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Diary of a Teenaged Mimic
Sister Siobhan's Book of Prayers

Sister Siobhan's Book of Prayers

Duir Twenty Seven, Y. Forty One: Oh, Canta the Beneficent, please watch over my Sisters as they travel across the river to the Yards tomorrow. In my heart I know those living there are no more prone to evil than I, but my gut still clenches at the thought of Sister Cheryl at the mercy of some Bag con man, or what might happen should Sister Auriemma unknowingly try to tell some criminal what to do. Please, forgive me my misanthropic thoughts, guide those who venture forth away from dangers they might avoid, and protect them from those they might not. Protect and guide those who would offer themselves up as Candidates for our Academy, as they seek a path more difficult than any of their ilk who have come before. As always, show me how I might best heal and avoid harm. Let it be so.

Duir Twenty Eight, Y. Forty One: Oh, my dear sweet Canta, how could this happen? So many dead. So many missing. So many... No. This is why I am here. With the power and skills you have blessed me with, I will fight in the only way I may to keep those still clinging to life alive. Perhaps, once those who still waver between life and death are no longer at risk, Headmaster Miles will find those willing and able to empower the Revival of Sister Auriemma and Librarian McGowan. He knows of your blessing, though I know not how; his orders to me on the subject were clear when I took up this post. Barring orders to the contrary, I am only to make use of that gift should a Cadet fall in training, and then only should no willing sacrifice be available in time to Revive them. Perhaps he will make exception for... but who? With such savagery inflicted on their poor bodies, at best I might be weeks recovering, and by then the rest? Would remove me from my post for months. Maybe longer.

I would do so, Lord. I would do so in a heartbeat. And... more would die while I lay insensate, those I might have saved were I awake. I now see Headmaster Miles' wisdom in this. I would spend my gifts recklessly, had he not forbade me from doing so. Thanks be to you, my lord Canta, for guiding me to this place. As always, show me how I might best heal and avoid harm. Let it be so.

Tinne One, Y. Forty One: Oh, Canta, Beneficent Lord. We've lost so many, but Cheryl. Cheryl was right. Nearly three dozen Candidates, all of whom survived the attack. Survived when some of our Cadets didn't. Forgive me for judging those poor fallen Cadets, but somehow though none nor all of them had a hope of facing a Sea Dragon, at the end of the battle all our vaunted Dan Cadets lay dead, and the bulk of our new Candidates survived. Some may try to claim they lived by hiding, but in the amphitheater of the aquarium? There is no cover to hide in.

One, a beautiful young woman who still hasn't awoken, the poor thing somehow survived in the water with the Kraken and the Dragon. I can only imagine the bravery it must have taken, with two beasts rampaging, to enter their realm. Somehow she not only survived, but did so without a mark on her. Nothing but exhaustion, perhaps some symptoms of asphyxiation, from spending too long underwater. Pardon, lord, she wakes now. May she and those like her be the worth the cost. Let it be so.

Great Canta. Such a strange girl. Orphaned, and by her parents' mismatched names more than likely born on the wrong side of the sheets, living on the streets of that hellhole across the river, yet still willing to step up and protect our City. Calling me 'nurse', although she didn't seem to mean anything by it. Trying to deny her mixed ancestry when it's stamped clear as day on her eyes and ears. Eating like... like a young woman who hadn't eaten in heaven only knows how long, afraid she might not eat again any time soon. She ate the entire chicken, left nothing but clean bones on the plate, and then only the ones too big to break apart and swallow. She must have been starving when she came to the aquarium. On top of all that, she lost all her worldly belongings in the attack.

I must admit, it confused me for a moment that she chose Diana as her Patron. I'd half expected Ares, or Hermes, or even Dionysus for some reason. Then I realized that with no family, no home? She might well have been living the life of a wild thing prior to volunteering.

Still, despite surviving on the streets of that urban wasteland across the river, despite losing all her worldly possessions, she was willing to volunteer herself to the Academy. To be forged into one of the shields that protects us, the weapons that smite those who might harm us. I Vowed then and there that I would see that so long as she sought that title, that role? I would never stand in her way, that I would support her in any way I could. Let it be so.

