Transylvania, 1850
Ed was a nearly a year into his time at Scholomance and he’d gone fully native. While he encountered many other students during his studies, he never really felt close to any of them, as most of them were familiar with each other already and had pre-established friend groups. People tended to stay within their Lances regardless so it didn’t even matter.
Lances could be anywhere from three to six people, depending on how many those within it felt they could trust. Lances ate together, fought together and would eventually graduate together. Each had their own den and it was in one of these that Ed was making an impassioned plea to Songbird.
“Please!”
“No.”
“Songbird, I am on my knees here.”
She just stared at him.
“Well, not literally on my knees, but metaphorically! Come on, you know I never ask you for anything!”
This is getting pathetic.
Go away.
She guffawed incredulously.
“What? You ask me for shit all the time. Remember when you nearly got caught scaling the wall and you asked me to send a bird to pick you up? Or when you called the Dracul a ‘narky todger’ in his presence and made me tell him it meant he was respected and steadfast? Or when you nearly got yourself exorcised sneaking into an Inquisitor’s room and I had to show the man my teats just so he wouldn’t walk in on you? Or whe-”
“Okay, okay, I get it, you’ve done a lot already and believe me, I love you for it. But this is important! Lives are at stake!”
“Lives you should never have gotten involved with in the first place!”
Unfortunately, she had him there. It had started back during their first ever foray into the town.
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Descending from the hills Scholomance was built atop, the four Squires marvelled at their surroundings. The town, Nicăieri, was a quaint affair, nestled within the trees along the sole road in the valley. Only two thousand or so people populated its gates but as the closest trading area to the famous school, it had a bustling and lively market, filled with exotic artefacts and unique cursed objects.
Ed and Gus looked around in wonder as Songbird and Viper snickered behind them. Ed personally couldn’t believe that so many people could live together and yet have clean streets, clean air, and what looked like a clear stream running through it.
Not every city is as filthy as London. I’d wager none are to be honest.
Oy, only I can slander my city! You’re literally from Hell, mate, so I don’t think you get an opinion on living standards.
In Hell, I’m a prince. Your mind could not comprehend the luxury I have known for thousands of years.
You can portray yourself as a grizzled war veteran or a pampered rich toff, but not both.
Abe grumbled away in his mind as Ed took in the unique architecture. The buildings were more varied than in London, with much more space on the roads and between houses. Many were built in the orthodox style, with domed roofs. The beautiful weather along with the wildly different style of houses and vivid colours made the entire place feel magickal, as though everything slightly glittered. That was before counting the thin layer of infernal Numen that suffused the air, its comforting malevolence blanketing the streets of the small town.
People filled the streets, going to work, going to drink, both just as filled with purpose. Children ran underfoot, bringing a smile to Ed’s face. He wondered how Hannah was. Hawkers called to the group directly, recognising the distinctive Scholomance air of invincibility around them. They walked like they knew nothing could touch them.
Minor wonders like a rope that tried to strangle anyone you threw it at and earrings that let you communicate over long distances were thrust at them, with Songbird blowing through her purse by buying many of them. Of course, she was rich so it didn’t matter to her but the street kid in Ed cringed at the monstrous amounts of money being spent on what were mostly useless trinkets. She was a demonologist for goodness’ sake, what did she need a vibrating egg for? Regardless, he made the appropriate noises when she asked his opinion on her frivolous purchases.
Gus, under his oversized hat, was trying out different cursed fruits that were on display. A set of strawberries that whimpered softly as you ate them, oranges that bled red blood when peeled and oddly enough, a crate of normal-looking apples. Viper was haggling over a fishbowl with what looked like a single frog’s egg suspended within it. Of course, he did so in the most dramatic fashion he could, with bold exclamations and tear-filled protestations.
Eyes aimlessly wandering, Ed took in the new sights, scents and sounds. He followed Songbird into store after store, gradually becoming more and more encumbered as she passed her items to him to carry. Entering the tailor’s shop, Ed was about to complain about the little redhead treating him as her pack mule, when he saw her.
