The White Magic classroom was the most illuminated classroom, resting within the tallest point in the castle: the tower. All the walls and ceilings were bare windows and it was shaped like a massive dome. The desks were large and faced each other in a big circle, in the center of it were three low shelves that formed a triangle and on top of them was a gray cushion, like Professor Yūei's.
The woman who sat on the cushion watched the students enter her classroom. She might have once been beautiful, but her face was heavily scarred with one eye clouded over. Her cropped, short pink hair was the brightest thing in the whole room, and her outfit was strange.
At first glance Rose could see it was a black dress, but the front half of it was torn off from the waist below. There were odd gears that reminded Rose of the inside of a clock that hung around the dress like a belt. There was a—a bodice, and the long sleeves were in tatters at the end. She had striped dark-colored stockings, and a big top hat that had a ticking clock on top of it. There were odd gizmos and gears scattered across her outfit and the whole thing struck Rose as very… weird.
She hadn't seen any outrageous clothes since joining the Community, so she thought everyone dressed normal.
But maybe that's not the case? Rose wondered. She took a seat facing the woman and got out a thick sketchbook, after consulting her rubric that was what she needed.
A few more minutes went by as the rest of the students filed in, and then the woman gave a short nod. "Welcome to White Magic. White is the subject of permanence. Essentially, it's infusing your magic into physical objects and giving those objects special properties, White has also been called Enchantment because of this. It is necessary for numerous jobs in our Community. My goal this year is to get your dexterity up to snuff so you can properly draw out the seals, and for you all to memorize the singular seals—seals that work by themselves.
"The first hour will be practicing with a calligraphy brush, as I suspect many of you haven't seen one before, let alone used it. Seals are most frequently drawn with a brush, and that's what we'll mainly be focusing on in class. The rest of the class period will be discussing two to three seals, and maybe one rune."
What's the difference? Rose thought.
The woman raised her finger in the air. "I'm Professor Rina."
Ink jars and brushes flew out from under her shelves and an odd symbol scorched itself into the air above her, glowing a faint pink. The ink jars and brushes rested on each desk. "I will be putting a new seal, or rune, up here every half minute for the next hour. Your goal is to draw it as accurately and quickly as you can. Do not take up needless space. You only get one chance for each of them, and you will hand in your work at the end of the class. Your time for this seal starts now."
Rose quickly scrambled to grab her brush. It felt awkward in her hands, it was bigger than any pencil or paintbrush she had ever used. She uncapped the ink and jammed the brush inside, it came back out with blobs of black ink dripping off of it and splattering onto her sketchbook.
Rose flushed at how messy her paper had already gotten, but she quickly moved to copy the image. Rose had barely finished her badly misshapen symbol when the professor moved on to the next one.
Rose concentrated on trying to copy the weird-looking symbols to the best of her ability, but most of her works were blobs of black ink bleeding together. The next time she dipped her brush into the ink, she didn't pull out as much ink, but it was apparently still too much. On the third try she didn't pull out enough, and only on the fourth try did she finally manage to pull out enough ink to not automatically turn her symbols into misshapen bleeding blobs.
Rose still had naturally poor artistic skills—they were simply atrocious. By the end of the hour, Rose was feeling thoroughly defeated at her horrible work, and judging from the looks on some of her classmates, she wasn't the only one.
Professor Rina wiggled her pinky and all the parchments flew towards her and hovered above her in the air. The ink and brushes returned to their shelves and the professor then said, "I see a lot of you will be needing practice outside of the classroom. Don't skimp out, and if you need the supplies, come see me after class. Open up your textbook now, and we'll discuss the first seal: Light."
...🌹...
Rose entered the perfectly ordinary classroom with a little surprise. Unlike all the other teachers, this classroom was an average classroom one might find at a human school. There were individual desks lined up, encouraging posters plastered around the walls, and shelves of school supplies on each wall. In the front of the room was a giant blackboard, and in front of it on the right was a decent sized desk.
Behind the desk sat an impossibly skinny and weedy-looking man. Rose thought he must have been gravely ill from the dark bags under his eyes and the red tip of his nose. He was one strong wind away from toppling over entirely, Rose was sure.
Rose took a seat at the front of the room, Chester on her left, and Keinan sitting to her right before Mortem could. She heard an annoyed 'tt' from Mortem and couldn't resist sending him a smug look.
Mortem cocked his head and Rose felt a shock pierce through her right arm. She yelped and grabbed at her arm, while Mortem laughed and sat behind her.
