Two hours later, Quinn stood in front of the mirror.
The room was brighter than it had been when he first sat at the desk. Morning light filtered through the rain-streaked window, turning everything gray and silver.
He adjusted the collar of his shirt.
It felt strange.
Normally Quinn Hatchlock dressed simply, whatever happened to be clean, nothing that required much thought.
Today required thought.
The dark shirt was pressed, buttoned to the collar with his cuffs slightly rolled to hide a stain that wouldn't come out. His trousers were in good condition compared to the rest of his clothes, and the checkered wool coat hanging over his shoulders looked respectable enough for an academy instructor, not perfect but respectable.
The satchel resting on the edge of his bed looked considerably less dignified. Books bulged against the leather, documents filled every remaining space, and the original Quinn's research notebook sat tucked safely between them.
Quinn lifted the bag and settled the strap across his shoulder. It was heavy—not unbearable, but heavy enough. He did one last check through the bag before letting out an exhausted sigh, having remembered all he knows about this life is on paper and locked away in a mind he doesn't have the keys to.
After a moment his gaze drifts back toward the mirror as he approaches it. The scars on his face, the healing wounds hidden beneath his clothes, and the features that still didn't quite feel like his stared back at him.
For a moment he simply stood there examining himself.
Then he ran a hand through his hair and attempted to fully tame it before grabbing a bone comb off the stand beside the mirror, staring at the name on it he missed before.
"Elainya" The name was clearly carved into the comb long ago, but Quinn did not pay it much mind, he gave it a passing glance before starting to fix his hair once more, wetting the comb in a water basin and using it.
After a couple minutes effort, he sets the comb back down and rubs his face, his hair looks a million times better, but all that effort would go to waste if he didn't shave, the problem is he has never used a straight razor.
Maybe I could get away with being like this? That thought vanished rather quickly as he remembered a past experience. He sucked in a breath and decided to get the show on the road, wetting his face and doing his best not to cut off chunks of his face...
Somehow... it went better than expected, after nicking his ear he had a memory from the original Quinn surface and things went smoothly from there.
"Welp, that should be all the prep necessary" He grabs his umbrella and tucks his coat under his arm as he starts to leave his room, pausing for a moment and turning back to grab the key, taking it and putting it around his neck before finally exiting.
The house was quiet, not empty, just quiet.
He makes his way downstairs as somewhere upstairs; Roran was almost certainly still asleep. Freight work started later on Sundays, and when work allowed it he rarely missed church. Elin's room remained closed. Calder's as well.
Only the faint sounds of cooking drifted from the kitchen.
As Quinn stepped into the room, Maris glanced up from the stove.
"There you are."
She smiled and gestured toward the table.
"Come sit."
Quinn obeyed and walked over, setting his satchel down and hanging his coat up on the chair before pulling it out and sitting down, the chair scraping softly against the floor as he does so.
A moment later a steaming mug appeared in front of him, it was coffee, or what smelt like it as it looked like milk.
"The way you like it." Maris said with a smile before returning to the stove.
Quinn hesitated; he stared into the mug before taking a cautious sip.
It was Sweet, very sweet, in fact, it was so sweet it was alarming.
He was fairly certain there was enough sugar in the cup to preserve a corpse.
Still, he swallowed it without complaint.
"It's good."
Maris turned back and gave a smile before humming to herself as she cooked.
Quinn debated himself for a moment before taking another sip. It remained aggressively sweet.
While she worked at the stove she asked casually with a glance towards him, "What are your plans after the academy today?"
Quinn looked over while setting down the mug. "Nothing planned."
"You think you'll be there long?"
He shrugged. "No idea, I surely hope not"
Maris nodded slowly.
She hadn't mentioned it directly, but they both knew what she meant. Whether Quinn understood the details of it was another matter entirely.
"You still going?" she asked.
"I should, she is my student after all."
The answer came automatically. Whether he wanted to attend or not was a different question.
A snort escaped Maris.
"You don't sound very enthusiastic."
"I'm not."
That earned a laugh.
Who would be, He thought to himself. I have no information of what happened
As he thought to himself rain tapped softly against the windows while the stove crackled nearby. The smell of breakfast having filled the room since he had sat down.
Soon Maris carried over a plate and set it in front of him.
Two sunny-side-up eggs, a sausage patty, and three slices of toast.
Simple, warm and comforting.
"Thank you."
"Eat before it gets cold."
Quinn chuckled and nodded before starting to eat.
Maris returned with her tea and settled into the chair beside him. For several minutes they sat quietly. The only sounds came from the rain outside and the occasional clink of silverware.
It was peaceful, the sort of peaceful Quinn hadn't experienced in a long time.
Eventually Maris cleared her throat, once, twice, then a third time.
