Twirling her pencil atop a fingertip, Herah studied Rose for a few precious seconds, then began to draw.
First, a rough sketch of Rose’s general proportions and features. An array of short and sharp lines appeared in the wake of the artist’s pencil, quickly drawn and arranged to create a tall and lean figure with a diamond for a head and an oval for hair. The figure posed leaning upon a thin rectangle.
Second, the specifics began to be added. Sharp glaring eyes, slim but muscular limbs, scales and more all took shape. The thin rectangle turned into a two-ertèmasstick, and the figure gained slacks and a shirt.
Soon, the figure stood rendered flatly in black and white. Still, Herah was not done, tone and depth up next. Light shadows and highlights filled much of the face and upper body, while the limbs and lower half were drenched in darkness thanks to the figure's leaning position.
All of this flowed from the artist’s pencil with the ease of breathing. No mistake, no hesitation, no thought, just the gliding of her hand as Herah brought her vision to the page. With no need or hurry, the artist allowed herself to become consumed by the process and disappear from everything. No one or thing existed, nothing besides the incomplete art at her fingertips.
Herah wouldn’t reappear until a full black and white rendition of Rose, half-covered in thick shadows and leaning upon her two-ertèmasstick with a snarl and glare, stared back at her. Every detail of the teacher, from the soft glow of her eyes to the slight asymmetry of her horns, was put to page in full to create a piece of art that captured her full reality.
A shame, I’ll probably never bring you into mine.
“And that is all for today, class.”
The artist looked up and saw Rose wave a hand over her board. A low hum and the crackle of electricity emitted from the teacher’s palm as the red and blue on the metal board scrambled into an unreadable mess. Focusing on the slightly dimmed warmth in her chest, Herah could tell an hour had passed since her drawing started.
Looking back to the class, the artist noticed everything cast in shimmering shadow as her classmates rose from their seats and packed up their pencils and papers. Each student stowed their materials into a variety of duffel and messenger bags, each one a unique combination of leather, color, and accessories befitting their owner. As students began to move towards one another and conversation broke out, Herah reached into her desk and pulled out her bag.
A sling-bag made from the rough hide of a boar and dyed a deep red pleasing to her eye emerged. All across, red patches depicting fire, weaponry, and metal boars were sewn in.
The artist parted the black hairs that lined the zipper, unzipped it, tossed her sketchpad and bloody papers inside, then zipped it all up. Done packing, Herah strung her bag’s single strap over her head and tightened it until the bag hugged her chest.
Moving towards the class’s exits, the artist and her peers winced and paused as two metallic rings filled the air. Looking back at Rose with her classmates, Herah watched her teacher smack her desk a third time with her two-ertèmasstick.
“I expect an essay on the key actions that Neutronas Violette and Jaune took during the last ten years of the age of Gardiens de Feu, and how you feel about the choices made and their near cause of another series of Éteindre Guerres. Remember, the shorter the better. I got three pages from a few of you last time, and I’d like to get that down to one. Also, do not call the Éteindre Guerres the Extinguish Wars on your paper. As with everything from the Old Tongue in this class, if it’s a name of an event, age, or person, you do not translate it to modern Ahcend when writing. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Feu Rose!” The small class chorused alongside the artist.
“And Herah?”
Herah locked eyes with her teacher, and found Rose’s stare sharp as always but now, hiding something.
That piqued the artist's curiosity.
“Yes, Feu Rose?”
“I ask that you stay back so we can talk.”
Herah glanced towards both Bleucend and Vertcend, the pair trying and failing to hide from her amongst the others.
“Fine, but I have two challenges to issue first.”
“Go ahead.”
The artist let a low, rumbling growl slip from her lips. Those near Bleucend and Vertcend immediately gave a wide berth allowing Herah to march up to both and jab a finger at each of them.
“Bleucend et Vertcend, pour avoir infligé des insultes grossières et lâches à ma déesse et à moi-même, je vous défie tous les deux à une Rencontre du Feux. Ce sera après l'école et dans la bague du gymnase. Je vais vous prendre tous les deux à la fois.”
Both students looked between one another then back at the artist in confusion.
Fucking heathens! Herah growled again, causing the pair to put their arms up. I forgot you idiots don’t speak Cuviebu Ahcend.
“Herah, must you use the Old Tongue? You know they don’t understand it.”
The artist huffed and glanced towards Rose, who now leaned on her desk, with disdain. Herah had a little too much pride in herself to admit forgetting that little detail, so chose to respond with another truth.
“And you know tradition states: all Rencontre du Feux are to be issued in the tongue of our creator. To do any less, especially when her character is insulted, is to welcome shame upon La Flamme’s name.”
