“Cannot those damned buffoons keep it down? This is an institute for higher learning, not a party house.”
“It’s really not that bad.”
Cartalis huffed. The noise really wasn’t that unbearable, she was forced to admit, but when she was trying to go over flash cards with Arenya, untoward distractions such as this were frustrating to say the least. She kept losing track of which of the various piles of cards was which, repeating cards she’d already asked or skipping ones she thought she had.
The sound coming from the room two halls down in the Da’at building was quite bizarre, though. It sounded musical, in a manner of speaking, but with an underlying harshness that Cartalis could not describe. Perhaps it was something else, but it was a bit hard to tell, muffled as it was by a few walls between here and there.
“Why don’t we go talk to them?”
The Fiery One whispered into Cartalis’ ear. That she should go there and scream at those students even louder than they did whatever they were doing in there, to give them a piece of her mind so hard that they would never dare to bother them again.
As though The Fiery One had not gotten Cartalis into enough trouble by now. Cartalis stamped the urge down, though a flicker of anger escaped regardless. “You think they’ll listen to us? They don’t care about anyone except for themselves.”
“Well, if you refuse to switch to another table further away, what else should we do? I don’t like seeing you this annoyed.”
Arenya’s suggestion to change locations wasn’t a bad idea, truly, but it was the principle of the thing. The studious ones such as she shouldn’t be forced to dance to the whims of the partiers! So Cartalis insisted, at least, though she knew she was just being her stubborn self.
“You can stay here if you want.” Arenya stood. “I’m going in.”
And with all the blind confidence that only someone with Arenya’s naivete and innocence could have, she walked straight towards the door from which the sounds emanated.
Cartalis sighed, smoothed out her skirt, and then followed her.
Yes, her skirt. Somehow, somehow, Arenya had talked her into wearing a skirt today, something she hadn’t done in over a year. Her attempt to wear trousers and appear less ladylike didn’t succeed in reducing the number of “heartfelt declarations of love” much, but she’d grown so used to them by this point that her legs felt strange in a skirt now. She had to be far more mindful of how she sat, as well - the skirt was long, but she’d grown used to arranging her legs however she wished, Today would probably be the last in a while she wore a skirt, but even she was forced to admit that Arenya’s taste was good - she did look rather fetching in it, if she did say so to herself.
The sound stopped a few seconds after the door to the room opened. Those few seconds were enough to make out a cavalcade of clanging noises, as well as a raspy growling sound. Even from behind, Cartalis could tell Arenya’s eyes widened at what she saw. Cartalis mentally prepared herself to see something boorish, took one more step, and…
What.
WHAT.
Nothing could have prepared her for this.
The room was, well, not a mess, precisely. Most of the chairs had been pushed out of the way, leaving a large space throughout the far half of the room. There were a number of cans of alcohol strewn near the perimeter of that space not terribly hard to clean the area.
That was, of course, disregarding the absolutely bizarre array of instruments that had been placed within that far half. Cartalis noticed the sheer confusion on Arenya’s face - Arenya wasn’t familiar with what modern magitechs had managed to do with music, evidenly, but Cartalis could at least recognized the mana-amplified guitar and bass. The drum set, however, was a chaotic collection of components, seemingly too large for any one person to be able to reach from one side to the other while sitting mostly still. Nevertheless, they were managed by but one person, from what Cartalis could tell.
The trio of students here looked… eccentric? No, that was too kind a word for them. One was pale, with a vague bluish tint to his skin. His eyes were a mixture of red and almost black and his hair dark as night. He wore ripped pants and a short-sleeved shirt that showcased a tattoo on his upper arm.
Next to him stood a woman holding another instrument. Cartalis found the veil over her face to be ironic, given the rest of her “outfit” consisted of barely more than a strap of fabric about her chest and a skirt. She was tall and wispy, but with a surprising amount of muscle on display. She stood before a microphone, and only with a small amount of shock did Cartalis realize that the growling mostly likely emanated from her.
The one in back, sitting by the drums, looked modestly dressed in comparison, though not in general. Her green dress ended disquietingly high, and the straps of the dress were down to show her full arms. Curiously, her dress wasn’t the only green thing about her - her hair had a tinge of emerald to it. It was not like Arenya’s vibrant blue locks, though, as this was slight enough that Cartalis wasn’t certain whether or not it was merely a trick of the light.
And all three now stared at them, each with a mixture of surprise and amusement in their eyes.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“Ah, it’s Apple Girl and the Blond Ice Queen!” shouted the veiled student. “So, Apple Girl, how’d you manage to convince her to hang out with you?”
“Umm…” said Arenya. “It just kind of happened.”
The Fiery One seethed, begging to be let out against these students. Dare make such a ruckus at night? Dare call her the Blond Ice Queen to her face? Dare insult Arenya, one too naive to realize what they were doing?
“Uhh… We were trying to do some studying, and wondered if you could keep it down a little.”
Cartalis shook her head no at Arenya, but Arenya either didn’t see, didn’t understand, or didn’t care.
“What, our rockin’ was too much for your delicate ears?” That was the woman on the drums. She stood and stretched in - Cartalis looked away.
The Fiery One begged, she screamed, she sobbed. Cartalis held her back. “This is a misunderstanding. We entered the wrong room. Yes, Areny-”
“Hey, Apple Girl! I’ve got something for you!”
Cartalis turned back. While she’d been looking away, The pale one had been rummaging around in a bag. He pulled out a large, smooth-skinned apple.
