Estery could hardly wait for her friend to finish her exam before dragging her to the student cafeteria.
“Can you believe it?!” she whispered into Miella’s ear, keeping her voice low so no one else could overhear as they settled at an empty table. “That guy is going to be teaching us fire magic.”
“I’ve already been filled in on that,” Miella mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich.
“And I’ve been assigned as his assistant,” Estery added darkly.
Her friend nearly choked on her food and coughed loudly.
“Are you serious?!”
“I’m not exactly in the mood for jokes,” Estery said, taking a sip of her juice. “I was hoping to assist the rector. He’s a peaceful, calm person—” She caught Miella’s skeptical look and corrected herself, “Well, mostly calm and reasonable. But this guy? He’s got ‘walking disaster’ written all over his forehead!”
“You’re the walking disaster around here!” Miella burst out laughing. “He nearly became a lying-down disaster, thanks to you!”
“Oh, you’re such a great support!” Estery huffed.
“Speaking of ‘support,’ you should definitely ask this new instructor for some,” Miella continued to giggle. “His reflexes are lightning-fast: caught you, supported you, and held you up!” She suddenly reached for the magi-viewer, a crystal hemisphere on every table that allowed students to check the news during breaks. “Oh! Look at this!” She pointed at the projection floating up from the crystal. “Dalarn fer Artor is looking for a steward-artificer for his estate. And the pay he’s offering is incredible! Someone’s going to hit the jackpot.”
Estery immediately turned the projection of the ad toward herself, reading it carefully. Two deep furrows formed between her brows, and her lips pressed into a tight line, betraying the intense thought process behind her expression.
“Don’t scare me,” Miella nudged her shoulder. “Whenever you get that look on your face, I know something outrageously illegal is coming,” she hissed under her breath.
“I need this job,” Estery muttered thoughtfully. “A few months of work, and I could buy that little house.”
“Let me think about why he won’t hire you,” Miella said, setting her glass of juice aside. “You don’t have an artificer’s license. You’ve got zero experience for the kind of work they’re asking for, and no references either. And, most importantly—” she crossed her arms triumphantly, “you’re not a man!”
“You forgot the biggest reason,” Estery grimaced. “After our little clash today, he wouldn’t hire me even if I had all those things you just listed.”
She silently added to herself: if he ever found out about the other reason, he wouldn’t just refuse to hire her—he’d throttle her! But thankfully, that reason wasn’t yet associated with her in his mind.
“Exactly, my friend!” Miella waved her hand to dismiss the local news projection. “So, just finish eating before we’re late for the next exam.”
But the idea of earning that money had gripped Estery so tightly that she nearly flunked her artifact crafting exam. No, she didn’t fail in the sense of not passing. She almost aced it, fueled by her anger at Fer Artor’s condescending remark about women’s inability to handle serious disciplines. Only when she saw the professor’s eyes widen at her answers did she remember she was supposed to be on shaky ground with this subject. She started stammering on purpose. Still, it didn’t stop the professor from nodding approvingly and squeezing out a reluctant, “You can do it when you want to.”
Estery stormed out of the lecture hall, her eyes flashing with irritation. Her nostrils flared so much it seemed like, if not fire, then at least steam would burst out of them.
“What?!” Miella glanced at her nervously. “Did he make you retake it?!”
“Worse!” Estery snapped, pulling her friend farther away from the other students.
“Expelled?!” Miella’s voice cracked in alarm.
“He gave me a ‘good,’” Estery grumbled. “I almost pulled off an ‘excellent.’”
“Wow, you really went off,” Miella whistled. “Did that handsome jerk get under your skin that much?” she teased, narrowing her eyes slyly.
“What handsome jerk?!” Estery barked. “I couldn’t care less about his face!”
“Oh, come on, that’s a stretch,” Miella smirked. “You can’t just brush off a face like that. And those eyes!” She rolled her own dreamily. “Like an August night sky during a meteor shower.”
“Falling for someone is like falling from that sky for you,” Estery wrinkled her nose in amusement, recalling all of Miella’s past crushes. “You’ve managed to skip over the rector, though.”
“Why would I go for the rector when there’s a younger version of him—Liell fer Deymar!” Miella giggled, referring to their classmate, the rector’s son.
“Lucky for the rector he’s got a son and not a daughter,” Estery shook her head mockingly. “Otherwise, the poor man wouldn’t know how to fend off your obsession with his scholarly self.”
“He’s married,” Miella pouted. “And I need someone who’s available. My dad’s started dropping hints that it’s time for me to find a fiancé. I don’t want to go back to our little provincial town! It’s too stifling there!”
“Then take this Dalarn fer Artor for yourself,” Estery grinned wickedly.
“No, no, no!” Miella waved her hands frantically. “There’s enough sparks flying between you two already. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”
“Don’t make things up!” Estery snapped. “He’s way out of my league. A duke’s son and a nobody orphan? We’d just be a laughingstock at court.”