"You're only going to upset her," Keinan warned Mortem lightly. "She'll do it right back when she learns how."
"You know what he's doing?" Rose asked, surprised. She turned around to Mortem with narrowed eyes. "You jerk! I knew you were doing it on purpose."
Mortem only shrugged. "Your reactions are endlessly amusing." Mortem addressed Keinan afterwards. "She wouldn't dare."
"Oh, I so would! I'm going to learn how to shock you just as bad," Rose promised. "Then we'll see how you like it."
Keinan nodded. "It's never good to antagonize a woman. Pa says they're crazy."
"Your father thinks everyone is crazy," Chester said with a roll of his eyes.
Keinan grinned. "They are."
Chester snorted before he turned towards Mortem. "So you're shocking her on purpose? That's not very polite."
"So I've heard."
"G-g-good morning class," the professor greeted with a wheeze, standing up from his desk. "I'm glad to see e-everyone is here. We have a l-lot to cover, so we'll g-get straight to it."
The professor pulled out a twig and waved it towards the blackboard. The words: 'The Dark War' emerged upon it in fancy letters. The professor turned towards the class.
"A-ah, right. I a-am Professor Laye, your Community Professor a-and liaison between the sc-school and the Community. Ple-please turn t-towards your first chapter in th-the textbooks."
Rose reached into her backpack and pulled out a thick, pale blue book with the words: 'The Start of Something Great: The Community'. She flipped open to the first chapter titled 'The Dark War' and awaited further instructions.
"W-we shall t-take turns r-reading this chapter. Miss D-Delilah, if you would."
A girl with pale pink skin, soft pink hair, and big blue eyes stood up from her desk. "O-oh! Yes, sir. The Dark War is the single worst war in all of our history, as it led to the genocide of humanity and the destruction of many home worlds."
Wait, what?
"Emara—our home realm—was comprised of many worlds clustered together. The largest of the worlds was Alvion, home of humanity. Humanity lived peacefully beside all of the magical kingdoms. At times they all worked together, and at other times, they were silent neighbors."
"G-good. Mister Chester?"
As Delilah sat down, Chester stood up. "Elder Fryst was unhappy with this state, though. The king of dragons rallied together his entire kingdom of powerful warriors and—and took over Emara. Elder Fryst enslaved humanity, brutally killing millions of them in his misguided conquest. The Neheburs had lived separately, and while they were friendly with one another, none of them were able to work together to stop Elder Fryst before the Dark War claimed Emara."
Rose's stomach was starting to clench. Even as she read the words—and she noticed that no one seemed surprised or bothered by what they were reading—she couldn't quite wrap her mind around it.
"N-nicely said. Miss Sally."
Chester's kingmate stood up from the back row, pushing back her straight hair. "It wasn't until the four other Elders banded together and united all kingdoms against Fryst and the dragons that the Dark War was able to end. The Elders banished the dragons to a far-off world, and tried to heal Emara. However, Emara was beyond saving, and the world died. The Elders, in their infinite wisdom, discovered a new world that already had humans on it: the Surface Realm."
"Y-yes, very good. Mister Keinan?"
Keinan stood up. "The Elders tied the realms together and formed the Community. The Elders created the Curtain to protect humanity from any wayward Neheburs and forbade any Nehebur to directly interact with them. Humanity was to live separate, and in peace from the Community. The Community created schools, towns, and other facilities to encourage us to always stay united."
"G-good. Th-that is the summary of wh-what we will be c-covering this year. H-history is i-important to learn s-so that way we never m-make the same mistakes. If you would p-please take out y-your notebooks, I w-will g-go over key terms."
Rose's hands moved stiffly as she did as instructed. Her mind, though, was still stuck on what she had learned.
It was no wonder everyone was so astonished to find out that she was a dragon. Dragons were banished from the Community for their—their awful war.
Dragons were… dragons were monsters.
A deep sense of unease settled over the little girl. Does that make me a monster?
But—no—that couldn't be. Rose wasn't a monster. She lived among humans, and despite now growing a tail and wings on occasion, Rose still thought of herself as a human. She might be a dragon, but she would never harm someone. Rose wasn't the sort to lash out or even raise her voice at someone in anger.
Rose was a good girl. Mother Mara said so. The idea that Rose would ever hurt someone with ill intent was—well, it was silly.
Yes, that's what it was.
