In a rare respite from the gloomy melancholy that’d fallen over the student body, muted laughter and conversation drifted over the gardens of the campus.

We were solidly in the winter season now, and nothing made that more clear than the blanket of snow that now carpeted the academy. Our feet sank into almost four inches of it as Breale hauled me over towards the main building and attached chapel. Even more festive were the lanterns and bright strips of cloth now decorating the pillars and arches and the gentle sunset light they cast upon the canvas around them. Students tossed snow clumps, sung stories, and shouted chipper lyrics around seemingly every corner, making it hard to even believe that this was a country awaiting war.

It was obvious in retrospect, but I hadn’t imagined just how hard the snow could shut down a campaign. These students would have at least one normal season before the passes melted in late spring, and it was becoming clear that they’d make every use of it. Even the many festivals and traditional dances attributed to the school and Minua hadn’t been cancelled, and I had recently even begun to hear the whispers and rumours of ‘who’s’ and ‘whens’ of this or that couple that had died shortly after the battle by the gates.

For such a defensive people, they sure were good at ignoring the coming perils. But then again, I was the same way. There was no reason to get depressed over events you couldn’t control.

As if to counteract my thoughts, I spotted two posters on a nearby wall. The one on the left was for some festival next week and was decorated with bright reds and whites, but the one on the right was entirely more sombre.

“It seems a little strange to hold that now.” I said. “He must’ve been busy as hell these last few weeks.”

For that poster was emblazoned with Prince Elendri’s name and a date and place. Tomorrow, Andril would finally symbolically lay his brother to rest. Symbolically because his body was obviously still in the capital. Supposedly everyone in the city was invited to come.

It definitely had a political purpose, especially since all the nobles’ children up here were invited, but a part of me hoped that Andril would calm down a bit after it. Mourning was understandable and fine, but Minua probably needed a more stable pillar to stand on right about now.

Auro followed my gaze to the wall and bizarrely seemed to light up.

“Y-you’re going? Who are you bringing with you?”

“Wait, Saphry’s going to that?” Breale shot back a look of surprise. “I didn’t think you were the type?”

The type? To go to a funeral? I know Andril and I didn’t always get along too well, but wouldn’t I have to be a little heartless to skip it? Elendri’s death was at least partially our fault, after all.

“I mean, I would’ve presumed we’d all go together…”

“T-t-together?!” Auro made a strange sound at that.

“I’m already going with Red.” Breale shook her head.

“Can’t Fredrick go with us?”

“Ah, no.”

What could stop us from all going together? Was there some Veroline funeral etiquette I didn’t know about?

“Really? Then I suppose I’ll just go with Auro.”

For some reason, Auro’s ears went red at that, leading me to the obvious conclusion that I had completely misread what we were talking about.

“Actually, what…”

“Me?!” Auro squeaked.

“I didn’t know you went that way…” Breale said.

I stared hard at them. Both seemed shocked, as if I’d just proposed right then. Actually, what had been on that second poster?

“We are talking about Elendri’s funeral, right?”

Their reactions immediately confirmed my suspicions that I’d just agreed to something weird. Auro in particular seemed to deflate.

“Oh, of course…”

“That makes more sense…”

I sighed.

“What the heck were you two talking about then?”

“The Whitesky Festival, of course!” Breale nodded towards another set of posters we passed. “It’s going to be next midweek.”

“Oh, that? I have heard about that, now that I think about it.”

From what I’d heard… well, read actually, the Whitesky Festival was just a day where the night sky lit up with shooting stars. In more local terms, everyone would bring blankets over to the duelling yard cliff and watch as they shot over the mountains. Saphry’s memories of the event were surprisingly sparse, but from what I could gather it was exceptionally beautiful. Especially in Andorlin.

“Is that a couples thing here then?” I guessed.

“Not always.” Breale said. “But most of the time it is. You’re supposed to bring someone you love to watch it with you.”

Ah, that would explain their reactions then. I’d practically just invited Auro on a date. That probably would’ve been bad if I hadn’t caught it, though I would’ve needed the density of a neutron star not to.

Wait, she said ‘love’, didn’t she?

“And you’re bringing your brother?”

“Familial love, of course!”

“Uh-huh.”

The theme song of a particular football team began to play through my mind, only to be interrupted by a tug on my coat.

“So you’re not going?”

The owner of the tug, Auro, looked more than a little crestfallen, which I had to admit was kind of cute. It almost stirred my heart towards just agreeing to whatever she wanted.

Thankfully, my sanity prevailed.

“That? Eh, I’m not really built for that sort of thing, sorry about that.”

“Really?” Auro glanced toward the poster again, and I could almost see the light bulb pop over her head. “But… it’s required! You have to go.”

“I haven’t heard anything about that.”

“It’s true!” She glanced towards Breale. “Isn’t it?”

“That’s…” Breale and Auro locked eyes. “Actually, yes, it is. Something about ‘cultural hominization’ if I recall correctly.”

I snorted.

“Uh-huh. And this requirement wasn’t told to us at all?”

