Chapter 106

Esme Academy was difficult to mistake for anything else.

Nearly every major structure surrounding it reached upward.

Residential towers.

Commercial towers.

Administrative towers.

Structures so tall their upper levels disappeared behind other layers of Everwell Prime before my unenhanced [Perception] could meaningfully follow them.

Esme Academy instead spread outward.

An immense stand-alone complex of pale stone-like material, reflective metal, glass, suspended gardens, open courtyards, and broad terraces layered across one another in deliberate asymmetry.

Even the bridges connecting its separate wings curved in ways I doubted structural engineering required.

Prestige.

Wealth.

History.

And enough confidence to waste some of Everwell Prime's most valuable resource—space—on looking beautiful.

I approved.

Orris floated beside me as we approached one of the Academy's upper entrances, the transparent sphere containing their ribbon-like body reflecting portions of the building around us.

Arranging today's visit had taken longer than expected.

I offered several dates.

Esme Academy offered several others.

One professor became unavailable.

My Essence recovered earlier than anticipated, which removed another because I refused to delay my [Cultivation] merely to preserve a social appointment.

Orris mediated throughout.

Eventually, both sides settled on today.

My expected role also changed somewhere along the way.

The original invitation had merely concerned a guest evaluation and the possibility of some manner of honorary association.

Then several Esme professors reviewed the economic work Orris had forwarded.

Questions followed.

More records.

A preliminary discussion.

Then my proposed demonstration became a lecture because, apparently, there was little [Purpose] in privately demonstrating something the Academy considered suitable for its students to hear.

So...

Temporary guest lecturer.

At six years old—conception age wasn't actually a thing, after all.

I had dressed accordingly.

My white-and-gold social skinweave remained recognizable as the one I wore to higher-end gatherings, but I had adjusted it toward something more suitable for an Academy.

The fitted inner layer preserved unrestricted movement around my wings.

The outer structure was clean, expensive-looking and actually expensive, and formal without becoming delicate enough that merely flying quickly would become a concern.

Gold traced restrained patterns across pearl-white material.

My hands and feet remained covered.

Small crystalline ornaments kept my pale opalescent hair arranged without competing with it.

No excessive jewelry.

No trailing fabric.

Nothing whose sole [Purpose] appeared to be proving I could afford it.

Practicality.

Competence.

Social standing.

With just enough ornamentation to make the expense obvious to people who knew what they were looking at.

And from my experience...

Enough people did.

We hadn't even crossed the entrance before my [Awareness], assisted by my [Clarity] and [Guided], began identifying repeated glances.

Students occupied the terraces.

Walked between buildings.

Flew along dedicated aerial routes.

Talked around exterior seating spaces.

Most looked once.

Some looked twice.

Then one student noticed Orris.

Or perhaps recognized that the strange little fairy accompanying them might have something to do with the "unusual guest lecture" several professors had apparently been refusing to explain.

The reaction spread.

A student looked at me.

Leaned toward someone else.

That person looked.

Then another.

By the time we entered the main atrium, fragments were already reaching my [Awareness].

"...that's her?"

"...thought they'd bring someone older."

"...fairy?"

"...do you know her?"

That last question produced exactly the result I expected.

The nearest fairy student shook her head.

Then another student asked a second fairy.

Another denial.

Interesting.

Esme Academy did not possess an especially large fairy population.

The fairies it did possess, however...

Those were considerably more interesting.

Their clothing alone made some family backgrounds obvious.

The rest became so once [Guided] started returning names.

Old and entrenched Fairy Court lineages.

Families with established commercial interests.

Families whose members had occupied Court positions for generations.

Families whose children did not need to spend months discovering that certain institutions existed because relatives had already walked through their doors.

One dark-haired fairy being questioned near the entrance belonged to a lineage that appeared repeatedly in Court records involving inheritance administration and long-term capital stewardship.

The golden-winged one beside her had an aunt on the supervisory body of a major intertower lending institution.

A third belonged to a family involved in managing Realm Rift-derived assets across several generations.

And none of them knew who I was.

Excellent.

"The professors truly kept quiet," I remarked.

Orris' manipulators shifted faintly inside their sphere.

