“…. You’re kidding, right?” I questioned, staring at the women in disbelief.
There is no way. I’m dreaming this.
“I’m fully serious.” The woman said, crossing her arms. “It is my belief that because of your classes, Arete is struggling to keep pace in my class.”
“That has nothing to do with me.” I crossed my arms, frowning. “And why would you suspect it is my fault in the first place?”
“Because I had her records pulled and talked with other professors for the classes she has been taking. Apparently, I am not alone in noticing her struggles.”
“Again, why would that be on me? What makes you conclude that it is my fault? Perhaps she may simply be struggling for reasons besides what you suggest?”
“As I said, I had prior records pulled. Arete has never shown signs of struggling with her classes or with mentors. Something has changed; the only major difference is that she now has your weekly basic lecture and your advanced magic class enrollment. You’re monopolizing her time.”
“Rather assumptions.” I glared at the woman, annoyed that I was even having that conversation. “I give limited homework for the sole reason of avoiding stepping on other’s toes. If she wishes to spend more time practicing than I’ve assigned, that is on her.”
“Well, I hoped you would be more on board, but I can see you plan on being difficult.”
“Difficult?” I scowled, my annoyance transforming into outright hostility. “That’s a load of sh- that’s stupid.” I softened my language last second, the logical part of my brain quickly realizing cussing out a co-worker would have been… less than wise.
“Well, you need to do something about this. Tell her to cut back on her time.”
“Why don’t you?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow before I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, fighting back an amused smirk. “Oh, you’re afraid of reprimanding her, right?”
I couldn’t help it, a boisterous laugh escaping me before I stifled it a moment later. “She’s just a girl, you know that, right? A quiet but enthusiastic girl when you give her a chance.”
Isania’s scowl shifted from anger at my mocking laugh to confusion as if taken aback by what I’d said.
“Arete is hardly what I’d call an ‘enthusiastic’ girl. Detached and cold is far more fitting.”
“I can see you’ve hardly taken time to learn about your students.” I stood up, offended on behalf of Mona. “I should be going. I bid you good day.”
Storming off, I paused when Isania spoke up from where she remained, voicing the fears I’d been suppressing.
“Or perhaps you’re the one who’s been ignoring reality.”
I made no efforts to re-engage with the conversation, far too annoyed to continue sensibly without turning to outright insults.
What an ass. What did Zet ever see in her?
Stomping away, or I would have had I not received a death glare from a nearby librarian, I rapidly descended the stairs, leaving behind the library, filled with frustration and unanswered concerns.
What does she know anyway?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
There aren’t many things that frightened me.
Aside from things such as the first day of classes, those were terrifying, without a doubt.
What did frighten me was that I’d suddenly been called into my boss’s office.
Did I do something wrong?
My mind flicked back to several days ago when I’d argued with the head of the science department, Professor Virtus.
Perhaps she went to the Director?
I shook my head an instant later.
No. If there is one thing that woman seems, it’s too proud to go around my back in retribution.
So, what could the cause for my apparent transgression be?
As hard as I thought about it, I could find nothing that should have been worth mentioning to someone as busy with more important business as the Director herself.
Sighing, I rounded a corner, finding myself before the Director’s office, her secretary-
Yes, her secretary. Given her position as Director of an academy filled with the children of the most influential figures in the country, it only made sense the woman would have her own personal secretary.
-looking bored as his fingers tapped away at her tiny desk.
“Oh, there you are, Professor Koor.” The secretary had clearly been told to expect me based on his reaction to seeing me. “You can head on in. The Director is waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” I nodded toward the man before quickly opening the door to the Director’s office.
“Oh, Koor.” The Director acknowledged me with a slight tilt of her head. “Have a seat.”
Nervous but hiding it behind a mask of indifference, I quickly sat before her desk.
“I would make pleasantries, but you and I know I wouldn’t call you in here unless I had good reason.”
“My gratitude.” I snorted in appreciation for her directness.
“Here’s the situation. You’ve been formally challenged to Honos Festum.”
I stared at the woman, lost.
“Right, probably haven’t heard much of the formal title, have you?”
My blank stare was my only response.
“In short, you’ve been challenged to a duel.”
“I have?” I blinked in surprise before shrugging. “I’ve fought in duels before, and while-”
“I don’t need your history, though I’m surprised you’d even offer it.” The Director stuck her hand out, stopping me mid-sentence. “While duels aren’t all that uncommon, this isn’t just a duel. Honos Festum, the Honor Festival, is a bit more serious.”
“Right.” I nodded before realizing I’d forgotten to ask about the most obvious thing. “Wait, who exactly challenged me?”