Besides, surely Rose wouldn't be allowed to go to this school if they believed all dragons were evil? She didn't grow up a dragon, so maybe it was more of an evil culture than a biological issue. Nurture over nature, if Rose remembered correctly.
Rose was being silly.
No one thought she was a monster.
A quiet ringing surfaced in her mind. The professor's words faded and all she could hear was the thundering of gunshots and the cloying stench of gunpowder. Rose's breath hitched, caught in her throat, and her stomach plummeted like a rollercoaster going over the hill. Her palms began to sweat, and Rose forced her trembling hands into fists and closed her eyes.
Go away, go away, go away—
She chanted this mantra, every inch of her refusing to allow herself to think about that memory.
It didn't matter to her, at all.
Goosebumps still crawled down her arm like a centipede, and her stomach turned into a pretzel. As the stench of something acrid and sour starting to leave her, Rose tried to dismiss her unsettling feelings.
No one here thought she was a monster, Rose told herself. And Rose knew she wasn't evil or mean. Really, she had nothing to worry about…
So why did she feel so uneasy?
Despite her best efforts, Rose frequently found her attention wandering elsewhere during the lecture. Professor Laye alternated between having them read from the text and having them take notes. It was dreadfully boring, which made it hard for Rose to concentrate. Rose was more of an active learner and having to sit still and take notes all day was awful.
And if that wasn't bad enough, Rose couldn't keep her mind from thinking upsetting thoughts about what it meant to be a dragon.
It was with great relief that the class ended early, and many of the students let out a collective sigh of relief. Rose was anxious to get out of that classroom and find something else—anything else—to focus on.
"A-ah, Miss R-Rose, would you please come see me?" Professor Laye inquired.
Rose's stomach churned a bit at that, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was singling her out because she was a dragon. Did he think she was like the other dragons in the Dark War? Was he going to warn her? Threaten her?
Shoot her?
Her hands clenched into fists nervously as she approached his desk. Professor Laye gave her a tentative smile and held out a stack of paperwork for her. Rose took it carefully.
"There are some finer details that w-we don't cover in cl-class," Professor Laye began. "Most stu-udents already know this stuff fr-from their families. A-as I understand, th-though, you grew up a-as a human?"
Rose nodded, opening to the first page. At the top, written in bold letters, was: GENDER IDENTITY.
Professor Laye noticed her curious look and said, "Neheburs h-have multiple sexes. Humans o-only have two, genetically speaking, but… there a-are some terminology y-you should become familiar w-with and bi and ne-neutral sex terms are s-some of those."
Rose nodded at that, tentatively hoping that was all he had called her over for. "Oh, that makes sense. S-so you made this for me?"
"O-of course. You're m-my student," Professor Laye said, a surprisingly warm spark in his eyes. "I-if the s-subject becomes t-too hard for you, l-let me know and I'll arrange s-something for you. The Dark War is o-only covered in the first year—"
"I'll be okay," Rose stated firmly, trying to squash down her sense of relief. Of course, a teacher wouldn't want to shoot her, or something else like that. She immediately felt silly that she had even thought something like that would happen and felt the need to reassure the professor. "I'm not like the dragons in that war. I grew up with humans, and I… I love them. I would never hurt someone."
Professor Laye smiled a bit wider and nodded. "I-I believe y-you. G-good luck i-in your next class."
"Thank you, Professor," Rose thanked him honestly.
It was kind of him put together such a pamphlet for her, and she would look over it in her free time. Professor Laye waved her off.
Still, Rose couldn't quite shake the unease of discovering some of the dragon history.
What else did they do? How long will they be banished, and… why am I the only one here?
With those thoughts, Rose hurried out of the classroom and walked to the next class with Keinan and Chester.
Professor Nigel's classroom smelled like a forest in the morning. Rose couldn't resist smiling a bit at such a familiar and welcoming smell. Whereas most of the classrooms had stone flooring, Professor Nigel's classroom floor was a dark, shiny wood. The desks—exactly alike—were lined up on either side and made of wood, too. The right wall was an entire bookcase filled with pretty pictures and sculptures. Rose noticed that each of them were grouped by year, and she saw a spot made for her own year group.
The left wall had many easels and odd stations pressed against it. There were boxes filled with paints and other brightly colored things. Professor Nigel sat at the front of the classroom at an ordinary wooden desk with a big cup of steaming tea in front of him.
Rose gave her kingdom advisor a tentative smile and he inclined his head towards her.
She took her seat towards the front and pulled out her textbook and notebook. Unsurprisingly, Mortem sat beside her, shocking her shoulder as a greeting.
