CHAPTER 12: SMALL MERCIES

At the dawn of the eighth day, humanity awoke to sudden silence, not the howls of hounds, nor the rooster’s cry rent the air, and as a child looked up to ask her mother what was wrong, they realized not even their voices would make a sound.

One day later, after classes, Briddy brought her books and supplies over to Gail’s dorm house, climbing the stairs to the second level while balancing the stack in her arms. Sitting atop the assortment of books and papers was a folded envelope, sealed with golden wax and addressed to her in familiar, spiky writing. She hadn’t dared to open it since it appeared in the mechanical arms of the keepedish that morning, and she wasn’t even sure why she had brought it with her.

  Loyalty house had a reversed layout in terms of dorm assignments, the boys were bunked on the bottom floor, while the girls took over the top. The lank-haired student who served as its houseminder looked up from their book as she walked in, nodding once before returning to their studies.

  Exiting the staircase, Bridget blinked at the bright, searing rays of sun that beamed at her through the large glass window at the end of the narrow hall, a series of doors set into the wall that sectioned off the long sleeping area. Raising an arm, she tried to cover her eyes as she juggled the pile of things on one arm, the semi-sheer fabric of her Shroud doing little to block the blinding illumination.

  With a huff, she managed to wedge her foot into a door that had been left open just a crack, as though to tempt in a nonexistent breeze into the stifling air that filled the house. Kicking it the rest of the way open, Bridget nearly lost the top part of her stack, compensating by hopping on one foot before she regained her balance. Across the room, Gail looked up from where she sprawled on her bed, a halo of paper and ink surrounding her dark head and spilling out from her mattress and onto the surrounding floor.

  Waving an elbow as she grappled the mess in her arms, Briddy awkwardly used her foot to nudge the door back into its almost-shut position. “Hey, Gail.”

  “Hey, trouble.” A feline grin stretched out across her friend’s face as she unfolded herself from the bed, walking over to relieve Briddy of some papers that were escaping from under her arm. “You know you didn’t need to bring half the library with you, right?”

  “I like being prepared!” Bridget protested, nudging the envelope back into place with her chin.

  Together, they made their way towards Gail’s mess of a bed, walking down the long row of identical four-poster beds that stretched from one side of the room to the other, all pushed up against the back wall.

  At the far end of the room, several of the beds were pushed together, a large group clustered atop the mattress, chatting quietly. Such a sight might have been unremarkable if not for the azure flame emblazoned across several shirts, standing out even under the green of different course's Shrouds. One girl was currently lazily doodling the same symbol in her notes, and a couple of them gave a friendly wave as the pair settled down onto Gail’s messy covers.

  “I see Imbar’s have taken up residence here,” Briddy said, raising her chin to gesture at the group.

  “Some of them, anyway. The whole guild division thing is ridiculous though.” Gail grumped, though she kept her voice low. “They can worship their heroes all they like, but unless they have an in, nothing is guaranteed.”

  Briddy looked away, chewing on her lip, and her friend looked up, frowning slightly. “Not that it’s your fault that you’re a Fable child and all that. You didn’t choose to be born into a family with a relic and legend.”

  Picking up the envelope, Briddy rotated it back and forth, looking first at the impression of the feather pressed into golden wax, and then again at the name written in familiar spiky writing.

  “I’ll trade you.” She offered, waving the paper under Gail’s nose.

  “Why are you shoving your mail at me? I’m not your housemaid.” The tall girl reclined on one arm, lazily batting the envelope away.

  “I haven’t been able to open it.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s from my father.” She admitted, placing the letter on the bedsheet, and moving a book out of the way.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. If I had a legend like Titanium Kerr writing me letters, I’d be jumping at the chance to rip it open. Having a man that can rip himself out of a piece of solid metal the size of a mountain on your side, sending you words of encouragement? That’s priceless.”

  Briddy shook her head, looking down at where her hands lay, one over the other, and gripped so tight that her knuckles turned white.

  “You know, I bet I could find someone willing to buy that off you if you don’t want it, Argus was saying…what’s wrong with your face?” Gail cut herself off, tilting her head.

