The office was small, and the administrative worker was friendly in the professional way of someone who had done this many times and decided it was easier to be warm than not.
The psychological counselling offer came first. Hermes refused it crisply, and the interview moved on without ceremony.
"Would you mind telling me about the type of Aspect Ability you received? Combat, sorcery, utility?"
Utility was the honest answer. His Ability made potions. That was it. What those potions did depended entirely on what he brewed into them. Sometimes that could be combat related, sometimes not. The Ability itself was simply a process.
But if he said utility they would want to know what kind. Then he would have to explain it. Combat was simpler. The follow-up questions were more predictable and easier to deflect.
"Combat," he said.
Which was not entirely wrong.
The interviewer nodded and moved on.
"This next question might seem obvious, but I'm required to ask it as a matter of policy. Are you able to directly deal damage with your Ability?"
Hermes thought about it.
His Aspect Ability made potions. The potions transformed him. Only after the transformation could he deal damage. The Ability itself had no direct combat effect at all. It was several steps removed from anything that could be called damage dealing.
"…No?" he said.
The interviewer paused. A small confusion crossed his face. It was the particular confusion of someone who had just received an answer that did not fit the category it was supposed to fit. Combat Aspect Ability, no direct damage. The combination apparently did not compute.
Hermes did not elaborate.
He answered the remaining questions in a similar fashion. Technically accurate, carefully incomplete, aimed at the narrow target of appearing normal. Not weak and harmless like the strategy used by Sunny. Just normal. Unremarkable. A Sleeper with an unusual Aspect that did not fully make sense yet and had not been tested. Nothing worth a second look.
He left the office satisfied with his performance.
Back in his room he undressed and got into bed.
Hmm.
The bed his dormitory leader had grudgingly surrendered to him during the Nightmare trial had been better than this.
That was his last thought before he fell asleep.
Morning arrived. He brushed his teeth, took a longer shower than was strictly necessary, and headed for the cafeteria.
It was crowded and loud. Almost immediately he understood why.
The rankings had been posted.
Everyone was looking. Some with satisfaction, most with the particular expression of people who had expected better and were now processing the gap between expectation and reality.
He found his own name.
Sixty-seventh.
Hm. He had expected the eighties. Sixty-seventh was respectable.
He moved on.
A commotion near the centre of the cafeteria drew his attention. He looked over.
Caster stood there. Tall, well dressed, with the easy confidence of someone who had grown up knowing exactly where he stood in every room he entered. He bowed slightly toward Nephis with the careful formality of someone performing a social ritual they had rehearsed.
"Lady Nephis. I am Caster of the Han Li clan. I see that your trial went well?"
Nephis looked at him with the expression of someone who had been asked a question they found mildly puzzling.
After a moment she smiled. Bright and practiced. Then she shrugged.
"It is what it is."
Caster returned the smile with slightly less conviction than he had started with.
"I see. I am very glad that you returned unharmed. Not that I doubted your abilities."
"Thank you," Nephis said.
She returned to her coffee. As far as she was concerned, the conversation was over.
Hermes collected his food and made his way to her table.
He could have sat with Sunny, but Sunny was sitting with Cassie. Cassie gave him the creeps. Not because he disliked her. In fact, she was his favourite character in the novel, more than Sunny even. He had always been fascinated by seer characters ever since reading about Klein Moretti and the path of The Fool.
But that was exactly the problem.
Seers sounded fascinating right up until one was sitting across from you and reading your personal diary aloud to the room.
He decided to keep a comfortable distance until further notice.
Nephis noticed him approaching.
"Hello there," he said.
"Hello," she replied in a tone that was polite and not particularly warm.
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
"I don't mind." She paused. "Why not sit with your friend?"
"Are we not friends?" Hermes asked as he sat down.
Nephis looked at him.
"Are we?" she asked with the genuine curiosity of someone who had not yet decided.
"I thought we were," Hermes said, unfolding his utensils. "Unless you do not want to be."
She stared at him for a moment longer. Then she looked back at her coffee.
He took that as a neutral outcome and began eating.
"Are you only having coffee for breakfast?"
"Coffee gives you energy and sharpens your mind," Nephis said, with the serene confidence of a Facebook mum who had found a fact and intended to keep it.
"Fair enough. What course did you choose?"
"Combat."
Silence.
"You know," Hermes said, "you are supposed to ask me the same question. But since you didn't, I chose Sorcery."
"Sorcery?" She looked at him with mild confusion. "I thought you said your Aspect Ability was utility based."
"It is," Hermes said. "The Ability itself is utility. What it produces can be used in combat depending on the situation. My attributes let me perform sorcery on top of that, so I chose Sorcery for my course."
"I see." She considered it briefly. "That's reasonable."
Hermes checked his communicator.
Time for class.
"Right. I'm off." He stood and gathered his tray. "Good seeing you. I'll see you around?"
Nephis looked up.
"Hmm," she said. "See you around.
Hermes left without ceremony.