"Good day, students," the professor greeted once everyone was seated. "I trust everyone has had a good week so far?"
There were murmurs of agreement, which seemed to please him.
"Then we'll jump straight into it. Black Magic is the magic of illusion, the manipulation of the senses. The most basic Black Magic spells are strictly visual, which is what we'll be learning this year. It's imperative that you all understand the basics and, most importantly, that you can detect and dispel Black Magic when it is used against you. We will be practicing on one another next semester, and your final project this year will be creating your own visual illusion and holding it for at least ten minutes."
There were excited glances and whispers among the students at that. Professor Nigel gestured toward the easels and other stations on the left as he spoke.
"At the end of each period, you'll have time to either do your homework or work on your imagination. The most important trait for a Black Magic user is an active imagination, after all. Think freely, wildly, and rarely inside the box while you're in this classroom. Black Magic is the magic of wonder that can make dreams a reality if you've the mind for it."
Dreams a reality? Won't they still be an illusion? Or can they make them real? What makes things real in the first place? If someone sees, feels, smells, hears, and tastes something, then is it real even if it was made by Black Magic? Or…?
Those were questions that Rose put aside for another day.
"For now, however," Professor Nigel said as frozen orbs floated out from behind his desk and rested in front of each student, "we'll practice turning your magic into Black Magic."
To Rose's delighted surprise, Black Magic came to her as easily as Red, her sphere darkened into a deep black within the first minute of practice. She looked up excitedly to see if any of the other students had such an easy time. Mortem's sphere was the same as hers—she wondered if there was anything the Chasm kingmate didn't know how to do—as well as a couple of other students.
"Visualization is paramount for a Black Mage," Professor Nigel said, moving around the room.
His bright orange eyes gleamed behind his mask as he watched each student. Slabs of black marble flew off Professor Nigel's desk, settling in front of every student who had a black sphere. "Those ready to move on, please pick up your drawing boards. Everyone else, please don't feel discouraged and continue to practice drawing out your Black Magic."
Rose carefully set down her sphere, picking up the heavy black sheet of marble. It was cool to the touch, but when her fingers brushed across it, white lines immediately started to dance.
"These are called Dreamer's Parchment," Professor Nigel explained in his smooth voice. "They react to raw Black Magic, and form pictures of what you visualize in your mind. Go ahead and think of a tree beside a pond."
Rose's brow furrowed as she thought about a tree beside a pond. It was a big tree—a pine tree, in fact—and the pond was filled with fish. As she thought of the image white lines started to appear on the Dreamer's Parchment, loosely forming what she was imagining. As she started to see her drawing coming to life, Rose focused more details into it. She thought about birds flying above, and maybe it was not one tree, but hundreds of trees surrounding the pond.
It reminded her of her forest, and suddenly the image changed until she saw a black and white picture of her forest. The edges were a bit hazy, but slowly came into focus.
Seeing her forest made her think of Mr. Whiskers, and the image abruptly changed into that of her cat.
"Ah," Professor Nigel said, and Rose was startled to realize that he was standing over her shoulder, peering down at her picture. "One of the difficulties of Black Magic is that it requires a certain level of focus when it comes to your thoughts. An active imagination can be a wonderful thing, allowing you to conjure fascinating and vivid illusions. It can be equally trying, though, as it makes it harder to focus on a singular task."
Rose flushed, trying to picture her original image of a tree beside a pond.
Professor Nigel straightened back up, raising his voice to be heard by the rest of the students. "Dreamer's Parchment will give you all a chance to practice focusing your visualization and expanding upon it. You are only limited by your imagination, students. Have faith in yourselves, and you will surely be able to create masterpieces."
Rose's picture turned back into Mr. Whiskers, and Mortem snickered beside her.
"Shut up, jerk-butt," Rose muttered.
"You've already given me a nickname? How endearing, I didn't know you cared."
Rose's picture turned into some not nice words, which only made Mortem laugh in delight. His amusement mollified her anger—not that Rose was able to stay mad at people for long anyway—and the picture of the forest resumed. She still felt irritated by Mortem, but despite his annoyances, he still did help her out.
Ornery by nature? Rose figured, her picture wavering.
"You should try adding flowers," Mortem said, looking over at her picture. Rose glanced over at his own, losing focus immediately when she saw how detailed it was. And the fact that it was colored.
Rose gaped. "How are you doing that? How'd you get colors?"
"Once you've got the details down, then you can learn about colors," Mortem told her, looking over at his picture.
