Chapter 2: The Name of the Most Important Thing in the World
“SO that was Angel Tears…”
Autumn leaves glittered like garnet under the sunlight. The water fountain in the front quad sprayed sparkling crystals of light into the air as if competing with the leaves. Mia muttered absently to herself, staring out the window at the glorious afternoon that had been blessed with mild late-autumn weather.
She was thinking about the incident that had taken place during the entrance ceremony.
The student who went on a slasher rampage was afflicted with a disease known as Angel Tears. The bizarre disease had first been recorded about a hundred years ago and it was only found in mages. Mia neither knew any mages nor lived around them, so it’d been her first time witnessing someone suffering from the symptoms of Angel Tears. It made the magic within the mage’s body swell beyond their control until they were driven to insanity. In and of itself, Angel Tears wasn’t life-threatening, but it was a terrifying disease where sheer madness drove the person to self-mutilation or resulted in other injuries due to their lack of self-awareness.
Fortunately, they had developed a medicine to assist with it, and the symptoms could be restrained if the afflicted mage was brought to a royal clinic for treatment. The disease was at fault—not the person. The faculty had instructed the students to warmly welcome the male student back into their ranks when he returned to the Academy.
The disease is at fault and not the person, huh? They’re right…that’s how it should be. Disgust roiled inside Mia; the memories of the awful treatment her mom had received flickered through her mind. Another side of her, one she took care to keep locked up inside, mockingly pointed out: Then Mom’s not at fault either, is she?
Before she became captive to the anger she had long since buried, Mia lifted her face, looking about the room to distract from her thoughts. In the classroom that had exactly the number of seats as students, stood one empty seat. It had gone unfilled for so long that she wondered if termites would get to it first. Staring at the forever lonely, vacant seat, she sighed.
In the month since the entrance ceremony, one student in her year continued to miss class due to shock from the incident.
Are they all right? You have to be even more careful with wounds of the heart than the body… Mia snapped out of her reverie when her ears picked up on the explanation given at the front of the class.
“…As such, you’ll need to submit your Graduation Thesis Proposal before the Winter Solstice Celebration, and then you’ll be required to submit your Grand Plan as a team before the Summer Solstice Celebration. Prepare yourselves for the extra workload.”
Mia had zoned out and missed part of the explanation. She quickly jotted down what she heard. But she didn’t know what to write for the first half she’d failed to listen to. She considered asking someone, but immediately tossed the idea out the window.
A single glance about filled her view with a sea of purple ties—only unfamiliar law students sat around her.
The Academy was split into departments, but that didn’t mean there were no combined courses. The Royal Academy ran on a credit system, with students creating their own curriculum from their required courses, right from year one all the way through year six. First and second year students were required to take general education courses from the General Education Department so that they would be prepared to go out in to the world after graduation. General education courses spanned many topics, from foreign languages to world history, to the history of their own Isea Kingdom. The Graduation Thesis Guidance Course was among those required courses, and students from every department took it together.
Talking about the Graduation Thesis as soon as we start school? Aren’t they getting ahead of themselves? is what Mia thought, but once students reached their third year at the Royal Academy, they were assigned to research laboratories and seminars where they would conduct research on the topic they had picked, which they were supposed to refine in their first two years. From there, they would begin writing their thesis.
Thesis particulars varied with each department, but everyone was in the clear as long as they submitted a Graduation Thesis by the time they graduated. Mia felt more at ease when she heard that, but it still wasn’t as easy as it had sounded at first. The quality of the thesis decided the individual’s future. She couldn’t take her time to relax after hearing about how pharmacology students with excellent theses could secure research positions at facilities as early as year four. If she cut corners, there might not be a job waiting for her, even after six years.
Hoping to fill in the gaps of whatever else her professor had said while she had been daydreaming, Mia read through the guidance packet. The pages stated that students would spend their first year getting to know the research topic for each seminar, then choose which research group to join in their second year. It was standard for the student to decide on their thesis topic together with their seminar’s professor before conducting research from their third year on.
But there were exceptions to the rule. Students were given the opportunity to submit a proposal for their Grand Plan by the end of their first year if they came up with their own topic. If it was considered creative and fascinating enough, they would be granted permission to turn that into their Graduation Thesis topic, in addition to receiving a special research stipend that freed them from being locked to a professor’s set topic.
Just what I wanted! …But hang on, you can only apply for the research stipend once every two years? Does that mean it’s not offered next year? …Let’s see, research stipend applicants need to put their Grand Plan together and submit it by the end of the term to—
As Mia concentrated on underlining the key points in the guidance packet, she overheard the law students beside her quietly grumbling, “Writing the Grand Plan for our Graduation Thesis sounds like a total pain…”
“Do law students like us even need to worry about it? We’re goin’ into politics and all that jazz. Spending our time debatin’ stuff is gonna serve us way better than slogging away at some stupid thesis paper.”
Is it really as simple as that? Mia casually reflected as she listened to them.
A booming voice interrupted their private little chat, “You’re welcome to talk and debate your time away. How you spend your time won’t affect the rest of us.”
Professor Rueger flashed a wicked smirk, and the law students recoiled. Mia cringed too. They had been whispering quietly in the middle of the classroom—Mia clearly noted that the professor of this class had better hearing than a fox.
But the professor’s rebuke presented a chance for asking questions. Mia raised her hand and inquired, “Excuse me, Professor, the guidance papers say students will receive passing marks as long as they turn their papers in, but is it better to assume we won’t receive credit if our Grand Plan is written poorly?”
“Nope. All you gotta do is turn it in. You’ll pass even if you just turn in a blank sheet of paper—as long as you write your name on it. Your plan could be the worst piece of writing in the history of writing and you’ll still get a ‘good’ score. You just won’t be able to do your graduation research on that topic.”
“What do we do for our Graduation Thesis if we receive a passing or a good score on the plan?”
“Those who turn in a Grand Plan with only passing or good marks will be stuck devoting themselves to a research topic dictated by the professor in charge of the seminar they join.”
“Nothin’ worth sweating over then,” the law students approved, relieved by his answer.
But Mia visibly frowned. How is that not something to sweat over?! This makes things more difficult than they should be!
Ultimately, if a student’s Grand Plan didn’t receive the highest grade—Perfect—they wouldn’t be allowed to conduct the research they had gone through the effort of delineating in their Grand Plan. Mia had decided on her research topic since the day she planned to enroll in the Royal Academy. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she had enrolled in Isea Royal Academy for the sole purpose of researching that particular topic.
Basically, we can’t take it easy even as a first year…
Professor Rueger was warning them that the Academy would take independence away from students without motivation. Things were even stricter than Mia had initially thought.
Color leaching from her face, Mia turned her attention back to the guidance packet. Just then, the classroom’s back door rattled open.
“I’m Felix Keyserling. Sorry for being late.”
Mia turned toward the cheerful voice, her eyes rounding. He’s the student from before… So he’s the one who hasn’t come for a whole month?!
Standing in the doorway was the male student she had found crouching in a panic attack at the entrance ceremony. He donned a purple tie, signifying he was part of the law department, but he left it loose and his collar unbuttoned. He seemed to have mastered the casual look with his uniform, looking surprisingly not unfashionable in it, and exuded an air of ease like he was used to attending school. He ran his hand through his unruly golden hair, further messing it up, and brazenly searched for an empty seat, which he laid claim to like he was king of the room.