Asgard Academy of the Universe s Fundamental Laws

The evening in the office of the Director of Asgard Academy of the Universe's Fundamental Laws had taken an unexpected turn. Almit Beloyar sat at his desk, studying the laws of Beloria, which were changing at a frightening pace. Every new decree issued by the Supreme Witch drove another nail into the coffin she was prepearing for the counrty. The Beloria he remembered had been entirely different – bright, just, and full of life. Founded by sorcerers on the terrirory of Russia, it had been concealed from unwelcome visitors by ancient magic. What he saw now was hardly recognizable.

Asgard Academy was the only educational institution in the world where the sacred knowledge of the White Gods was still preserved. They were the distant ancestors of the Slavic peoples who had once inhabited the vast land of Oriana Hyperborea. Almit's family had been among the Academy's founders and had helped preserve this ancient knowledge. He had ingerited his potision from his father, one of the Academy's original founders, who had passed on everything he knew to his son. At thirty-five, Almit was still quite young for a director. Yet the constant strain had made him look older than he really was.

After scanning one of the articles, Almit frowned in displeasure. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, then ran a hand through his thick, wavy, ash-blond hair, pushing it back from his face. It was an almost automatic gesture, yet it betrayed the exhaustion he never allowed himself to show in public.

One of the latest decrees issued by Varvara Luchnay, the ruler of Beloria, handed her unlimited power and turned the council of the inner circle into something  lifeless: decocation for the eyes. In doing so, she shattered any illusions anout a bright, fair future - and made the people realize that a dark tyranny is coming, and soon it will take hold in their country.

"Things are bad"
Almit leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. Varvara was not merely reckless, not merely cruel, with no patience for criticism of any kind. She was a traitor to her own country. With every step, she erased what Beloria had been build for. And now many generations would have to live with the wreckage of her rule, paying for her choices, repairing what she had broken. The elders tried to soften the sharp corners when they spoke to her, to keep peace with careful words and careful silences - but Varvara could not stand compromise. She had seized power through deception, and now the people had to survive inside the trap she had build. 

Almit understood perfectly that the future of the country depended on ordinary people: those who worked in the fields and factories, and those he himself trained within the walls of the Academy. The students received more than an aducation. They were taught to love - to love one another, their people, their country, and the world of reality. These invisible lessons were sometimes more important than any textbook. The values passed down through the ancient bloodlines became as natural to the students as breathing, because Almit and other teachers lived by them. They didn't merely teach those values; they ambodied them.

The Supreme Witch saw the destruction of the Academy - and of the knowledge the ancient volkhvs had struggled to preserve and pass on to the younger generations - as the very purpose of her rule. To Almit, it was obvious that she served the forces of darkness. It was equally clear that war could not be avoided. If Varvara's destructive rule continued,Beloria would meet the same tragic face as its material - world counterpart: Russia.

A sudden knock at the door pulled the Director from his unpleasant thoughts. At the mage's silent command, the door swung open. As head of the Academy, Almit was always available to deal with any problem. Still, neither staff nor students usually disturbed him so late in the evening. He was therefore somewhat surprised to find Yasvena Kalinina, a sixth-year student, standing on the threshold.
"I wonder what she wants from me at this hour?"

He smiled and gestured fir her to come in, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. An evening dress, high heels. Her hair arranged in soft curls. She certainly hadn't dressed for classes - or training. She had come for something else. Yasvena was beautiful. He knew it, as everyone did. But tonight, her beauty seemed almost deliberate- as if she had chosen every detail with care.

-Good evening, Yasvena. Is there some occasions I haven't been informed about? the Director asked teasingly. He gestured toward the guest chair, set the newspapaer aside and leaned back in his own.

The girl sat down, but she didn't look at him. Instead, she thoughtfully wound a strand of hair around her finger, staring unfocused at something in front of her.

Almit watched the adept with interest.

-How can I help you at such a late hour?"

She seemed to come back to herself and gave an apologetic smile.

-I'm sorry… I was lost in thought. I wanted to talk to you. I have a question… questions.
- Questions?
A trace of uncertainty crept into her voice — something Almit had never noticed in her before. He merely nodded and pretended to search for something on his desk, giving her time to gather her thoughts. Something was clearly troubling  her. Even this usually quick-witted student was struggling to find the right words.

-I wanted to ask about the schedule for the electives - clairvoyance and hypnosis. Mark Grigorievich insists that I attend the additional classes every day. Is that really necessary?

Almit looked at the student in surprise.

-I understand that you want more free time. Your department is always burdened with training, even though the academic year has only just begun, but...

-That's not the reason,- she interrupted then immediately seemed embarrassed by her own boldness. I... I simply don't see the point."

-Please explain it to me

-I do everything that's expected of me, but I can't do it. I don't understand how to search faster or how to induce hypnosis with a single command. These exercises exhaust me. It was the same last year."

