Well, Thistle's confused now. 

"I...I thought I was here for assessment?"

"You certainly are. Everything is a part of it. Young Magicians don't realise how much their powers play into even their mannerisms. And since you seem to be excellent at hiding yourself, I thought perhaps that might be your favoured school, much as it is mine."

“Does being my ‘favoured’ school make it my discipline, ma'am?" 

The professor's lips twist in a grimace. "Please, no ma'am's. Professor or Kassandra will do just fine." 

She twists her fingers together and apart, and then leans back in her chair to flick a glass door open, and retrieves one of the spheres. She puts it in front of Thistle. "What do you see?"

Is this a trick question?

"...a sphere? Metal, I think?"

Kassandra nods her head to the side, making a non-committal noise. 

She twists her hands together again. "And now?" 

The minotaur roared to life in front of Thistle, who screamed soundlessly and fell back out of her chair, scrambling back away from the monster that had appeared in front of her, what the fuck kind of assessment is this- fuck, was she going to be killed?

And then the minotaur was gone, and there was just a sphere on a desk again. 

Kassandra was laughing. "Sorry! Sorry, I know, it is one of my more terrifying ones." She was already out of her chair, moving around to help Thistle back up. 

"That...that wasn't real?" Thistle took Kassandra's hand and let herself be pulled up. 

"Ehhhhh-" Kassandra tilts her head back and forth. "It depends on what you consider real. Like, for example, you see that statue?" 

She points to the corner behind Thistle. 

Thistle turns and looks. The statue is of a bird, an eagle maybe, with wings stretched out. It looks very old. 

She turns back to Kassandra, wondering where this was going. 

"And now?" Kassandra gestures behind again. 

Thistle turns back around, and swears and ducks-

-as the statue swoops over her head, in full feathered real life.

Kassandra coos to the eagle as it lands on her outstretched arm, and kisses its beak. "Ikaros, you frightened my student, naughty bird."

Ikaros calls, loudly, and does not sound apologetic. 

Thistle stares at the bird, now grooming one huge wing, in wonder. 

"But is...is it a bird or a statue? Which was the real thing?" 

"Does that truly matter? Whether Ikaros was a statue or a bird first? The evidence is in what you see, is it not?"

There's a glint in the professor's eyes, and Thistle feels like she is trying to say something that Thistle already knows.

Something on the tip of her tongue. 

Something stirs through Thistle, thrilling down to her fingertips. 

"It's as real as I can make it," Thistle says, on a breath. 

Kassandra nods. "Exactly." 

"My power is...to hide?"

"In a sense, I would think so. You mask something of yourself all the time. Only someone well trained in seeing past could tell the difference."

"Oh. So I can only use my power on myself?" 

Somewhat disappointing, after such a revelation.