Tinne Eleven, Y. Forty One: Oh Canta the Beneficent, I suspect I begin to see how that girl survived. Twenty seven miles, and standing strong at the end, even before Marshall duBois has trained her. He seems even more interested in her career than I, although with how he described her behavior and testing during the staff meeting, that's not surprising. He says she has the makings of a great fighter; as I've heard that's how and why he became Marshall rather than Lord Lancaster or any of their lesser peers, I suppose he would know. Please, my Lord Canta, watch over her and guide her. Let it be so.

Tinne Twelve, Y. Forty One: Dear Canta, where would she learn English of all things? Is she an émigré from Rich Man's Port? Or perhaps further south? The other professors seem to find her knowledge of that language uncouth; it seems only Marshall duBois and I really feel she's a viable Candidate. I hope she's chosen. Let it be so.

Tinne Thirteen, Y. Forty One: Canta bless me with patience. The Marshall had the Cadets playing Squadball today. Cadet Saffron Aetos came down from the Practice Yard with a shattered nose; fortunately nothing which couldn't be fixed with a Heal Injury. All sixteen Cadets from the Saturnday Physical Training class came down before dinner, none of them unmarked. If the Marshall had any bias toward Cadet Diaz, I can't see where it helped her; when I Assessed her she'd cracked each of the bones in her forearms. She didn't whine about it, but she did seem surprised by receiving a Heal Injury. No, she seemed surprised that Heal Injury was something I could do. Then again, all the healing after the attack at the Aquarium occurred either before she woke up or after she left.

Cadet Aetos came back after dinner to pump milk for her little one. Such a dedicated mother, coming in after a day which left her so battered. I wonder if she'll be as dedicated a student? I wonder if she'll be able to be, with the burdens of motherhood added to the workload of a Cadet? I hope she will. Let it be so.

Tinne Twenty, Y. Forty One: Canta sustain my patience, lest I be driven to let the Marshall know exactly what I think of him having the Cadets playing Squadball. Yesterday he had them doing perfectly reasonable physical training; a few Cadets came down with minor breaks from falls on the obstacle course, but I suppose those are unavoidable injuries when training Heroes. Today, though... Today Cadet Diaz came down with her nose shattered. Fortunately your blessing proved enough to return it to its previous pristine condition, but if it hadn't, I hate to think how it would have impacted her. Other than being pretty and, according to the Marshall, somewhat athletic, she doesn't seem to have much going for her. Oh, Sister Cheryl says she knows some advanced math, but she just doesn't strike me as academically talented.

That might just be my knowledge that she's in two Remedial courses talking though. Hopefully those classes will help her enough that her athletic talent and whatever else Marshall duBois sees in her can carry her to graduation, or at least enough education that she'll be able to find a place in the Guards if she fails her Academics badly enough. Although now I wonder if her looks are, indeed, what Marshall duBois sees in her. He's certainly not so old as to be decrepit, and she is very pretty. Stunningly so for someone so tomboyish. I hope that's not what he sees in her, because if she keeps injuring herself, eventually she'll do something to lose that prettiness, and without the Marshall standing up for her in staff meetings, I doubt she'd even be in the Academy. So I really hope that she's got something else going for her. Let it be so.

Tinne Twenty Four, Y. Forty One: Canta lend me your grace, that I might not strangle Cadet Laurence Lancaster. Forgive me, my Lord, I know that I must not raise a hand to those under my care, yet he vexes me so. Of course, while he vexes me, he does not frighten me as much as Cadet Diaz. I was taught that Shaping Mana, even as your miracle, worked by bringing my will in tune with the world, and allowing my Mana to gently convince the world itself to take the Shape my heart desires. But Diaz... Tabitha forced her Mana upon the world, and the world bowed to her will, submissive. I shudder to think what would happen were she to do that to another person. I would say 'may it never be so', but some impulse makes me think it might not be such a horrible thing. Oh, Canta, should you wish it to happen, let it be so.

Coll Three, Y. Forty One: Canta lend me strength, she did it again. I don't know if she's accessing Franklin's Global Inspect, casting Inspect separate from the Global Spell, or Shaping something entirely of her own creation, but what I saw today. She just bent the world to her will. Such force. Such power. So little finesse. I hope Cadet Aetos remains unharmed by her. Let it be so.

