Arenya stared at the papers in front of her. Cartalis insisted they study, even though it was break - something about how the next semester was going to be far tougher and they couldn’t afford to let their guard down. She was probably right, but Arenya couldn’t focus. Not after… well.
The equations seemed to swim in front of Arenya’s eyes. Nothing made sense. She was never that good at mana chemistry anyway, theoretical or applied - but this was far worse than anything she’d seen before.
Eh, who was she kidding - no, it wasn’t really much harder. She just couldn’t focus.
Arenya lay her head down on the table and sighed.
“Here is the tea you reque-” Cartalis stopped in the doorway, two mugs of tea in hand. She paused for a few moments.
“Are you all right, friend?”
Arenya said nothing, but she did raise her head from the table. Cartalis looked… embarrassed? There is truly a first time for everything.
Cartalis placed a mug next to Arenya and looked away. “I apologize for that display. I lost control, and… you see.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Arenya picked up the mug and took a long drink, barely caring about it almost burning her tongue. “It was mine.”
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The Great Feast had been excellent. She’d been greeted happily, plenty of part- and even full-dragons present, along with many other followers. Each step had been followed in perfect detail, and Arenya took each opportunity to explain the minutiae to Cartalis. Even Ya’el seemed to be having a good time. Despite her frustration at how long it took to get to the food, when everyone started playfully hitting each other with leeks, she broke into a wide smile and joined in.
When the meal finally began, Arenya heaped her plate with food and dug in.
“What is this event here?”
I shouldn’t have answered that woman.
She’d gone outside for a breath of fresh air partway through the meal, when an elderly lady peering through thin spectacles stopped her. Well-dressed, a bit chubby, in light blue trousers and a shirt so vaguely beige that Arenya’s eye passed over it, as though unable to register the color in her head. Iron-gray streaks of hair ran through the woman’s braid. Still, she looked friendly enough - a slight smile, almost excitement at seeing someone from the Great Feast.
Putting on her friendliest smile, Arenya stopped and turned to The Bespectacled Woman. “It’s a Great Feast. There’s one every year. All of us who follow The One Above are united today to celebrate the day we were released from captivity.”
The woman’s confused expression focused squarely on Arenya’s… shoulder? Arenya gave her wings a light flap. Indeed, The Bespectacled Woman’s eyes followed them.
“Ah, like the Banquet of The Six!” The Bespectacled Woman exclaimed after a quiet moment, eyes lighting up.
Arenya suppressed a sigh. “No, actually. I’ve heard a lot of people say that The Six had a Great Feast, but that isn’t true. Great Feasts don’t have anything to do with The Six. We follow The One Above alone.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. She looked… not stunned, at least so far as Arenya could tell. But disquieted. “What about The Six? Do you follow them too?” There was a slight note of hesitation in her voice.
“No, we don’t. We don’t worship The Six.”
The Bespectacled Woman’s look of horror was burned into Arenya’s vision. “Y-you don’t… How is that possible? I swear I’ve met others who say they follow both The One Above and The Six.”
“We just don’t.” Arenya could only shrug in frustration. “We believe in just one God. The God of all things, who created the world, who freed the ancient dragons from our captivity, and who bids each of us, no matter our heritage, to be righteous. I’ve heard of a group who considers The Six to be deities as well, but that isn’t common.” If she’d made at least one good decision that evening, it was her being smart enough not to mention that she and Ya’el both cringed at those so-called Followers, and had been cracking jokes about them on the way here.
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“Oh dear…” whispered The Bespectacled Woman. The expression on her face was beyond surprise, reaching genuine fear. She looked deep into Arenya’s eyes and said, voice quivering, “I hope you can still be saved from the wrath of the Infernals.”
Arenya felt her pulse quicken. Whether in anger or fear, she couldn’t tell. “We don’t believe in the Infernals. Not in the same way as you do, anyway.”
“Of course you don’t.” The Bespectacled Woman looked over her glasses at Arenya. She wasn’t angry. Arenya would have preferred that. Instead the woman was unsettled, yet somehow calm. “You wouldn’t be able to act the way dragons do if you believed in them.”
How did she respond, again? “What do you mean, act the way dragons do? We behave righteously. We walk as humble servants in the path of The One Above, and always strive to be our best selves.”
She recalled with a grimace her next line.
