Taní stared at the lines in his tome. They made sense. He hated that they made sense. Nearly an entire month had passed since his meeting with the siblings, yet the only thing he’d learned was that more people hated him for stepping on flowers. That, and being the slowest reader in class. Despite what their schedules claimed, the bell didn't dismiss them. The instructors did.

The silver lining? Thanks to his inability to read at a moderate pace, master Yedevar had exempted him from class participation. Or it would be more specific to say he avoided picking him altogether.

As for Taní’s government and mathematics instructors… Well, Despite all their chiding, he failed to differentiate them.

Then who could forget about master Deena. Good, sweet master Deena. If there was one person he could rely on to ruin his day, it was her.

She would go through the extra effort to single him out among his classmates, embarrass him, and promptly ask Innes to correct his mistake. The woman never called him stupid, but he could tell she enjoyed lording over him by branding him “misunderstood.” Right, like him knowing next to nothing about another country’s history was somehow his fault.

Maybe he should’ve asked his peasant mother to educate him while she was at it. At least Taní had lunch to unwind. Then, and only then, he could be at peace. Jerry’s Joint made for a great escape from the hustle and bustle of school life, but as he crossed the cafeteria, he stopped. That thing was there again: The instinct to stride to the retreat without a second thought. As if the floor was but a shifting tide. Gentle, but firm.

His legs wobbled, desperate to move again, but he held. He…wanted something different. Something more than just another day in that pseudo clubhouse nestled upon the roof.

Deciding he could live a day without Jaster’s godly cuisine, Taní pressed into the cafeteria and picked a tray. The needling of a distant poker failed to turn him away. He passed the Fadenician section and smiled as he spotted Çzar and Canela in their usual spot. They were chatting with friends. About what, he couldn’t discern, but they looked happy. That must’ve felt nice.

Feeling like you had somewhere to belong.

Canela’s eyes darted to his, and though she didn’t wave, she flashed him a small smile. That was probably the warmest greeting he would ever get from House Fadénix. Best to keep it that way before he only made it worse.

Taní sped by and made his way toward the isolated series of islands. Lavisa sat alone again. Content with paradise as she picked apart her lunch.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Taní said, sitting down.

Lavisa met his gaze, swallowed, and then gave a slight tilt of her head. “I was wondering where you had gone.”

“Y-You were?”

“Yes.”

Taní waited with bated breath for her to elaborate, but in the end, she returned to her meal. Well, at least some things haven't changed.

As waves of conversation buzzed in his ears, he caught several snippets. Most dealt with the mundane aspects of school life, like grades, unrealistic expectations, a ruthless instructor, or wishful first-years hoping to wield their House’s relics.

Over the month, Çzar had detailed the demanding process of Synthesizing with such startling detail that he had Taní convinced he was some sort of teacher’s aide. If he possessed the knowledge, then why hadn’t he applied for champion? Being a gardener was fine, but a champion? The title alone demanded respect.

Taní glanced at Lavisa, opened his mouth, but hesitated. She was royalty. People probably spoke to her all the time. It must’ve tired her listening to the same three lines over and over again.

He mulled over his icebreaker until he finally blurted, “You know House Fadénix has two relics?”

Lavisa froze mid-bite. Her breathtaking lavender-sapphire eyes flickered toward him, but instead of shooting him a strange look, a curious twinkle shone in her soothing pools. “Truly?”

“Y-Yeah… I saw it myself. Kinda.”

“How so?”

“So, there’s two shrines in the vault. One of them’s in this creepy dark corner. Empty n’ stuff. First one is closer to the light, but it’s just a helmet.”

“Do you’ve a clue as to the identity of your missing relic?” inquired Lavisa.

Taní drummed his fork against the table. “Not really. The treasurer said it could be anything. A lance used to kill a king, a ring, some other piece of her armor. We dunno. There’s just a bunch of stories.”

“Fascinating. Care to share one?”

“Oh, uh…no. I wouldn’t mind.” Taní quickly scrounged through his clustered mind for an appropriate tale. “So back when the academy was founded, Fadénix had a ring. A really pretty one, too, but here’s the weird part: the gemstone wasn’t a gem. They think it a sample of her blood. Just all crystalized and stuff. Apparently, she’d made it before the outbreak of the Three Nations War.” He adjusted himself in his seat. “She fought with the other founders, but whenever they would break for peace, Fadénix would be the one they sent. And every time she went, she’d wear this ring. No armor or weapons. Just the clothes on her back. For some reason, it worked. She even brought it down to the labyrinth and all that.”

