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4: Antagonism

It was an elf who first tamed the moons, who burned his soul into their surface and opened the gates to new lands.

And it was his son whose fire for conquest shattered our open trust and brought ruin to our shores.

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Unfortunately, Ran’s shock at Jair’s uncharacteristic request wasn’t enough for him to completely set aside sanity and buy everything Jair wanted without question. He only grudgingly assented to buy them both armor, raised an eyebrow at the frostvine nets and ropes, and firmly vetoed the custom ballista.

If the first few attempts at dragon slaying didn’t work out, Jair could figure out how to get past that particular block easily enough. He needed a few days to rediscover the rhythm of this version of himself, but once he did he could avoid causing the same concern over his mental state.

For now, they could try the obvious things.

The transit back was much quicker, since the public platforms were maintained by the city grid. There was no lack of power, and the Institute arrival platform rarely saw enough use to require waiting for it to be available.

"So, why the obsession with dragons?" Ran asked as they crossed the academy grounds back toward their apartments. "None of us is likely to ever meet one outside of a hunt."

"I wish," Jair grumbled.

“So if you don’t want to…” Ran trailed off abruptly.

It took only a moment to see why. Headmaster Larenok strode toward them up the black stone path with obvious purpose.

“Jair Welburne.”

There was no way to pretend he hadn't seen the man, no way to slip away.

Jair stood straight and attentive. "Yes, Master Larenok?"

“What do you think you're doing? Where have you been? I sent a summons hours ago."

“You have found me now, congratulations. How may this initiate serve?” Jair’s tone was not lost on the headmaster.

Larenok’s perpetual scowl darkened. “Your respect strays dangerously close to mockery, young Welburne."

Jair inclined his head, never breaking eye contact. "As you say, Master Larenok."

Ran gaped at Jair like he'd grown a tail. Ah, right. Before today, Ran had never watched him provoke anyone before.

Jair's passive expression twitched, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"You would do well to observe tradition in more than form," Larenok snapped. "Serin, you’re dismissed. Welburne, come with me. We need to talk."

A one-on-one with Larenok, already? The headmaster’s summons was never a good thing, but he'd never been dragged off to the man's office without significant reason in the past.

What had changed?

Only Maelstrom.

Well, that, and his interactions with a dozen nobles. So it could be any number of things in theory.

Jair doubted it, though. He'd seen the man's blatant desire on the platform. Larenok’s own sword was only an advanced reforging, not a true ascension. If there were any way to tear Maelstrom from Jair's soul and take its power for himself, the headmaster would not hesitate to do it.

"Go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you later," Jair told Ran.

Ran didn't move, concern plain in his eyes.

"Go," Larenok commanded, his voice dropping dangerously, and Ran's hesitation vanished. He walked away without another word.

"Lead on, Master."

Larenok didn't deign to reply, but gestured for Jair to precede him to the administrative complex.

Much as the library towers showed off the Institute's architecture, the dome its horticulture, and the student housing its benevolence, the administrative complex showed off its efficiency and knowledge. Everything that could be tracked was; tracked and organized and recorded in steel spools with numerical labels that meant nothing to the uninitiated but to one fluent in their meaning could lead you to any information within moments.

The record rooms weren't the only thing in the admin complex, only the right wing. The center was devoted to student- and guest-facing administrative workers; those who'd send someone to fetch an archive, or who'd answer mundane questions like 'how do I find a bathroom' or 'what's the transit code for the trading post'.

The left wing contained teacher and staff offices, Headmaster Larenok's being the largest and most intimidating of all.

Central to the section, the headmaster’s office roof extended fully half again as high as the others around it. Its floor had a subtle slope and the dark bare walls only served to emphasize the feeling of smallness.

For once, Jair found the attempt laughable instead of intimidating. He sat in the provided seat with his legs crossed, one arm draped over the chair's back. No need for pretense. Larenok was below his notice, his position of power already annulled even if he didn’t know it yet.

Larenok frowned as he crossed to his desk, standing behind it to glare down at Jair.

Jair smiled mildly and stared back. The imposition of awkward silence wouldn't be enough to break the stalemate.