  Bridget could feel the heat burning at her cheeks, creeping up to the tips of her ears and threatening to spill out of her eyes.

  “He’s not.” Her voice was hoarse. “On my side. The opposite, in fact.”

  “Oh,” Gail said, her large, dark eyes racing back and forth as she looked down, brow creasing. “But he’s your Dad.”

  “And? That’s never stopped him before.”

  “Stopped him from doing what?” Voice whip-sharp, Gail leaned forward, her face suddenly intense.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.” Rubbing her arms, Briddy swallowed. “But I can guarantee you that letter isn’t full of pleasantries and pretty things.”

  Snatching up the envelope Gail began examining it, her sharp features relaxing slightly, but that hard look never left her eyes as she gazed at it quietly.

  “Gail? Please say something.” Bridget reached for the envelope, but her friend yanked it out of reach, inserting a long finger and sliding it under the edge.

  “In that interview that you did at Whittop, it seemed like he was supportive of you coming here.” She said, finally.

  “You knew who I was before this?” Briddy could hear the confusion in her voice.

  “Yes? My dads watch the Final Sunrise’s sphere broadcasts, same as a lot of people.” Gail flipped open the letter, drawing the paper out, and after a moment of hesitation, offered it to Briddy.

  Licking her lips, Bridget glanced away, over at the pile of books she had brought, spread across the foot of the bed that they both occupied.

  “Shouldn’t we get started on that essay for Cardenas?” She said, pulling out her copy of A Journey into Botanica by Terbon Iiels.

  “Listen.” Gail sat up, folding her legs underneath her. She leaned forward, laying a cool hand atop Briddy’s wrist. “You can read this, or I can, but I don’t think ignoring it will help you.”

  “It’s really hot in here though, maybe if we got some air?” Sweat dripped down Briddy’s shoulders, and she shifted uncomfortably as she avoided her friend's eyes.

  “It’ll be just as hot outside. You wouldn’t have brought this if you didn’t want to know what was in it.” Gail refused to be distracted.

  Hanging her head, Bridget looked down at her hands were still clutched, but this time Gail’s long, slim fingers covered her own. A small mercy, not that it made this much easier. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to fight through the numbness that crept around the edges of her perception, attempting to force herself to say something, even when she had no desire to speak.

  “You read it.” She whispered. “Tell me how bad it is.”

  Gail shifted, the covers underneath them twisting and disturbing some of the scattered papers atop it. Daring a glance up, Briddy watched her read, her dark brows rising, and then crashing down into a furrow, signaling Bridget’s stomach to do the same.

  It was torture, sitting there in silence, and Briddy tried to find something else to focus on, studying the bowed head of her friend. Although her dark hair was partially braided back, the rest swept over to the other side of her face, there was a hint of green in the plaits themselves. The green thread that she had thought was only tied on the ends was woven through the braid itself, wound around small locks of hair near the root.

  She jumped slightly when Gail cleared her throat, turning the letter over as though to look for writing on the back.

  “Well?”

  “It’s not that bad.” The other girl said, picking her words like she was tip-toeing through hot stones. “Yet also not good. Lots of nagging and disappointment.”

  Swallowing the tinge of bile that had crept up her throat, Bridget reached her hand out for the letter. “Let me see.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Are you sure you want to?”

  “Please. I-” Briddy shook her head. “Please.”

  Gail handed over the creased paper, mouth scrunched to the side in what seemed to be a mix of concern and mild disapproval, though it wasn’t clear as to what she didn’t approve of.

  Heart beating dangerously fast in her chest, Briddy used her free hand to wipe back the beading sweat on her forehead before looking down at her father’s message.

Bridget,

After reviewing the reports from your first week of class, I wish that I could say I was surprised at your lack of progress. Most of your teachers report you as an ‘unremarkable’ student, which you might see as an excuse to indulge in being lax. Let me be clear: Mere competency is not enough. You will need to do better to be fit to call yourself my heir, and just meeting the mark of ‘good enough’ will not do.