Lavisa cocked a brow. Taking this as a sign, he continued.

“Canela—she’s the Fadenician treasurer—said that Fadénix claimed the honor of being the first person to ever explore the place. Even discovered all the floors we know about, but Valtar and D’Arcy? They were afraid of the place. Said it was an omen.”

“And your House possesses her Helm, correct?” Lavisa double-checked, the smooth twist of her elegant accent like the gentle surf.

“Yeah, it’s real pretty. Not as cool as D’Arcy’s Spine or her timepiece, but it’s neat. The thing is…nobody knows what happened to Fadénix or the rest of her stuff. She just disappeared one day.” Taní spread his hands. “Maybe she got tired of everything and just died out there somewhere. Like in a nice, cozy pasture by the beach, or even against a tree. Grazers always say that Tygenna plucks them from the greenest places when they pass. Something about green putting you one step closer to her.” He smiled to himself. “Yeah… I like to imagine that’s how she went. Mostly cuz it’s how I want to go out, too.”

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“Against a tree? Not buried?”

“Nah. I don’t think a Juneacão like me’ll ever be buried.”

The neutral line of Lavisa’s lips broke. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m a Grazer. We don’t get buried; we just join nature when we’re done.” Taní tapped his tray with his utensil. “It kinda scared me when I was little. I thought all Juneacão were supposed to get big, great tombs when they passed, but no. I’ve seen too many Grazers just sit and sleep. They never wake up again.”

“Oh…”

He jumped in a panic. “S-Sorry, I guess it’s not normal for a princess to hear all that, is it?”

“No, I—” Her eyes fell to the table, conflicted. “I thought every Juneacão granted the same honor.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Several silent minutes elapsed as neither knew what to say. And Lavisa? She just sat staring at her food, her eyes crestfallen.

“Y’know, they called her the first Grazer,” Taní said, pouring what remained of his enthusiasm into her tone. If only for her. “She didn’t like joining Juries. Thought they were too stuck-up. Can’t really help everyone if you’re always stuck indoors. But…I guess even she knew that wasn’t realistic. Not that she didn’t try. Being a Grazer isn’t easy. Weather sucks, people aren’t usually welcoming, merchants try to scam you, but sometimes, you’ll meet the funniest, weirdest people there’s ever been.” A memory jolted his mind, and before he could help it, he clapped. “Like this one grandma I met in Ranestadé! She let us lodge with her during Frostfall, and every night before we slept, she’d pop open this little journal her father left her. You know what it was? Just a bunch of jokes.”

Lavisa’s saddened gaze met his. “Truly?”

“Nah, I’m lying. Just like my grandfather’s chair. I keep telling him to fix that broken leg, but he just stomps around yelling that the two he’s got still work.”

Lavisa fell deathly still. Her only indicator of sentience was the slight quirk of her lips. Then he caught it: A light, pleasant ring. Like the bells that signaled the end of each period.

They came in bursts, barely contained, until suddenly, she hunched over the table, gasping for air. Her hand flew to her side even as the other hammered the surface, her gasps replaced by uncontrolled laughter.

Stunned, Taní waited for her fit to subside, but instead of straightening once her laughter quieted, she wheezed, repeated the joke to herself, and then laughed harder. His heart melted into a feel-good soup warmer than all the twinkling lights dotting the Desolator’s hide.

So Taní joined her, but not because he found the joke terribly funny. Adequate, yes, but constantly hearing it had dulled the juices. No, he chuckled because he delighted in her mirth.

He laughed because it would be sweeter than letting her laugh alone.

Lavisa finally recovered from her near strangulation, her eyes silvering with the warmth of a Sun’s Peak coastline. “Her father must’ve been of a greater wit than most,” she breathed. “Would you happen to recall more?”

Taní unleashed a horde of unholy furniture-based humor with no remorse, their effects doubling with each utterance. Lavisa cackled, howled, and when she couldn’t breathe, wheezed with delight.