"They enjoy suspense and their students either missing out on interesting optional lectures or attending ones that make other students in turn dejected," they answered, seemingly from experience.

We continued deeper into the Academy grounds.

The central atrium somehow found even more ways to spend space.

Multiple floors opened into one enormous chamber crossed by bridges, transparent elevators, flight corridors, suspended discussion platforms, and broad stairways for morphologies that preferred them.

Historical financial instruments occupied display cases along one wall.

Portraits and sculptures of former faculty occupied another.

At the center hovered an enormous active [Ether] device projecting an [Illusion] filled with commercial, financial, and Realm-travel information from across Everwell Prime.

Interesting information, by the look of it too.

I slowed.

Orris noticed.

"No," they said before I could say anything.

"I haven't asked anything."

"You were about to."

"So that means there's no record of all the information that has been displayed there before?"

"No."

"I don't believe it."

"We are meeting the professors first."

I looked at them.

They kept floating.

Fine.

I followed.

Five people waited for us in a quieter reception space.

Four professors.

One administrator.

I recognized all of them.

Arriving at Esme Academy without researching the people explicitly assigned to receive me would have been embarrassing.

Professor Saelin taught institutional financial analysis and had previously worked within two major capital-management organizations.

Professor Hirad specialized in commercial logistics and procurement economics.

Professor Velthea focused on long-horizon investment structures.

Professor Melisandre, a fellow fairy, taught intergenerational finance and portions of Fairy Court commercial law.

Which made her interesting.

Her lineage, which included several economically relevant ancestors, made her more so.

The administrator handled the introductions anyway, and I let her.

Correct forms of address.

Appropriate attention.

Enough deference toward older experts to remain polite without performing inferiority I did not feel.

Smile.

Eye contact.

Questions only when a natural opening appeared.

[Guided] handled most of the routine, as I couldn't allow a single mistake this time.

Professor Melisandre regarded me for slightly longer than the others once the introductions ended.

"So you're Solaena."

"I was reasonably certain of it this morning."

There was a beat of silence.

Then she smiled.

"I was warned about your answers."

"That's less useful. You haven't heard this one before."

Professor Hirad laughed.

Good.

The atmosphere relaxed exactly enough.

The administrator then explained the schedule.

A final review of my lecture.

A short tour if time allowed.

Amphitheater preparation.

Lecture.

Questions.

Then, if the Academy remained interested, discussion of some form of honorary guest status and the access attached to it.

I already knew all of that, but still listened until she finished instead of interrupting merely to prove it.

Professor Saelin glanced toward me.

"Any concerns?"

"Only that the tour is described as short."

"It can become longer later."

"If the library is involved, I accept those terms."

Another smile.

We moved.

And because I had already researched Esme Academy extensively, my questions weren't about things a public introduction could answer.

How did Esme separate student access from faculty research access?

Which historical case studies retained identifiable organizations?

How often were students allowed to examine live commercial problems rather than completed ones?

How many professors maintained outside consulting relationships?

What restrictions applied to private financial records donated for teaching?

Which areas of the library required sponsorship rather than simple status?

Most answers matched what I already knew.

The discrepancies mattered more.

In return, the professors asked about me.

How I had entered commercial analysis.

Why procurement and logistical networks.

Why financial records.

And, eventually, why a Pulse Of Eternity Aspirant had spent enough time on economics to receive this invitation.

That one required no preparation.

"My Essence overdevelopment disorder prevents sustained Essence development, so I needed productive uses for the periods when further [Cultivation] was unsafe."

Professor Velthea's expression shifted.

"You discuss that remarkably casually."

"I've had years to be annoyed by it."

"And economics became the solution?"

"One solution. I also accumulated social relationships, developed my [Faith], studied Civilization, read excessively, and did whatever else I considered potentially useful without worsening the disorder."

Melisandre tilted her head slightly.

"How much idle time did that leave you?"

"Enough to accidentally become economically useful."

That earned the reaction I wanted.

Humor.

But also interest.

Because it was true.

By the time we reached the room reserved for the final lecture review, I had already learned several things unavailable in public records.

Good visit.

Everything after that was additional profit.

◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇

The practical review took less than an hour.

I presented abbreviated sections of my lecture while the professors interrupted whenever something warranted attention.