“Hosi announced it during review today, didn’t you hear it?”

“You cannot expect me to remember anything from those reviews.”

“Fair enough, but she did announce it.”

I was fairly sure that was a lie. I mean, I could literally see the gears turning. But why were they so adamant on me going to this thing? Was it funny to watch me embarrass myself?

So of course I made to call them out on it, only to catch Auro’s face once again. She wasn’t quite pouting- she was a bit old for that- but it was close enough to tug on my heartstrings. Almost immediately I felt all my desire to fight against it drain away.

“Eh, what the hell. Fine.” I looked away. “But I’m certainly not inviting anyone.”

The other two grinned at each other. Strangely, Breale began chuckling aloud.

“Heh heh heh…”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Why did I feel like I was going to regret this?

…

Reluctantly, I stepped into the Everstar chapel.

It was a beautiful room, as wide and long as a basketball court and with a roof two stories up. A lower roof hung over the wings to either side, under each of which a dozen low tables with plump pillows sat facing the pulpit. Sweeping wind chimes of glass and wood hung down like glittering stars from every edge in the rafters, occasionally twinkling like the stars they sought to emulate. At the far end facing the northward side a tall window of red and white glass displayed the piecemeal image of a star rising over a mountain. To either side of the window, small streams of water trickled down from the roof into basins. In the very centre, a largish grate was installed in the floor, through which the sound of water could be faintly heard.

There was a crisp chill to the air, though it was noticeably warmer than outside. The smell of freshly baked gingerbread was in the air. The low music of chimes and hum of conversation floated through the air, giving it a calming atmosphere.

Of the room’s tables, most of them were near full. Groups of students drifted to open seats near their friends while a middle-aged priest conversed with a guy near the back. Besides a couple more professors, it seemed like the chapel almost entirely serviced the academy attendees. To my surprise, I even recognized a handful of magic-using or ‘peasant’ students among the tables, which meant it wasn’t segregated along lines of class either.

At one of the tables near the side I could see Fredrick, though he was immersed in a book.

Upon and beside each table were copies of the holy book, a box of buttered rolls, and hundreds of strange bundles of wooden poles and crystals. I had no idea what the latter could be for, and by the way some of the students poked at them. I wasn't the only one.

Breale led us forward and sat down beside Fredrick. There was just enough room for the rest of us, and I sat down between Auro and Fredrick.

“Enchanted arrows, I think.” Fredrick said. “The fletcher probably can’t handle the new stockpile orders.”

“You’d think we’d have adequate supplies after the last war…” Breale shook her head. “Better than cram I guess”

What could they possibly be talking about? Had I missed something?

As their conversation turned to mundane military matters, I looked around the room again only to find that my eyes were drawn once again to the large grate in the centre.

It seemed to be made of steel and silver, and the bars were woven tightly enough to prevent a foot from falling through. Flowing water was definitely rushing underneath, though it sounded somewhat far away.

A grate in the middle of a church was strange, wasn’t it? It looked just like a bigger version of the grates around town too. Were they connected to each other?

The deep tolling of a far away bell snapped me away from my thoughts, and all around me people began to sit down. The priest took the stand and looked out upon us.

“Good evening. Let us take up today at page four hundred and….”

…

For all the Star’s strangeness, the church service was only slightly so.

“…and with that in mind, let us move on.”

I blinked away the tiredness from my eyes as the priest stepped away from the pulpit. Confusion washed over me as he started towards the nearest table. All the groups broke out into calm conversation as he did so, but nobody got up.

Thank god. When I’d imagined the church services here, I’d imagined hours-long sermons about the morality of light and dark and whatever, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that it had only taken ten or so minutes. Easily shorter than most of the ones I’d sat through back on Earth.

Though that brought up another question. Every week when she’d left for service, Breale had always been away for almost two hours. What took up the rest of that time? Or did she perhaps just go out for dinner afterwards?

Seeing as no one else moved, I decided to watch the priest as he went from table to table. At each one he would stop for a few minutes and mess with the objects on the table while explaining something in a hushed voice, and whenever he left the tables would erupt into some activity, but I couldn’t exactly see what was happening.

Were they building something? The church didn’t have an attached arts and crafts class, did it?

“I wonder how many others are doing arrows today?” Breale wondered aloud.

“Saint Siche’s was carving arrow shafts last week.” Fredrick said. “Most everyone is probably helping with supplies right about now.”

It took a moment for that conversation to make sense, but when it did I felt my eyes widen.

“Wait, they use the church services to make you build weapons?” I stared at them. “What the… heck kind of operation is this?”

Looking back at the bundles, it became pretty obvious now that the crystals were arrowheads and the poles arrow shafts, but it seemed like such a… blasphemous thing to do that I wasn’t sure that I was phrasing the sight correctly. How the hell did that even come about? Wasn’t this just slavery? Was the church just a huge corporation exploiting their believers for free labour under the guise of piety? And why did the people accept this?

What kind of religion did these people even have?

