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17: Recruitment (4)

Day two, for the... hmm, how many times had he repeated this since returning with Maelstrom? Dozens? He wasn’t keeping track.

Jair repeated his exercises and traced out his spell imprints with painstaking precision. His body hurt, his head throbbed, his soul ached, all stretched and strained by everything he'd been putting himself through.

He’d done it all before and would do it all again.

The tiny voice whispering that he should give up, that it wasn’t worth it, he utterly rejected. He’d proven it wrong time and again. No reason to stop now.

Getting Irres on board was simple as long as he could project genuine passion and confidence. Jair tried once just going through the motions, but the man was far too perceptive. If he sensed any attempt at deception or hint of insincerity, he’d revert to his standard policy of non-involvement.

Derall required more effort. Even knowing what to say and how to say it, if he didn’t put in the effort to ace her essay assignment she’d put him off or send him to Larenok.

He spent another several loops trying different permutations of his recruitment spiels, he’d really hoped to get at least one or two more, but it grew increasingly obvious that this was the best he could hope for.

Their fights went marginally better now that he’d adjusted his diagrams to account for the third member of the group. They were able to get down to twelve seconds away from success, but nothing they tried moved it any closer. That stupid dragon put absolutely everything into killing Ran, regardless of how much damage they did. As soon as it thought he could escape it tried even harder.

Jair had no idea what degree of grudge was necessary for this level of obsession, but it wasn’t something easily rectified.

The rest of the teachers weren’t going to be swayed, he’d tried enough times to be confident of that. If he were to follow his original plans, he’d now start recruiting among the students.

Jair and his classmates never got along, to put it mildly. Apart from Ran, everyone at the Institute either avoided associating with him or actively participated in maintaining his outcast status.

The smart ones stayed out of it, not wanting to risk alienating House Serin's future ruler over something as petty as class-training rivalries - at least up until Ran’s untimely death.

Then there were those like Lian, who would come right out and beat him to within an inch of needing a healer, remorselessly.

Most lay somewhere in between.

Korin Rhebina, who he’d blackmailed into leaving him alone the first day, had a number of family members available to the highest bidder. He could play up his sending her away as protecting her from the destruction he was about to unleash, get her to put him in touch with her immediate branch.

Clan Rhebina was scattered enough that even after so long Jair could only be confident of a fraction of its members and locations. They were definitely one of the better options in this situation.

The Teretho connection was something he’d never had a chance to explore this early. Depending on how much Lian told his father and how much Kyson heard from rumors, Jair’s position there could be very different than it had been historically. He may have to redo day 1 if he wanted to fully utilize that particular option, but at the moment he cared more about having Lian and company out of his way than any potential gains from one family. The ability to move freely for the week without fear was more valuable right now.

But even thinking over the options was an exercise in frustration.

The thought of Firdon’s stone magic kept nagging at him, the path through Larenok to potential victory. Fifteen more seconds. That’s all they needed. Tear up half the academy, drown the dragon under stone, hold it down just long enough.

It would be so easy. Yes, he’d have to survive whatever insidious plots the headmaster might concoct, but that was a price he was willing to deal with. If it meant he could finally get past this eternal loop of despair and loss, finally move forward into the new possibilities he'd fought and bled so much to earn, then he would take the consequences.

Jair didn't hide his drawings this time as he sketched out the fight with himself, Irres, Derall, and the dragon.

When Ran came in to invite him to lunch he found Jair sitting in the middle of a sea of art, Maelstrom pulsing silver as it lay across Jair's lap, Jair's eyes gleaming with manic light as he moved on through the next scenario.

"Are you... a seer?"

Jair blinked up at him, eyes wide and haunted. He lunged at his friend, Maelstrom clattering to the floor behind him, and hugged Ran tight.

"I saw-- I saw your death," he whispered, choking on the words. He didn’t have to feign any of it, only release what he ordinarily kept tightly locked away. "Again and again and again. No matter what I did, you always die, it's inevitable, unavoidable--"

Ran patted his back, holding him with a sort of stunned calm, like it hadn’t fully sunk in yet and his brain was away trying to process it all while his body went on trying to comfort his friend.

"I think we should go to the headmaster,” Ran finally said. “This isn’t something we can deal with ourselves, I assume.”

Jair nodded, drawing back, suddenly businesslike. He grabbed all the pages, shuffling them together into a coherent narrative, touched Maelstrom and raised two fingers to his forehead, transitioning the weapon back into his soul, then nodded to Ran. "Ready."

"I think it would be better if you let me take those," Ran said, reaching for the papers. "Larenok and you don't exactly get along."

Jair surrendered the pages without protest.

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Ran didn't waste any time, leading them straight to the administrative building. Larenok wasn't in his office at the moment, having gone out for lunch, so Jair and Ran set up an appointment with the secretary and sat in the waiting room to be ready whenever he returned.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" the headmaster sneered at Jair as he walked past, but they only followed him to his office.

Larenok glanced at the schedule, glowering when he saw that they were in the right, but signaled for a second chair to be brought in and offered them entrance with ill grace.

Ran sat stiff and straight, clutching the oversized papers close to his chest. Jair sat back, relaxed but not ostentatiously so, letting his tension overflow into hands tense on the arm of the chair.

"What is it that you've come here to say?" Larenok demanded.

"I've had a vision, sir." Ran stepped forward at once, placing the stack of pages on the headmaster's desk.

"What's this?" Larenok began paging through the diagrams, his eyebrows furrowed. "An art project?"

"There's a dragon coming to eat me, sir. I'd like to ask for your protection, and Professor Firdon's help in bringing it down before it can do so."