Coll Eighteen, Y. Forty One: Canta protect that poor young woman. Dreaming nightly of becoming one of the Undead, lying trapped in a box at the bottom of the river. I suppose I ought report their dalliance to the rest of the staff, what with Saffron being the favorite of so many of the instructors. Frankly, though, if I can tell that the two of them are involved, any who can't probably won't understand why it's important. I suppose in some small way I ought not be surprised. I've heard opposites attract, and if there are any two more opposite than the darling of the Academy's scholars and the half illiterate problem child.

Of course, that problem child is, and I find it terrifying to acknowledge this, a High Priestess of Loki. Or, well, she seems to think she is. I suppose she might just be hearing voices, or pulling off some kind of trick, but I'm not sure someone capable of tricking others into believing they're a High Priestess of Loki is any less dangerous than a High Priestess of Loki would be. I should likely report that as well when next I speak with the Headmaster, but what and how do I tell him? 'She told me she's a High Priestess of Loki and I believe her'? That would likely call my own judgement into question, and as one of the younger staff members I'd really rather not do that. Please, Canta, guide me when I speak to him next. Let it be so.

Coll Nineteen, Y. Forty One: Thank you, dear Canta. With Loki confirming his Patronage of Cadet Diaz directly, her being his High Priestess is that much more likely. Again, it's possible it's some kind of trick, but should she be able to trick the Headmaster into believing Loki had spoken, that is no less impressive or dangerous. Of course, despite her devotion to the Liesmith, she seems dedicated to becoming a Hero of Phileo City. I can only imagine being the sole High Priestess of an Elder God will be an asset to our fair City. Please, lord, let it be so.

Coll Nineteen, Y. Forty One: Canta grant me patience. Cadet Diaz has weaponized Stabilize. Not only that, but taught Cadet Aetos how to do it, and nearly Mana burned Cadet Aetos' left arm by setting up some kind of loop. By your grace I think the damage will heal, but that young woman seems at times to be the antithesis of all that I am. With all her visits down here on Saturndays and Sundays, you'd think I'd be rubbing off on her by now. Let it be so.

Coll Twenty Seven, Y. Forty One: Dear Canta... I have no words. No words adequate. I... I knew, when I set out on this path, that I would be called upon to Revive Cadets or teaching Staff. The Boons granted me by your Priestess when I swore my oath could defray the cost, could perhaps make it easier to bear, but even so. Even so the Headmaster, the Marshall, Doctor DeLeon, and my predecessor all told me on no uncertain terms, that if one of the less valuable Cadets offered themselves for one of the more promising ones, I was not to turn that offer away under any circumstances.

It's why I'm included in the Staff discussions, I think. Why the Headmaster makes it clear which Cadets are the promising ones, the shining stars, the ones valued by the wealthy and powerful of Phileo City. Laurence Lancaster, for all his arrogance, is smart, fast, and the latest scion of a long line of Heroes. Saffron Aetos, despite all the time she devotes to her daughter, despite her middling mental Attributes, despite her destitute upbringing, has positively raced ahead of her peers academically. William Driver is, I'm told, the closest thing Camden Yards has to Laurence's equivalent. His parents are, for that poor City, wealthy, and universally respected. The young man himself is surprisingly Agile, and while he keeps his force of Personality hidden most times, I'm told it is in fact the highest among the Summer's incoming Cadets.

Then there are the others. Poor Linus Carruthers, sweet but the dimmest young man I've ever met, admitted at least in part as a favor to Guild Master McCann. Frederick Jonopolous, looked on as an English Pirate waiting to happen. Then the one who would not even be in the Academy without my filing out the paperwork in ignorance, then the Marshall seeing some spark of talent hidden to all others. Our 'least valuable' Cadet, according to everyone but the Marshall. And perhaps myself.

Merciful Canta, I curse myself for remembering to ask. Even as the words left my mouth, I prepared to sleep until you deemed my debt to you fulfilled.

And then, like with so many other things, she was there. Lying in a pool of sweat and blood, she reached out and forced her will on the world once more. "Just do it," she said. Just take her worthless, throwaway life and restore one of the Academy's shining gems. No great speech. No begging for mercy. No asking for recompense, or even the slightest bit of Glory. "Just do it." So I did. I reached into her and took what was needed. I expected perhaps to still need your Boon, to awaken and be forced to deal with another dead Cadet, one who no one cared for enough to sacrifice for. One who the cold, hard balance of the world said must be expended.

