted.
"...Man against monsters... or goblins? Wh... where in the hell is Rimel? How long have we been standing here?"
We had been standing outside the dormitory door for an alarming period while Pelit endlessly quizzed me on ancient Aramaic after I casually mentioned it was the language depicted in the carvings.
"He is taking centuries," Pelit complained, throwing a wink at a pair of girls who walked past.
He didn't even blink when they ignored him completely.
I had to smile at his resilience. His confidence was admirable; he carried it like a protective shield.
"You really shouldn't have given him that book, brother," Pelit continued.
I was already regretting it.
"Talk about hindsight," I pulled a piece of parchment from my jacket. "He needs to hurry. Look at this list!"
Pelit peered over the voluminous document, which contained dozens of required books, materials, clothing, and a bunch of items I had never heard of, all needed just to start the year.
"What in God's name is cantle?" he pointed.
Pelit knew even less than I did about these things, and all of it was needed, ideally, by tomorrow.
Finally, our missing third arrived, bearing things.
"What are those?" I asked, walking closer.
"I just met with Milan. Boy, is his sister furious with you. Anyway, they forgot to give us these."
He handed us a black, fitted robe and a pair of decent-looking pendants.
"The robes are for convenience—"
"And they look good!" Pelit interjected, sharing a high-five with me.
"—and the pendants are essentially the same as the badge we wore with the Border Control, signifying our affiliation with the school," Rimel concluded.
He slipped his robe on and fastened the pendant, which depicted two wands crossed over one another. We examined each other's appearance.
"We look cool," Pelit declared, patting his fabric.
"We look intelligent in these," Rimel adjusted his.
I agreed with both statements. They were comfortable yet stylish.
We started our journey toward the forest—or at least we tried—until a sharp, crabby voice reached us.
"Hey!"
We collectively jumped a little.
"Her voice is truly high-pitched," I complained, turning around.
"It is also unbecoming of a lady to call people out in such a manner, I believe," Rimel added primly.
Lor Orlean, flanked by Leyla and Irina, was marching toward us menacingly.
"Dum dum dum... dum dadadum dum dadadum..." Pelit hummed the Imperial March out loud.
We nearly doubled over with laughter as they closed in.
"Wh... what is the source of this 'fun bomb'?" Lor demanded, already looking offended.
What in the hell was a 'fun bomb'?
"Nothing. How may we assist you, Miss Orlean?" I waved her question away.
She seemed to take offense at being called by her family name.
"...Well, why did you start laughing?" she persisted.
Pelit couldn't help but oblige.
"It is a joke, you see, based on the juxtaposition of three beautiful girls marching toward us like in the movie..."
"Hush, you," I stopped Pelit's exposition dump. We were already late. "With all due respect, we have an extensive list of necessities to gather. If you don't mind, just state your purpose."
The girl seemed to take offense again. Apparently, being formal and inquiring about motives was frowned upon.
I sighed and waited. Admittedly, she was somewhat amusing.
Even the girls around her—Leyla and Irina, if I remembered correctly—shared knowing glances and stepped slightly aside, as if anticipating some kind of verbal explosion.
"Well... we came to offer you further assistance with assimilating better into the lives of..."
Lord God. Her tone and facial expressions, not to mention the overtly pretentious way she spoke, were rapidly getting on my nerves.
"...normal school students. Also, I believe I instructed you to find me outside when you were ready to leave for the Headmaster's office. That was hours ago."
She stopped and waited.
I supposed an apology was in order. Let it never be said that the Aslan family was incapable of admitting fault.
"Ahem... My apologies for the inconvenience, Miss."
I added the last word and enjoyed watching the expectant smile instantly vanish from her face.
She was truly about to explode, but her friend intervened.
"Apology accepted. Now, you mentioned a gathering of things...?"
"Irina, correct?" I offered a genuine smile.
"Um, yes. Hello."
We shook hands officially.
"Irina... very well. Listen here, Irina..."
I was having too much fun watching how much my informal address to her friend annoyed the Orlean girl.
"...Your Headmaster, brilliant as he might be, forgot to inform me that we might need more than just ourselves to begin school... and this."
I waved the list.
"Needs to be completed. And the last thing I require now is three slightly hyperb—"
"You girls should absolutely come with us is what he means," Pelit shoved me aside before I could finish. "As you may know, we are all brand new to this. Are we not?"
He turned to the girls.
Occasionally, he was quite smart. At least he prevented me from offending these ladies who truly seemed to want to help—I supposed.
"Absolutely. Right, Ferith?" Rimel affirmed.
"...Yeah, no. Totally. Now let's go."
"Don't you require a guide? I shall take the lead, thank you very much."
Lor Orlean strode past me with the silent Leyla and the relatively talkative Irina close behind her.
This should prove entertaining.
——
The town of Etien was one of the oldest and largest magical settlements ever created. It boasted hundreds of years of pure magical history. Countless battles, famous duels, and legendary figures had been born and lived within its bounds.
In the New Age, most major magical brands maintained a shop here, and it even possessed its own police force, who styled themselves the Sentinels.
I could tell just by their names how they must be the life and soul of the parties they attended.
"...and this here is our first stop: the Bank of Etien. You can withdraw necessary funds here or make deposits..."
