Page 36 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

“Okay wait a minute,” I managed to say, leaning against the railing to catch my breath.

“Just to make sure I’ve got it straight.

Levels one and two are kitchens for personal use, levels three and four we missed, five to ten are dorms and bathrooms, eleven and twelve training rooms for recreational use, thirteen and fourteen restaurants and fifteen an indoor swimming pool. So where are we now?” I huffed.

“We’re on three,” Enya replied dryly opening a door, revealing a long corridor.

"Levels three and four are the exciting connection levels," Enya droned on.

"These two floors are a constant in every Palace, serving as the links between the four of them.

You mosey on through these levels to travel from one Palace to another.

Of course, you can always choose the high-tech route and portal your way out through the red standing portals, but remember, you can only return via your personal portal. "

I felt a tinge of self-doubt creeping in, as I realized I probably should have studied up on the details of portal usage.

Yet, Enya's less-than-welcoming demeanor didn't exactly encourage me to seek her guidance.

I silently vowed to find a more approachable mentor in the future to ask about portals. Not James.

Enya's brisk pace led us through the remainder of Winter Palace, which was starting to feel like the oddest luxury hotel I'd ever stayed at. It was becoming increasingly evident Enya was eager to bid me adieu.

"And that's pretty much the living area," she concluded, cutting our tour short with a sense of urgency. "There's a lot more to discover, but..." she glanced quickly over me and raised a brow, "you look like you're quite the resourceful one. I’m sure you'll figure it out as you go along."

Sure .

"I'll leave you to your own devices for the day. Tomorrow, we'll embark on another thrilling journey to explore the Spring Palace. Should you require any assistance, don't hesitate to reach out."

And, just as swiftly as she appeared in my life, she vanished through a portal, leaving me standing alone in the corridor on the third level. Our entire interaction had barely spanned twenty minutes.

With exhaustion weighing me down and an indifference toward my surroundings which was rapidly growing, I retraced my steps, located the stairwell, and ascended to level seven.

Finally back in the familiarity of my dorm room, I nearly collapsed from sheer fatigue.

Without even bothering to change my clothes, I surrendered to the inviting embrace of the bed.

Within moments, I was lost in a deep and dreamless slumber, the whirlwind events of the day fading into the oblivion of rest.

Day two: The Spring Palace

I woke up the next day with an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

Trying out one of the restaurants on the fourteenth floor of the Winter Palace, I found myself pretty much alone.

I ordered some scrambled eggs, and to my surprise, they tasted exactly like regular eggs.

Had I expected these eggs on some level to levitate and fly directly into my mouth?

Maybe. But any disappointment quickly vanished as I enjoyed the gorgeous view overlooking the rest of the Universitas.

Enya met up with me around eleven in the morning on the fourth floor between the Winter and Spring Palace, her grumpy demeanor intact.

“You see this green corridor, connecting this side of the building to the other?” She pointed.

I nodded. "Yeah, going through here takes us to the Spring Palace, right?"

"That’s right," she said, her tone a tad more patient than the day before.

"It houses the Scola, the educational section for children under sixteen.

At first, it might be easier for you to go through the Grand Hall, back in the Fall Palace where we met yesterday morning, so you can use the Touchstone to figure out where you need to go. "

I must have appeared puzzled. "Touchstone?"

"Yeah, the giant clock-like monument you saw in the center," she explained.

"Ah, the 'find your way' clock thing," I replied, finally grasping it. She gave me a short nod.

"Speaking of clocks," she remarked, leading the way through the brightly greenish corridor to the other side, "you'll notice how they are quite a popular theme for our in-house architects."

We reached the Scola and came to a stop in a vast circular space, encircled by twelve lengthy hallways, each emanating its own unique vibe.

"Right now, we're standing in the Epicenter.

Each level of the Spring Palace is divided into twelve hallways, all converging to this point.

Each hallway corresponds to an hour in a day, representing where the students reside.

For instance, this is the Hallway of the Fourth Hour," she explained as we strolled through it, "where the kids delve into the history of our culture.

Each level symbolizes a stage of personal growth.