The artist looked over all the other students with a glare and pang of disappointment.
You all bring shame upon our goddess.
“I shall do no such thing.” Herah said, more to herself than to anyone else.
Both an annoyed sigh and a shaking of the head from Rose caused the artist to roll her eyes then look at Bleucend and Vertcend again.
“However, since you’re both infidèle et imbéciles, I’ll translate: Bleucend and Vertcend, for levying crude and cowardly insults at my goddess and self, I challenge you both to a Rencontre du Feux. It shall be after school and within the gym’s ring. I will take you both on at once.”
Now getting the message in full, Bleucend and Vertcend turned visibly pale and looked at one another as gossip broke amongst the other seven students.
Message delivered, Herah walked back over to her desk and sat atop it, giving Rose her full attention.
The teacher shooed the rest of her students out and slid the blue doors closed on either side of her board. Classroom closed, Rose looked to the artist and let out a breath.
“It is never a cool moment with you around.”
“If it’s not hot, we’re not living.” Herah set her expression blank and began trying to figure what Rose could want. “How can I help, Feu Rose?”
Rose sighed again, walked over to her desk, and grabbed her two-ertèmasstick leaned against the metal. The artist watched her teacher closely as Rose walked towards her and grabbed the seat of the desk in front of Herah’s own. Turning the seat around so its back faced the artist, the teacher plopped down into a slouch.
“Always to the point.” Rose’s words felt ominous to Herah. The small grin tugging at her teacher’s lips only increased the ominous feeling.
The artist felt her curiosity rise more at Rose’s probing statement. Something more was meant to be said with them. Like the teacher searched for something that Herah couldn’t know about.
Probably to do with whatever you're hiding. But what could either be?
The artist couldn’t figure it out in the moment. And so, to learn both secrets, Herah spoke.
“Why waste time?”
“To enjoy the little things more.”
“They’re enjoyed enough.” the artist’s nostrils flared, and puffs of smoke shot from them, her mild annoyance at the small talk slipping through. “How can I help, Feu Rose?”
“Before I tell you that,” Rose raised a hand just as Herah opened her mouth, “And I don’t get to the point now because what I have to say is important, I will say I’m impressed with your self-control. I noticed you stopped yourself three times there.”
The artist felt her pride well up once again, a light blush coming to her cheeks as her posture straightened once more. Herah would never admit aloud how valued such praise felt from a respected elder.
“I accept your praise Feu Rose,” the artist felt her pride damper slightly recalling her near response to Vertcend’s last words, “However, we both know I almost lost it.”
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Rose nodded, then tilted her head to the side.
“At the last insult, but not the one before?”
Herah huffed smoke and rolled her eyes. It seemed in the time the artist had stopped causing a ruckus, people had forgotten what set Herah off and what didn’t.
“Vertcend’s opinion of me might as well be smoke.”
“Yet, you issued a duel?”
“It’s principle.”
Rose nodded at that response.
“What stopped you?” The teacher asked.
“You.” the artist responded.
Rose leaned back in and looked Herah up and down.
“Explain.”
“I used you to ground myself,” the artist said with a shrug, seeing no point in further elaboration.
“And in doing so, prevented a breach of our agreement.” Rose smiled at Herah, causing the student to reflexively grin back, “You’ve really worked hard to prevent your expulsion from this academy.”
“Yeah.”
“You really are a Cendreux of your word.”
The artist opened her mouth then paused before frowning and giving Rose a soft glare and hiss. It sounded like the teacher had been questioning her integrity.
A ludicrous thing to do.
“Yes.” Herah spoke her words sharply, feeling her inner warmth heat up. “I am.”
Rose just nodded again, seemingly unaware of her insult.
“That is part of the reason why today our agreement shall come to an end.”
The artist’s eyes widened.
Was this what you were hiding from me?
“You’re ending the Deal?”
“Yes.”
Herah frowned and crossed her arms, her focus going to Rose’s eyes. Still, they hid her true aims.
Tired of me? Want to make a new Deal? Scared? Nah, it has to be something else. But what? What are you hiding?
Having no other answers, the artist kept talking.
“What are the other reasons?”
“To win a bet for one.”
Herah raised a brow, her mood further soured at what Rose had said.
“You made a bet?”
“All the teachers did, currently got five Cuvnaidylas riding on it myself.”
The artist’s lip curled as a wave of disgust overcame her at the mention of Cuvnaidylas.
“That’s a lot of money betting on my downfall.”
Rose grinned at Herah.
“I bet on your success.”
The artist found little comfort in that.
“Not a conflict of interest?”
Rose shrugged.