Professor Hirad pointed out that one example depended on procurement information ordinary investors would not possess.

I added the distinction.

Professor Velthea objected to a sentence implying that youth itself favored long-horizon decision-making.

"My age gives me a long potential horizon," I clarified. "It doesn't give me the [Comprehension] required to evaluate one."

"Exactly."

I changed the sentence.

Professor Melisandre wanted the section on youthful social advantages to explicitly distinguish Fairy Court institutions from opportunities broadly available to young people of every species.

Also correct.

I changed that too.

A few more adjustments followed.

Then...

Nothing.

No fundamental mistake.

No assumption so embarrassingly defective that someone needed to save the Academy from placing me in front of its students.

Professor Saelin eventually set his notes aside.

"I think that's enough."

"Already?"

"You sound disappointed."

"I expected more corrections."

"You prepared thoroughly. Most of what's left isn't about whether your material is correct."

"What is it about?"

"Teaching."

I acted a perfectly engineered reaction of enlightenment upon hearing that, causing him to continue with a faint, nearly smug smile.

"You'll have to learn that part when there are students in front of you, though."

◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇

The amphitheater booked for my optional lecture could comfortably seat several hundred giant-sized Entities.

Which meant it could contain an absurd number of me.

Someone had already adapted the central speaking area with a small elevated platform positioned beside the main presentation display rather than directly beneath it.

An [Ether] device sat near the edge.

Voice amplification.

Necessary.

I could have [Will]ed my voice across the room, but that would have been slightly ridiculous.

Using a developed Aspect because the architecture had been designed for people many times my size, when a device solved the exact problem, would have accomplished nothing except wasting Essence development quota.

I tested it.

"Testing."

My voice emerged throughout the amphitheater at a comfortable volume.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Good.

The lecture wasn't scheduled to begin for nearly an hour.

Nevertheless, students began arriving half an hour early.

Also good.

The first group contained four.

Two recognized me immediately.

One tried very hard not to stare.

The fourth simply walked down toward the platform.

"Are you the lecturer?"

"Unless Esme hired another fairy who looks like me and is also named Solaena for today."

He laughed.

Then introduced himself.

Third-stage student.

Investment analysis.

I asked why he had arrived early.

"Faculty wouldn't tell us who the lecturer was."

"So curiosity."

"Mostly."

"An excellent basis for academic decision-making."

That brought another laugh.

Then another student joined us.

Then three more.

I didn't retreat toward the professors.

Why would I?

This was more useful.

I asked what they studied.

What they expected from the lecture.

What rumors had already circulated.

That last question proved particularly worthwhile.

Apparently, I was...

The heir of a major Fairy Court family.

A commercial prodigy privately educated by several wealthy investors.

A Pulse-sponsored experiment in accelerated education.

And, according to one especially ambitious theory, the concealed daughter of some major Everwell Prime financial figure whose identity the Academy had agreed to hide.

I liked that one.

Then more fairies arrived.

Three together at first.

All from lineages [Guided] recognized.

They hadn't even finished landing when nearby students began questioning them.

One gestured subtly toward me.

The fairies looked.

Then looked again.

No recognition.

Another student asked whether perhaps one of their families knew mine.

Another denial.

I had to suppress a smile.

Several of those students had probably spent most of their lives assuming unfamiliar fairies in expensive clothing could eventually be placed somewhere within the enormous web of Court families.

Then there was me.

One of the three approached a few minutes later.

Golden-brown wings.

Immaculate Academy clothing.

A family name I had encountered repeatedly in Court commercial filings.

She introduced herself.

I reciprocated.

"Solaena."

"No family name?"

"None that I know of."

Her expression changed only slightly.

Still changed.

"You're not from Everwell Prime?"

"Not originally."

"Which Court branch?"

"None."

That produced a more visible reaction.

"I grew up in the Red Sand Sector."

"You're serious?"

"Usually."

The fairy beside her laughed.

The first recovered quickly.

"Then how did you end up lecturing here?"

"That's what the lecture is for."

Apparently, that answer satisfied her enough to stay.

Her specialization concerned institutional capital management.

The second fairy studied intergenerational wealth structures.

