Praemia Virtutis, Poenae Vitiorum

By the time Head-priestess Naobi returned, it was already dusk. Her grey strands were stuck to her forehead in sweat. She twirled her staff with a scowl. After being caught, Athongba Yaiphabi had sent a carrier Crownbill to the third-year examination site. Korou had made a mental bet for it to take half a day, but his hopes were shattered when Ibo muttered; They fly faster than sound when trained.

"I am in a good mood," Naobi announced with a thump. The orbicular platform below shuddered under her staff. Korou's body quavered as the erum underneath creaked and glowed. "If you explain your reasoning with apt logic, I might just let you all go. After all, begrudgingly, the three of you are important to this village."

She tapped the floor thrice, and they all shot up.

Korou later learnt that it was another application of her flying magic. Though its usage, as an unsafe elevator, was an unorthodox invention, it was born out of the Head-priestess's boredom. The fifth level, termed the void, was Naobi's research chamber. Its walls were engraved in Pakhangba's illustration, and scrolls and books were neatly stacked by the glinting shelves. The ceiling above was painted dark, with a nonogram layered over. Each vertex shone with a flickering symbol. They were signets representing the nine Gods of Yaldaba Pantheon.

"Iromi," Naobi called with a wave. "I will start with you-" She opened the door to her inner study and glanced back at the two. "As for you two, wait patiently until your turn comes." She cast her gaze towards a sulking Ibo. "Especially you, Ibo."

"I know..." Ibo mumbled.

"Do you think Head-priestess will trade my expulsion for my sister's education?" Ibo queried after an hour of waiting.

"I think she would kick you out." Korou clicked his tongue.

"I was suggesting..."

"And I am rejecting that suggestion."

"Won't hurt for you to be nice."

"Okay, Ibo, your expulsion carries no worth. Do you know why? Because we went in together. Therefore, by virtue of it, I can solemnly say, your expulsion value is no better than mine or hers. We negate each other's value, thus no trade."

"I still couldn't understand what you said," Ibo whispered through clenched teeth. "Except this time you don't sound cool."

Neither talked afterwards.

Korou was called in last. Iromi had been silent after hers, and Ibo shook his head when Korou entered.

Her chamber, despite the wait, was worth the time. It dazzled in amber hue, dimmed enough for ambience. Its walls were scribbled in neat pictograms and archaic symbols. Each felt familiar but not the same. They all buzzed with an eerie glow. On the edge was a lone window, angled enough to watch over the village. He could see dots of orange and red covering the dark valley below.

Naobi sat by the table, her arms sprawled as she smiled at him.

"I never expected you to show up so early." She yawned. "Though it was a pleasant surprise."

"Did it feel nice to be proven wrong?" Korou grimaced at his retort. It was a force of habit.

"Wow, Atla was right," Naobi giggled in whispers. "You are like me in many aspects."

"Stubborn?" He cautiously asked.

"No," Naobi snapped her finger, lighting up the room. The comforting ambience was replaced by the hiss of oil lamps. "Foolishly arrogant."

The interrogation was fairly straightforward. What were you doing there? Why did you break the rules? Did you not know about the consequences? And so on. Even Naobi seemed to have grown bored with it. Her eyes spoke: This is standard bear with me.

"So you find our preliminary courses not to your liking?" Naobi unfurled a scroll.

"No, that's not what I meant..." Korou struggled to explain his stance.

Before his call, he had forgotten to get the stories straight with the rest. Now he was debating what to say and what not to. If he told an account different from theirs, it would lead to their expulsion and maybe his reinstation. While if he said the right thing, it would lead to his expulsion and maybe theirs reinstation. Or both.

"I would be very cautious if I were you, Korou." Naobi smiled, her scarlet eyes warning.

Korou found it oddly eerie that this pair made him want to hide, while Atla's filled him with warmth.

"Madame, see," Korou chose honesty with a lie. "We, all three of us, read through the modules for all three years. It had its quirks, I agree, and I am sure our peers won't understand unless their prelims were clear, but for us it was easy."

"And that's why in a joint arrogance you three decided to-"

"My arrogance, ma'am," He swallowed his fear and inherent pride. He had to do this for them. Iromi can't go back, but she should never go back.

"My arrogance." He repeated. "They had nothing to do with it. I forced them, despite my better judgment and their countless warnings."

Korou paused. This was unlike him. In the past, during his postgraduate years, he was caught with his friends sneaking into the museum at night. They had missed a special exhibit on the artefacts unearthed from Hokkaido Shinyobun cavern, and that was the last day it would be displayed. In desperation, he had hatched a plan. The three, he and his roommates, would use the broken window on the first floor and get in. They were hesitant, but youth got the better of them. They succeeded but were caught soon after.

A week later, the director called him during the investigation. They grilled him for the truth; his scholarship was brought up, dangling over his head, a threat waiting to shatter. He trembled, his lips quivered. 'It was their plan.' He had lied. 'It was all them. I told them not to, sir. I am sorry, I should never have been involved.'

The director and the board readily accepted his pleas. And why won't they? The prodigy of Oriental history, seven papers published, and he was barely twenty. He was the golden egg. Their bet for the future.

Three days later, his roommates evacuated the dorm. They had been expelled. None knew who snitched, but they wished him well. Korou, Anu, then believed it was right. This had to be done. For his life couldn't be sacrificed. Yes, they were his friends, but he couldn't save them. And if he can't, at least he has to save himself.

"I beg your pardon." Naobi raised her brows.

"It was my plan, ma'am. I was arrogant; I wanted knowledge that was far beyond my years. They were forced." Korou had always wondered how things would have been if he had uttered the truth; would his roommates have been there? Or would they have expelled all three?

"If that's the case, you will be expelled," Naobi informed. "There's no do-overs, boy. It will be the end."

"It's fine." Korou's lips broke into a smile. His breathing was steady. He was scared, yes. But after a long time, he was free. "I can pursue knowledge with or without the Institution."

"I am not sure if you know my standing, Korou," Naobi raised her brows. "But a letter from me, and no institution in this world, even the capitalists, shall accept you. This is the end of the road."

"You can't take my brain, ma'am." He blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

"My brain," He reiterated with clarity. "You can't take my brain, ma'am. I will still possess my smarts, and as long as I have that, I can manage."

Naobi leaned back on the chair, her eyes half lidded, as she let out a gravelly laugh. Her arms clutched her stomach as tears trickled down.

Korou glanced at her with his head tilted. He wasn't joking. He was sure he had declared his intention with the required assertion and enough logical reasoning to not sound like a childish rebellion. Yet Naobi laughed; as for why? His current cognition capabilities couldn't fathom.

"Call the others as well." Naobi paused after a long while. She waved her arms, like Athongba Yaiphabi, and a sheaf of paper flew before her.

"Are you expelling them?" He asked, ready to fight for them.

"Just call them." Naobi stumped her staff. The bamboo pens hovered over the paper and moved in swift precision. She was writing something. Korou tried to catch a glimpse, but Naobi shot a warning glare.