There was a note that you still find yourself unable to summon my relic, a task which you assured me you would fully devote yourself to with the utmost sincerity before leaving for this school. I find it safe to say that your actions are saying otherwise. I suggest you find it within yourself to prove me wrong, otherwise, I will find no issue with pulling you from the school early in the year, and we will pursue other options to ensure my Legend lives on.

Lastly, I have heard that you entered a verbal altercation with another student during class, and have shown issues accepting leadership within your assigned group. You might feel that since your siblings found their way into mischief while at the University, you are able to do the same. They at least succeeded in their studies, and you should not be pursuing any misconduct until you can say the same. Change your behavior, or face the consequences.

Titanium Kerr

Briddy looked up, folding the message over her finger and swallowing several times to try and remove the lump from her throat.

  “Are you alright?” Gail’s eyes searched her face.

  She barely registered that her friend had said anything, her mind far away from letters and criticism, casting about to be present in thought anywhere than in that moment.

  “Briddy?” A hand on her arm slowly brought her back, and Bridget could feel tears beginning to well at the touch. “What did your Dad mean when he said ‘pursue other options’?”

  Giving a smile that she knew was flimsy, Bridget shook her head and looked back at the textbook laying nearby, still unopened.

  “I’m not enough.” She said, trying to force levity into her voice. “Never have been. Not as a daughter. Not as an heir to his precious Legend.”

  “That’s his opinion.”

  “I mean he’s right.” Briddy felt disconnected from her sense of self as she spoke, as though someone else was saying the words. “I’m not good enough to be what he wants me to be.”

  It was a relief and a keen pain to say those words, a wonderful hurt all twisted into itself that somehow left her feeling satisfied, and yet empty.

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” Gail nodded down, and Briddy followed her gaze.

  Trailing slowly through the air was a small stream of golden mist, coiling in a shining spiral around her wrist at a snail’s pace. A trickle, where when she had first summoned a rush, but it was almost tangible, if only she could close her hand around it. The mist was warm, with the same kind of heat of fallen tears, but it was there, even if the trail disappeared after only a few moments.

  “I’m barely holding on here.” Bridget heard herself say, and a small droplet escaped her eye, trailing down her cheek. “And I don’t know for how much longer.”

  Leaning over, Gail slung a lithe arm around Briddy’s shoulders, giving her a quick hug. “You’re not doing it alone though. I’ll help, and I know Tuck will too. You’re good at the book stuff, and we can spar with the Cell to get you better prepared for practical exercises.”

  “I don’t think having Niles around is going to help me much.”

  “Well Niles doesn’t have to know,” Gail said, matter-of-factly. “Now, I do need your help with this essay, or Cardenas will have my guts for dinner.”

  Briddy shot her a smile, one that reached her eyes this time, and after a few minutes of shuffling papers and turning pages, they began work on their papers. Looking up after a few paragraphs, Bridget leaned across to look at Gail’s work, which consisted of a title; ‘Eldthyme and its practical applications’ and nothing else.

  “It’s a fantastic energy booster in its raw form.” She offered, sliding her pen under a previous page than the one her friend’s textbook was open to, and flipping it over. “Farmers first observed wildlife eating the leaves and jumping about enthusiastically, which led them to experiment with it as a medicine.”

  She tapped the section she was referring to.

  Gail nodded, scribbling down what she had said, and Briddy returned to her work, the pair silent for a while save for the scratch of writing. It was easier this way, occupying themselves with work rather than dwelling on nasty thoughts, yet Briddy found her mind drawn back to the letter even though she didn’t want to think about it.

  “What’s your family like?” She asked, looking over at Gail.

  “Quiet. Normal, I guess. My Dads are both researchers, so they spend a lot of time cooped up with books and whatnot. You’d probably get along with them.” Her friend shrugged.

  “Neither of them are guilders? I would’ve thought with how combat-oriented your relic is…” Briddy let the statement trail off.

  “I didn’t inherit from my parents,” Gail murmured, not looking up from her book.

