The group quickly left the dining room behind them. They stepped past the lounge, where the temporal mage still read his book, and no doubt, still continued to speed up time.
How much did it take from him to encompass the whole academy? Was there another one somewhere also keeping up a time bubble? Maybe multiple others?
What was it like? Did he slowly drain away his years? Was he dying of boredom? How much power did it take to cover the whole area in a time bubble expediting everything by roughly a third?
Barakat waved to the mage as they passed. The mage did not look up from his book. Was he going to sit there until he died? Did he need to use a washroom?
The group entered the large, green foyer, the sad illusion of an outdoor garden. They headed straight down the incline from the middle tunnel, sticking to the path between all the benches. They turned left and walked, eventually into the left tunnel. The tunnel was, like the others, large enough for a covered wagon to comfortably rumble through. Llumifruits lined the walls, up by the ceiling.
Like a pattern, and almost definitely deliberately, the tunnel opened up into another foyer-like space. Smaller than the one before, cozier.
It, too, branched off thrice.
“All these foyers branching off three times,” Zahira noticed. “It's more than a coincidence.”
“I’m glad you noticed!” Barakat beamed.
Oh no. Here we go again.
Actually, Barakat wasn't that bad.
“This whole place was a Diuskellan monastery. Guess what number Diuskel is!”
“Which number?” Zahira asked flatly.
“Three! Heliux is one—for light. Then, two is for twilight. Finally, Diuskel is third, for darkness! The groups of three represent the monks’ faith for Diuskel!”
Why did Barakat want to teach this? Why was he passionate about this? Why did he want to spill it all out to the students? Did he not have anyone else to talk about it to? Maybe he could, like, publish an essay about it.
Wait. He couldn't, because then people would know it was here.
Then, people would come here, and realize there's this weird academy thing going on in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Who knows who would show up and why? Who knows what would happen to the academy. Better keep it a secret, just to be safe.
Why did they need the academy to be as private as it was? What exactly did Nur and Baramat have to hide?
Well, besides a sanctuary to seventy orphaned children learning about a scary and dark fourth type of magic.
Yeah, okay, Sanya could see how that might be concerning.
Ismael cleared his throat. “But Barakat, there's four.”
Barakat stopped in his tracks, whirling around to face Ismael. “There’s . . . What?”
“There's four tunnels, not three.” Ismael pointed to the three new tunnels, then to the one they had come from “One. Two. Three. Four.”
Like a pane of glass, Barakat’s expression shattered.
Mai erupted into a fit of laughter. Her bubbling joy filled up the foyer. It must have been contagious too, Zahira put a hand up to her mouth . . . Or maybe it was less in laughter and more in scandal.
Sanya never wanted to experience a time where she could no longer hear Mai's laughter.
I mean, uh, what?
Sanya shook the thought away. Meanwhile, Barakat regained his composure.
“The . . . The fourth—is separated from the others. See how the tunnels to the flanks are closer to the one across from us than the one we came from? That . . . The fourth represents . . . The um . . . The connection of the three. On top of that, you have three true choices, or paths. The, um, the one you come from doesn't count,” Barakat ranted, trying to save himself.
Ismael glared at Barakat. “Admit it. You don't know. I deconstructed your theory.”
“N—no. This is it, I'm certain.”
Barakat stood there for a long moment. Sanya and the other four waited in silence.
“Anyway! Girls on the left. Boys in the middle. Secret third thing on the right!” Barakat continued. “Umm . . . Wish I had one or two other people here to make this quicker . . . Ismael, Sakhr, with me!”
Barakat went into the middle tunnel. Ismael and Sakhr rushed forward to catch up after a few seconds of collecting thoughts.
Well, at least that meant Sanya wasn't going into the boys’ dorms. She let a small helping of relief trickle into her body at that.
The boys’ tunnel sloped downward. Llumifruits glowed along the walls, though dimly. There wasn't anything to say about the tunnel. Sanya certainly didn't want to go down there for a look.
The girls’ tunnel sloped upward. It made Sanya wonder how deep from the surface they all were, and where the closest bits to the surface were.