'I took what was needed'. Ha. I pulled, and an avalanche of power, of Mana answered. Almost as if she were a being of pure Mana herself, and that Mana forced its will on the world, forced my Revive to awaken Cadet Driver. Forced me to do what I did.

I wish I could believe that. That my hand was forced. By the Headmaster. By the circumstance. By her power. But... I chose to Revive Bill, to Tabitha's detriment.

I am not strong enough, not wise enough, not brave enough to become a Hero. But I have dedicated my life to helping others achieve that lofty Title. I know what being a Hero means. And that young woman, with those three words, cut through to the core of it. "Just do it." Just let her be a Hero.

The Headmaster tried to send her back to quarters, but I would have none of that. By your grace I have never experienced Soul Burn, and ought never need to. But I am told it is the most excruciating pain known to sentient beings, and yet Tabitha lay there, teeth gritted, barely whimpering. I told the Headmaster no, and placed her under Infirmary care.

I told the Headmaster no.

Perhaps rather than Cadet Aetos rubbing off on her, Tabitha is rubbing off on me. And that might not be a bad thing. Please, Lord Canta, should it be possible for me to become closer to that young Hero? Let it be so.

Coll Twenty Eight, Y. Forty One: Canta. Oh, Canta. I...

I hurt her on waking. She choked down her scream, choked down her sob, tried to claim lack of hunger.

I can't even claim to have done that much. I didn't send for food. I don't know how, but she has won the attention and care of Maenad Maid Marie. Had I no other reason to think so highly of her, that in and of itself would be a clue to her true nature. Maenads are Sacred to the God of Divine Madness, but many, especially the oldest, did not join him from desire. They were driven to him, fleeing pain so powerful, betrayal so deep, that even being torn limb from limb would hurt less. So to gain one's trust...

Marie fed her. Fed her like a child, first spoon feeding her, then delivering bite after bite with her own claws.

Then... then... I didn't see, didn't realize what she was doing until it was too late. I saw the Mana gather within her, flowing everywhere but her Soul Burned left arm. Then, before I could do aught but scream, "don't!" she imposed her implacable will on the world, on herself, on her arm. She forced her arm to move, forced Mana to flow through it in defiance of her Burn, screaming the whole time. Just to create a single scintillating line of Mana. Just to slice her bread.

Then she forced herself to eat the rest of what Marie brought her, right down to the drippings. Sobbing the entire time. I could do nothing but watch, to see her force herself to act despite the wound I could never Heal for her. I did not let my tears fall. What hurt of mine could possibly compare to hers? Marie pushed her cart with all the dirty trays out of the room. Tabitha tried to stand, and I moved to her. To help her, to stop her, I will never know, because in my clumsiness I brought my hand down on her shoulder. Her left shoulder.

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"Dear Canta." I whispered. "That... how can you do that? Doesn't that hurt?"

"Kinda fucking excruciating. Now, if we're done here, I gotta get to my fuckin' expulsion."

I couldn't believe she thought the Headmaster would expel her after her acts of valor, after her sacrifice. "Your... no, it's just an inquiry."

She laughed, bitter and harsh. "Oh, please. We both know Trease is going to finally get her wish at this fuckin' kangaroo court. Don't fuckin' blow smoke up my ass about it."

I shook my head. "Headmaster Miles wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't what? I fucking stomped on him. I left a fucking boot print on his chest. That's not something he's likely to forgive and forget."

I opened her mouth to reply, and Cadet Rider interrupted me. "Sister, the Headmaster needs you in his office."

"Let's get this shit over with."

I left, obedient to the Headmaster, hoping that perhaps if I got there first, explained what Tabitha had done, that I could nip this insanity of expelling Tabitha in the bud. I was almost out of the Ladies' Dormitory before I realized Tabitha hadn't followed. I returned to the Infirmary door just in time to hear something slam into the far side. When I tried to open it, it would not budge, like someone had put a fake handle and door on a section of wall.

Then Tabitha screamed. While trapped in the Infirmary with a Maenad. I turned to Rider. "Get the Marshall!"

Long before he arrived the screaming started in earnest. With each new scream I pounded futilely against the door, cursing myself for damning my Hero to the most painful death I could imagine. Long before the Marshall arrived and began kicking at the door, trying in vain to break it open, her screams changed pitch and timbre, like she'd given in, like she eagerly awaited the end. Then everything went deathly quiet.

