First Meeting (1)
That night, swayed by the advice over drinks, I sent an acceptance notice without even conducting an interview. And today was the day I was finally meeting that slave... no, graduate student, for the first time.
There was still plenty of time before the appointed hour. I stepped out of my office and took a look around the new lab. I hadn't tidied up in advance to make a good impression on the newbie. Not that there was anything to tidy, anyway.
The roughly ten-by-ten-meter cabin was nearly empty, giving an impression that went beyond neat into downright barren. Filling the space were just two empty shelves, a stone table, a wooden table, and three chairs. The tables were spotless, with only a single thick book on the wooden one. The shelves stood side by side against the wall to the left of the entrance, while the long tables crossed the room at about the halfway point lengthwise. Each table had its short side flush against the right wall. Because of that, the path from the lab entrance to my office door was so narrow even two people couldn't pass comfortably. If we placed even one large experimental apparatus in each of the two divided spaces, there'd be hardly any room left.
As I pondered the basic materials and supplies to stock the shelves and tables with, I heard the door across the way creak open.
Screeech—
The door swung open, revealing a beautiful elf with long black hair. Nothing particularly striking about her appearance at first glance, but despite her young age, she had a more mature air than any elf I'd met. Maybe it was her tall stature and the impression given by her black hair. Well, adult elves don't fuss much over age anyway. From my perspective, 200 years old or 800 made no difference.
But two hours early?
I'd clearly underestimated elven time sense. As I second-guessed whether my decision from a week ago had been too hasty, a clear, calm voice rang out.
"Hello, Professor. I'm Arienael, the new master's student starting this term."
Now that she was close enough to talk, I noticed more details. First, her black eyes and the long, pointed ears typical of elves. Her outfit wasn't much different from what human students wore, but it featured more leather than cloth, which stood out. Everything seemed prioritized for practicality over aesthetics. Made sense for a lab—easy to move in. I liked it.
"Yeah, nice to meet you. But you're a bit early."
This casual tone felt a little off for dealing with someone her age, but I'd have to get used to it.
"Ah... I heard it's better to arrive a little early than on time, so I came ahead to wait. If you're busy, I'll stand by until you're finished."
'A little early'?
Her future looked like it was going to be a rough one. I'd planned to review her application properly and outline things before the appointed time, but plans changed. I wasn't an immortal long-lived species; I couldn't just make someone sit around twiddling their thumbs for two hours. Even if I chugged an immortality elixir, I doubted I'd ever develop that kind of time sense.
"No, it's fine—even if you're earlier than expected. Just... next time... no, never mind. Welcome to the lab."
I'd almost said to come on time next time but swallowed it. No need to discourage someone eager to show up early and work.
A habit hardened over ten times my lifespan probably wouldn't change with a word from me anyway.
"Standing around talking like this is awkward—have a seat. Grab a chair over there."
I didn't think we needed a table, so we hadn't moved, but that was a mistake. Sitting face-to-face with nothing between us left nowhere to look but each other's faces. And why were we sitting this close? It felt oppressive.
"You probably get the gist, but let me introduce the lab first. My major is technically spellcraft, but as you can see, what we're doing here is applied magic. Elements, spells, mana, alchemy, enchantment... pretty much every field slapped together. Magic disciplines are all interconnected anyway, so no need to worry if you're not a spellcraft major."
Throughout my explanation, the elf's black eyes stayed fixed on my face. It made me self-conscious, so I rushed through the intro and averted my gaze awkwardly.
"Ah, I see."
Ah, I see?
Her pleasant voice almost let it slide, but something felt off. Like she was hearing it for the first time. Sure, undergrads might not know much about a new professor, but this was different. I was something of a big name, after all. My research on magic circle construction during my PhD had been a hot topic not just in spellcraft but across the entire magic academia. It had even helped my advisor—barely versed in formulas—secure tenure.
Damn it! My fame was why I'd gotten my doctorate from Imperial University and returned home to a professorship right away. Sure, academic news stays in academic circles, but someone applying to a grad lab should know that much, right? Especially since they'd be committing years of their life to it...
Ah... right, she's an elf.
Maybe she'd picked the lab like a human choosing a social club for a two-month trip abroad.
"Got it."
Where to start? "Might be sudden, but I'll ask: why my lab?"
"Why?"
"Elves coming to a magic university isn't common. Even rarer for grad programs. I'm curious."
It was a question I'd normally cover in an interview, probably skimmed in her application. But since she'd joined without knowing my research, did I really need to hold back?
"Ah, I'm interested in potion brewing. I'd like to research that."
"An elf into potions? That's unusual."
Elves had strong natural regeneration and decent healing arts. Did they even use potions?
"Do elves even need potions? I don't think I've seen it."
"Yes. Usually not."
"For other races, then?"
"No. There are elves with low recovery and poor response to nature-based healing. They're rare but keep appearing. It's innate, can't be fixed."
I'd heard of it somewhere. Born to the forest folk but denied the forest's blessing. Their plight wasn't just like mana-less humans—most humans can't use magic anyway. For elves, affinity with nature was a racial trait. Like being born without limbs or sight—a freak.
"I've heard of them. Do they use potions?"
"No, even they don't."
Why? You said they need them.
"Some cultural or religious reason?"
"It's not that they won't—it's that they can't. Human potions mostly don't work on elves. Mild effect at best, usually none. Worst case, backlash."
News to me. I knew spells and items could vary by race, but not this drastically. Similar builds usually meant compatibility, so I'd assumed human meds worked on elves.
"First I've heard of it."
"Yeah. Not something we advertise. That's why I want to research—potions that work for those kids."
"No one's studying it? Seems intriguing enough."
"Not blaming anyone, but humans don't research without profit. Elves are few, and potion-needy ones even fewer. I get it."
"That's a shame."
"Yeah. They say the money for that could save thousands of injured or sick humans. Hard to argue. If we want to save elves, elves have to step up. Can't wait for humans forever."
Hm... Shameful, sure. But she really hadn't looked into me at all. None of my dozen-plus papers as lead author were on potion brewing. Side projects, maybe, but not on this topic.
Of course, that didn't mean we couldn't do potions here. My own work barely overlapped anyway.
Hm... but something still felt off.
"I get your situation. Your name was... Ari..."
"Arienael is fine."
"Right, Arienael."
The lab name "Applied Magic Research Lab" was a declaration of no field restrictions. Nothing specialized yet, so any magic topic fit under applied magic—elements, spellcraft, mana flow. Pure theory? Easy to justify. Alchemy was fine, and potion-making as its subfield too.
But with such a specific goal, why not a better lab? She should've gone to the alchemy department—top-tier in the kingdom. Why a magic department newbie?
"Clear motivation is good, at least."
'Make medicine for kids suffering without treatment.'
Noble goal, but for humans, generations away. For elves? Achievable in one lifetime if she nailed it. Coming to a magic university to learn from humans for that...
Wait. Some circumstance she can't talk about?
Unlike my earlier assumption, she hadn't drifted in aimlessly. She had a firm goal, planned for undergrad to grad school. Yet she'd applied without proper research? To a cross-field rookie prof? Her reaction earlier showed it wasn't my fame.
Or some ulterior motive?
Ugh. No point overthinking. Why nitpick one master's student?
Lost in thought, the silence stretched. Even for a long-lived species, this was rude. Lifting my gaze, I startled.
I'd figured out the nagging unease. From sitting down to now, the elf hadn't shifted posture once. And those black eyes? Still locked on my face.
She's observing me?