A knock on the door caused Edward to look up from the document he'd been reading. He pushed down his glasses, cleared his throat, and grunted a "Come in". The one who walked in was someone Edward had not expected to see. Promptly getting up from his seat, he paid respect by bowing his head.
"Mr. Steadman." Edward nervously greeted. "Welcome to MARC."
Zachary Steadman was a man of great height and grace. His black hair was sleeked back with gleaming transparent gel. As he walked, he kept his hands behind his back, taking long confident strides. The Minister of Knowledge and Research was a wizard Edward highly respected. Wizards were sorcerers that specialized in study and innovation, ever inventing better ways to use magic. And Zachary was the most learned of them all. He was a genius, in fact. Edward idolized geniuses.
Today, Zachary was wearing the Sentry Alliance's indigo and black leather coat, characteristically worn by ministers of the mystic world. Smiling, he approached the desk.
"Edward! Please do sit down." He said with a wave of his hand, taking the seat opposite the sphinx.
Edward coughed, trying to hide his excitement. "We were not expecting you."
"Oh, I was just passing by." Zachary casually shrugged. His eyes then darkened, and he leaned in, placing his intertwined fingers on the table. "I came to warn you."
"Warn me?"
He nodded. "The board is discussing moving this facility to another realm. Word of the insurgency in Migdon has reached the Sentry Alliance, and they are arguing siting the Rehabilitation Center here is putting the youngsters at risk."
"That's nonsense!" Edward barked, completely outraged. "MARC has more than enough capacity to protect its students. And it's only a matter of time before our civil crisis is handled as well."
Leaning back in his seat, Zachary drummed his right hand's fingers on the desk, gazing at the books on the shelves. "Personally, I do not doubt your competence. But the directors are skeptical people." He turned to the monster in front of him. "Take care of the crisis quickly, and there should be no problem."
"Of course."
A sweat broke on Edward's temple after the minister left. He'd lied when he'd said the issue of the insurgence would be soon resolved. This rebellion was the worst in the monster realm's history. Monsters were naturally violent creatures, so fights occurred often, but never this intensely. A group of dwarfs could be having a drink at the bar, only to be attacked and slaughtered by a pack of manticores.
Their motivation was clear. The citizens of Migdon were not happy about the realm's alliance with the SA. According to them, the otherworlders were ruining their heritage. What heritage? Edward wondered. Originally, Migdon had been a place of darkness, blood, and terror. The sentries had brought with them civilization, medicine, and education. What more could one ask for?
No matter, the civil crisis had to be extinguished immediately. The monster realm could not lose MARC; the institution was their major source of revenue. If they did, the land would fall into a severe recession.
Another knock on the door made Edward raise an eyebrow. Was there something the minister had forgotten to tell him? More bad news? He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw it was only a student. It took some seconds for him to realize it was the girl from earlier that day. She looked better than before —tidy and a lot less shaggy.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Fiona Lynec, isn't it?" Edward continued the document he'd been reading.
"Yes."
"And how can I help you?"
Fiona bit her lower lip, standing a good meter away from the principal. She hated to admit it, but she was nervous. Finding her way back to this office had been easy —she had good retentive memory. As she'd approached the building, she'd walked with confidence, assured that her plan would work. Now the time had come to carry it out, she was seriously doubting her readiness. Perhaps it was the realization that if she failed here, she could be facing an actual life in this school.
Biting her lip harder, Fiona decided she could not afford to hesitate. It was now or never.
"Please, I request that you call the Sentry Alliance and insist they take me home." She blurted the sentence out fast, before she could stop herself.
"Why would I do that?" Edward asked, wearing a confused frown.
"This center is designed to help supernaturals with unique disorders, right? Well, I don't have a disorder! I'm completely normal. I don't belong here."
"So you meant to release that mana surge? "
Words choked in Fiona's throat. The question had caught her off guard. She still believed she had nothing to do with that devastating energy blast, but it had to have come from somewhere. The face she'd seen in her vision was the key. Surprisingly, Fiona hadn't mentioned the woman to anybody. Not to the guardians who had interrogated her at the SA headquarters, not to her father, and certainly not to MARC's principal. Something seemed to be holding her back from describing her encounter to others. It was a complex feeling, which she did not wish, at all, to analyze.
"I didn't do it." Fiona finally answered Edward.
He rested on his cushioned chair, his disbelief apparent in his expression. "Look, I want you to be right. However, I can't just call the guardians. You have to go through a screening first, and obtain a signed approval that states you are 'healthy'."
"But I didn't do it." Fiona mumbled.
"If that is the case, you will be discharged in no time. Our grading system is quite thorough, but fair. The staffs here closely observe you, academically, mentally, socially, and magically; then give you a score, weekly, based on how well they think you're faring. If you get an overall average of 90 and above for two months straight, you'll be able to leave."
Her eyes widening in horror, Fiona took in the fact that no matter how well she behaved, she would be spending two months in MARC. Eight weeks of her life... Wasted! What about her fashion career? The designer had probably written her off by now, taking it that she wasn't the diligent type. Fiona was diligent! There was nothing she wanted more than to prove herself in the fashion world.
"I didn't do it!" She screeched out of pure frustration.
Never had Edward heard someone who sounded so much like they were trying to convince themselves, rather than the person they were talking to. Most students he met were either angry or indifferent to be in MARC. None argued they were wrongfully enrolled. He really hoped the human child was not deluding herself. It would be difficult to assist her if she kept insisting she was fine.
"I'm sorry, but rules are rules. The processes must be followed." He solemnly told her.
The tone of finality in his voice convinced Fiona that she would get nowhere with the principal. Their discussion was over. Two months. That was what she must deal with. Two months of excellent grades. Two months of living with the staff and student body of MARC. Two months of putting a pause on chasing her dream. Two months of absolute torture.