“That’s part of the problem.” The Director sighed. “It’s not one, but two families that have jointly offered the challenge. It would appear that the Aizenbern and Grucias are rather… nettled with you.”
“What?” I nearly shouted, standing up abruptly. “What the hell is that about?”
“Think; I believe you already know the answer.”
I frowned, sitting back down as I remained silent for several seconds, sifting through my memories.
Until I promptly palmed my face, recalling exactly what had caused this.
“Detention. All this over detention.”
“No, not simply detention.” The Director shook her head. “Rather, how the events unfolded apparently warranted an entire Honos Festum to be declared. I’ll admit, I’m just as surprised that something as…. Inconsequential as that was signed off on by a principality judge. Still, it’s not altogether hard to imagine that between the Aizenbern and the Grucias, they were capable of… persuading one to play along.”
“They bought off a judge just for this?” I threw my hands up in exasperation.
“I understand your feelings. As I mentioned, I’m also somewhat taken aback by the apparent level of offense they felt you delivered to their family names to warrant such a response.”
“Great, whatever,” I grumbled. “I would say I’m surprised at how fast this came about, but I guess that’s rich and influential people for you.”
The Director half smiled, tilting her head half a degree in silent acknowledgment.
“So, kids told their parents, parents got angry, came together and convinced a principality judge to sign off on this as warranted because they ‘convinced’ the judge. Am I pretty much up to speed?”
“Yes.”
“So, this ‘Honos Festum,’ what exactly sets it apart from a normal duel?”
“Normally, it’s reserved when insults and slander of the highest degree are levied between disputing noble or high-ranking families. It’s basically a way of ‘officially’ declaring one side in the right, with the formal understanding that regardless of the facts and general perspective, whoever wins is ultimately understood to be vindicated.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Sounds stupid but par for the course,” I muttered. “So, because I disciplined their kids, they got pissy.”
“Because you disciplined their kids in defense of another kid slandering them, a kid from a backwater ‘noble’ house that only holds the title of nobility since they maintain status as the primary supplier of a specific market niche.”
Lords and gods above, this is stupid.
“Regardless of their reason, the fact is you’ve been challenged, and that has a lot of potential ramifications.”
“It does?”
“Yes.” The Director pinched the bridge of her nose, a crack in her stone façade showing the exhaustion lurking beneath the surface. “First and foremost, the light this casts on us at the academy.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for the concern about me.”
“Koor.” The Director said quietly, the edge in her voice keenly reminding me that I was not talking to some casual drinking buddy by my boss. “Because of your capacity as a professor here at the Academy when you made the ‘offending’ remarks, it’s not ‘Koor, the person’ but “Koor, the Professor of Parisian Academy’, that had been formally challenged. A loss casts us in a bad light and discredits your position, the de facto department head of magic.”
“That’s because I’m the only person in the department.”
“That doesn’t matter to those looking from the outside in. The point is, within the year’s first quarter, the controversial magical department is already stirring up offense.”
“I can see why that would be an issue.”
“Can you?” The Director raised an eyebrow at me, the question clearly more than what met the eye. “Can you really?”
I frowned, once more retreating into myself as I thought about the question, looking for the deeper meaning.
Think. What would Scyla see that you don’t?
“This challenge.” I tentatively spoke, testing each thought twice over before giving them a voice. “It’s an officially sanctioned event or whatever. If I were to refuse or lose, it would automatically and effectively permanently mark the Academy as in the wrong, specifically, the magic department.”
“Go on.” The Director prompted, nodding slightly.
“The discrediting of the Academy casts everything about the Academy in a new light. Future enrollment would be endangered.”
“True, but not the main point of contention.”
I frowned for a second before snapping my fingers in realization.
“Not just future enrollment or future events, but past events. In fact-” I found myself speaking faster, neurons rapidly firing off. “-the academy itself was founded as a sort of compromise, a meeting point between factions. These factions who oft find themselves at odds because of the official stance on magic itself.”
“Amongst other issues, but yes, you’re not wrong.”
“So if the magic professor is discredited, the entire department is put into a bad light, giving leverage to -”
“To those who opposed the formation of the department, and by extension, recognition of magic in any major capacity outside the few sanctioned professions.” The Director finished my sentence, a nod of approval toward me for having put two and two together. “Yes, it very much stands to reason that this could have ramifications pertaining not just to you or even the academy in a scholarly sense but to the potential stability and standing of the very pillars of our kingdom. It’s not the fate of how magic is viewed that I care much about, but our country’s stability.”