I couldn't stand it. I fled. Without the Infirmary to retreat to, I followed my orders and ran to the Headmaster's office. Someone helped me into a chair, and I sat there trying not to collapse entirely into a weeping mess.

Then Tabitha marched in, picture perfect in every way, dropped to Parade Rest, and Headmaster Miles called the Inquiry to order. At which point I realized who'd helped me to my chair as he stood and, Divine Personality silencing every Mortal in the room, insisted on a full Court Martial.

I took my place at the Court table with dread filling my heart. When the Headmaster called for volunteers to prosecute Tabitha, that fucking bitch Trease stood up like her part in yesterdays' events was anything other than nearly preventing Bill's Revival. Forgive me, Canta. She vexes me so. But I almost wished she had been chosen, for her complete ignorance might have spelled Tabitha's acquittal. Instead, Hero Velazquez stood to prosecute Tabitha, and while he might not have been the expert Doctor DeLeon was, he was smart, educated, and capable of utter ruthlessness in pursuit of justice. Not a patch on his lover, the Unbending Blade of Phileo, but an opponent who far outweighed any expertise Doctor Roberts might have.

Despite Doctor Roberts' impassioned statement of support for Tabitha, fear eroded my will as I knew without doubt that he would fail, that Trease would get her way, that Tabitha would lose her place and the Academy would lose a Hero. Then a clear tenor echoed through every mind in the Yard. Objection. Standing before Doctor Roberts, Loki calmly stated, "you're in my seat."

Tabitha's Patron had come for her.

The Headmaster, Loki, and Hero Velazquez went through the list of charges, then had Tabitha describe her actions. She described everything with a flat tone, chilling when I realized she used it to describe the death of her friend, her mad rush to get him to me, even me tearing a hunk out of her Soul to Revive him. As I watched her, she winced time and time again, but paid the pain of her arm no more mind than I would a pinprick while sewing a wound shut, or the smell when cleaning a septic wound. Hero Velazquez questioned her, and she maintained that same flat, dull tone, whether speaking of intending to kill Cadet Lancaster or her struggle to get Bill to me.

Then Hero Velazquez asked her to demonstrate her new Spell, and after a moment's thought she extended a shining blade of pure Mana from her forehead. Before I could even react to that, her voice returned to the normal cadence and tones I'd heard from her before as she talked about... food. Of course. From rumors I'd heard, if anything could break her out of her deadpan recital, it would be food. Definitely a woman of intense appetites. Appetite. Like all the famous Heroes I'd read about.

Forgive me Canta, but when she described what Trease had done, how she'd tried to keep Bill and Tabitha from the Infirmary, rage licked at my heart, and when she described how she'd stomped Trease into the ground like the vermin she is, I felt satisfaction at that vicarious vengeance. I know as a Healer I should not, but I did. Please forgive me, let it be so.

Then she described exactly how a Soul Burned arm feels, from the inside, and my tears flowed at the thought that I had done that to her. And yet... and yet she still stood there, proud and straight as any blade, even moving her arm despite that Soul Burn. Just like she'd done so many times in so many ways, forcing her will upon the world, forcing it to obey her. I still had no idea why that might make my stomach flutter and clench.

Then, almost as if it didn't matter, she said she hadn't recognized my question. She didn't know what I was asking of her. But she hadn't agreed out of ignorance. She'd agreed because, as she explained, the cost didn't matter. She didn't care. Right then and there, at that moment, I realized that Cadet Tabitha Diaz wasn't just my own personal Hero. She wasn't just an exemplar of what a Hero ought be. I'd wondered at times about the will that could force itself on reality like that, at what its goal might be. But those vulgar, blunt words took those fears and burned them to ash, sprinkled them across the butterflies nesting in my stomach. "Didn't fucking care, either."

Then she bluntly told her Patron, a God Incarnate, that she didn't care if he objected to her doing so. That she would do so again, knowing she might lose his favor, knowing what pain would befall her, knowing what she risked. Beyond that, I watched as she forced her will not just on the world, but on her own Incarnate Patron, telling him that if he did not accept her judgement, he was unworthy of her.

And she was right. So help me. She was right.