Finally, Larenok spoke. "Show me your blade."

"No." Jair's reply was immediate. He'd been through too much to get this far, and he'd be damned if he let this man walk all over him ever again.

"You are still a student under my jurisdiction, whatever your new friends may have convinced you of."

‘New friends’? Did Larenok think Jair was angling to be... what, spirited away from the academy to be tutored in private by some noble family? That didn't make sense.

Despite his confusion, Jair didn’t twitch. His reply came smoothly. "The Eldyhi Pact clearly states that requiring any individual to divulge details of their class, abilities, or other metaphysical attributes is forbidden."

"That sword is not a metaphysical attribute," Larenok all but growled. "I handed it to you myself this morning."

Jair’s smile widened. "As a bound object contained within my soul, my sword is legally considered--"

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Larenok slapped the table loudly with one hand, leaning forward, his glare growing so severe anyone else would have wilted beneath it, irritation flipping over into anger. "You will show me the sword."

"No, I will not."

"You are in violation of the Astralla Student Conduct agreement if you refuse to divulge the contents of your soulspace."

"My soulspace contains only the sword which you yourself gave me."

"And I'm telling you to show me."

"Are you calling me a liar, Master Larenok?"

"SHOW ME!" Larenok accompanied the bellow with the slam of his other fist onto the desk. "You think I won't take this to the Provisional? If that's what it takes, I swear, you'll regret it."

"They won't find anything. You can tear my soulspace apart, scatter my mana entirely, and you'll never find anything to justify their time." Jair's voice went cold. "But know that if you do go that far, Master Larenok, I will see to it that your reputation and position are torn apart and scattered just as thoroughly. And while mana can be regained and soulspaces rebuilt, a lifetime isn't enough to reclaim lost honor."

Larenok took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "My honor is beyond reproach, Welburne. It is you who are under scrutiny here, not me."

Jair really wished he knew anything specific he could pin Larenok to the wall with, but the headmaster covered his tracks too thoroughly. Being a corrupt bastard wasn’t enough to get him in any real trouble. A few bribes would easily squash anything Jair tried to stir up without specific proof.

Any claims Jair made about his taking bribes or showing favoritism or threatening unethical and illegal forced intrusions into students' soulspaces would be laughed off and dismissed. Vague insinuations could only do so much.

"If you follow through on your threats, then you won't be able to avoid scrutiny. If you don't, I have nothing more to say on the subject. Mae--" he hastily stopped himself; having a named item was more information than he wanted to share, "My soulblade is mine alone."

Larenok straightened, still breathing hard from the intensity of his brief rage, drawing himself up to his most demanding and intimidating presence, as though he could glare Jair into submission.

"If there's nothing else, Master Larenok, I have other obligations." Jair stood, and the headmaster remained silent. Jair turned his back on the man and walked down to the door.

"Don't let me catch you so much as a fingersbredth out of line," Larenok added just as Jair was about to exit the room. Always had to get the last word. "You are out of second chances."

Jair laughed, startled and genuine, as he stepped out into the atrium.

Out of second chances, eh?

Hah. If he only knew.

Despite Jair’s request to the contrary, Ran paced outside the admin building, waiting for him to emerge.

"Jair! You survived! What did the headmaster want?"

Jair smirked and tapped his forehead as they started walking. "What do you think?"

Ran's expression darkened. "You didn't-- he hasn't--"

"He tried to force me to 'show' him, but I don't think it'll go any further than that. He's too canny to take unnecessary risks. He thought he could intimidate me, but even someone as greedy as him can’t bring the Provisional into this without an airtight excuse. 'I want the guy's soulsword' isn't going to be good enough."

For a moment they walked in silence while Ran absorbed that. He lowered his voice. "Did you really stand up to Larenok over your sword? You don’t have to pretend if–”

Jair pressed two fingers to his forehead, his other hand held out palm up.

“Soulblade, Manifest.”

Silver flared and Maelstrom appeared in his hand. He flourished it once, then transitioned it back inside in a second flash of light.

“You really did defy him to his face?” Ran sounded almost in awe.

"I'm not going to let him control me. I’m not going to let anyone or anything control me.”

