The registrar sits hunched behind a massive teak desk, absorbed in a book and ignoring the world around him. His fingers curl around the leather-bound spine. His eyes flick from line to line, lips moving in a whisper too faint to be heard.

We shuffle in place. Enea casts me a questioning look. I shrug and clear my throat, demanding his attention, but he doesn't even glance in our direction. Time seems suspended, like the dust dancing in the shafts of the afternoon light.

"Excuse us," says Enea in a low cheepy voice. "We are..."

The registrar raises his hand without looking at us, as if telling us to wait. Then he turns the page and continues reading.

We look at each other again. What is the registrar even reading? I tilt my head to try to make out the title. The book seems familiar for some reason. Then, when he turns another page, I see it: Bitten by the Dark Knight.

What the heck? He has the gall to make us wait because of some trashy fantasy romance?

Three pages later, I lose my patience.

"Excuse us." He holds his hand up again, but I ignore him. "We are waiting to be attended."

He grunts and looks up over the corner of the book. Then he puts a marker in it and claps it shut.

"What do you want?"

"We passed the entrance exam and are waiting to be assigned our rooms," explains Enea, after looking at me with worry written on her face.

"More students," he sighs. He opens a thick leather-bound old ledger with a cracked spine and puts a jade tablet on the desk beside it. "Show me your tokens."

He checks Enea's token against some information on the jade tablet first, and hands it back, writing down something in the ledger with a goose feather quill. Then he dries the point of the quill on a small pad and leaves it on the desk again before reaching below it and handing Enea a bundle of clothes.

"These are your robe and towels in the school's colors. Take this key. Your room is number eleven inside the lakeside wing."

Enea takes the bundle and the key and steps to the side, waiting for me.

The man checks my token, then tosses it back with a sneer.

"You can collect whatever belongings you may have at the exit," he says before taking up his book again.

I look at him, stunned. Enea looks stunned, too.

I clear my throat again. "Excuse me?"

The man looks up at me, an irritated scowl on his face. "What do you want? I told you that you could go."

"Emm? The key to my room, I passed the exam too."

"We did it together," interjects Enea, nodding.

The man claps his book closed. "I'm doing you a favor. You wouldn't last long." He shushes me with his hand. Then, opens his book again.

What is this nonsense? Some petty revenge for interrupting his reading time? I can't believe that I'm already having trouble just getting into this place. I haven't even had a chance to get close to the young Han mistress yet.

"Excuse me, but you can't do this. I passed the exam the same way as the others who completed it. I demand to speak to a supervisor," I declare with a harrumph. Scrunching my nose and channeling my inner noble lady.

The registrar only sneers at me. "Girl, you should listen to your betters. You lack the talent to survive inside there. You are already seventeen but have only managed to open one solitary meridian so far. Most people your age have been here for two to three years and have at least five meridians," he explains, in a patronizing tone as if I were a little kid. "I have no idea how you got lucky enough to pass the entrance test, but you would be competing in the seventeen-year-old ranking if you enroll. Do you think you could win a challenge against your betters? No? After your first challenge for rank, you would get thrown out anyway."

"But… The men at admission told me that I passed the minimum standards."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure, you did, but those who barely pass it, like you, never last long, if they manage to pass the dungeon test at all. So why should I register you and let you enter, hmm? The school wouldn't lose much."

Something is wrong here, but I don't know what.

"What do you want?" I look at him with suspicion. Does he want a bribe?

"What do I want? For you to leave and let me continue working already," he sneers at me.

Yeah, working, he calls it. I contain the urge to roll my eyes and take a deep breath. The last thing I need is for this situation to escalate. But I can't be too mellow, I need to stand my ground.

"I'm not leaving without my room key. I passed the exam!"

The man sneers at me, a dark grin crossing his face. "She is not leaving, she says. Tell you what, if you are so eager to stay, I'll do you a favor. I'll let you fight Bin Po for his place in the ranking. He is a second year with only three open meridians, currently the lowest ranked student in your age group."

"Okay!" I accept before he can change his mind. Was I too hasty? Anyhow, I feel relieved if that is what it takes.

He blinks, then stares at me, mouth half-open. "You want to fight someone with two more meridians than you? Do you even have a technique?"

"No? Do I need one?"

A malicious grin crosses his face for a second, then disappears as if hidden behind a mask. He scoffs and shakes his head, but for some reason, now his expression seems fake, like an actor or a conman. But I don't know what the con is supposed to be.

"Well, if you are so eager to get hurt." He does something with the tablet and writes something down in his ledger after that. "Here, your robe and room key, for the good it will do you. I've registered your challenge against Bin Po for later this afternoon. I'll let him know about it. Tell your token that you accept and make your way to the arena in three bells."