The Headmaster called for several of us to testify. First Marshall duBois, then Hero Potami, then Doctor DeLeon, then me. I tried to remain as calm and demure as a Healer of Canta and Sister of the Academy is meant to be, but I couldn't help myself. As I sat, I twisted just enough to keep her in the corner of my eye, to watch my Hero, to watch over her while I spoke. I told the tale of Bill's Revival as I'd lived it, doing my best to deliver my testimony with the same self-possessed calm she had.

I... I revealed your secret Boon to me, Lord. I could not in good conscience allow my Hero to be punished for her Heroic deeds. I know that I shouldn't have. Knew that I shouldn't, that you would wax wroth with me even as I did it, but... I could not. I can only beg you to forgive me. Let it be so.

Muin Eleven, Y. Forty One: Canta be praised! For the past ten days, Cadet Saffron Aetos has returned seemingly every day, plying me with questions regarding Soul damage and the means to fix it. Of course, each and every time I had to reassure her that Soul damage does not, cannot heal naturally. Oh, if the damage is not too great, and the patient is a practitioner of Mana Shaping or some other art which exercises the Soul, function may be restored, but the scar will remain, a constant painful reminder of the trauma that injured them. Of their sacrifice. Of her... Tabitha's sacrifice.

Then, just today, she dragged Tabitha into the Infirmary. My Hero, finally returned after two weeks away, two weeks where, had not the events of the Court Martial been so indelibly seared into my memory, I think I might have believed her survival some kind of dream.

"Good Afternoon Sister Siobhan!" Saffron announced as she came through the door, dragging Tabitha along behind her.

I didn't even try to hide my joy at Tabitha's return. "Saffron! Good afternoon! I see you've brought our Heroine!"

She laughed, then humbly demurred, "nah, not till I graduate, and that's not for a while yet, I'm guessing."

I shook my head at her modesty. "Tabitha, after what you did for Bill, all without flinching, I will always think of you so, no matter what else happens."

Then she grinned wickedly at me, and those butterflies in my stomach returned in force. "Even if I turn to the dark side and seduce you?"

I... I tried to respond. Tried to banter with her as she did with me, so effortlessly playing the role of suitor, one I'd never had someone play for me before. I could only imagine it as play, because I knew, without doubt, in that moment, that were she to focus that world bending will on me, I would submit. Eagerly. Gleefully. Wantonly. I tried to respond, but in the end could only stutter out, "what can I do for you girls today?"

Saffron answered. "We were hoping you could examine Tabitha's arm again."

I shook my head at Saffron's stubborn, irrational optimism. "I will, but like I told you before, Saffron, injuries like that do not heal. Not short of divine intervention, at any rate."

I lead Tabitha to a stool and, to be sure none of the defensive properties of a Cadet's uniform interfered with my Assessment, asked her to remove her arm from her jacket and shirt. She winced slightly as she pulled her elbow free of both, but I missed if she reacted any more than that. My face warmed when I realized she wore no shift, no binding, and her revealed breast stood proud and full, nipple stiffening in the cold of the room. I ought not have reacted, I've seen plenty of breasts before, but something about the layers of muscle in her chest that underlay it, combined with the rakish grin she gave me when she saw my blush made my whole body tense in anticipation.

Taking myself to task, I bowed my head and prayed for your guidance, Assessing her arm starting from her pour Soul burned fingers. And then...

A miracle. Just above her elbow, all evidence of Soul burn disappeared. My Heroine had forced her will on the world once more. I... I felt myself torn asunder, one part of me worshipping what I suddenly believed to be a genuine Demigoddess in the making, another part of me sinking deeper with every moment into the wanton desire to throw myself at her feet and beg her to do with me what she willed. The final part, which fortunately took precedence, Assessed her arm again, receiving the same results. "Has the pain in your arm receded?"

She shrugged, and thankfully ignored how my eyes twitched to watch the interplay of muscle layered over her shoulder and what it did to her breast. "I mean, my shoulder aches a little now and then, but that could be from me carrying my arm weird from the pain. I guess my upper arm is hurting less? But my elbow still tries to convince me it's burning itself to ash every time I bend it. Or straighten it. Or put any weight on it. Or use it in any way. Or anyone touches it."

I... I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to fall at her feet and worship her. I wanted to sing hymns of praise to her gorgeous hazel eyes, to speak words of longing to her smile, to scream... to scream for her... The ceiling spun into view, rushed away from me as blackness took me.