“Oh, please! Court!” Miella mimicked her. “From what I’ve heard, his own father married a nobody.”
“Not a nobody,” Estery corrected, “just not of noble birth. That’s different. Besides, those non-nobles are usually scholars who’ve earned their titles through intellect.”
“You’ve got every chance to earn one too, if you stop hiding your brains.”
“I will!” Estery nodded. “Just… a little later.”
For now, all of Estery’s thoughts were consumed with crafting a plan to land the steward-artificer position. And it was devilishly complicated! Changing her hair, eye, and skin color was one thing. Changing her gender? That was a whole different beast. She’d need a powerful artifact—one that could sustain the illusion of her appearance for at least a full day and alter her voice from feminine to masculine. To create it, she’d have to venture into the Twilight Forest at night to hunt for wandering mist. Then, she’d need to collect dew from chimera flowers, which changed color and shape throughout the day depending on the sunlight. And finally, she’d have to extract a crystal from the Cave of the Shifting Moon. Easy peasy!
The hardest part was the mist: it appeared wherever and whenever it pleased. And the key was not to get caught in it herself. At best, you’d be lost for a day or two. At worst, if the rumors were true, some never returned at all. Getting trapped between worlds was definitely not on her to-do list.
In theory, she could gather all the necessary components in a single night. While hunting for the mist, the dew would form, and by the first rays of dawn, she could head to the cave. The only problem? Sneaking out of the dorm unnoticed, disabling the protective barrier around the student campus, then reactivating it, and repeating the whole process in reverse after collecting everything. A piece of cake!
“Alright, Miella!” Estery turned to her friend decisively once they were outside and far from the academic building. “I’m going to need your help.”
Miella nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You’re going to give me gray hairs!” she hissed, pursing her lips in frustration. “Or make me stutter for life!”
“We’ll fix it!” Estery waved off the concern.
“If you’re the one fixing it, I’d rather keep the stutter,” Miella wrinkled her nose. “I know your methods—you’ll finish me off for good.”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Estery smirked, recalling how she’d once tried to heal Miella’s toothache in the middle of the night, only to transfer the pain to her leg. Miella couldn’t stand on it for hours, but hey, the toothache stopped.
“Barely,” Miella muttered. “Healing is definitely not your thing.”
“What I need isn’t in the realm of healing, so don’t worry,” Estery said, patting her on the shoulder.
“After your ‘don’t worry,’ I might need a healer to fix my poor eye, which is guaranteed to start twitching,” Miella grimaced even more.
Stopping, Estery gave her a scrutinizing look and concluded with satisfaction:
“It’s not twitching yet, so there’s a chance it’ll hold off on any unplanned spasms for a while.”
“How lucky for the world that you didn’t go into healing!” Miella shook her head, making her golden curls bounce. “So many people will survive thanks to that!”
“Let them live!” Estery waved a hand dismissively and tugged Miella along. “You’ll need to distract the guards at the exit tonight. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Where are you off to now?!” Miella growled under her breath. “In the middle of the night!”
“Exactly—middle of the night,” Estery nodded calmly. “Because what I need can only be found at night.”
“Wait a second,” Miella froze, stunned. “You’ve actually decided to apply for the steward position at Fer Artor’s estate?!”
“Yup,” Estery grinned, her eyes gleaming with determination as she hooked her arm through Miella’s and pulled her along.
“Okay, let’s say you manage to pull off a male disguise,” Miella muttered resignedly. “But you don’t even know how to act like one!” she nearly exclaimed.
“What’s there to know?!” Estery scoffed. “When in doubt, just act like an idiot!”
“Oh, sure,” Miella nodded sarcastically. “Such profound insight. Clearly, you’re an expert on male psychology.”
“It’s not that complicated with them,” Estery sneered. “‘In my firm opinion, women aren’t suited for such complex disciplines. Even if they’re straight-A students,’” she mimicked Fer Artor’s arrogant tone with venom. “I’ll become his steward just to spite him! I’ll shake every last penny out of him!” She stomped her foot for emphasis.
“I don’t know if you’ll shake anything out of him, but he’s already shaken you up pretty good in every sense, seeing how worked up you are,” Miella teased with a biting tone.
“Well, let him compensate me for my terrible distress!” Estery bared her teeth, replaying their clash in her mind and winding herself up even more. “Jerk!”
“Ohhh,” Miella drawled despairingly, “this feels like a full-on earthquake brewing.”
“Miella!” Estery snapped. “Whose side are you on?!”
“Yours, of course,” Miella quickly patted her shoulder. “Otherwise, heaven forbid, you might decide to ‘heal’ me from something else, and I definitely won’t survive that.”
Estery just rolled her eyes as she hurried down the steps toward the dorm.