-That's strange,- Almit murmured slowly, studying her carefully. Mark Grigorievich thinks very highly of you. He's always praising you for your progress.

- So he says,- she replied with a quiet, almost bitter laugh. But during class, he scolds me.

-That's a teaching technique,- Almit smiled back at the girl. He knows you're capable of more. Don't take it personally, and I strongly recommend you continue with the sessions.

Yasvena nodded in agreement and bit her lower lip — coquettishly, and far too deliberately. Then she rose slowly and walked around the desk without taking her eyes off him. Almit grew alert. Her gesture had nothing to do with a conversation about studies.

She came to a stop almost flush against him, forcing him to rise from his chair. Now they stood unacceptably close. Almit slipped his hands into his pockets, restraining a smile:

-Something else?

-Perhaps we could have some wine?,- the girl suggested unexpectedly.

-A bold proposal
He gave a quiet amused chuckle.

-Don't you get enough of wine at student parties?

-No. I simply want to spend some time with you. Do you mind?

"Does she really lack male attention?" The thought flashed through Almit's mind.

The girl was popular with the young men, so her behavior surprised him, though he gave no sign of it. Instead, he answered with a question of his own.

-Having trouble with guys?

Yasvena smiled before answering.

-No.

Almit folded his arms across his chest and watched the girl intently, continuing to ask questions.

-Having difficulties with your studies or with one of the teachers?"

-No.

-Do you need something from me? Some kind of special privileges?

-No.

-Did you lose a bet to your friends?

Yasvena laughed softly at his guesses. Without looking away from the man, she said playfully:

- You have quite an imagination. No. I'm not interested in asking teachers for favors or receiving special privileges.

-Then what do you want from me?

Yasvena suddenly leaned forward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered almost against his lips:

-Kiss me.

Almit froze.

-You… seriously?

For a long moment, he studied her eyes in silience, expecting to catch some hint of a trick - or at least some awareness of how inappropriate the situation was. But Yasvena didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. On the contrary, the determination in her gaze left him baffled.

-I'll ask you again, he said, carefully prying her arms loose and stepping back toward the window.
-What do you want?
-I already answered. I want to spend time with you.

She wasn't giving up. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she tried once more to press her lips to his. This time, there was nowhere for him to retreat. She pressed her whole body against his, forcing him back against the window. Almit turned away gently but firmly, removing her hands from his shoulders and stopping her before she could try again.

"Something's not right"

Then it suddenly occured to him what might lie behind such inappropriate behavior from an otherwise diligent adept.

-Have you been smoking something? Taking something? — his voice hardened. He searched her eyes. Her pupils looked normal.

"I am not going to use Legilimency just yet"

-No.
-Then what is it?
- I like you. Very much.

"Ah, so that's it."

He exhaled in relief, almost laughing.

-Unbelievable. Is this some kind of student prank? Or did you try to use magic on me and it didn't work? Leave, Yasvena. I'm busy, and I don't have time for this this nonsense.

"What on earth has she got into her head? Instead of studying, she's decided to seduce the Director!"

He looked at her with poorly concealed disappointment.

The students respected him,and Almit knew that many of them - especially the girls - found him attractive. But he had never used his charm to his advantage. He kept everything under control: his voice, his gaze, even the energy he projected. He wasn't interested in female attention. His mind was occupied with his work, his responsibilities, and the running of the Academy. With his colleagues, he allowed himself the occasional joke - light, clever, sometimes even flirtatious - but everyone always sensed where the line was.

Yasvena refused to give up.
- I'm serious. I like you very much.

She moved toward him again, coming far too close. Almit deliberately stepped aside, irritation giving way to unease.

- Did you really drink something? Smoke something?
- No
- Why can't you understand that there's an age gap between us? A difference in status - and, ultimately, different faiths?
- The future isn't predetermined! - she cried, almost desparetely. It depends on choice. On our choice.

While he was still trying to decide how to answer, she closed the remaining distance and pressed her lips to his. It was a bold, desparate kiss.
Almit didn't return it, but neither did he push her away. Instead, he caught her hands, closed his fingers firmly around her wrists, and pulled her against him. Leaning toward her ear, he spoke so quietly that a shiver ran down her spine each word distinct and deliberate.

- Don't play with me. I might not be able to stop.
- Then don't stop, - she breathed against his neck.
In those words, there was everyting: desire, defiance and despair.

He realized he was only inflaming himself further. He loosened his grip and almost pushed her away.

-This is madness! Do you hear me? Madness! Please, don't lose your mind-and don't drive me out of mine.
- Leave. Go while there's still time, before I'm forced to punish you for behaving like this. I've known you since you were seven. You grew up before my eyes! When did you become so corrupted?"

The last word came out harsher than he intended.

-Corrupted?-she cried?,no longer trying to restrain herself.
-Since when is love a form of corruption?

There was no playfulness in her voice, no trace of enchantment. It was a genuine cry of pain. She truly believed every word she was saying. And that left Almit speechless.

"Enough".