I came to on an Infirmary cot, her arm holding me away from the enchanted pillow. Her left arm.

"Sister, are you all right?" she asked.

What else could I say? "Miraculous."

Saffron dragged her paramour away. I didn't blame her, because I'm certain my desires were writ plain on my face. I only hoped she would forgive me my urges, since I seemed incapable of acting on them. "Sorry to leave so soon, Sister, but we've got to get going." She glanced at Tabitha, wry humor clear on her face. "Before something just happens to make us late meeting Doctor Roberts."

I had no idea why, but I realized just then that not only was Cadet Saffron Aetos aware of my desire, it amused her. Not the mocking amusement of one who felt their position in their lover's arms to be unassailable, but the amused camaraderie of someone who felt the same way about Tabitha as I did. I... have no idea if that was her intent, or if my own desire made me hear things that weren't there. I can only beg that you guide me in this, dear Canta, that my actions neither embarrass you nor hurt either of those young women under my protection. Especially Tabitha. Let it be so.

Muin Thirteen, Y. Forty One: Canta grant me patience. The Marshall allowed them to duel with live steel. Cadet Aetos, who despite her academic brilliance is still smaller than I am, against Laurence Lancaster, who has trained in the use of a sword since he could walk. It's a miracle that she escaped with a slash to her arm and another cut on her hand. Of course, I cannot think that Tabitha would let Saffron fall after spending herself to Revive Bill. I hope never to find out. Let it be so.

Muin Nineteen, Y. Forty One: Dear Sweet Merciful Canta! Saffron's Grandmother has been viciously attacked, stabbed and slashed. I've Healed her, of course, and even now she sleeps and should make a full recovery.

To my shame, when Tabitha raced in with her wearing nothing but a single long swatch of silk that barely hid her intimate regions, I hardly noticed the poor old woman in her arms. When she grabbed my face and pulled me to her, my first thought was that she was about to will all my fanciful daydreams about her forcing her will on me into reality. I realized right then that while we'd spoken so many times, even that first day when she arrived at the Academy she'd never really focused herself on me before. Under the power of her focused will, I nearly lost myself right then and there.

Then her hands dropped away from my temples and she barked, "Grandma Aetos is in Critical condition. Someone's kidnapped Saffron's daughter Isnomi." My cheeks heated, and I could not tell you whether shame or frustration caused it. "I'm going to get Isnomi back. Tell somebody else if you're not official enough."

Then she was gone, as fast as she'd come.

Merciful Canta, please let her find Saffron's little one safe and sound. And forgive me for seeking vengeance, but should whoever savaged Saffron's grandmother have harmed a child? Lend her the strength to do unto them as they deserve. Let it be so.

Muin Twenty, Y. Forty One: Dear Canta, someone attacked Cadets Driver and Mac Conno. I know not who, because Cadet Driver collapsed immediately after arriving at the Infirmary. The burns... I've only seen such heat, such damage from Dragon fire, and even that didn't have this kind of focused intensity. He'd Stabilized her arms after he'd done the same for her. I've done what I can to preserve them, but my Healing is not sufficient to reattach them. It isn't even sufficient to do more than stop the bleeding of her stumps, of the burns on her chest and Cadet Driver's. I've tried. Oh, Dear Canta I tried, but I could not. Saffron's Grandmother had to wake me where I collapsed when I depleted my Mana trying.

I've placed them into Healing Comas, but...

Dear Canta, I... am insufficient. Please, I beg of you, I will pay any price, but... help. Please. Let it be so.

Muin Twenty-One, Y. Forty One: Praise be to Canta the Merciful and Generous and... Praise be to my Hero, Tabitha Diaz.

For the past day I'd knelt, praying for your intervention, hoping against hope that somehow, despite my inadequacy, you would see fit to help the poor mauled Cadets.

And then, shortly after I felt the subtle ebb and flow of Mana as the sun set, the Infirmary door opened, and She was there. "What happened to them?"

I croaked out, "Someone attacked the Equinox celebration at the Moon Temple. Bill dragged Angel back here before collapsing."

For some reason guilt colored her voice when she asked, "Are they... dead?"

"No. They're in Healing Comas."

Then she ripped my heart out and stomped on it when she asked, "Can't you Heal them?"