The third mostly listened until I mentioned procurement, then corrected an assumption I made about how one old Court family divided supplier ownership across generations.

I stored this [Knowledge] away.

Someone else joined us.

Then another.

The conversation expanded naturally.

I did not ask for contact information.

Too early.

Too obvious.

I remembered their names instead.

Their fields.

Their families, where relevant.

Which professors they referenced.

Which subjects made them animated enough to start speaking faster.

If any relationship deserved continuation...

There would be time.

Around us, the amphitheater steadily filled.

Not evenly.

Groups left empty seats between themselves and strangers.

Several upper rows filled before lower ones.

One side remained sparse because a large-bodied species had occupied part of the easiest access route, and smaller students preferred not to squeeze past.

Some students sat near friends.

Others near people from the same specialization.

A few positioned themselves where they could leave easily.

Nothing perfectly orderly.

Just people arranging themselves according to hundreds of small preferences.

By the time the scheduled start approached, the room felt full despite many seats remaining empty.

The professors moved into place.

Conversations quieted.

I flew onto the lecturer's platform.

Activated the amplification device.

Then looked across several hundred students who had come to hear a six-year-old fairy discuss how she had become economically useful.

Hmm.

I smiled.

"Greetings to you all, students. My name is Solaena."

I waited for the room to settle completely.

"I'm six years old by the conventional measure. Seven if you count from conception, which I do because discarding several perfectly usable months I spent inside my mother's womb seems like poor accounting."

The first laughs came quickly.

"I'm also, depending on which rumor reached you first, apparently the heir of an influential Fairy Court lineage, privately sponsored by some unknown financial magnate, or some manner of commercial prodigy."

More laughter.

"For clarification, I have no known family, no inheritance, and no hidden financial patron."

That quieted them.

"My unfair advantages are much stranger."

Now they listened.

"My [Purpose] today isn't to convince you that I understand finance better than Esme Academy does."

Several professors looked amused.

"That would be a very ambitious first lecture for a first-time guest lecturer."

A little more laughter.

"What I can offer is something narrower. I acquired useful practical competence in several economic fields far faster than would normally be expected from someone my age, despite beginning with little capital, almost no local network, severe gaps in my [Knowledge] of Everwell Prime, and approximately enough practical experience to reach confidently incorrect conclusions."

The [Ether] board behind me changed.

One of my earliest analyses appeared.

I had selected it deliberately.

"There."

I highlighted an assumption.

"Wrong."

Another.

"Also wrong."

A third.

"Technically correct, but almost entirely for reasons I hadn't identified."

The room laughed again.

"That analysis earned me credits."

The laughter faded.

"Which is precisely why success alone makes a terrible teacher."

Attention sharpened.

Much better.

I moved on.

Youth first.

Its actual advantages.

Not the flattering ones.

I possessed fewer established commitments.

Less sunk cost.

Less reputation to protect.

Small financial failures cost me quantities of credits that mattered little in absolute terms while giving me experience whose value could remain relevant for decades.

My age also changed how people treated me.

Especially fairies.

That immediately drew attention from the fairy students.

"The Fairy Court maintains extensive structures around young fairies. Education. Protection. Mentorship. Introductions. Access. Older fairies willing to entertain questions from promising children that they might refuse from unknown adults."

Professor Melisandre looked suspiciously pleased.

"I exploited that."

Several fairies laughed.

"I still do."

More followed.

"This advantage isn't universal. It isn't even equally available to every fairy. Pretending otherwise would make the rest of this lecture considerably less accurate."

Then came my larger advantage.

[Guided].

I did not explain the entirety of my Origin Aspect.

There was no reason to.

"My Origin Aspect is exceptionally effective at retaining experience and bringing relevant [Knowledge] back into use when sufficiently similar circumstances arise."

The display changed again.

Newspapers.

Financial statements.

Procurement histories.

Transport changes.

Contracts.

Notes.

"It does not make me correct."

Next slide.

Failures.

"It makes being corrected unusually valuable."

That line landed better than I expected.

So I continued from there.

A family rivalry I had failed to account for.

A business owner preserving inefficient operations because decades of loyalty mattered more than profit.

An Entity accepting years of losses because their planning horizon exceeded my entire lived lifetime.