“I know, The Six preach that you should always forgive, no matter the sin. But the Overseers had kept us in captivity for centuries. The Fall of the Overseer was sad, but necessary.”
“I’ve read The Fall of the Overseer,” said The Bespectacled Woman. "So much brutality and selfishness.
“That kind of selfishness is why dragons sit on their hoards of money in their caves, counting their gold. It’s because of your texts, not balanced by the teachings of mercy and forgiveness.”
The years on the farm.
Arenya’s hand clenched as she sat there in the study room, thinking back on that day.
The countless hours toiling to make ends meet.
Her eyes began to fill with tears even now.
The years spent saving, and saving, and scrounging each coin to afford to go to the Academy of Adventurers.
Arenya bit her cheek so hard she tasted blood.
The promise to earn the life her parents hadn’t been able to, to send back money when she graduated and become a true BladeMage.
The countless pressures she faced, that other students went without, for Arenya knew that to let her grades slip one bit would be to cost her the scholarships, and the opportunities, she’d worked so hard for.
All thoughts of an objection simply blew past her as she stared, wordless, at The Bespectacled Woman. Her words were a physical blow greater than any battlefield wound.
The two of them simply stood there in silence. How long, Arenya was never able to tell.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a head of dark blond hair and a dark suit top. “I think my friend is looking for me. I should probably get back.”
“Good luck,” said the bespectacled woman as Arenya turned to Cartalis. “I truly hope you all get your chance to be saved.”
Cartalis led Arenya back to the feast room. Her plate remained there, piled with food. Arenya took a bite. The taste was muted.
“What took you so long?” asked Ya’el when Arenya sat down once again.
“She was conversing with some strange character,” said Cartalis. “What was that she said? May you be ‘saved’?”
Arenya toyed with the food on her plate. “She was saying Followers are violent and dragons hoard their gold.”
“Well, we kinda are, aren’t we?” Ya’el gave a goofy smile.
Arenya glared.
Ya’el quieted down.
Cartalis stood. She turned toward the entrance.
Arenya had a vague premonition of what might happen, and suspected she should probably try to stop it, but was too upset to care.
With each step, Cartalis seemed to grow firmer and colder.
“Oh, snap,” muttered Ya’el. “She’s bringing out the Blond Ice Queen. You might wanna take cover.”
“What did you do to my friend!”
The entire room went dead silent.
Cartalis launched into a stream of insults and curses so vile that Arenya had never even heard of half of them. Most of it was frankly incoherent, but “Arela’s areolas have more sense than you, you Benab-brained Xelax-addled moron!” was a line Arenya wasn’t going to forget any time soon. One thing was for sure, though - if she could be heard this clearly while standing outside the building, chances were that the entire neighborhood had just been awoken.
Several minutes later, a panting, exhausted Cartalis slipped back into the room and collapsed into her chair. Wordlessly she began eating her dinner once more.
About a minute passed in utter silence.
Ya’el broke the silence. “Yo, that was awesome!”
That got a few chuckles from the room, but everyone was slow to return to their meals.
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Arenya sipped at her tea. “I mean… will I even be allowed back after that?”
“Of course you will! No part of that incident was your fault. That bizarre bears the bulk of it. And…” ‘And me’, was the unstated addition.
“Perhaps,” admitted Arenya. “But still… I was so excited. That was my first Great Feast away from home. Having… that happen wasn’t in my plans.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their tea. Cartalis looked bashful, but seemed hesitant to apologize a second time. Arenya longed for a decent snack, but she was stuck with rice and fastbread for a few days longer.
And she was out of decent apples. It wasn’t the same as home.
This was going to be a rough break.
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Glory to the Seventh.
She’s always been overzealous, that one. What did she do this time?
Tell me you’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.
She doesn’t understand The Seventh or our tenets well at all, I am afraid. When in the right place, she can capably convince people to learn some teachings, and eventually see that The Six is incomplete. But she should never, ever be given free rein, or she will simply make a fool of herself. Tell me who gave her this freedom - they will receive a stern talking to.
I am afraid to ask, but fine: How does it get stranger?
Her? Again?
This Arenya girl… She is an enigma. I am beginning to sense that she is important, or at least has a knack for showing up in the right places.
Have him write her a letter. We will edit it and send it. Mayhaps we can learn more.
Glory to the Seventh.