Larenok scowled, glancing through the pages, then up at Jair. "You say this dragon is coming to eat you?"

Ran clearly noticed his attention. "Jair and me both."

"Hm.” Larenok snorted. “Be that as it may, Welburne isn't necessary to this discussion."

"I think you'll find I am, headmaster," Jair said, raising a hand. "Soulblade, manifest."

Maelstrom appeared, glowing silver and aimed straight upward. "I know how many students come to you with made-up stories trying to waste your time or get special treatment. I'm willing to stake my soulsword on this vision's veracity. If you send help and the dragon doesn't appear, you can have my sword."

Larenok's eyes narrowed in on Maelstrom. Jair dismissed it before the headmaster could inspect the details, meeting the man's scowl with his own focused intensity.

"You witness this, Ran Serin?" Jair turned to him. "If Headmaster Dalin Larenok commits by binding word to protect you from this foreseen dragon, I wager my soulsword against the prophecy's truth."

Ran looked between Jair and Larenok. "If that is what is witnessed. Do you commit by binding word to protect me from this foreseen dragon?"

Larenok paused for a very long time, then his eyes narrowed. "I don't see what I get out of it if you're right. Only a disruption to classes and a lot of wasted time and energy. If I do protect Ran Serin from this 'dragon', I still want something in return."

Jair held his breath a moment to hold in the rage trying to boil out. When he spoke again his voice was calm with only the slightest edge of anger.

"If you protect Ran from the dragon and he lives through the week, I will..." Jair's mind raced; what was the most he could safely promise without being a detriment to himself? 'Show you its stats' was tantamount to an invitation to try to obtain it by unscrupulous means. But 'give it to you' was definitely not an option. "I'll perform the ascension of your own sword."

Larenok snorted derisively. "Given the way that one looks, I won't be trusting you with anything of mine. I told you you're not needed here, Welburne. This is between me and Young Master Serin."

Ah. He wanted money. Well, if it was that simple, Jair would have no complaints. Getting Firdon's help without even flashing Maelstrom's stats to the wrong person was a complete win as far as he was concerned.

"Then I'll take my leave. Thank you for your consideration, Headmaster."

Jair departed, nothing flashy this time, only walked out to the waiting room and sat.

Ran eventually came out, looking pale but triumphant. "I need to speak to my father, but as long as we can get the payment together, we'll have Firdon like you wanted.

Jair frowned at the odd note of hesitation in Ran's voice. "What's the catch?"

"I'm supposed to provide prophetic consultations in the future."

"Ah. Not a problem. Tell me whenever he requires anything and I'll take care of it."

"You're..." Ran swallowed, lowering his voice. "You're sure this is real? You just wagered Maelstrom. If this is a false alarm…"

"It’s real, I’m absolutely sure. If the dragon doesn't appear, I'll not need Maelstrom anyway."

The words felt false even as he said them. True, he could always reforge another sword, but even the thought of sundering Maelstrom from his soul now felt wrong on an unspeakable level. He'd sooner cut his own throat than lose Maelstrom. They'd been through too much together to reach this point.

Ran used his personal token at the transit platform, bringing them out to the busy arrival station in Astralla City. Then they crossed to the departure line where he used it a second time from there, tapping in a coded sequence that deposited them outside the familiar sprawling town-house that Ran's family maintained in the city.

Jair had met Ran’s father a few times before unlocking his soulspell, but not often afterwards. They always saw each other at the funeral, but Jair tended to avoid him afterwards. Lord Ajriol Serin may say he didn’t blame Jair, but his attitude remained distant and their interactions curt. Jair had almost forgotten his usual affability - the times when he and Ran visited during the final week of his life were few and far between.

“Should I do anything?” Jair asked, genuinely uneasy. This was the closest they’d ever gotten to a perfect outcome. The chance to save Ran without needing to actually sacrifice Maelstrom’s secrecy was too good to pass up. “Whatever it costs, I can pay it back.”

Ran scoffed away the suggestion. “Why would you pay for my father to hire protection for me?”

“I’m the one who riled up the headmaster.”

“And without your warning, I’d probably be dead in a week.”

“Definitely would.”

“See?”

“But I–”

“No,” Ran said firmly. “None of this is your responsibility.”

It is.

But Jair didn’t speak it aloud, and they climbed the four silver steps from the arrival tile to the front door in silence.

Ajriol did not meet them in person, but Ran’s request for a meeting took all of two minutes to summon him.

Ran’s father had the same fiery eyes as his son, though while Ran’s tended more toward the gold side of the spectrum, Ajriol’s were deep flame-orange with only flecks of yellow. His sleek blond hair was tied up in a short queue, rather than allowed to flop freely about like Ran’s, and his overall bearing was much more restrained, but apart from those differences the two bore a striking resemblance.

Jair stood back while Ran explained the situation, briefly laying out the danger, the potential solution, and the cost.

Jair nearly choked when Ran said the number; it wasn’t quite as much as Jair had ever earned in his past loops, but it was a staggering amount. For a moment he wondered if they might be better off sharing Maelstrom’s secrets, but squelched the thought beneath ruthless pragmatism. Lord Ajriol Serin could afford the expenditure with far less trouble than Jair could survive the next four months with assassins on his heels.

Despite Ran’s seeming concern, Ajriol only questioned Jair briefly regarding his visions, looked over the detailed drawings, and then retreated to his study to draw up a banking writ.

Ajriol returned and handed the writ to his son, clasped Ran’s arm and drew him into a brief hug, then drew back and bade them farewell.

Another pair of transits to return them to the Institute, a quick trip to Larenok’s office to pay off the bribe in full, and Garow Firdon’s stone spells would be at their disposal.

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