Demand changing because of information I didn't possess.

A prediction reaching the correct result through defective reasoning.

A recommendation someone ignored—and was right to ignore.

Each mistake.

What had caused it.

What corrected it.

Where the correction later became useful.

The important part wasn't that I failed.

Everyone did.

The important part was that once I properly understood a failure, [Guided] made repeating it progressively more difficult.

"But my Origin Aspect still requires experience to work with."

That brought me to the portion much more applicable to everyone else.

Exposure.

I had deliberately sought circumstances capable of proving me wrong.

Large organizations had little reason to provide those circumstances.

They possessed analysts.

Departments.

Advisers.

Procedures.

Reputations.

A random six-year-old fairy arriving with questions did not solve a problem they presently had.

Small and struggling organizations, on the other hand...

Possessed problems.

The display shifted to simplified, anonymized examples.

A freight intermediary.

A specialist laboratory supplier.

A commercial information service.

Organizations willing to show me things because I had already demonstrated enough potential value for the exchange to benefit both sides.

"They gave me records I couldn't otherwise access. Explained decisions I misunderstood. Let me observe problems before their consequences became forgotten historical facts. Sometimes they even gave me problems whose answers they already knew simply to see whether I could reach them."

I paused.

"In return, I gave them everything I could connect."

Public records.

Old disputes.

Historical comparisons.

Everwell Realm Rift traffic.

Supplier behavior.

Procurement changes.

Financial reports.

Information from fields that appeared unrelated until one particular circumstance made them relevant.

[Knowledge].

Then [Comprehension].

Then repeated application.

Then [Mastery].

Not cleanly.

Not linearly.

But steadily.

"My advantage wasn't that I possessed more experience."

I looked across the amphitheater.

"I very obviously didn't."

A few smiles.

"It was that I treated acquiring experience as an active process instead of something I expected time to eventually provide."

Silence.

Better than laughter.

"I asked."

"Tested."

"Failed."

"Corrected."

"Repeated."

"And whenever I lacked access to the next problem capable of teaching me something..."

The display changed to a simplified relationship map.

"...I built relationships until someone opened another door."

That led naturally into the social side.

One merchant circle produced records.

The records improved my competence.

Competence made me useful to small organizations.

Those organizations exposed me to better problems.

Better problems gave me better [Knowledge].

Better [Knowledge] made more valuable conversations possible.

Those conversations produced introductions.

The introductions produced access.

Eventually...

Trying to decide where my economic development ended and my social development began became increasingly pointless.

Each supported the other.

"I spent an absurd amount of time doing this."

Someone laughed.

"I'm serious."

More laughter.

"I remain awake for approximately eight days at a time."

That produced a considerably larger reaction.

"I don't recommend copying me."

Several fairy students looked particularly entertained.

"My Path made that appropriate for me. Yours probably don't."

One professor visibly approved.

Good.

"My Origin Aspect preserved what I learned. My [Will] kept me applying it. My [Ambition] ensured I rarely considered the current result sufficient. None of those removed the need to actually spend the time."

That was where I ended.

Not on some grand conclusion.

On the simplest one.

"Being young gave me advantages."

The first analysis returned to the display.

Then one of my recent ones appeared beside it.

"But youth also meant ignorance."

The contrast was sufficient.

"The useful part was never pretending otherwise."

I deactivated the presentation.

"So if you remember one thing from this lecture..."

Pause.

"Remember that I was wrong repeatedly."

A few laughs.

"And if you remember two..."

I smiled.

"Remember that I kept the corrections."

The response throughout the amphitheater was considerably louder than I expected.

Interesting.

Questions began immediately.

Professor Saelin barely needed to invite them.

A student near the front received the first opportunity.

"What are you actually trying to become?"

Easy.

"More capable."

Laughter.

I waited.

"If you mean professionally, I haven't selected an economic profession. Economics is presently one part of a much broader [Foundation] I'm building."

"For what?"

"My Path."

That drew more attention than the original answer.

Another student picked up the obvious question.

"What does economics contribute to your Path if you don't intend to make it your profession?"

Better.

"Credits. Access. [Knowledge]. Relationships. Practical experience dealing with decisions made by people other than me. It improves my circumstances without needing to become the center of my existence."