And also—just a thought—was there only one entrance and exit? Wasn't that kind-of . . . dangerous? What if that entrance no longer became usable? What if it was blocked off or sealed shut or watched by some powerful malevolent individual? Would they all be trapped here like a tomb?
Another thought—what was the secret third thing? Was that a joke? Were Baramat and Nur accommodating to individuals beyond a binary identity? Would Sanya be labeled as that secret third thing? Were there others like her? How close to her would they be?
Sanya was . . . hopeful.
Sanya had entered the streets because . . . because . . .
She did not want to deal with this right now.
However, other kids had ended up on the streets, in similar situations to her. Other freaks, other weirdos. The ones the old people and the ignorant people didn't understand. There was a high chance some of them ended up here, due to the higher percentage of the homeless population they took up. Although, most of the students had come from orphanages, and they often discriminated against Sanya’s kin.
Barakat came back, without Ismael and Sakhr in tow. Barakat, once again, the statue. He tapped his foot against the cavern floor. Then stroked his chin.
“Sanya,” he finally said. That was it.
“Yyyyes?” Sanya replied, a whisper.
“Um. I don't know if I should let you into the girls’ dorm. I don't want you getting any weird ideas—and perhaps to protect you from the . . . less tolerant ones.”
Weird . . . ideas? Oh. Oh. That was Barakat’s concern? As for the other reason, Sanya assumed it was an excuse.
“I can't get anyone pregnant,” Sanya blurted. She hadn't whispered that time. Oops. Oh no . . . She wanted to claw out her own throat and jump into a pit of sand and suffocate—
Barakat blinked at her.
Mai glanced up. “You can't?” Did she sound . . . disappointed? “Are you speaking from personal experience?”
Oh, maybe that was why, maybe she didn't want Sanya to have done it before—wait, why would that matter? Sanya, get out of that thought, now!
“N-no!” Sanya cried out, blushing. “I haven't tried. I know I can't. It's just that, um . . .” Not whispering again! She looked around to find which wall was nearest, wanting to bang her head against it until she bled numb.
Anyway—she couldn't say it. She didn't want to. It was not happening—the um, the naughty thing nor her explaining why. She was not going to confess one of her darkest secrets with Barakat and Jahira there—and definitely not Mai.
If she told Mai, Sanya might want to find a way to stop breathing for, like, ever?
“M-maybe,” Barakat said carefully. “Maybe you'd like to join the dorm in the third hallway with two others?”
“Two others?” Sanya perked up slightly, but also weary. “What do you mean?”
“I know you're binary. But, there are two other gender non-conforming kids! Around your age! You can share a room with them—well, them and them! Ha . . . I apologize.”
Sanya was right! Barakat had set off a branch for non-binary individuals!
“Maybe I'd like to meet them and . . . make friends,” Sanya said. “But, may I get a room in the girls’ dorm? Because, I'm, well, a girl?”
Barakat sighed. Why would he sigh at that? Heliux, so much for being inclusive or open-minded.
Sanya crossed her arms and glared at him—wait, maybe that didn't help her case. She dropped the glare and frowned.
Barakat glanced between Mai and Sanya, then landed on Sanya. “Maybe, you should go to the third dorm . . . I . . .”
Mai rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. There's bound to be some other same-gender attraction going on here! You're not stopping or separating them if they get a little . . . Ya know.”
“W-wait!” Sanya exclaimed, flushed. Oh, what did she say now? That “it wasn't like that?” No, it was totally like that . . . We wouldn't do anything naughty . . . But could Sanya guarantee that? . . . Ugh, get out of there!
Mai studied her, eyebrow raised.
Sanya sighed, shoulders slumping. Sanya glanced repeatedly between Mai and Barakat.
“You sh—” Barakat said.
“Her choice! She chooses!” Mai practically yelled.
Barakat's expression looked torn between every possible emotion and muscle movement. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. Sanya already knew what she wanted. She had made her choice.
“Girls’ dorm,” Sanya decided, her tone leaving no room for negotiating.
Barakat nodded. “Okay, but I'm sep—”
“You're not separating us,” Sanya swallowed. “I bunk with Mai.”
Barakat closed his eyes and put a hand up against his forehead, expression creased and tense.
Mai grinned. Sanya's little hearth exploded with warmth she never wanted to fade.