“Well, that’s gods damned wonderful.” I laid the sarcasm on thick, my words dripping with annoyance. “Lords and gods above, damn it. Because of a fucking detention.”
“I say this in entirely off-the-record musing, but it does beg the question of whether the offense was taken from your words -”
“Or my existence.” I snorted. “Almost like they -” My eyes widened in sudden realization. “- almost like they were always just waiting for an excuse. Wait, do you think that Leo and Rias -”
“Enough.” The Director silenced me with a wave of her hand, narrowing her eyes. “I recommend that you keep speculative thoughts to yourself and work solely off what we know as fact. Regardless of what may or may not be the case, I remind you that Leo and Rias are your students, and the actions of their families do not reflect the students themselves. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” I quickly nodded, swallowing my words.
“Good. The politics of the challenge aside, it’s time we consider the issue of the challenge itself. You mentioned, if without filter, that you have been in a duel, or duels, before. That’s a good starting point, but I’m not sure it will help much.”
“Why?”
“Because, unlike a standard duel where two opposing sides are personally involved, minus several exceptions, you will find that the Honos Festum enshrines the right of either side to seek a champion for their cause.”
“Right, not to toot my own horn, but I feel plenty confident in myself,” I said, shrugging as I did.
“You aren’t thinking big picture.” The Director shook her head at me. “Think, normally, the Honos Festum only occurs between nobles or rich merchants, those considered of equal standing, in both status and financials, an official requirement for it to be declared as ‘warranted’ and all that legal jargon I’m sure you don’t feel like being lectured on.”
“Right, and…?”
“Think. Your standing as an equal comes from the fact that you are a professor here at the academy.”
“Flattering, but I’m still unsure what you’re getting at.”
“How much money do you have to your name?” The Director suddenly asked, changing the subject instantly.
“Uhh… a few nizeium? Why?”
“Okay, now, do you think you could afford to employ someone capable of wielding the strength that an ornnax grade adventurer could?”
“In the small chance you could even find any who’d even take up such a job in the first place? Hell no.” I answered instantly.
“Right, well, why don’t you continue that train of thought?”
“Oh. Oh. I see now.” I mumbled, finally following what she was saying. “The Honos Festum is only declared between those of roughly equal standing. Otherwise, it would make it easy for the nobility and the rich to push around whoever, or at least make it easier than it currently is. They could simply pay off powerful individuals to act as their champions. Those with less status and finances could never hope to even dream of affording anyone of similar strength. In this case, while my status was deemed acceptable, it doesn’t change that I’m far from the riches of an entire noble clan or merchant family.”
“You aren’t poor by the average standard. I’m well aware how much money even a single nizeium coin is to the common folk.” The Director tapped a finger on her desk, a hint of anxiety bleeding through in her normally calm gestures. “But even a few nizeium won’t afford you the likes of an ornnax caliber mage or adventurer. That’s what it would take to ensure your undeniable victory.”
“Are you saying-”
“Nizeium adventurers and the like are a little more likely to be hired out, but you have to make it worth their time because a loss, even if it doesn’t represent themselves, still stings the pride. And considering your opponents, in this case, are a noble house and a rich merchant family-”
“They’ll have the money to pay for one. And I won’t.”
“Bingo.” The Director frowned. “And sadly, even though you represent the academy, we can’t back you financially because the challenge is toward ‘Professor Koor of Parisian Academy’ and not ‘Parisian Academy’ itself.”
“So, chances are my opponent will either be an ornnax or nizeium caliber individual.”
“I feel relatively confident it won’t be any ornnax caliber individuals. That’s a steep price tag. Most of them have as much money, if not more, than entire noble houses. Even amongst the very few currently active, they only appear in times of great need, otherwise known as when the crown officially finances their services.”
“So, my opponent will be a nizeium grade mage or adventurer, whereas I will be stuck with, at best, a gold-ranked adventurer who doesn’t mind taking a beating for a quick paycheck.”
“That about sums it up.”
“What if I say I might have some acquaintances willing to take up the case?”
“Comparable in strength to the champion you will likely find representing the Aizenbern and the Grucias?” The Director raised an eyebrow at me in surprise.
Well, I know one person, at least.
I was sure she would work with me if I reached out to Tez. While I hadn’t seen her in a few years, our friendship, I was confident, remained steadfast. I had even heard she had risen to nizeium some time ago; I was more than confident she had the raw strength to contend.
But…
“Well, there actually might be one issue,” I admitted.
“That is?”
“I have no clue as to their current whereabouts.”
“Well, that’s an issue because the Honos Festum is scheduled for next week.”
“A week!?” I shouted. “Talk about blindsiding me.”