"And that's worth this much time?"

"My Essence disorder regularly prevents me from safely spending that time on Essence development."

I smiled faintly.

"I dislike wasting it."

Several people laughed.

I wasn't joking.

The golden-brown-winged fairy I had spoken with earlier received the next question.

"You mentioned your [Ambition]. What exactly are you ambitious for?"

"To see how far my Path can go."

She waited.

Apparently expecting more.

"That's it?"

"That's a very large 'it'."

She smiled and settled back.

Another student asked where I intended to go next.

"Esme Academy's library, [Ideal]ly."

That produced enough laughter that I waited before continuing.

"If you mean over the longer term, I don't know."

That answer surprised more people.

"I possess objectives. I don't possess a complete itinerary for the next century. If my current objectives require remaining in Everwell Prime, I remain. If something better exists elsewhere, I leave. Planning is useful. Pretending future [Knowledge] cannot change a plan isn't."

Professor Velthea gave me a slight nod.

Then came the inevitable question.

"How many credits have you actually made?"

"Enough that losses no longer need to be treated exclusively as educational expenses."

"Can you give us a real number?"

I considered.

"Relative to what I began with, a lot. Relative to the capital routinely managed by people Esme Academy trains..."

I looked around.

"Embarrassingly little. In the range of tens of thousands of tied-up capital."

That satisfied the room better than a precise figure probably would have.

Another student followed naturally.

"You said you have no known family. Did you receive financial support from anyone when you started?"

"No familial support."

"Other support?"

"Considerable."

That distinction mattered too much to leave vague.

"Institutions sheltered and educated me at different points. Individuals taught me. The Faith Of The Aspects provided opportunities. The Pulse Of Eternity gave me access to [Knowledge] I wouldn't otherwise possess. People introduced me to other people. Some relationships opened doors I couldn't have opened alone."

I paused.

"If you're asking whether I inherited credits, a company, or a commercial network, no."

"And if we ask whether you did everything yourself?"

"Also no."

Good question.

Someone farther up asked my exact age.

"Six since birth."

A few people were already smiling.

"Seven since conception."

"Why do you count conception?"

"Because I was conscious."

That quieted the room more abruptly than expected.

A moment later, I added...

"For your information, I only recently exited the period generously called infantile amnesia in fairies."

The tension broke.

"Fortunately, my Origin Aspect helped prevent most of the amnesia portion. Though if you asked me anything precise about when I was one, I fear you would be disappointed by my recollection ability."

Now they laughed properly.

The questions became increasingly technical afterward.

Much better.

One student challenged my procurement example.

"If the listed transport expenditure increased only after the margin decline began, why did you treat transport as causal instead of reactive?"

"Because listed expenditure wasn't the first transport-related change."

I reopened the timeline.

"Route composition changed earlier. The accounting category lagged because the first consequence appeared through contract restructuring instead of direct transport expenditure."

"So you already had the private contracts?"

"No."

He paused.

"Then how did you know?"

"I didn't."

I enlarged the timeline.

"I suspected. That distinction matters. Distinctions matter."

He nodded almost immediately.

"I acquired private access afterward. The contracts confirmed the mechanism."

Another asked whether the same approach could predict acquisition pressure.

"Sometimes."

"What makes it fail?"

"When the actors know they're being modeled. When their objectives differ from the ones your model assumes. When private information dominates the decision. When someone behaves in a way you consider economically irrational for reasons they consider perfectly rational."

The student smiled.

"So, often."

"Welcome to the core problem of dealing with fellow sapient Entities. It would be so much easier if we were battling it out financially with plants, wouldn't it?"

That earned one of the louder laughs of the day.

Professor Hirad looked far too pleased.

Then another fairy asked how I evaluated relationships whose economic benefit couldn't be quantified.

"I don't force every relationship into credits."

"What do you use instead?"

"Whatever it actually provides. Access. Information. Introductions. Trust. Reputation. Future options. Sometimes nothing measurable yet."

"And you maintain those anyway?"

"If their expected future value justifies the time."

Several nearby students exchanged glances.

I noticed.

Interesting.

Then someone from the upper rows called down.