“Yes…?” Breale answered my question as if it were a weird thing to ask.

Fredrick was similarly amused.

“Saphry, I know you have had a rocky attendance back in the capital, but you have gone at least once, right?”

“I…”

I fell back on Saphry’s memories, but it had been many years since Saphry had attended one of these. Even the memories I did have were usually cut off before the sermon ended, with Saphry passing out before it could ever get to this point. I wasn’t sure why, but most of her early life had never been given to me, and most of her later years had seen her either too weak or too melancholic to come.

“It’s not usually weapons.” Auro took some rolls from the basket and started passing them around. Breale started nibbling on hers immediately. “Just whatever the stockpile needs done.”

“They just use us as free labour?”

There was really no other way to describe it. Just how pragmatic was this country?

“Wait, youb wer seriouhs?” Breale said with a roll in her mouth. “Are youb a heaben?”

“Sister…”

“I mean, they only produce what the city needs.” Auro explained.

“Does the church decide that?” I asked.

I could already imagine eclisearchal officials walking around taking bribes so that underbidding corporations could complete contracts they had no hope of finishing. Or could that just be the capitalist in me? It was possible the people of this world wouldn’t think of doing such a thing.

“Nor can the supplies be sold afterward.” Fredrick added. “It all goes directly into the city stockpile. Most of the time we’re just preparing food. Sometimes there’s nothing. Those are the grandest days, for it means our stockpiles are healthy and hale. It is troubling when it’s necessary, but it’s an important duty in Verol, and it certainly isn’t some crass corruption as you’re probably imagining.”

“Though it wouldn’t surprise me if the fletcher made a larger donation than normal this…” Breale paused as she caught sight of Fredrick’s glare. “Hey I’m just kidding! I’m sure he made the donation beforehand.”

“That still sounds wrong though….” I said.

Was this communism? This was, wasn’t it?

“Ah, an unfamiliar face today. Excellent.”

A new shadow darkened our table, and I looked up to find the priest peering down at us. He was a jolly-looking fellow with short white hair and wrinkled red cheeks, seeming for all the world like the most stereotypical happy grandpa.

“It was a nice sermon, father.” Fredrick said. “Though I’d admit it’s a shame that today’s construction is necessary.”

“They say war comes once a generation, when the young hear the stories of the last.” The priest shook his head. “But enough of that. Can I assume you already know how to put these together?”

“My sister and I have some experience.” Fredrick said.

“Then I’ll leave you to it. Light and luck.”

“And light and luck to you too.”

I watched him leave. All around the room, groups ate and talked happily as they worked, each one attaching countless arrowheads to be used on a battlefield far away. To me, who had always seen the church as a sacred place, it was more than a little surreal.

“Let’s start then.” Breale picked up a bundle with a small grin. “I bet Luis we’d finish more.”

…

I rested my head on the table as the other tables made to leave. In front of me, dozens of featherless arrows lay stacked in great piles. The other tables told the same story, though ours was perhaps just a little larger than most.

“You think this one counts? The head’s cracked! We’ve obviously won!”

“And who are you to decide which ones count, huh? You’ve got some nerve with how those three shafts at the bottom look.”

“As if you’d know anything about the affairs of the shaft…”

“The hell did you just say?”

Beside me, Luis and Breale argued over their bet, each trying to prove that it wasn’t actually a tie. Auro and Fredrick watched with varying interest, as did Roland and two of their other friends from Luis’s table.

The actual work wasn’t that bad, of course. It was mostly just a matter of applying some of that foul smelling glue to the shaft, forcing it into the arrow’s brace and blowing on it to seal the glue, a fact that had spawned no less than a dozen jokes from various places around the room.

No, it was only when the churchgoers had begun singing that it’d crossed the line into absurdity for me. After all, did they even realise how strange it was to sing about starlight and elder times while we were putting together weapons of war? Honestly…

“You have a lovely voice, Saphry.” Auro said. “It’s a shame you were so quiet…”

“I don’t know the words, so that’s kind of hard to avoid.” I grumbled, irritated.

I hadn’t planned on joining in, but the atmosphere had kind of demanded it. How could I be the only quiet one when Fredrick of all people was singing? By the Star, if Saphry hadn’t been a little experienced in that I might’ve died on the spot.

“If you want, I could teach you…” Auro offered.

I waved her away absently.

“I think I’ll be fine. I’ll learn. Eventually.”

I’d had enough of their ‘teaching’ back in the capital, and didn’t want another repeat of my ‘hell week’. There were more important things to worry about anyway.

My eyes drifted to the centre of the room where the grate loomed, and my curiosity bloomed again. “Actually, I did have a question though. Do you know where that grate leads? Does this place have a cave system like the one in the capital did?”

“That? No, I think that connects to the aqueduct. Why do you ask?”

I grinned.

“No reason.”

There had been an idea forming in my mind for the last hour as we’d worked, one that might just answer some questions I’d had about this place. An aqueduct leading all over the academy and town would be a very convenient place for a person to slip into, after all.

Maybe even for a shadow too.