Misprinted Identity

"The name I have here is Aris."

"That clearly says Avic, you hear? Av-ik."

"You could be lying about that."

"And so could she."

Like the rest of the small crowd, Mercia was drawn to the front steps of the mage school because she heard a commotion. Those were the first words she'd actually managed to make out, between the headmaster and a boy, about her age. Another professor was holding his elbow, but he pulled away with the slightest tug, and straightened his shirt.

"Did you look into your students at all before letting them into a dorm? Or did they just say a name that looks right? Yeah, no way that could be the wrong student. Looks pretty bad for your reputation."

"That's enough!" the headmaster snapped.

Oh Avic had him now. The headmaster was a no nonsense type, who was usually quick to shut things down. But the boy had just questioned the school's reputation in front of a medium sized group, some of whom didn't go there. He'd have to put them at ease.

"Come with me to my office. We'll get the situation sorted there."

On second thought, if this was one on one, the boy would lose that leverage. Never the less, the two walked back into the castle. Avic was going to school there the next day.

***

"I don't believe it," Ghia said, not for the first time.

Ghia was what Mercia called the girl dorm's rich bitch. She had to wear the same gray dress as the other girls, but the wealth was revealed with her bracelets, hairbands, and fancy pen. And of course, her personality.

She was also Aris' old roommate. Aris had indeed been going to this school before Avic showed up, but she had been missing for a few days before then.

"Aris told me about her hopes to get into this school," Ghia continued. "And how bothersome the paperwork was."

"You realize anyone could lie about that?" Mercia asked. She herself hadn't heard Aris talk often, and when she did, she seemed moody. Like this school wasn't all it was cracked up to be, maybe. "Frankly, I respect her more if it's true. Do crime. Really bold crime."

Mercia herself was planning to use magic to become a thief. Though she would not be bold and tell anyone about that.

Ghia shook her head. "There's no way it's true."

"I think maybe they're siblings pulling a con," Sodi suggested. She was one of the rare reptilians enrolled at the school, currently knitting a turtleneck. Mercia didn't think knitted clothes could actually help a reptile stay warm, but maybe it was for the aesthetic. "They looked kind of similar with their hair and. . .nose." Sodi gestured vaguely. "They could've planned this out. Each gets a turn to learn magic for the price of one."

"I don't think the two have anything to do with each other," said Monka. (She was from the desert, and had gotten in trouble because her hair was too short for the girl's uniform.) "I think the headmaster lost Avic's application, and won't own up to it. Avic is the one who thought there was a connection in the similarly written names, and the headmaster went along with it to avoid humiliation."

"You're all naive!" Ghia shouted, standing up and flinging her tea cup down. "Avic can say anything he likes and the headmaster will go along with it as long as Aris isn't around to question him. It's obvious, isn't it? He murdered her to take her spot."

So dramatic. Not that it was surprising. One didn't make a scene like that and not get people theorizing.

But the rumor mill was always chugging on, looking for new blood. Mever was caught cheating, Albo ran away, and there were rumors of Zafa sleeping with teachers to get good grades. People moved on.

Plus, there was still actual school work to be done. Studying to do and extracurriculars to take.

Mercia joined the leather working club. Avic was in that one too. He seemed a little shy, but he told her he wanted his mage robes to be leather some day.

"Don't know of anyone who makes robes in that material. So I'll just have to, uh, make it myself," he justified.

Interesting thought process, but she kind of liked it, and liked talking to him. And there were only so many people she liked talking to here. So somewhere along the line, they went from friends in a club to study buddies, not that they always stayed focused on their studies.

"And that is why Podd's theory on where magic comes from is nothing but hot air."

"Oh don't let the professor hear you say that," Mercia said.

"I could handle it."

"I have no doubt you could. My concern is if you should."

"Of course I shouldn't, that's why I haven't told him."

Mercia let out a little laugh at that. Before she could think of what to say in reply, she saw the time on the grandfather clock, and promptly stood up.

"I have to go," she announced. "I have to get to class."

"Good luck. Maybe with enough practice, you'll be able to mend your soul," Avic joked, apparently picking up on her less than innocent personality.

"Ha. Ha."

Each person had a magic specialty, an area that came easier to them than others. They could ignore it, and try to study something else, but their time alive was limited, and they'd be fighting an uphill battle. Why waste the time?

The man who owned a coffee shop down the street was an elementalist. He figured out he could put the ice cubes he made into the coffee, and then never shut up about it. In fairness, his cold coffee concoctions were quite good. One of her favorite places to go.

Mercia's own specialty, what Avic was talking about, was mending. That didn't help with her thief goals, but it was pretty useful. The most obvious application was fixing clothes or shoes. But she could also fix splintered wood. She repaired Ghia's tea cup when she was in one of her moods. With enough practice, she could do some healing.

And Avic's specialty was illusion magic. "And how are your fake pictures going?" Mercia asked.

"Hey now, I can create real things." He smiled toothily. "They'll just have the consistency of paper mache."

Avic got up and headed for his own class, apparently not realizing the significance of what he just said.

Mercia, for her part, found her feet rooted to the ground. She swayed on the spot slightly, like a buoy. Because what had Aris said? All those months back when she had a book on branches of magic?

"Illusionists aren't conjurers. They don't make things. The most substantial things they can make have the consistency of paper mache."

That was very specific phrasing.

Avic had his differences. The leather working hobby was new. He swore on one God while Aris had used all three.

But Avic had taken her student slot. That practically invited comparisons.

She could be wrong. There was a decent chance, in fact, that she was just making wild theories like Ghia and Sodi. But now that she'd thought of it, she was amazed no one else had suggested it. (Not that she'd be sharing out loud.)

Aris and Avic. Were they. . .

***

Avic went to his classroom, took a seat at the back, and tapped the end of his pen against the paper absently. He'd been here less than a year. And that was counting, er, both his identities. He was already ready to leave this stifling building. And the strict arrogant teachers, and spoiled or naive students, could kiss his ass.

The only exception he'd met was Mercia. She was smart, she was funny, and he got the feeling she was jaded.

He couldn't just steal books or supplies from the school and split. It wasn't that simple. There were actual defenses. But with some work, he could learn enough to practice magic, and take off before graduation. If he did things right, he might be able to become self-taught after he left, if he wanted to learn anything more.

He could change names after he left, he supposed. He'd picked Avic because it could conceivably look similar to Aris in writing (while sounding mercifully different). After he left, that would no longer be an issue. The whole world of names would be open to him. But, he didn't know. He'd grown fond of "Avic."

The teacher had entered and started class, but Avic was barely paying attention. The way his voice droned on made him simple to ignore. And as long as Avic didn't slouch or put his elbows on his desk or whatever the teacher considered "unprofessional," he wouldn't pay attention to him.

One thing was for sure, Avic would have to leave before any of the teachers caught on, which would be easier the sooner he left. There was no way that this school and its strictly delineated gender rules would accept him. And even in places that would, well, he'd rather they just not know there was anything to accept.

The only person he might be okay with was Mercia. And that was just if something happened against his will. He certainly wouldn't tell her.

***

Aris and Avic. Were they. . .

The same person?