Quinn glanced over as he swallowed the food in his mouth.
She immediately looked away, a warning sign that Quinn knows all too well as his mother acted the same way.
"What?" he asked before taking a sip of his overbearing coffee.
"Oh, nothing."
"Mother." This time he stared directly at her as he awaited a response.
Maris stared into her tea for several seconds before finally speaking.
"Would you mind taking Calder with you today?"
Quinn paused halfway through cutting up a piece of sausage.
"To the academy?"
"He keeps asking about it." A faint smile touched her lips. "And he's never actually seen it."
Quinn looked down, stabbed the chunk of sausage and ate it before starting to sop of some of the broken egg yolk using a piece of toast.
"Sure, Mother."
The answer came easier than Maris expected.
"I can do that."
Maris brightened instantly.
The transformation was so immediate Quinn nearly laughed.
"Really?"
"Really."
Before he could say anything else she was already standing.
"I'll go wake him."
Quinn watched her hurry toward the stairs. The speed suggested she had been planning this conversation for days.
Maybe weeks.
A few moments later he heard a door open upstairs.
Then another.
A muffled voice that sounded suspiciously like Roran asked what was happening.
Maris ignored him completely.
Quinn returned to breakfast.
A few minutes later he heard footsteps overhead, then a complaint, then laughter, then more footsteps.
When Maris and Calder finally descended the stairs, Quinn nearly choked on his coffee.
Calder's hair looked like it had personally lost a fight against a thunderstorm. The left side pointed upward, the right side pointed outward, and several sections appeared to have chosen entirely unique directions. It looked less like hair and more like a frightened animal attempting escape.
Calder blinked sleepily.
Quinn stared.
Calder stared back.
"Morning."
Quinn pointed with his fork.
"What happened to your head?"
Calder immediately reached up. One of the spikes bent slightly beneath his hand before springing right back into place.
"My hair? It's fine."
"It isn't."
"It is."
"It looks haunted."
Calder gasped.
Maris failed to suppress her laugh, the sound filling the kitchen.
Calder looked genuinely betrayed.
"Mom."
"I'm sorry."
She clearly wasn't.
Quinn gestured toward the table as he stood up.
"Sit down."
Calder marched over with all the dignity available to someone whose hair currently resembled a startled bird's nest and sat while Quinn quickly prepared him a plate, glancing over to Maris as he does so.
"Mother."
"Hm?"
"Can you find him something nice to wear?"
Maris smiled.
"I already have."
Of course she did, the entire operation had clearly been planned in advance.
Quinn chuckled as he set the plate down in front of Calder who began eating before he even said a word.
Quinn stared at him for a moment before he crouched beside him and began attempting to tame the disaster sitting on top of his head, the hair resisted, every time he flattened one section another stood up, Calder complained the entire way and Maris was laughing so hard she couldn't assist which caused Quinn briefly considered surrender.
Eventually water, persistence, and sheer stubbornness won the battle.
Mostly.
By the time Calder finished breakfast and changed clothes he looked presentable. More or less. At least no wildlife appeared to be nesting in his hair anymore.
That counted as a success in Quinn's book.
As they prepared to leave, Roran finally emerged from upstairs.
His hair was only slightly less disastrous than Calder's.
He stopped in the hallway, blinking at the two of them.
"Why's he dressed like that?"
"I'm going to the academy," Calder announced proudly.
Roran looked at Quinn with confusion on his face.
Quinn looked back with pursed lips, judging the mess on Roran's head before responding.
"Yep, he is."
Roran stared for several seconds before nodding.
"Alright."
Then he wandered toward the kitchen in search of coffee, apparently deciding whatever explanation existed could wait.
A short while later Quinn and Calder stood outside beneath a large umbrella.
Rain drifted lazily through the streets of Dunmire, the city was only beginning to wake, shopkeepers opened shutters, workers moved through the streets with collars raised against the weather. Smoke rose from chimneys into the gray morning sky.
Beside him, Calder stood proudly in his nicer clothes, practically vibrating with excitement.
Ahead of them waited the academy.
A disciplinary committee, questions he wasn't prepared to answer, people he didn't know, expectations he barely understood.
Quinn adjusted the satchel on his shoulder and fought back a yawn; exhaustion lingered behind his eyes.
Beside him, Calder noticed immediately.
"You look tired."
"I am tired."
"You should sleep more."
Quinn glanced down at him.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Calder nodded seriously, as though he had just offered profound wisdom.
The contrast felt unfair.
"Ready?" Quinn asked.
Calder nodded immediately.
"Yep."
Quinn sighed.
"Good."
Then the two of them stepped out into the rainy streets of Dunmire, one excited to finally see the academy and the other wondering how many mistakes he could make before someone realized he wasn't the man they thought he was.