Chloe cursed Davison's regrettably vague note. He always did this to her. And the worst part is, he always sent her such fascinating subjects. She'd never been able to turn away any of the troubled beauties Davison had saddled her with, even though they almost always turned out to be more trouble than they were worth.

Her curiosity got the better of her again. She sent Davison an e-mail letting him know she was willing to take a look at this Dennis fellow he was raving about.

A week later, she was facing him across the broad desk in her office on the mainland. He seemed very nervous, almost twitchy. Certainly not in keeping with the 'headstrong' label Davison had given him. Sort of cute, in a gawky, awkward way. Stammered through most of the interview questions. His resolve, however, was plain.

"You must be aware, Mr. Skinner, that when you arrive at the Academy, you must surrender any personal autonomy. Anything the instructors wish you to do, anything they wish to do to you, you will be expected to comply."

"I understand." Almost a whisper, but there was a deep sincerity in those liquid brown eyes.

"You may think you understand now, but I find that even our most experienced students find the full immersion environment at the Academy... somewhat overwhelming. They realize, of course, as you know by now, that they won't be actually *injured*, but we can't always guarantee that no permanent scars will result." Chloe watched that remark sink in. At the mention of scars, an odd glimmer crossed the young man's features. Hmm. She'd have to be sure Asenath worked with this one. "Should it prove too much for you, you can at any time speak to one of the instructors, and be returned to the mainland. Should you do so, however, it is very unlikely you would be allowed to return." She would have said never, but there had been a handful of exceptions over the years. Asenath, in fact, had been one of them. And now she was an instructor.

"When can I start?"

***

Another week had passed before Chloe guided Dennis and two other new prospects to the pier where the Academy's boat, the GEBURAH. It was a brisk sort of day, cool with a strong breeze. Autumn, starting to assert itself. Before allowing any of them to board, Chloe turned to the three.

"This is where you have to really, truly decide. You can leave now, walk away, forget you ever heard about the Academy, remain.... unchanged. The instant you set foot on this boat, the tranformation begins. Don't laugh that off, don't think for one second that I am joking." The wind tugged at her hair, pulling strands loose from the bun she'd twisted it into. She turned to one of the three.

"Lori." The thin-faced blonde looked up, tentatively. "You have to decide, now. If you choose to walk away, no one will be angry with you, or blame you, or come looking for you. If you choose to walk up that gangplank, you've commited yourself, and even if you change your mind later, you will never be the same."

She turned to the next 'victim'. "Mason." Even now, the handsome young man preened under her attention. "You won't be the center of everyone's attention at the Academy. Do you really think you can handle being one of many? You can return to being the star of your social circle, or you can get on the boat."

Finally, she turned to Davison's enigmatic protoge'. "Dennis." He didn't look up, instead staring at the choppy waves. She reached out and grabbed him by the chin, forcing his gaze towards her. "Not a good beginning, Dennis. Are you sure you'll be able to handle this? Nobody's going to look down on you if you walk away, but this has to be your decision."