"My…" he hesitated for a split second before continuing, "... mother is an exceptionally skilled Black Mage. The house is filled with things like Dreamer's Parchment, and drawing with magic is one of the things we—we do together."
"That sounds nice," Rose said softly, staring down at her own picture. "What's she like?"
"She's very stubborn," Mortem muttered. "Annoyingly so and is one of the most emotional Neheburs I have ever met. She works as an illusionist in Atlantis at one of the best Dreamur Clubs."
At Rose's questioning look, Mortem elaborated. "Someone who is especially skilled in one of the main arts can be called a mage of that art. Mother is talented in Black Magic, so she is a Black Mage. Most Black Mages work as an illusionist, or for the Order. An illusionist is someone who makes dreams into a reality for a brief period of time. A Dreamur Club is where an illusionist works. For example—say a man wants to live out a fantasy adventure without the actual danger. He would go to a Dreamur Club and hire an illusionist for a few hours and the illusionist would conjure such vivid illusions, it's almost like he's really going on a fantasy adventure."
"That sounds amazing," Rose exclaimed, her eyes bright. "They can do anything with those illusions?"
"Anything legal," Mortem answered her. "Of course, different Clubs offer different kinds of illusions. Mother specializes in treasure hunting, or puzzle-type illusions. She's exceptional and is usually booked several months in advance."
Wow.
"She sounds very impressive," Rose said with a smile. "I think I'd like to go to a Dreamur Club at least once."
"What illusion would you want to have?" Mortem inquired.
"I'd want to go on an adventure with my cat," Rose answered promptly.
"Perhaps it's time to focus on a new prompt," Professor Nigel interjected smoothly, before he raised his voice to address the class, "those with Parchments, please focus on building me a house. Think about its interior, as well as exterior, and I will examine your work towards the end of class."
Oops. Back to work.
At the end of class, Rose stayed in her seat while the other students got up and left. She waited until they were gone before she hesitantly approached Professor Nigel. The tall man looked down at Rose behind his mask and asked her, "How may I assist you, Miss Rose?"
"Mr—Mr. Whiskers," Rose began.
Professor Nigel held up his hand in a gesture of silence. Then with a flick of his wrist, his magic rushed out and closed the classroom door. Rose heard it click shut behind her, and she glanced back in surprise.
He doesn't want the other students to hear me ask about Mr. Whiskers?
"Go on, Miss Rose. What about Mr. Whiskers?"
"I only want to make sure he's okay."
Professor Nigel shifted his weight. "Ah, yes. Mr. Whiskers enjoys his new home. He's with lovely people and gets to eat whatever he wants. He's quite happy, I assure you."
Rose's stomach twisted at that. On one hand, she was happy that Mr. Whiskers was okay and happy, but she wished that happiness was with her. She felt guilty for her jealousy, and unconsciously lowered her gaze.
"Thank you, Professor Nigel. I-I'm happy he's happy."
"I'm sure he'll be overjoyed when you're reunited again," Professor Nigel told her kindly.
Rose peered back up at him, unable to keep the hopeful edge out of her voice. "Do you think so? Do you think he misses me? That we'll be together again?"
"There is not a doubt in my mind, Miss Rose."
Rose smiled at that, feeling her worries ebb away. "Thank you. Ah, um, sorry to have kept you! Bye-bye, Professor Nigel."
"Good day, Miss Rose."
...🌹...
Rose's head was bowed, the young dragon chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip as she focused entirely on trying to quickly perfectly draw the seal of light. She didn't have an intuitive grasp of how to use the calligraphy brush, so most of her seals came out painfully sloppy. Rose herself wasn't a messy writer—Mother Mara made sure Rose had pristine handwriting, and taught Rose how to use her right hand instead of her left—but she was a poor drawer.
The seals were intricate, curly, and awkward to draw. Even the basic seals, like what Rose was working on, were difficult to consistently get accurate.
Professor Rina was adamant that they had to be able to perfectly draw the seals. She said that if anyone tried to use a seal that was out of balance—as in some lines were even slightly thicker than others on the same seal—it could literally blow up in their faces.
Which was probably why magic wouldn't be used in the White Magic classroom until fourth year, and the first three years were spent entirely on memorization and getting the hang of drawing the seals.
Runes were even harder, from what Rose surmised. Runes were a combination of seals, perfectly mixed and drawn together.