"Do you calculate the expected value of every conversation?"

The amphitheater laughed before I answered.

Apparently, Edmundo's criticism had somehow reached conceptual immortality without anyone here knowing its source.

"No."

Pause.

"Not anymore."

The laughter grew louder.

"I used to make it too obvious."

Professor Melisandre covered her mouth.

The student looked delighted.

"What changed?"

"Someone explained that people generally prefer not noticing the exact moment you've decided another conversation is more useful."

That required another pause for laughter.

"Was he right?"

"Unfortunately."

Useful reaction.

I stored it.

The questions continued.

Could [Guided] replace specialized training?

No.

Did I intend to enroll?

Also no.

Did Esme Academy's curriculum interest me?

Parts of it, extensively.

Could my methods be reproduced without my Origin Aspect?

Some.

Not all.

Had my failures ever cost someone enough that I reconsidered intervening?

Yes.

Did that stop me?

No.

It changed how much confidence I expressed, what responsibilities I accepted, and which consequences I considered appropriate to risk.

One question became another.

Students challenged my answers.

Professors occasionally added context.

I corrected one response after Professor Velthea supplied a factor I had neglected.

That appeared to improve the room's opinion of me rather than diminish it.

Good.

Eventually, the administrator ended the formal questioning before it consumed the rest of the day.

That only changed its form.

Students stood.

Groups reorganized.

Some departed.

Others descended toward the lecturer's platform.

And among the first to reach me...

Fairies.

Of course.

Not all of them.

But enough.

The golden-brown-winged fairy from before landed near me with two others.

"You really have no Court lineage?"

"None that anyone has successfully found. If Serafae-born fairies even have one."

"My family would consider that nearly impossible."

"Your family has spent several centuries making certain you never have that problem."

She considered the answer.

Then smiled.

"Fair."

The fairy studying intergenerational wealth joined us.

"You mentioned maintaining relationships without measurable present returns."

"Yes."

"My grandmother would probably like you."

"Does she possess a private archive?"

The question escaped before [Guided] could construct anything more elegant.

Silence.

Then all three laughed.

"She does, actually."

Perfect.

"I would probably like your grandmother too."

That only made them laugh again.

Another fairy approached.

Then another.

The family names accumulated.

One had a parent working in Court investment administration.

Another's relative handled major estates.

One belonged to a family office with interests in Realm-derived resources.

Another had an older sibling already working inside an organization I had researched.

Not promises.

Not yet access.

Connections.

Potential ones.

Threads.

I didn't pull.

That would have been crude.

I simply spoke with them.

Answered questions.

Asked my own.

Remembered.

Exactly as I had done months earlier when Edmundo's mercantile circle still represented one of the most economically valuable groups willing to entertain my curiosity and sustained presence.

The method had barely changed.

The circles had.

Professor Saelin eventually interrupted long enough to tell me the faculty's preliminary decision was positive.

I would receive honorary guest status.

Not unrestricted access.

Naturally.

Portions of the Academy library would become available to me.

Selected lectures could be attended without enrollment.

Faculty exchanges could be arranged individually.

Additional privileges could follow if the relationship proved worthwhile for both sides.

Excellent.

I thanked him.

Then returned my attention to the students.

Because when Orris first presented this opportunity, Esme Academy's library had been the obvious prize.

Decades of specialized material.

Research.

Case studies.

Expert commentary.

Records.

Enough [Knowledge] to feed [Guided] until portions of my economic [Comprehension] stopped appearing quite so juvenile.

I still intended to exploit that thoroughly.

But looking across the amphitheater now...

The library was only one part of Esme Academy.

Hundreds of students surrounded it.

Future analysts.

Future advisers.

Future fund managers.

Children of influential families.

Fairies already embedded in Court networks I had previously required multiple introductions merely to approach.

Students who would eventually scatter into organizations throughout Everwell Prime.

Professors whose networks already reached those organizations.

Alumni.

Recruiters.

Families.

And from now on...

Whenever I returned to use Esme Academy's library, I would simply happen to be here too.

Studying.

Attending selected lectures.

Speaking with professors.

Encountering students.

Again.

And again.

Coincidentally.

I smiled at the next fairy who introduced herself.

What a useful Academy.