“We set parameters.”
“Which were?”
“When your class caught up with the others.”
Herah’s brow furrowed thinking back on how long the Deal had been in effect. The artist glanced out the window behind her and took note of the weather. The endless ashfall of the current season, soft earlier, had turned heavy and now blotted out Morteflamme (what the Cendreux call their star).
When we made our Deal, the weather was fair. Which means—
Herah leaned back in realization before turning to Rose in shock.
“We were behind by two seasons!?”
Rose chuckled and nodded.
“Our arguments would last for weeks.”
The artist felt her mood lighten a bit thinking back on said arguments. Each always filled with passion, and an honest blast to experience. Verbal fighting could never feel better than the physical thing, but it could get close.
Herah smiled to herself for a moment at the thought. Once the moment passed, the artist went back to a neutral expression and gave Rose a nod.
“I’m not sorry.”
“I know you’re not.”
Looking at Rose’s eyes once more, Herah still saw something hidden within. And by this point, the artist saw fit to just ask directly.
“What do you want, Feu Rose?”
Rose let out a sigh, stood up, and turned her chair to face Herah proper. The teacher slid it forth to close the foot or so between the pair before sitting back down. Thanks to her height, even while seated below, Rose still had to look down a bit to meet the artist’s eyes.
Once Rose sat again, Herah instantly sensed a shift. The teacher no longer slouched, instead, her back straight and her head held high. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, and her legs crossed. Her stare turned intense and appeared to see right through the artist.
But still you’re searching for something. Herah thought while uncrossing her arms and straightening up as well. Whatever Rose wished to find; the artist figured her teacher would have to give up her goal first before truly getting it.
And then Rose spoke.
“I want to teach you, Herah.”
“You have nothing to teach me.”
Herah’s response came without thought. But even with a bit of thinking, the artist would still say the same. The realization had long since come that Noir E. Blanc academy had nothing but heresy and violence to impart upon her. And Herah was already proficient in the latter.
Rose’s eyes narrowed, and smoke flared from her nostrils.
“While I believe you my equal in the subject of history, I think there is much to be learned in differing views.”
“The wrong ones?” the artist asked.
“Different,” Rose said with grit teeth, “Neither is righter than the other.”
“I disagree.”
“And that’s okay.”
Herah growled at Rose.
“I will not open myself to heresy.”
“You should at least understand it.”
“I already do.”
“Tell me then.”
The artist didn’t immediately respond as Rose leaned back and threw her hands up, waiting.
Of course, Herah thought with a growl, You always think you’re going to catch me fucking up or doing something stupid.
The thought caused the artist to growl deeper. Her mood thoroughly soured, Herah spoke her next words rapid fire.
“Unsatisfied with the gift of life, our people turned away from La Flamme and now pursue our own worship and way of living over what our goddess gave us!”
Rose, of course, shook her head.
“That’s exactly why I want to teach you Herah, it’s not as simple as that.”
“Fuck off.”
For a moment, their conversation lulled. This allowed the artist to simmer in her growing anger and think over just what Rose was trying to do.
What’s gotten into you Feu Rose? Do you think after all this time, I’m just going to let you get in my head? Let you try and make me believe those lies you speak every day. Fuck no!
Rose’s lips parted slightly in an exasperated sigh, yellow flames licking at the air ahead of her. After, the teacher leaned in and lifted her arm to rest her chin, staring into Herah’s eyes. The artist stared back and found Rose’s gaze searching still. While what the teacher had hid was now apparent, what Rose wanted to see wasn’t.
“Herah, what do you want?”
Herah scoffed and crossed her arms again, not even needing to think of her response.
“To build weapons for the Nettoyant, to help them spread our Goddess’s love across the universe.”
“I mean past that Herah, what do you really want?”
The artist frowned at Rose, unsure of the question but knowing what to say next.
“For everyone to love La Flamme the same as I do.”
“How will you do so?”
“By fighting against everything and everyone who opposes me.”
Rose reached forward and tapped Herah above the brow with her pinky, like a mother would her child after having them tell her something stupid.
“That thinking is what nearly led to a second set of Extinguish Wars, Herah.”
The artist bared her teeth and let out a low, guttural growl. It was insulting that Rose would say that true believers willing to fight nearly led their people to civil war again.
Rose shook her head with a frown and brought her hand down from Herah’s face.
Haven’t even released me from the Deal yet, and you’re already back to old habits, Feu Rose.
With thoughts of returning to old habits, the artist’s mind went to one of her own. One which Herah had already fallen back into a few minutes earlier. Her bared teeth turned into a grin.
“If you really want to teach me, then duel me.”