Ed had never been as girl-crazy as his friends growing up. Maybe it was a result of looking distinct from everyone else he saw, but he’d never been comfortable propositioning women the way James had.
It had never been a problem until now.
Songbird greeted the tailor, a middle-aged woman with a serious face, and the two immediately launched into a conversation about fabrics and measurements. Standing off to the side, presumably the tailor’s apprentice, was an angel.
Not the real and distressingly dangerous angels of his recent past, but the ethereal, fiercely beautiful angels of his childhood. She had straight, raven-dark hair, tied down in a single braid that ran all the way down her back. Her skin was a dusky olive, like a Turk, with smoky brown eyes that promised everything and nothing. Dressed in basic hunting leathers, she looked like she’d just come in from the forest, embodying a savage femininity. Ed was taken.
He’d never before felt this sensation of wanting to go introduce himself but also wanting to run far away. It was… enthralling.
Before Songbird had stolen the tailor’s attention, the girl had been urgently whispering about something to the older woman. Unintelligible mouth movements had resolved into a low murmuring that Ed’s sharp ears had picked up before he consciously noticed. They’d been talking about some material of theirs facing lowering supply in… English?
Obviously not. They speak their native tongue. As does Viper. As does Gus. Have you not realised this whole time? All demons have the gift of tongues.
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Ed didn’t respond, blushing in embarrassment. He hadn’t realised, he’d just assumed the demonologists all spoke English. The dizzyingly attractive girl turned to look at him, and seeing him blush, gave the Squire a little smirk. Ed only blushed deeper, looking away releasing a small nervous laugh.
Humans. So easily undone by a pretty face. No wonder you fall to corruption as often as you do.
Shut up, Abe.
Oh, I will. A juvenile infatuation with a mundane can only end badly. No point in telling you this though, I went through the same thing with Solomon. Only experience can teach mortal men that some women are off-limits. You won’t hear me say a thing.
Ed dismissed Abe’s words as the girl had seemingly noticed his reaction and took amusement in teasing him, silently flirting with him from across the room.
The sharp-eyed tailor, seeing this, made a proposition to Songbird, who happily skipped back to Ed.
“So the tailor is saying they’re going to have trouble sourcing the amount of silk I need for my new school wardrobe, because Daciana over there can’t get to the biggest spider’s nests without dying. Obviously, no wardrobe is complete without a selection of silks so one of us is gonna have to go with her into the forest to harvest it. We won’t get enough in one batch so this is something we’ll have to do every Saturday for a few weeks, maybe a month. I know, I know, it’s a big ask, so we can alternate day-”
“I’ll do it. Every week. No need to alternate.”
The redhead was taken aback at Ed’s enthusiasm, but shrugged her shoulders and beamed at him.
“Really? Awesome! I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Anything you need, I’m your girl!”
Daciana, the tailor’s apprentice, walked up to the two Squires with a smooth gait, like a cat, greeting them formally.
“Bună dimineaţa. My mother tells me I am to harvest silk with one of you?”
Songbird excitedly introduced the both of them, a lucky break since Ed’s mouth had gone bone-dry when she approached. His nose picked up the scent of the forest on her, a light, woody fragrance that only heightened his attraction. She wasn’t some dainty perfumed lady, in comically large dresses and constricting corsets. This was a woman.
She inclined her head as Songbird explained the arrangement to her, locking gazes with Ed as she heard it would just be him and her. A spark, not of Numen, but something more abstract, more fundamental flashed within their eyes. Oblivious, Songbird kept chatting away as the two shared some unspoken message between them.
The tailor, also having walked up, then explained to them what they should expect. The infernal Numen inundating the valley had… changed some of the local environment. Cursed items could pop up spontaneously and the local wildlife had morphed into more twisted, demonic forms. Which made this place immensely valuable for Scholomance and the wider Solomonic Order of Knights. The materials one could gather here were rare beyond measure considering how zealous the Church was with stamping out demonic activity.