I shook my head. "I already have. The damage... Horrific. I poured every ounce of Mana I had into them, but this is the best I could do."

"Her arms?"

"Bill brought them back. He'd Stabilized them, and Angel herself. I've put them under a Stasis spell, but..."

She looked me directly in the eye and with three words forced Hope into me. "Bring them here."

I retrieved Cadet Mac Conno's savaged arms and handed them over. She took them from me, then looked at Saffron. "Clear the room. Wait in the hallway."

I desperately wanted, no, needed to see Tabitha force her will on the world, to make things right, but somehow Saffron had me outside of the room before I could think to protest. In the dim hallway I saw the light around the Infirmary door wink out, then... Earlier I'd felt that subtle Mana flow of sunset, but now a veritable hurricane of Mana rushed past, rushed into the room, and the pure light of Mana being Shaped flickered around the edges of the door. Something... something that felt vaguely like what I imagine your own Heal Injury might feel echoed through the door. A moment later Tabitha opened the door, shoved Cadet Mac Conno out with her arms attached. Then, while I frantically Assessed her and discovered that, other than superficial scarring, she was physically healthy in every way I could Assess, it all happened again.

Then Tabitha ushered us all back into the Infirmary. I stared, unashamed, at the Demigoddess before me, who had done what only a Divine messenger could possibly do. Inflicted her will upon the world, remaking it as she desired it to be. In so doing, fulfilled my oaths when despite all my efforts I could not. Just as I'd begged you to do, to send someone to do for the past day.

Saffron's Grandmother asked, "How?"

Tabitha shrugged, dismissive of her own miracle, "I've got a stupid amount of Mana to spend. I spent it. All of it." She paused. "Well, all I could push into the Spell, at any rate."

I hadn't even realized she knew Heal Injury. "When did you..."

She cut me off. "We came in here hoping you two could be witnesses."

I stood there, confused. A moment later Cadet Driver barked out a brittle laugh as he said, "I wondered when you two would get around to it."

Then Saffron's Grandmother walked over to Tabitha, pulled her chin around and stared her in the eyes. They stood there like that for a while, then she walked over to Saffron, took Isnomi from her, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her over to Tabitha, placing Saffron's hand in that of my Heroine. Then unexpected envy filled me to overflowing when Saffron looked up at her and said, "Tabitha Diaz, do you take Saffron Aetos as your wife, to have and to hold, to nurture according to your nature, to love and never leave, no matter the trials and tribulations, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And I, Saffron Aetos, take you, Tabitha Diaz, as my wedded wife, to have and to hold, to nurture according to my nature, to love and never leave, no matter the trials and tribulations, for as long as we both shall live." She looked up at Tabitha and said, "it's customary at this point to kiss your bride."

They did. Oh, Canta, did they ever. And oh, Canta, despite all my Vows, did I wish I was Saffron Aetos.

When they came up for air a long while later, Saffron dangling with both arms around Tabitha's neck, Saffron announced, "I now pronounce us married."

At that point the incongruity hit me. "Saffron? Did I miss something? When did you become a Priestess?"

She giggled and turned to face me, winking. "Shhh. It's a secret to everyone."

I don't know how, but somehow she conveyed to me with that wink, that smile, and that simple statement that she might share that secret with me if I wanted. Perhaps it was my own wishful thinking. But as heat rushed to my face, as my heart hammered in my chest at the thought of my Demigoddess' wife... gifting me to her, all I could do was stumble to one of the Infirmary cots, grinning like an idiot as fantasies of the Demigoddess you sent to rescue me from my own failure imposing her Divine Will upon me, taking me as her Reward as was right and just and good.

I think she set Saffron's Grandmother to watch me, but I'm not certain. My face burned as hot as the fuzzy images in my mind, and as Tabitha herded the other Cadets out of the room, Saffron took half a moment to glance at me, one eyebrow raised. And she smirked as if she could see every desperate need kindling within me laid bare. I don't know if the tilt of her head as she turned away, as Tabitha pulled her out the door, was my own fevered imagining or a promise for the future.

I do not know if she wants me. I do not know if her wife would share her with me. If not, then it will be my honor and privilege to Worship her from afar, second only to your own Glory, Great Canta. But if so. Oh, if only it could be so.

Please. Let it be so.