Rose was working hard at trying to correctly draw the seals from their homework. Professor Rina also stressed that they would need to learn how to work quickly, since once the drawing began and if they waited too long, the seal could lose stability.
So, Rose was trying to draw the seals in seconds.
It resulted in her quickly filling up notebook after notebook of blobs of ink that slowly transformed into something resembling a seal. She worked as fast as she could, only pausing to flip a page when she ran out of space.
She had already filled up nearly ten notebooks. Professor Nigel went ahead and ordered her a hundred that was kept in his office for Rose to grab when she was ready.
She felt bad about wasting all that paper, but Professor Nigel reassured her that what was used could be recycled.
At Rose's right was Chester. Her friend was slowly working through accurately drawing each seal. His seals came out much prettier than Rose's, but he took too long on each of them. He said he'd get faster with practice, though.
And on Rose's left was Keinan. While Rose and Chester worked diligently on their homework in the library, Keinan had his head down on the table and was snoring.
Suddenly, a loud gurgle interrupted their silent session.
Rose's cheeks flushed red, and she glared down at her traitorous stomach. Chester bit down hard on his lip to keep from laughing. "Time for dinner?"
Sheepishly, Rose said, "If you don't mind?"
"Sure." Chester proceeded to whack Keinan on top of the head with one of his notebooks. "Let's go, glutton."
"Food?" Keinan asked tiredly, blinking.
"Yeah," Rose said. "Um, what about your homework?"
"Eh. I thrive on procrastination," Keinan said with a shrug.
"If you wake me up at 4 in the morning to try and get help, I will end you," Chester warned his friend.
"You keep saying that, but you never will," Keinan said, grinning widely. "Such a pal."
Rose coughed. "Well, maybe you should try doing your homework with us next time?"
"Nah," Keinan said, shaking his head. "I get better sleep this way. I hate sleeping alone in my room. I always had my siblings back home, so it feels… weird."
"I'm sorry," Rose apologized. She had to admit that it was hard not being able to sleep with Mr. Whiskers ever again. "Are you—are you close to your siblings, then?"
"Yeah. I've got three younger sisters, and a little brother," Keinan said, nodding. "Although only Alice is coherent."
"Coherent?" Rose repeated.
"Long-lived Neheburs have large magical cores," Chester explained. "They hatch once enough of their core materializes, but it can still take a few decades before it's stable. During this time, they can sometimes slip in an out of a—a coma, if you will. Kind of like how a baby sleeps all the time? Except this sleep can last years. This is defined as the infant stage, and once they're done falling into comas, they become coherent."
Years? Rose thought to herself, amazed. She knew that some Neheburs lived for thousands of years, so perhaps years didn't mean much to them, but to her… she couldn't wrap her head around it.
Keinan slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Alice just became coherent last year. She'll probably come to Gardenia in about ten years."
"Gosh… wait… um," Rose mumbled, another question popping into her head. "If it takes years to become coherent… and another ten… um… how old is your younger sister, exactly?"
"If we're going by Surface Realm years," Keinan trailed off, his brow furrowed. "I guess sixty-five?"
"S-s-s—how old a-are you?"
"Seventy-nine," Keinan answered. "But I only remember about—eh—twenty years? I'm still really young for arachoa, though. Why?"
"B—bu—b—"
Rose was at a loss for what to say. That ought to have made Keinan an adult. He was apparently older than Mother Mara! But he was considered a child? How did that work?
"What's wrong? I mean, you're a dragon, so you've gotta at least be three hundred," Keinan said flippantly. "Dragons have the biggest magical cores, yeah? Liches are behind them and it takes them about three hundred Surface Realm years to become stable and coherent."
Rose was starting to wheeze, her mind spinning faster than a ballerina. "Wh-what? B-but I—I've only had ten birthdays!"
"Rose," Chester said gently, "Neheburs age a lot more differently than humans. Being alive for a set amount of time doesn't equate to maturity, or knowledge. Furthermore, our homeworlds have much longer years than the Surface Realm does."
"But…" Rose's brow furrowed as she tried to process all this information.
Three hundred? But I don't… I don't remember anything other than being human.
Could Rose really be so old? She didn't feel like it. She couldn't remember anything before her time at the orphanage. Her earliest memory was of Mr. Whiskers crawling into her crib one night when Mother Mara left the window open. She had been crying, and he had come to her and comforted her. She could remember the feeling of warm fur, and how gentle and careful he was with her.
"I just…" Rose whispered, "I just wished I remembered."
But she couldn't.
And she might never.