“Well, in most situations, a noble family would have contacts they could reach in that time, but since you’re an exception to the standard, a single individual, they probably figured this would be the case.”
“A form of checkmate then,” I muttered. “Put me up as the instigator, the bad guy, force me into a duel I can’t skirt out of, and then take advantage of my position that by technicality alone allows them to challenge me without any of the resources to have any chance of obtaining victory.”
“You do catch on fast.”
“Bullshit,” I grunted. “So they think they’ve got by the balls.”
“Excusing the crudeness of your phrasing, yes. That is why I wanted to call you in, aside from simply alerting you of the situation, but to also attempt to divine a way to lessen the impact we will face.”
“Lessen the impact?”
“Of course.” The Director nodded. “After some thought, I believe the best option is for you to officially decline the duel and publicly apologize that you -”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I cut her off as the corners of my mouth turned downward. “Why would I decline? I thought you said it’s not something I can run away from.”
“Normally, yes, but given we’ve been put into checkmate, it’s better not to publicly embarrass ourselves any further.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t see why I should decline.”
“I thought I made it clear.” The Director sighed in exasperation. “Your opponent is all but ensured to be of nizeium grade. With your funds and our lack of time, at best, you could hire out maybe a mid to high-ranked gold mage, a waste of money and a loss all the same.”
“I think you’re the one missing something.” I countered. “Why would I elect to hire a gold when I could simply champion myself?”
“Are you crazy?” The Director’s eyes were bulging; the first time I’d seen her so visibly shaken. “I understand your magic knowledge is extensive, and your abilities seem exceptional, but we’re talking about going up against someone of the nizeium caliber. Plus, if you were to lose personally, it would only further disgrace us, given that you are not merely an academic but a sorcerer yourself.”
“Technically not a sorcerer, as they fight by binding elementals to mana crystals they’ve dominated.”
“Not the point.” The Director waved the comment off. “If you fight, we risk losing everything.”
“I appreciate the concern.” I smiled at the woman, the most confident smile I could muster. “But I do believe you’re underselling me.”
The Director was silent for several seconds, steadying her breathing as she gently laid her hands atop her desk, glancing at where my unmelting ice was displayed before looking back at me.
“Explain.”
“There isn’t much to say.” I shrugged. “Just that, given our situation, our choices are between publicly announcing our intent to decline and apologizing, taking the hit to our credibility, and causing a potential rift to open in the stability our academy represents, or we take our only path were we come out on top, and that’s if I champion myself.”
“Knowledge is power, but not all power is created equal.” The Director said softly. “You could understand every secret in the universe, but if you can’t roll with the punches, metaphorically and possibly quite literally speaking, it won’t matter. You’ll be facing someone with the raw capacity for magic that few ever find themselves on the receiving end of. It doesn’t matter if you understand what they’re doing or what they think they’re doing. If you can’t defend yourself from their assault and return their favor, you will lose our worst-case situation.”
“I’m aware.” I inclined my head to the woman in agreement with her statement. “But, do you want to shore up our losses, or do you want to take our one shot at winning.”
The Director remained silent, slightly chewing on her lip as she mulled over the conundrum.
Finally, with a hearty sigh and a heavy glare, her shoulders sank.
“Fine. I said it myself, education is a battlefield. I didn’t expect it to be so literal when I said that to you, but the sentiment holds all the same.”
“Then we agree with what needs to be done. You send them my agreement to the duel and my intention to represent myself.”
I stood up. Now that everything had been discussed, I had no cause to linger. Before I could take more than a few steps from the desk, the Director spoke up.
“Can you win? Realistically?”
“I-” I paused, facing away from her.
Can I?
“Maybe.” I finally said after a pause. “It’s not like I’ve made it a point of finding out before, but I feel confident that I can at least contend. Considering that any nizeium mage or adventurer who is readily being hired for such a job likely hasn’t been active in combat situations for some time, I give myself at least forty percent odds.”
“I was hoping you would say something a little more confident than that.” The Director laughed, her uncertainty again filed away behind a voice of controlled resolution. “But, I also prefer that you’re realistic. It tells me that you aren’t kidding yourself when you say you have some manner of confidence in yourself. Fine, go, leave me to regret my choice to gamble.”
I was silent as I grabbed the handle to the office, pulling it open and leaving behind my lightly grumbling boss.
Outside the room, the secretary looked as if they were going to say something to me, but one look at my expression canned the thought. The man quickly looked anywhere but at me, my face a mask of resolve.
Times a ticking.
One week.
I had one week to prepare.
And I know exactly what I need to do.