As you advance in your learning and skills, you ascend through the levels. "

As Enya and I stepped into the Hallway of the Fourth Hour, the atmosphere shifted subtly, hinting at the essence of history woven into its very fabric.

The walls bore witness to the passage of time, decorated with intricate murals depicting both familiar human moments and mystical scenes that sparked my imagination.

Rich hues of sepia and gold enveloped the corridor, evoking the antiquity of scrolls and aged manuscripts, while a faint scent of ancient parchment mingled with the air.

Not unlike any other university or library I'd ever visited.

"This is the first level of the Scola, so these kids are very young," Enya explained.

As we strolled towards the next hallway, I could hear the distant sounds of classrooms alive with typical children-like energy.

Enya's voice broke through the background noise, pointing out the Hallway of the Fifth Hour. "Let's see if there are some practical classes going on," she suggested.

"Ah," she halted, "here are some children projecting; this might be interesting for you to see."

We walked silently into a classroom, keeping our backs against the wall. Children around the age of four were sitting in a group, their eyes closed. I observed a girl projecting a green, cloud-like "substance," akin to the haze I had seen Stephen project, but in a different color.

"Translation," I mumbled under my breath, earning myself an approving nod from Enya. It felt as if the Queen of England herself had decided to knight me for exceptional performance.

"Normally, we can't see the haze inside a Collective, like Cyclos. We can never see it inside any Metasphere; we can only see it in the Human World. But for educational purposes, the Heads allow visible magic in the Universitas. But only here," she emphasized.

As we climbed the swirling staircase, Enya pointed out a small group of people. "Over there, you'll notice a group of teenagers training their translation. Though with those hormones, they’re more likely to conjure up awkward moments than actual magic."

I chuckled at her deadpan delivery.

"Now, let's move on. I'll show you where the male Offensives keep their enchanted rubbers that transform smaller objects into bigger ones."

I laughed out loud this time; this tour was turning out to be a lot more fun than I had expected.

"Do you know what interface is?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject, and I shook my head.

"Whenever you feel your emotion or summon it, the clock starts running. As soon as you've converted the emotion into something tangible, the clock stops. The time it took you to get from the emotion to the result of your translation, that’s the interface. For example, you’re cold.

You want a jacket. The time between feeling cold and holding your jacket is the interface. "

"Okay…" I frowned.

"Now, the shorter the timeframe, the more powerful you are. You should know this because everyone here keeps score. So should you."

"Everyone keeps score on how fast they translate?"

Enya nodded. "Normally, it shouldn’t matter in Scola how fast you project; it only starts to count when you’re sixteen. But everyone remembers the children who had the shortest timeframes from the start. "

I snorted. "So, magi or human, egos, self-doubt, and competition are pretty much universal."

That comment earned me a smirk. “Exactly."

We smiled at each other, as if we understood each other for the first time. Maybe she was a kindred spirit after all.

"Tomorrow, I'll give you a tour of the Academy. I've managed to secure access to the Offensives' wing, which is rarely open to outsiders," she said, her tone indicating I should be grateful.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly are Offensives?" I asked bluntly.

Enya blinked. "They're our protectors. Or that's what they like to call themselves. I prefer to think of them as insane assassins, terrifying enough to deter anyone with ill intentions toward the Collective."

"But..." I began, only for her to cut me off.

"Emma, I don't have time to explain all the basics to you right now. Just come along on the tour tomorrow, and I'll show you," she said, turning on her heels and leaving me standing there, bewildered and brimming with questions.

Day three: The Summer Palace

The next day, Enya seemed genuinely excited to show me around. While I initially hoped it meant she had finally warmed up to me, it became clear rather quickly that her enthusiasm was mainly directed at watching Academy classes.

"You're in for a treat now." She almost hopped the whole way to the Summer Palace. It was a very strange experience to see Enya "hop." She wasn't a very "hoppy" person.

"I got us into one of the Offensive classes. We're almost never allowed to see them train unless we train with them, which no one in their right mind would do."

“Why not?” I asked, watching my feet so I wouldn’t trip over them–again.

“Because one in their right mind is not suicidal.”