When he ran dry of munitions, he searched through his trove of memories, hoping to find one last joke to prolong her divine laughter. Before he could utter it, she held up a shaky hand, her lips quivering.

“P-Please…mercy…I’m going to pass. I truly am…”

Taní smirked. “Who knew all it would take to wipe out the royal bloodline was telling a few bad jokes? I tell you; I might be the world’s best assassin.”

“Bad? You’d shame the royal jester with your presence.”

“Do you think it’s too late to change careers?”

“Perhaps…” She straightened with a small, dazzling smile. Her first genuine smile. “Though such occurrences aren’t unheard of. Besides, you wouldn’t cut it as a jester.”

He grinned. “Bit of a dream killer, aren’t you?”

“No, I simply believe your potential lies beyond your ability to tell jokes.”

“Really?”

Lavisa recovered her fork. “Truly, though I’d rather you never cease your pursuit of comedy. For Valeço’s sake, that is.”

“Well, if worse comes to worse, I can always work two jobs.”

Their discussion quickly devolved to one of blood-stained relics as Taní shared what little else he knew of the last Fadenician treasure. Most were murky anecdotes regarding the lance's whereabouts. He did, however, doubt its general existence, since the stories surrounding it varied from fantastic to plain odd.

Lavisa remarked on how she possessed a blood-stained relic, though that didn’t surprise Taní. He was familiar with Voen’s history. Being the only direct female descendant of the late queen, he thought it only natural that Lavisa inherited her Crown.

Taní didn’t know what it looked like in person, but he’d seen dozens of portraits of the woman. She had Lavisa’s eyes, but her hair was blonder than it was salmon. Lavisa inquired about Taní’s relic, though he quickly brushed it off. Explaining that it was a dumb rumor started by Innes. Her lack of shock spoke for itself.

“Have you considered getting back at him?” she asked.

“I’d rather not get in trouble with royalty…”

“As if he possesses any real authority.” Lavisa took a light sip of her tea. “The whelp can hardly tie his boots, let alone run a kingdom.”

Taní snorted. “He can’t even tie his shoes?”

“Truly,” Lavisa said with a smug grin, “so don’t worry. The worst he could do is expel you from his land.”

“So...how do I get back at him?”

“You can duel him, for one. If you find yourself short on funds, you might be in luck.”

Taní leaned forward. “How?”

“At the end of each month, the academy hosts a tourney. Students participate for free,” she explained.

“Is there a catch?”

“Losing, I suppose. The tourney incentivizes rivalry, thus leading to a friendly, albeit competitive, environment. It also aids in master Sanrevelle’s scouting for the Academy-network games.” Lavisa skewered her last shred of ham. “I might’ve lied, though. While losing may be harmless, the winning House has much to gain. Namely, a prize of ten thousand SG. Enough to purchase two entire days off.”

“And the losers?” Taní pressed.

“A tariff is placed on all House-sold imports. Oh, and if you’re wondering why the losing Houses don’t flood the winners' hall, it’s because the shame always gets to them. This creates a system where sizeable sums of SG inevitably return to the academy.”

“Sounds kinda predatory,” Taní remarked.

Lavisa laughed. “I suppose it is, though I’m serious. If you intend to enact your revenge, then the monthly tourney is your best chance.”

“Nah, no thanks. I’d rather not be responsible for more of my House’s misery. Plus, he’s your cousin. It’d be kinda weird to beat him up in front of you.”

“But why? I do so enjoy a good show.”

Good blood, how could something be so awfully tempting? Not that Taní would accept her off. He knew Danza wouldn’t approve. If he wanted to be a great Juneacão, then he couldn’t let some royal brat get to him. But then again…

“You’re completely okay with it though?” Taní eyed her up and down.

Lavisa took a small bite of her ham and swallowed it. “Manners are simply for appearances, Tanão. I’ve no warmth or tenderness for Innes. Do as you must. I only ask you to spill those tears of his.”

A bell tolled, signaling the end of their meal. Though Taní was loath to part ways, he couldn’t afford another tardy mark. He mentally prepared himself for yet another disappointing Sedd class, but as he sat halfway up, he stopped.

Lavisa gazed at him. Unperturbed, like always.

“Uh…well…bye.” He gave an awkward wave.

Lavisa dipped her head. “Do take care until Art.”

And with that, she left.