Principal: In 388 B.C., standing in the garden paths of the Athens, there was an academia of philosophers.
Principal: Thirty-six human ideologists present that day were thinking about the ever-present old question, just as you are ...
Principal: What passes knowledge? What maintains the world's balance?
Principal: Students, don't forget the exhortation from the philosophers.
All Students: Heritage, honor, rationality, responsibility!
The principal nods. He holds out his hands like a conductor.
Principal: This will be your lifelong pursuit.
All Students: May the peace be with us. May the peace be with mankind!
He's pleased with the responses.
Principal: Last year, 45% of our graduates were chosen to work in the St. Pavlov Foundation headquarters. A particular excellent student has even been accepted by the House of Integratus.
Principal: The rest of the children, too, have become front-line investigators, staffs of Foundation office in other countries, or professional soldiers, dedicating themselves to the magnificent cause of mankind.
Principal: For thousands of years, we have taken in countless young arcanists from workhouses and foundling hospitals, and have raised them to be outstanding students and models in every industry.
Principal: Soon, you will also be the backbone in preserving world order, and ...
Principal: ... Hmm?
There is one student standing out in the neat line of students.
She is in the wrong line, or say, she is never in any lines.
Sandwiched in between two neat lines, she looks like a pipe organ stop that has fallen out of place.
Principal: Do you have any questions, Vertin?
Vertin: No.
Principal: Then why aren't you standing in the line?
Vertin: I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you clearly since your speech was so wonderful.
The principal watches Vertin walking quietly back to the line.
Principal: Vertin, you are the youngest child we've ever taken in. You were just a month old when you came to the school.
Principal: And by now, you've spent almost 12 years in here.
Principal: I'd like to hear your thoughts since you are the most unique child in the school. Whatever the question or opinion is, I will respond with an answer.
She stops.
Vertin: ... Any ... question?
Principal: Of course, as you wish.
Vertin: ...
Vertin: What is the "Storm," sir?
*a piercing sound*
Vertin: May I ask ... how much further do we have to go?
Instructor: What?
Vertin: Till we get to the guardhouse ...
Instructor: We're almost there. Don't worry.
Vertin: Ok.
Instructor: As your punishment, no dinner will be served tonight. You will stay here until tomorrow ... someone picks you up at noon.
Vertin: Ok.
Instructor: I won't ask you how you knew "that word." But you have to promise that you won't mention it again.
Vertin: I promise.
Instructor: Alright, here we are.
Instructor: This is not some friendly place. The arcane skills I taught you before may help.
Instructor: ... I hope you have paid close attention in that class.
The instructor gently pushs her back.
Instructor: Get inside. Think carefully, or next time it won't be just confinement.
A damp, muddy room.
Water keeps dropping onto the ground intermittently.
The ground is covered by old footprints in disarray.
Buzz, buzz.
Something is wiggling in the dark.
Vertin: This is ...
Vertin: The Shamir worm?!
Under the dim light, these worms, less than two inches, are crawling across the ground towards here.
Vertin: So cool.
Vertin: It's said that the Shamirs are marvelous creatures, even King Solomon searched for them for years. They are incredible engravers—more skilled than the greatest craftsman among human. They can engrave on leaves, metal, and gemstones, build a sacred temple, or destroy a giant vessel.
Vertin: But now ... they have become tools for punishing naughty kids.
A round Shamir firstly crawls up her calf, interrupting her thoughts. It starts to do its work.
Vertin: Urgh ...! It hurts.
Vertin: There are at least a few hundred Shamirs here ... and they are all moving towards me.
Vertin: The instructor did teach two incantations to repel insects, but Shamirs are not any ordinary worms. They are, in fact, a kind of advanced critter. The elementary arcane skills won't work on them ...
Vertin: Let alone there are no signs of my arcanum abilities up till now ... Maybe, I'm not an arcanist at all ...
The second Shamir has successfully landed on the moon! They are hardworking twins.
Vertin: Ouch ...! Please don't bite me two times in a row!
Vertin: No, stop, I have to focus now. There must be a way I can think of.
Vertin: Water keeps dripping down from the side of the ceiling near the window. But, it hasn't rained for days.
Vertin: Here is a thin layer of mud on the ground. Judging from its volume, it's not likely to be brought in by other children who were once here for confinement.
Vertin: The dripping water has made the ground uneven. For these tiny worms, these descending areas are like impassable gulfs.
Vertin: ... Could the ground be left like this so as to slow down the worms and give us the time to cast incantations?
Vertin: But why would they gather around my feet ...?
Vertin: Hmm ... This is ...
It is not mud on the ground. The floor is covered by a heap of grains and corns, which take up one square foot of the room.
Under such dim lights, one can hardly realize that they are standing on a pile of mushy oat brans and corns.
Vertin: Is this their food?
Vertin: Turns out their route has been planned already.
A yellow wool blanket lies in the other corner of the room. No Shamirs have yet approached there.
Vertin: Oh, so that's the case ...
Vertin: The legend says that the way to store Shamir worms is to wrap them in wool and store them in a container made of lead,
Vertin: which means the wall of this room should be made of ...
Picks up the wool blanket and wipes it on the wall. An off-white mark appears on the blanket.
Vertin: It's alloy. Quickly forming a film on the surface—this has to be Lead(II) carbonate.
Vertin: This is poisonous to them ...
Vertin: Well, to me, as well.
This is when a handkerchief comes in handy. It would make a good mask and glove.
Vertin: I have everything I need. Grains to lure them and wools to drive them away.
Vertin: The solutions are more than I expected.
Vertin: Alright, let's move! Expel them to the corner.