This was precisely why I hadn't wanted them to come. The constant chattering felt like being trapped on one of those mundane tourist buses. And what was with her persistent over-reliance on the words, "this here"?
"...let us proceed together. We have several things to purchase in town as well," Lor declared.
I was led inside by Lor, with the others following closely.
"So tell us... how much are you worth?" Pelit asked, catching up to me.
"I honestly have no idea," I answered.
"What will it look like? Like in the movies? Just piles and piles of notes in great bulks?" he continued.
I steeled myself, knowing Rimel would answer soon.
"It is not a heist film, Pelit. People do not store their currency like that," he snorted.
He had a point.
"Like you would know how rich people store their money?" Pelit asked sarcastically.
He had one, too.
"You have never made a withdrawal before?"
Irina walked beside us. She seemed comfortable enough to speak like a normal person, unlike her friends.
"I... well, I was never here, you know. I didn't need to..."
My friends exchanged glances, likely recalling the times we had to gnaw on wild berries when we missed a meal.
"...ahem... you know," I ended clumsily.
She seemed to understand the gist of it just as we arrived in front of several magical teller machines.
The girls, including Leyla, stepped in front of one each and produced their cards.
"Like normal ATMs... how utterly lame," Pelit remarked.
Lor noticed us standing around.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked.
I took out the intricately crafted key my uncle had given me. "I don't believe this will work."
"Of course. The Aslan family would maintain a private vault. Please wait a moment," she muttered to herself, then turned and walked toward a security desk.
We used the time to scope the surroundings. Mostly marble, which was excessive. A bunch of people performing the same routine as the girls. A few guys who looked like security. Why were they wearing—
"For what purpose would they select yellow as the color of their robes?" Pelit voiced my exact thought.
"Hmm," I hummed.
We both looked at Rimel and waited patiently.
"What? I have no idea... I mean, obviously, I do, but I am done explaining things to you savages," he complained.
We teased him lightly until the girls finished their business. Lor then turned back to me.
"Come, I will show you who to speak to about that key."
I nodded, and she walked to the nearest guard.
She certainly showed me. Sigh.
After a brief exchange, the man walked back with her. I checked his name tag. Branch Manager Terry B. Yendel.
I guessed the yellow robes were just their official work attire.
"Good day, sir. The lady informed me about a key you possess..."
He waited until I handed over the key. After a few seconds of examination, he smiled and gestured for me to follow.
"I see. Fantastic. Please follow me, Mr.—"
"Ferith Aslan."
He paused for a fraction of a second, but after a curt nod, he led us through a door and toward an elevator.
This is where he inserted his own card, and we descended... for quite a while.
45... 46... 47... 77... My God, how deep did this thing go?
We stopped at the eighty-eighth floor.
Eighty-eight floors deep!
I had expected a desolate, stone cave, so I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped out into a modern, massive glass atrium.
Soft music played. There was a staff of beautiful women and comfortable couches.
The lights were provided by various amazingly carved mythical creatures, all glowing brightly, flying around and following an intricate, mesmerizing pattern.
"Whoa... this place is incredible," Pelit vocalized all our feelings.
"This way, Mr. Aslan," the man walked ahead and directed us toward the comfortable couches, where we waited until he spoke to one of the ladies at the main desk.
Pelit immediately started once the man left.
"What the actual hell? Dude..."
"Calm yourself, Pelit. Let us not embarrass Ferith here," Rimel tapped his hand, looking nervous himself.
I grimaced, thinking, when has that ever stopped them from doing anything?
The girls took the couch opposite us.
"It is normal. The Aslans are an ancient family. These vaults were constructed hundreds of years ago," Irina explained.
"Hmm... as in... by Dwarves?" Rimel asked, inching forward.
"Exactly!" she proclaimed, startling her friends.
"Sorry, sorry... but yes! One of the masterpieces of a now extinct race. How incredibly fascinating is that?"
Her eyes grew wide—a little disturbingly so. The alarm bells went off in my head for some reason.
It was of no concern to Rimel.
"I wouldn't simply call it interesting—it is history itself! I have read all I can find about the ancient races... it is all very fascinating. I acquired the newest book just today!"
He absent-mindedly tapped my knee, where the book was tucked away.
"Which one?" Irina asked eagerly.
To my surprise, he pulled the heavy book out of his robes. Of course, he brought the damn book.
Pelit and I leaned back with an identical look of dead-eyed acceptance.
Who cares? It's not like my uncle told me to hide it.
As the duo discussed the book, we accepted some water from a circulating staff member. From the looks of Lor and Leyla, they were used to their friend's eccentricities, just as we were with ours.
Kindred spirits in forced boredom.
Like an angel, the Branch Manager returned, making them instantly cease talking.
"Apologies for the wait. Are we ready?" he asked politely.
"Yes, please."
"God, yes."
We all stood, but the man didn't move.
"Mr. Aslan, usually customers of your family's caliber prefer to enter their vaults alone. But the decision is absolutely yours."
I glanced at the others, who all looked like they were dying to get in—not even Lor could conceal her curiosity. Then, a few deliciously evil thoughts passed through my mind.
"No. They are all coming. It's fine." I nodded.
They all collectively sighed in relief behind me.
"Very well, sir. This way."