As if in defiance of his words, Jair’s stomach growled loudly, demanding he stop ignoring it and find something to eat. Jair scowled down at his traitorous middle, but he couldn’t really blame it. He’d skipped lunch to run to the library, and burned more mana than his body was used to in charging the transit platform, plus taking Maelstrom in and out of his soul multiple times…

“Yeah, dinner sounds like a good idea.”

The sun wasn’t fully set, but between the cliff and the academy walls dusk came early. A very bright dusk, but enough that the illumination within the central dome visibly cast light on its shadowed surroundings. The brown shrubbery lining the paths glowed softly as the light waned, marking out the routes through the grounds.

Though student apartments contained kitchens for their convenience - indeed, several students brought their own private cooks - standard meals were also provided for those who’d rather stick with the basics.

There wasn’t a set time for dinner, rather a three-hour window during which students could come and go as they pleased.

Jair and Ran were a little early, the tables only partly filled with the evening’s offerings, but they weren’t the first to come in either. Several others already sat around with their bowls of soup or salads while waiting for the entree to be brought out.

Ran went straight for the heartiest soup he could find, and Jair followed his example. Then scooped up a second bowlful for good measure.

“I am definitely ready for bed after all this,” Ran commented as they ate. “I swear, your studying habits have only gotten worse. Here I thought staying up two nights in a row would be enough to wear you out, but, nope.”

“Did we do that? I’d forgotten. I guess it was all a blur.” Anything before the loops felt like another lifetime.

Ran rolled his eyes. “I still don't know how you got it in your head you’d fail the re-examination. You’ve been fully prepared for months.”

Jair did feel somewhat tired now that he thought about it, but after driving himself so hard for so long it barely registered.

Before he finished his first bowl the main dishes were brought out and other students began to show up in greater quantity. Jair noticed a significant number who either looked at him far longer than he was comfortable with, or glanced away uneasily the moment they met his eyes.

Even assuming he’d successfully prevented any specific information from getting out, downplaying the nature of the flash of silver light they’d seen could only do so much. He’d caused a visible disruption to long-established traditions and patterns that ordinarily went by without the slightest change.

Lian Teretho made his appearance not long after, his eyes flitting around the room, but only paused on Jair with the slightest narrowing of his eyes before he resumed searching.

“Did he misplace his minions?” Jair mused. “Where’s that big punchy guy with the overcharge gloves, wasn’t he always hanging around Lian?”

“Bren?” Ran turned to check the room, frowning. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s not here. Not normal for Lian to be alone.”

Jair considered the matter for a brief moment. There was a good chance Bren was lurking outside to ambush him. It would be simple to bypass the encounter entirely, either by waiting him out or sneaking through a side door, but Jair was still in a reckless mood after his confrontation with Larenok.

He rose to his feet, playful smile beginning to bloom on his face. “Wait here.”

“Jair, no–” Ran grabbed Jair’s arm to tug him back down, eyes darting between him and Lian. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that if I’m going to push limits, I may as well push them all at once.” Jair put a hand reassuringly on Ran’s shoulder. “I know what I’m doing.”

“The more you say that, the less I believe it.”

Jair only chuckled in response, twisting free of Ran’s grip and striding across the dining hall.

“Lian Teretho!”

Conversation hushed, shifted. Heads turned to follow. Whispers passed through the now-crowded room. Everyone knew Jair’s outcast status. More than a few had actively participated in making his life the hell he had no intention of reliving.

Yet this sudden confidence made the watchers uneasy. This was the second unexpected occurrence involving him today, and some of them remembered how the headmaster had seemingly retreated a step before him on the initiation stage.

His status was no longer a certain thing. The next minutes could redefine it.

Lian turned, chin lifted in haughty defiance. He didn’t acknowledge Jair’s approach, only watched with calculating eyes as though sizing up his chances without his usual gang to back him up. He gave no indication of concern.

“I challenge you to a formal duel in accordance with the mageblade code.” Jair’s voice rang out through the room as he reached his one-time nemesis. “Face me, that my blade may reap your honor.” He lowered his voice, so only Lian could hear, “That is, if you have any honor left at all. Or are you afraid to fight fairly?”

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