We leave the annoying registrar behind and enter a wide corridor decorated by sculpted statues of some warriors in mid-fight.

Something is missing. I forgot something. There is a hollow tug behind my ribs, a quiet unease, like a name on the tip of my tongue. Something is trying to slip through the cracks in my mind. I scan the room, the statues, the written poems on the wall as though the forgotten thing might be hiding, might have a body, might be sitting in plain sight, watching us with smug superiority.

"Shit! Kylo," I mutter. "Sorry, Enea, I have to pick up my cat at the entrance."

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"Oh, right." She stops and peeks at me over the bundle of clothes in her arms. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"Don't worry, I'll be back really quickly," I say. "Storing my school-provided supplies inside my ring."

"Okay!"

I retrace my steps, racing past the statues, past the registrar.

"Already giving up?" sneers the registrar, looking up from his book. "You can't back out now. I have already signed you up for the challenge."

"What? No. I only need to pick up something at the entrance."

Why does he even care? Didn't he want me out of school anyway?

Whatever.

Halfway to the entrance, I see a white blur darting through a courtyard. A huffing and puffing boy following in its footsteps, robes disheveled, hair tousled, and beads of sweat running down his cheeks.

Kylo sees me, and his eyes light up.

"SISTER!"

He does a sharp turn, leaving the boy following him in the dust, and jumps over the low wall into the corridor. Then he races toward me, climbs my robes, clinging to the fabric with his sharp claws, and stops on my shoulder, before looking back at the just-arriving boy sticking out his chest and raising his head in smug superiority.

"Oh! There you are, good, good," mutters the boy. "Please take back your cat."

"Sure," I say. Turning my head to the dust-covered Kylo in suspicion. He is licking his paws without a care for anybody else. When I look back at the corridor, the boy has already made a silent retreat. "What did you do to him?"

Kylo tilts his head.

"Boy? Kylo plays. Kylo runs, boy catch, no catch, no catch, no catch, no catch, boy bad hunter. Kylo better," he explains, making it sound like an overexcited kid speaking too fast in his eagerness to relate something that happened to him.

I smile in amusement. Somehow, I get the impression that the boy didn't know it was a game.

"Come, let's find out if our new room is nice," I say. Kylo has already crawled into his resting place inside my hood and doesn't answer.

"Minae!" Someone calls me the moment I am about to put the key in the door's lock.

I look over my shoulder. "Oh, hi Kenae! I see you got in, too."

"Yes!" she squeals at me, bouncing in place, giddy with excitement. "You are in room eleven? How did you finish the exam before me?"

"Err."

"Never mind!" she interrupts any answer I might have given. "I hope they will let us change later and we can be roommates." She grabs one of my arms. "Let's go celebrate in the mess hall!"

"Err. I can't," I manage to say before Kenae can drag me down the corridor.

She stops, still holding my extended arm, then turns around slowly. "You can't? Why?"

"I have a ranking challenge later, and I need to prepare and find out where the arena is," I explain.

Her mouth falls wide open, and she lets my hand go.

"A ranking challenge? Why would you do that so soon? Are you an idiot?"

"What? No. The registrar told me that I needed to do it, or he wouldn't let me in."

"He did what?" She starts pacing around, muttering to herself. "This is outrageous, he can't do that." She stops and looks up at me. "You did pass the exam, right?"

"Obviously!"

"Good! He can't do that. There must be someone we can talk to who can annul the match. I read the academy's rules and guidelines. New students are exempt from having to challenge for a rank until they have been here a full year."

"Strange!" I mutter, feeling a bit bewildered. "So why did he want to make me fight then?"

"Is it someone specific he wanted you to fight?"

"Yeah, some guy called Bin Po, a second year, lowest ranked among the seventeen-year-olds."

Kenae snaps her fingers. "That's it!"

"What?"

"He must be a friend or a member of his family. The registrar probably wanted to give him an easy fight before the school year begins. After each fight, you get one month where nobody else can challenge your rank," she explains. I feel relieved. So, that is the con. "If that boy is the lowest-ranked second year here, that means that he probably just fought once and fears that the one he got his rank from might challenge him to get it back. Maybe he was lucky to win at all and fears he won't be able to repeat it."

"And they chose me as an easy target?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

I feel a tremble in my chest, a tiny quake beneath my ribs, a flutter that wants to escape confinement. I glance at Kenae's utterly serious face and burst into laughter.

"Why, are you laughing?" she asks, confusion written on her face. I feel Kylo peek over my shoulder, curiosity awoken by the noise. "He is still a second-year. His cultivation might be higher than yours."

"Yeah, it is," I acknowledge, shoulders still shaking. The rolling laughter seems to wash away the rest of my worries. "Two small stages."

Kenae winces. "That will be hard at your level."

