50. A Little Academy Tour
"Didn't I say I wanted to see the stargazing gear?" Lilith protested, voice a tinkling bell in a long hall, as Elsa towed her through the Astrology Academy. The Little White Dragon’s small hand was captured in the elf’s warm grip, her reluctant steps pattering down the corridor like rain skimming eaves.
"Because it’s the place you want most, we have to save it for last," Elsa said, grave as a stone stele in morning mist. "Otherwise you’ll spot the Star Canvas, take root like a tree, and never move."
"That actually makes sense." Relief bloomed first, then a small nod, like a leaf nodding to wind.
"Wait—it's broad daylight," Lilith frowned, doubt rising like a cloud bank. "Even if I go, I can’t see the Star Canvas. So what’s wrong with letting me check the instruments now?"
"Well... anyway, just don’t go." Elsa’s words blurred, like ripples hiding the bottom of a pond.
Suspicion pricked like starlight. Lilith widened her eyes and stared at her. "Don’t tell me you’ve figured out a way to observe the Star Canvas even at noon?"
"Ah-haha..." The elf scratched her head and averted her gaze, as if sun glare stung her eyes.
"Let me see, now!" Urgency surged in Lilith like a tide racing the shore. She wanted the Academy’s most advanced toys this instant. Please—this kind of high-tech kit was irresistible to an apprentice Astrologer; back in the Dragon Territory, Teacher Asterios only let her use his handmade telescope, all brass and patience.
"Don’t rush, don’t rush." Elsa caught the Little White Dragon right before she bolted like a startled deer. The elf steered her into a room packed with parchment rolls that rose like pale reeds. Elsa blocked the way out with a light step and said, "Since we’re here, let’s first check the place where we store our star maps."
They entered a chamber tucked within the Astrology Altar. Most of the altar lay open to wind and sky, but this pocket was sealed like a shell. Alternating slabs of white and black marble pieced together a small room. The White Dragon pushed the door, and she and the elf stepped into a world of parchment and dust motes drifting like snow.
"This is the outer ring of our star-map archive," Elsa said, leading Lilith past shelves that whispered like trees. "Most of what’s here are rough sketches of constellations. Even non-students can browse freely. Beyond this point, deeper in, you’ll need a professor’s approval."
She drew out a well-preserved chart and placed it in Lilith’s hands.
Lilith loosened the silk tie; the scroll unfurled like a pale river. Her heart gave a quick flutter—this was a chart of the Void Command Seat, the very constellation etched on her own belly. Yet the lines were so crude. Forget the maps Lilith had drawn herself; even the faint, ghost-blue tracery that lit her lower abdomen when her constellation entered resonance was clearer than this.
"Was this one... drawn by a beginner?" Lilith tested her words like stepping stones, careful not to splash.
"Yes. This room holds samples from novice apprentices and freshly certified Astrologers who’ve only worn their title a few days," Elsa said, tone light as a leaf. "They’re rough, so it’s fine to keep them open to outsiders. Past here, though, you’ll need a teacher’s note."
Elsa went to a wall and knocked, a tap like a pebble on ice. Azure lines rose from the stone in a slow glow, like frost waking at dawn. The script carved there was blurred; Lilith squinted until her eyes stung and made out that it was Elvish, but the meaning ran away like minnows.
"Okay." Acceptance first, then a small sigh. Lilith stopped where she stood. Elsa’s tone meant no going deeper. And honestly, maps weren’t what tugged at her now. She tugged at Elsa’s sleeve, eyes bright as stars. "Can we go see the stargazing gear now?"
"Don’t rush, don’t rush. I’ll take you to our classrooms first," Elsa said, waving away the plea like smoke. "It’s also where the academy types lock themselves in to do research—labs, basically. You’ll love it."
She seized Lilith’s hand again and ran, a stream finding its channel.
"Wait! Just let me look at the stars!" Lilith wailed, her voice a kite straining its string.
The elf let the plea drift behind them like fallen leaves and led her to the Academy’s teaching building. It was two stories tall, a wooden house set on a stone base, perched north of the marble altar. A narrow passage stitched the two together like a ribbon. Beds of strange plants crowded the path, turning this mountaintop into the deep hush of a forest.
"Elves can’t live well away from forests, so we planted a lot in the academy," Elsa explained as they passed, her words a soft breeze through green. "But everyone’s busy lately, no time to tend them, so these little ones all look kind of droopy."
"I think they look pretty healthy," Lilith said, puzzled, eyes catching on a roadside plant taller than she was, brimming with sap and vigor like spring.
"Do they? Maybe elves just like places with even more life packed in," Elsa said with a shrug, light as a falling petal. "Let’s get to the classrooms. The professor should be in one of them, sorting data with students. We can say hi, then I’ll show you the dorms and the cafeteria. You’ll be living at the Academy for a while; you should learn the basics."
She tapped her lips with a finger, thinking, then smiled. "He’s probably wrapping up now. If we mention it today, maybe you can have dinner with him tomorrow. Or lunch? Definitely not breakfast—no way he gets up that early."
"Uuuh... the stargazing gear... I want the stargazing gear," Lilith muttered, her small wish fluttering like a moth. No one answered; who would fuss over an ordinary Little White Dragon?
Who knows—either way, Elsa pretended not to hear.
