Dean Alister's office was surprisingly simple, but don't be mistaken, even in its simplicity, it screamed of opulence. In his business, it was practically a requirement; he was a representative of the academy itself. So his office represented the status of the academy as well, as the fact that the majority of parents were from the high aristocracy. Dean Alister was an older gentleman; he had salt-and-pepper short hair. One of his most defining features was his immaculate, curved mustache. His build was extremely muscular, but instead of coming off as a brute, he had the presence of a powerful intellectual. The monocle over his right eye only added to his look. The office itself was filled with tables and chairs made only from the most exquisite of African blackwood, and silver adorning the paintings.
Dean Alister was busy smoking from his calabash pipe while reading a newspaper, his hazel eyes traveling across the page. Noticing me enter, he quickly folded his newspaper and motioned for me to take a seat. "So tell me, to whom do I owe the pleasure of the visit?"His voice was calm, but his hawk-like eyes trailed across my mask in silent observation.
"Come now, Dean. We both know your information network already figured that out." I dismissed his question, not really in the mood for these games. Dean Alister found my words amusing as he released a stiff laugh.
"You have changed Zeon. I still remember when you were just a snot-nosed brat. But now, I do not even know what to say. I heard what happened to you, and if you don't mind, I am very curious to see." Although he did not state exactly what he wanted to see, the implication was quite obvious. His eyes had never left my mask.
"That is wholly unnecessary, Dean. I am here to speak business, not satiate your curiosity." I tried to guide the conversation back on topic. Dean Alister just remained quiet, not saying a single word. The seconds of silence stretched to an entire minute before I finally gave in to his demand. A small pulse of mana into the mask caused the magic holding it in place to fade, allowing me to remove the mask. The second that I did, the stench of rot and decay began emanating through the room. It is not a literal smell; I was basically odorless with the mask on. Yet the second people could see my face, the smell of death permeated the air. I could control it, of course, by limiting the amount of mana that coursed through me, but it helped with intimidation, so I saw no reason to do so.
His eyes studied my face diligently. "Fascinating, I had heard the reports from the doctors, but seeing it in person is just…" There was no fear in his eyes, just barely concealed curiosity. I had expected this outcome; the Dean was obsessed with knowledge.
"Let's get back on topic now, Dean," I said while putting the mask back on. An invisible weight lifted from my shoulders once the mask was back on my face.
"Ah, yes, am I correct to assume you are here to discuss the upcoming Nationals?" My nod confirmed his question, so he continued speaking. "While you were in the coma, the Nationals have been postponed due to the oncoming horde." I was not in the least surprised by his words; hordes like these were no joke. Millions could die if they were not vanquished in time.
"What news is there regarding the border defenses. The last I heard, it was only a suspicion, but it looks like that is no longer the case." Our entire conversation thus far was like a deadly dance of intellect. Every word spoken, resembling a thrust of a blade, testing one another's capabilities as it continued. This was hardly my first battle of words with the Dean, but it was the first time I could confidently say I stood opposite him as an equal.
"The news is grim. Prince Walong Chen does not even consider it a threat. He has already forgotten the last time those beasts marched against us, and forgotten how many we lost." The Dean's face gained a dark intensity as he thought back to that day seven years ago. He fought alongside my parent before their fall; many died that day. "He spends his days enjoying the company of his harem, and his nights attending banquets, the fool." The sheer venom with which he spoke was surprising. Alister was a man of calm composure. To see him this riled up was… Shocking.
"Troubling news indeed. If the military will not offer its assistance, the responsibility will fall on our shoulders. This is quite the burden to bear, even if all the South African nobles stood together in our defense. Which is another matter entirely; it will still not be enough." Dean Alistar had not understated when he said the news was grim. South Africa had a population of 60 million, so evacuation was all but impossible. We would either have to fight with a small chance of survival or die like dogs in our attempt to retreat. "You have given me much to think about, Dean, but before I leave, I have one more favor to ask. I would like to have a private conversation with Wu Qu if possible."
Dean Alister was still lost in thought, but he agreed with my request nonetheless.
—-
Mr Yamoshida was busy with his lecture discussing the start of the war against the Ottoman Empire when the bell rang signaling the start of break. I had already packed my bags and was about to leave when mr Yamoshida called out to me. "Not you, Wu. I am going to have to ask you to stay." Confusion was the only way to explain what I felt at that moment. Ever since I came to this backwater country 2 months ago, I have been a model student. So I could not even come up with a reason as to why he wanted me to stay.
He motioned for me to take a seat, so I complied. I was just about to ask for a reason when the classroom door opened. A tall man wearing a navy blue two-piece suit walked in. His brown dreadlocks were tied in a ponytail, but what drew the most attention was the marble mask on his face. Wu instantly became serious; he could feel the power emanating from this man, and it made him uneasy. He turned to mr Yamoshida, "Thank you for the assistance, you may go." His voice was slightly muffled from the mask, but the melodic voice was unmissable, as well as the slight inhumanness of it all.
After mr Yamoshida left, the stranger's eyes fell directly onto me. I could not see his eyes through the mask. But I could feel the weight of his attention.
"We need to talk, Wu," the stranger spoke before taking a seat in front of me.
—-
"We need to talk, Wu," I said while taking a seat across from him. His eyes showed his concern, but the slight twitch in his muscles showed he was ready for battle at any sign of aggression.
His eyes measured me as we sat in silence. "In polite society, one must introduce oneself when one wishes to speak with someone." He spoke with skepticism as he continued to observe.
"Ah, my apologies. I am slightly out of practice. The name is Zeon, Zeon Li Whither." I said without a hint of emotion, only serving to make my voice sound monstrous.
His eyes widened for a second after my announcement. "Impossible, Zeon is a weakling, something you clearly are not." He spoke with indignation.
A sigh escaped my lips. "Look, we can sit here all day debating those words, but that is not why I am here. Let us bury the hatchet, let bygones be bygones." The weight of the previous conversation was still heavy on my shoulders, so I wanted to finish this quickly.
He looked confused again, with a mixture of disbelief. "Now I know you are not Zeon. That arrogant bastard would never come here to make peace." Wu nearly spat on the ground after speaking those words.
"I agree with you, if this had been three weeks ago, I would never have come here. But the situation has changed, I have changed." I began to take off my mask slowly. "I died, Wu, and when a man is confronted with his own mortality, it is rather hard not to change," I spoke with finality. His face turned from shock to something that pissed me off more than anything else: pity. "For the past two weeks, I have been comatose, on the edge between life and death. Imagine my surprise when I wake up only to find out that you have been leading a smear campaign against my people." I let the words hang in the air for a second as I met his eyes. "Out of respect for your father, I want to end this here and now. Prince Wu Xiang, seventh son of the emperor. You have been used. Did Baron Liam promise you revenge? Was that it? You let your temper get the best of you yet again. Isn't that why you were banished in the first place?"
The more I spoke, the more in thought Wu became, but on that note, I left. Not even giving him a chance to reply, I made my way out of the academy. That was one part complete; now on to the big fish who had become a thorn in my side.