I almost burst into laughter again. There is no way some random boy, too afraid to be challenged by anybody, can beat Bae's training. It seems that people are too fixated on cultivation rank. I wonder if the registrar would have picked me out as a target if he knew my attributes. Probably not.

"Don't worry, I have fought higher-ranked opponents before," I say.

The question is how much I should show. It's too late to keep a low profile now, but should I go all in? Maybe I'm overconfident and should be a bit worried. I'm not going to show my runes. Can I win just with speed and swordplay? Well, I suppose we will find out.

"I still think you should try to get the challenge annulled," says Kenae. "It's bad for you, even if you win. Once you get a rank, you don't get a yearlong exemption anymore, and others can challenge you. Other students might see you as an easy target since you are new and pick fights with you. If you lose your rank, you get kicked out."

"Immediately?" That is slightly worrying indeed.

"What? No, no. Once you lose it, you get a grace period of two months to try to get a rank back. It's when you don't manage to do so that they kick you out."

"Oh, okay." That sounds better. If I can't find anyone to beat my age in that time, I should give up as a mage.

"Not okay," mutters Kenae, shaking her head and looking at me as if there was something wrong inside my head. "The lower positions in the ranking are always fiercely disputed. You would be fighting all the time, always be at risk of a slip-up."

Well, yeah. But not if I give my opponents a thorough enough trashing to make others hesitate. One year can pass quickly. I would be fighting soon anyway. The notoriety could be what I need to get noticed by that Han girl, too. Trying to stay in the shadows is the wrong mindset for this job. I need to play the slightly talented, possible future asset. Without overdoing it either, that would make me look like a threat.

And somehow, I want to teach that annoying registrar a lesson. You have picked the wrong target, buddy.

"Maybe if we ask the counselor for help," mutters Kenae, pacing around again.

"What? No, no. Don't worry. I want to fight."

Kenae opens her mouth, then closes it again and shrugs. "Well, I hope you know what you are doing."

"Yeah, don't worry. Do you know the way to the arena?"

"Sure, I'll show you," she answers after hesitating for a bit. But let's grab something to eat first, I'm starving."

I follow her back down the corridor again, still not having seen my room.

"For what it's worth, I'll be rooting for you," she tells me.

"What root?" asks Kylo, not pretending to slumber anymore.

"It's when you support someone and want them to win a fight," I explain.

"Kylo root, sister! Sister, kill rude boy!"

"What? No! I'm not going to kill anyone, Kylo, just give them a beating!"

"Bummer," he snorts, crawling back into the hood.

Kenae looks at us with wide eyes. I can feel the heat coloring my cheeks. Did he shout that into both our minds?

"Did I tell you that your cat is scary?" she asks.

I snicker in amusement, understatement of the year. Kenae hasn't even seen his true form.

"Kylo scary! Kylo thanks the nice sister friend," he says, sounding smug.

I laugh, it seems he doesn't understand that it wasn't a compliment.

Kenae shakes her head. "Too smart," she mutters.

The sand crunches under my boots as I walk into the arena, light and pale as bone dust. Each step kicks up low clouds that cling to my ankles like ghosts. It's quiet in a way that makes my nervousness return. I slap my cheeks. You got this!

Scattered clusters of spectators sit around the stands. There are so few that the emptiness feels almost as overwhelming as a loud crowd.

I bite my lower lip in frustration. This fight won't work to get a reputation. I sigh and walk closer to the center, where a referee stands still like a statue. The echoes of my steps rebound in the silence. I can see Kenae and Enea waving at me from the stands, Kylo sitting between them. I smile at them and continue.

When I arrive at the referee's side, I realize how tall the man is. I barely reach his shoulders. Thick, corded muscles peek out under the seams and folds of his robes. He is looking at the other side of the arena, where the registrar is speaking to a short, slightly overweight boy with chubby cheeks, armed with a spear, the same as I am.

I hear the referee snort at my side. His face settles into a sharp, unyielding expression, no trace of softness or indulgence. His eyes seem to transmit a sense of superiority, as if he had already judged the rest of us and found us lacking.

"Well? Bin Lao?" he exclaims in a thundering voice that fills the arena and makes me flinch from the volume. It wasn't even a yell! Only a low-pitched rumble. "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you finally going to send your cousin forward?"

I almost snort, too. Cousins, huh? Who would have thought?

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving!" yells the registrar. He glances at me briefly, then darts toward the exit, lifting the hems of his too-long robe so as not to stumble.

"A girl?" I hear the chubby boy say when he finally walks over to us. "You should surrender as soon as the fight starts. Don't worry. You'll be safe. I don't like to take it out on weaklings."

I snort. Yeah, keep dreaming! The referee steps back without a word, raising a ceremonial baton to indicate that we prepare ourselves.

I glance up at the stands and grin. It's time to teach that registrar a lesson.

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