“What?” Rose gritted her teeth and glared, “No! We’ve been over this before. You’re only sixteen Herah, and I’m over two hundred. With such an age difference, a fight between us is improper.”
The artist nodded towards Vertcend’s desk.
“His parents are in their millions, you’re fighting them.”
“A feu challenging enferas is fine, we’re adults even with the millions of cycles of difference. That does not stand for an étincelle,” Rose pointed at Herah “You are a child.”
The artist raised a finger and tilted her head with a partial scowl.
“Within the age of the Gardiens de Feu, and long before, a duel no matter the age of the challenger was always accepted.”
“We’re not in the past, Herah.”
“Our traditions are eternal.”
The teacher sighed and closed her eyes. Pinching her forehead, Rose rose from her seat and turned her back to Herah.
“I see right now; I won’t make any headway with you.” Rose, without looking back, raised a tight fist towards the artist, “Herah War Hej, you’re released from our Deal. You are no longer forbidden from causing trouble or creating a ruckus during my class periods under threat of expulsion.”
Herah felt her skin heat up as glowing pink letters of Cendreuxah appeared all over her body. A second later, pink steam rose from the letters as they burned away until nothing was left.
Ugh! Science, the artist thought with disgust while watching the steam dissipate with narrowed eyes, At least that heresy marks my form no longer.
“You can go about the rest of your day.”
Herah looked again at Rose move back towards her desk, probably to grade the essays that the class turned in to start the previous period. As the teacher walked away, the artist could feel her own ire rising with her temperature in tow. Rose hadn’t dismissed her like that since they had met over a cycle ago. Back when Herah was still unsure about how to feel about this stupid academy or everyone apart of it. Back when the artist picked a fight with everyone and had every teacher refuse so out of fear.
Only Rose ever did so out of principle.
That’s why Herah respected her and her alone out of everyone else within the school. Since the start of them getting to know each other, they had been at odds, but never out of hate or dislike for one another. In fact, Rose was the only person in the school who ever seemed to engage with the artist in any form. Because of that, Herah thought the pair shared a healthy respect between one another.
But today, after that mess with Pourprecend before class, Vertcend and Bleucend during, and now Rose after, the artist couldn’t help but think that maybe that respect was lost. Maybe now, everyone here thought her tamed and docile. Someone to be walked over or ignored.
That thought made Herah let out a low growl.
Today, I’ll remind you all of who you’re dealing with.
The artist hopped down from her desk and inhaled deeply. Rose noticed this and turned back to Herah just as the artist exhaled a flood of green flames. The classroom filled with fire, but nothing burned, for Herah only wished to get Rose’s attention.
“Feu Rose, pour avoir voulu m'apprendre ton hérésie, je te défie à une Rencontre du Feux. Ici et maintenant.”
Rose stood frozen; her mouth slightly agape. The artist wasn’t sure if shock alone or rage as well caused her teacher to pause, but a deep scowl told her it the rage alone made her speak.
“No, Herah. I will not fight you, end of discussion.”
“I didn’t think you a coward, Rose.”
Even with the green flames covering nearly everything, Herah easily noticed just how still Rose got. And the artist noticed, her eyes no longer seemed searching. Whatever Rose had hoped to find in Herah, was now forgotten, as only an unthinking anger showed through her expression.
“One chance.” Rose lifted a single finger, with the hand not maintaining a death grip on her two-ertèmasstick. “You have one chance to address me properly.”
“Or what, you’ll duel my parents?” the artist couldn’t feel fear while taunting her teacher. Herah knew in a fight with Rose, losing most likely. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered, right now, was getting Rose to take her seriously. “You’d pick a fight no one else here wants. But you know, you wouldn’t win.”
“Herah,” Rose lifted her two-ertèmasstick towards the artist, as blue flames started to leak from her mouth, eyes, nose, and ears, “I will not play by your games.”
“Our traditions are not games!” Herah growled out.
“They are to me.” Rose said, her words cold and unfeeling.
It was the artist’s turn to be frozen. To suffer two insults of the greatest level twice in the same day, truly a sign of no respect. To have Rose, of all people, refer to the Old Ways as games was something Herah couldn’t let stand.
“RARRGH!”
The artist’s head exploded in a burst of green flames, then jabbed a finger at Rose.
“Accept my challenge, Rose!”
SPLOOSH!
Herah looked down to her gut and found Rose’s two-ertèmasstick buried half-way into it. Before the artist could react to it fully, a pink hand grabbed the end sticking out of her front and tore the long ruler free from her body. Blinking, Herah looked back up and found Rose glaring down on her, bloody two-ertèmasstick in hand.
“Challenge accepted, child.”