Cartalis saw red. The degree of the insult… she couldn’t even fathom it.
“Figured you might want this, given you’re such a big fan of the things.”
Damn what her family would say. Damn the professors and the repeated talks they’d had with her about her so-called outbursts.
“I mean, you love them so much, I bet you have a couple under your dr-”
Arenya leaped forward, flapping her wings once, moving at an incredible speed. Her feet literally did not touch the ground for over a second. She landed just in front of the pale one, grabbed the apple from his hand, and uttered a few words in the language she always spoke in before eating.
“… Peri ha-etz!” Arenya bit into the apple. “Oh, this is such a good one!” she said with her mouth full. “It’s a bit more tart than the ones my family normally carries, but it’s really good. So much better than the ones the school carries. What breed is this? Do you have any seedlings I can send back to my family?”
Cartalis’ mouth hung wide open. Everyone in the room stared at Arenya in some amount of shock.
Two more bites in, Arenya paused. “Umm, is everything all right?”
And that was all Cartalis could handle. She fell to the floor, legs splayed out, laughing harder than she had in months. “You fools!” she cried, holding her stomach and failing to point at the trio. “You… insult…” She paused, trying and failing to catch her breath. “You insult my friend, and it blows up in your faces just as you deserve… you buffoons…”
Arenya crouched down and… held her hands by Cartalis’ legs? “You said you didn’t want to show anything…” she said.
Cartalis blinked, trying to ascertain what she meant by th…
She was wearing a skirt.
She had fallen on the floor, legs wildly splayed, and she was wearing a skirt.
That Arenya was now holding tight on the ground.
Cartalis began laughing even harder than before. “You need not be concerned,” she gasped. “I can handle… myself…”
It took over two minutes for Cartalis to regain control of her faculties. By the time she managed it, Arenya had somehow managed to strike up a somewhat cordial-looking conversation with them. The pale one walked up to Cartalis as she stood.
“Hi,” he said, before sighing heavily. “We’re sorry. You’re right, we did look like idiots there. The name’s Drav. That’s Zelzad,” he said, pointing at the veiled one, “and the girl on the drums is Ya’el.”
Arenya visibly perked up at the mention of Ya’el, though Cartalis couldn’t say why.
Cartalis noted with some surprise that The Fiery One was sated. Arenya’s ability to cut the tension so bluntly truly was something to behold, and it led to some amount of… calmness? Cartalis hadn’t felt that in quite some time.
“It is nice to meet you,” she said. “Pray tell, what is it that you are doing here?”
“They’re a band,” said Arenya, as though that wasn’t obvious. “They told me they play some kind of music called ‘metal’. I’ve never heard of it.”
Cartalis hrmmed. “I have heard bits of pieces about the genre. Mostly that it is burgeoning in some underground subcultures, but not likely to achieve a large appeal.”
“Could I stay here while you play a song?” asked Arenya.
Cartalis’ jaw dropped. Despite all the strangeness that this undertaking had come to, their goal, ultimately, was still to get them to be quieter. And now Arenya wanted them to play more? Mayhaps her friend had truly gone mad.
“Sure,” said the veiled woman - Zelzad, though something in the back of Cartalis’ head suggested that was not her real name. “After that, we’ll probably wrap up. It’s getting late.”
“Oh, screw that!” The one on the drums started to stretch. Her dress began to - Cartalis looked away. “The night’s still young - you’re only saying that ’cuz -”
“Shut up, Ya’el,” said Zelzad, without even turning to look at her.
Arenya and Cartalis exchanged a glance, but Ya’el just laughed. Cartalis got the distinct impression that their friendship was formulated upon statements such as this.
With little hesitation, the trio began to play.
The song, if one could call it that, was something of a sonic wave hitting them at full speed. Cartalis didn’t know the first thing about music, but she knew that it generally didn’t sound quite so… aggressive. Or loud, for that matter. Cartalis had thought it difficult enough with the wall and door between them, but when in the selfsame room, that impression was magnified tenfold. Cartalis was able to appreciate the talent on display, however, even if she did everything in her power to pretend not to. Drav and Zelzad knew how to play off each other’s vocals and instruments well, and Ya’el jumped back and forth with speed beyond anything Cartalis could expect.
Arenya’s eyes sparkled with such enjoyment that Cartalis had never seen on her. When she began to try and dance, only to trip over herself from keeping up with the oppressively fast beat, Cartalis helped her up and then turned away out of a sense of vague embarrassment - though she couldn’t help but peek from time to time. Arenya looked like she was truly having fun… Something Cartalis realized with a start she wasn’t sure she’d seen before.
As the song concluded, Arenya almost fell over, breathing heavily. Cartalis barely managed to keep her face neutral.
“You should come by again!” said Drav, grinning wildly. “Next time we see you, I’ll bring some more apples. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were having so much trouble getting food. Shoulda known.”
Arenya smiled. “Thanks.”
As the two of them headed back to their seats in the hallway, Cartalis noticed that she felt… calm. Excited, but calm at once. The Fiery One, that beast within her that always reared its head and snapped at those she drew close to, had … had retreated? When was the last time that had happened? Was it just the sheer incongruity of what had just happened, or…
Cartalis held back a sigh. It didn’t matter. She had to keep herself rigid, lest she once again invite unwanted attention.
So she sat down by the table, grabbed the pile of flash cards, and pretended her mind was not awash with doubts. “That was certainly an… interesting sequence of events. Let us proceed apace. So, tell me, Arenya, what is the integral of the cosine of X with respect to X..?”