001. thyone in the courtyard of akadaemia anyder.

“Themis!”

footsteps rush your senses, and a bare hand tugs your hood, freeing a burgeoning lock of hair. gravity drapes it over the current page of your textbook and you freeze. you lift your hand and motion for ambient aether to tuck the hair back into place. then your hand rests over the page and bookmarks the chapter, with your thumb closest to the sentence you last read.

you have to admit you feel frustrated by the interruption. you are always excited when it comes to this textbook’s correspondent class—you are for all your studies, but this one shines in particular—and you were working through a dense analysis on a settlement a millennium older than your own parents. but you know this moment shall be but a droplet in the great river of time, and the wisest option is to savor it. you will have time to keep reading, and the concerns of your fellows come first. with this in mind, you fix your mask through the last gust of wind, glance towards your company’s soul, then look up towards them.

“Thyone,” you start evenly, giving your warmest smile. you were classmates for the majority of your foundational years and partners in many projects. although their passions took them on another course, and you both lack the font of time that marked your youth, you remain in touch even today. “We have not talked in some time. I am happy to see you again.”

“I would be beside myself if you weren’t,” they laugh; “torn apart by the betrayal! But I know you would never forget me. Even with how busy you are these days.”

today, the quadrangle of akadaemia anyder is empty; most in your year flood the bibliotheca, but you prefer the open air and sunlight more. when you find yourself laughing after thyone, the quiet reverb of your voice streams through the air and reaches even idling birds. “Well, I should be ill suited for any career if I were to forget those who stood beside me, no matter how far I walked. Convocation or otherwise. Were you here for any particular motive, or did you merely seek my company?”

“Prescient as ever, our dear Themis. Or is it more proper now to dub you our ‘Emissary?’” thyone laughs again. you shake your head, though your smile does not dwindle. “I am undeserving of that designation yet, Thyone. I would be insulting our present Elidibus to assume elsewise.”

thyone stands up straight, crosses their arms, throws their head back and scoffs. if amaurotine custom was eschewed and your masks and hoods discarded, you would catch more than the frown that decorates their face: perhaps a gust of wind to lift their hair from their face and a smolder about violet eyes. “There goes our dear Themis: always humbler than the rest of us. I can think of none more suited for the title than you, truly.”

“The title or the position?” thyone pushes on. “We both know they’re but one and the same. One needs not witness your trials to see proof of your talents. You are a brilliant student and an even brighter individual; only a miracle could upend your succession.”

would it be a miracle? in subsequent centuries, you will be left wondering if it would be a tragedy or a miracle to abandon your faith in the convocation. then again, you must suppose there is no better word to describe an extraordinary event as that which thyone ideates. there is no divinity in a potential miracle, at most mere misfortune; your succession is reliant on persuasion and a quarter of a saeculum’s worth of work. none of this filters through your hollow throat. you close your eyes and knot your hands, allowing cold winds to speak for you.

“I can only hope so, Thyone. But your credence in me is heartening. I will think of you when the news is delivered, and you shall be one of the first to hear their verdict.”

“You’re too kind, o’ dear Themis. But also, in a myriad ways, too naïve.” thyone pats your head. at this, you shrink away, lifting their hand from the crown of your hood. they pull their hand back immediately and shift away, giving light to text and sight again. “I appreciate the thought, though I’m sure public news will reach me before your own. But know I shall await their judgement nonetheless, as eagerly as I shall of your adjudication when the seat falls to you.”

you respond instantly with that same smile, your head turned in the direction of their voice. all the while you stare at the blooming platanes in the center of the court and the light which filters through lobed leaves. “I shall remember your faith to the end of days. I thank you for it.” you turn fully to search for thyone and find them now seated at your right, where the sleeve of your bookmarked hand forms a barrier. “…Was there another reason you sought me out?”

“Oh, no.” they shake their head. “Now I’ve remained for your company. The bibliotheca is too crowded today, but I knew I would find you here thinking. I knew this would be the better choice.” with a snap in front of their chest, their bag falls into the palm of their hand, and they take out a collection of half-inked paper. “Might we entertain the idea of studying in parallel, one last time?”

you laugh. how clever, how furtively they slip it in. “We may. I daresay your presence will spur me to completing this passage to tell you of it.”

“And I,” they grin, “shall be eager to listen. ‘Tis a welcome reprieve from my concluding studies, simply to hear you talk.”

“Then I shall attempt not to let your hopes down.”

“Themis, Themis. You sell yourself short. When it comes to me, you never will.”

they laugh, and the birds of springtide fly with it. and with their leave, the world carries on.