Just a Bystander

A Thief of Memory

The dormitories were clean, spacious, and well-furnished. I was rather relieved to find that the "ancient building" aesthetic only applied to the exterior - the inside was filled with modern furnishings and amenities. I would be sharing a room with one other person, and three rooms would share a set of common areas for dining, studying, and just hanging out. My roommate hadn't arrived yet, so I spent the entire day walking around the Academy grounds to familiarise myself with the place and just marvel at the wonder of actually being in the Academy.

The orientation briefing was in the evening, so I returned to the dorm to freshen up and bring my notebook and a pen. It seemed that my roommate had already moved in but wasn't around. Whoever it was seemed to have packed light - I only spotted a rucksack on the bed.

I made my way to the lecture hall and found that it was already packed with people by the time I came through the double-doors at the rear. I assumed that coming just ten minutes earlier would give me the opportunity to pick a good seat, but obviously, I was mistaken. I wasn't sure if the people here were just really eager to learn, or if this was another side-effect of having the Chosen One in the Academy.

Curiously, there was actually still room right at the front, so I made my way there. As I passed the rows of new arcanists, I caught bits of excited chatter.

'- yeah, I actually saw the Chosen One at registration, and -'

'- think we'll be in the same dorm -'

'- maybe he... she? Has bodyguards, but that -'

I took the first seat that was available at the front and sat down just as the door near the podium opened. A severe-looking man dressed in full arcanist regalia - fine black robes with silver glyphs along every hem, and the Academy's glyph emblazoned on the back - swept into the hall. His salt-and-pepper hair was kept short and tidy, and his grey eyes scanned us as he went to stand behind the podium. All the babble petered out. His entrance hadn't been loud, but the atmosphere in the hall seemed to become more charged just by his very presence.

'Thank you for being early. We can begin now that everyone is here.' His voice was surprisingly gentle, given his appearance.

There was a little shuffling as some of the new arcanists hastily made their way to a seat. The man waited until everyone was settled, regarding everyone impassively, his face almost mask-like in its lack of warmth. A heavy silence hung in the air. I found it fascinating how he wielded such easy power over the assembled crowd.

'I am Marius Reeves, Prime Sage of the Academy. Traditionally, the Demiurge of the Academy will address new arcanists, but he is currently... not well. You will meet him eventually. In the meantime, it falls to me to welcome you all this evening.'

As he spoke, his eyes continued to sweep across all those assembled. I could tell that people were dying to look around too, because he had said that everyone was here, but somehow nobody had noticed the Chosen One enter the hall. Unless Reeves was mistaken? Still, nobody moved - Reeves somehow commanded our absolute attention and focus.

'This year, we have a rather unique situation on our hands. Most of you have doubtless already heard the rumours about the Chosen One being in this cohort, and some of you have managed to get a good look. But now I must lay down some rules and explain the situation, and all of you must listen very carefully because the Chosen One's presence in our midst presents an issue of national security.'

The hall somehow managed to get even quieter. I could almost hear the breathing of the people next to me.

'If you had the stunning fortune to bump into the Chosen One earlier today, you might have realised that you no longer recognise their face. In fact, you no longer recall even the most basic things, like whether the Chosen One is male or female.'