  “Oh.” Briddy’s eyebrows shot up “Then-”

  “Long story.” It was clear that the tall girl wasn’t interested in talking about it, as she was finally making progress on the homework in front of her. Letting it go, Briddy finished up her essay, looking over the work as she tried to ignore the overwhelming midday heat.

  “Is it true your brother discovered a hidden vault filled with ancient weaponry under the Somnasium?” The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and Briddy looked up, startled.

  “I…think so.” She said, narrowing her eyes as she tried to remember. “Nolan mentioned something about a bunch of layered wards underground, but he never told me what was in there.” Looking over at Gail, she shrugged. “It’s more or less true, I suppose. That one, at least.”

  Her friend nodded thoughtfully, the large braids dancing across the shoulder left bare by her sleeveless, high collared shirt. The silken fabric of her Shroud had slid down her arm, pooling onto the bed in a near-forgotten heap. “There’s a lot of those kinds of stories around here. Your siblings raised quite a ruckus.”

  “Must be nice for them,” Briddy said bitterly.

  “You know the same could be said about you. The stories.”

  Laying her pen down, a long groan left Bridget’s lips, and she tilted her head back to look at the cloth canopy overhead.

  “They’re not all bad,” Gail said, a pitying edge coating her voice.

  “Just the ones started by Niles.”

  The quick grimace on her friend’s face told her all she needed to know, and Briddy let out a sound of disgust. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do with his time?” She tossed her hands up. “I don’t understand why I’m the root of all of his problems simply because I won’t take the ridiculous behavior that he perpetuates.”

  Running a hand through the thick mane gathered at the back of her head, she added “I don’t understand how anyone can stand to be around someone who constantly treats people like-” Bridget halted, realizing who she was talking to.

  “I’m sorry.” She said, wincing slightly.

  “For what?” Gail tilted her head to the side, considering Briddy with calm eyes.

  Heart racing Briddy looked down at her finished essay, as though a treatise on Eldthyme would somehow give her the right words to not lose one of the only friendships she had. You’re so stupid. She told herself, You get comfortable for one moment and then you start going off about people without even thinking about who they’re close with. If she lost Gail because she couldn’t keep her foolish mouth shut… Bridget shook her head. “I know he’s one of your best friends, and I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

  “Ah.” She shrugged, picking up one of her heavy braids and beginning to idly play with the end. “We’re not that close.”

  Briddy chewed on her lip, thinking back to their first meeting. “He introduced you as his childhood friend or something of the sort.”

  It was Gail’s turn to groan, pushing her half-finished homework away as she leaned back on the pillows of her bed. “We knew each other, but we weren’t close. Our parents would go to the same events, we attended the same school, stuff like that.”

  Dipping her head down, Bridget nodded. “It’s the same for me and Warrin.”

  “He’s always been like this though, him and Kurtis. They were too interested in hanging onto Fable kids or ones with parents in guilds to really care about anyone else.”

  “Wait.” A frown crossed Briddy’s face. “Who’s Kurtis?”

  “Blonde kid. Niles is almost always clinging around him, halfway up his arse?”

  “Oh, that guy. He seems to hate me, but I’ve never spoken to him.”

  “I’m sure Niles hasn’t done you any favors there. I know he complained to Kurtis on the first day about how you treated him at great length.” Gail shrugged.

  “Ah, so I’m evil and he’s not even going to bother giving me a chance. Got it.”

  “You’re not missing out on much, Kurtis is… unpleasant at best.” Gail paused, a dark look flashing in her eyes for just a moment before they returned to their cool stare. “Though ‘unpleasant’ doesn’t begin to quite describe him.”

  “Glad to know I’ve made the right sorts of enemies.” Bridget tried to pass off the comment with a flippant tone, but something in her chest didn’t quite sit right. It bothered her that people hated her without even giving her a chance to explain her side of things, to show them who she truly was, and more than a little resentment towards Niles began to boil in the pit of her stomach.

  “And you’re making the right sort of friends.” Gail gave her a grin, sitting forward once again. “Now please save me from this essay, or I’m just going to shove the paper in my mouth and tell Cardenas that a Shadeshark ate it.”