The “spiders” she was referring to were massive beasts the size of a pony, and their silk could be processed to withstand just about anything short of a direct blast of heavenly energy. Daciana, having access to mundane Numen only, could carry alchemical brews and cast minor hexes and cantrips to protect herself, but nothing like what the students of Scholomance, whom the townsfolk called the Solomonari, could do.
Thus it was agreed that Ed would travel down to the town each week and accompany Daciana as she harvested silk from the edges of the spiders’ territory.
Walking back out of the store, Ed felt fifty pounds lighter. The pair met up with Gus and Viper, and made their way back up to the school for lunch. The town had good restaurants, but Scholomance’s chefs were among the best in the world, cooking with ingredients from all corners of the globe.
On the way back, Songbird was happily bubbling away in front of Ed, telling Gus and Viper about how she’d successfully secured a wardrobe on her first foray into town. For his part, Ed couldn’t take his thoughts off Daciana, the enigmatic tailor’s apprentice.
He didn’t know what to make of the new feelings he was experiencing. Grantham had taught him the basic tenets of seduction as a primer for the school course on the subject, and for the first time, he understood what it must be like for the receiving party. Here he was, going down thought spirals for a girl he hadn’t spoken two sentences to. He needed advice.
Getting back to their cozy den, each of the four Squires retreated to their rooms after eating, presumably to do work. After pacing around his own room for a bit, Ed finally just walked over.
“Hey Viper.”
The boisterous Spaniard was seated at a desk, the afternoon sun streaming in from a window, drawing out different types of summoning circles. The advanced course he was in had only barely started, but already they were getting privileged information. Apparently aberrations like Gus were slightly more common than imagined across the breadth of the earth and the Church kept extensive records on non-standard summoning practices. The Squires in the general classes would most likely never even need this information, but this advanced knowledge would set up those who had it as experts whom other Knights would call for aid in case they ran across these rarities.
Setting down his fountain pen, Viper looked up at Ed.
“Eduardo. You seem troubled, my friend.”
“I.. kind of am troubled? Back in town, I met a gi-”
Viper stood up instantly, interrupting Ed and ushering him to a seat, while he brought over a bowl of sugarplums, and sat opposite him.
“Already, I see the nature of your distress. Help yourself to some sweets, Eduardo, sugar always gets the blood pumping, as it should when speaking of such matters.”
Viper leaned forward in his chair, eyes alight with curiosity.
“Let me venture a guess. You met a particularly captivating woman during our short trip and now you cannot find rest in your own mind, hmm? She has stoked the fires of your imagination and now you burn with unresolved passions.”
Ed, sucking on one of the sugarplums, nodded vigorously.
“And it doesn’t even make sense! I’ve spoken maybe ten words to her, I know basically nothing about her, yet my mind keeps going back to each moment she looked at me. I’m going to have to seduce someone as a mission at some point and here I am falling over myself for the first girl that smiled at me.”
Viper laughed in response.
“Indeed, nothing is so alluring as a mystery, more so when it is hidden behind a pretty face. Will you see her again?”
“Yes, Songbird’s new wardrobe needs some weird silk, so I’ll be harvesting it with Daciana every Saturday.”
“Hmm. If you’re going to see her every week, there’s no point in telling you to slow down. In my own experience, relationships with mundanes rarely work out long-term, simply because you live in different worlds. You entering her world is an adventure, a low-stakes fun jaunt into the lives of those not as blessed. Her entering your world is a life-threatening risk. There’s likely not a single beast in that forest that could kill you, but even a slap from a pissed off Adept would snap her neck. There are those out there that will hurt people you care for simply to affect you, and in our line of work, it’s a lot more common than you might think. It’s why we all go by pseudonyms, as divination isn’t rare among the bigger covens.”
The man paused to pop a sugarplum in his mouth, then continued.
“However, I’ve also had a first crush and it’s a given that men lose their heads where passions are involved. I say, have at it. Whether it goes well or not, you must take the plunge or be forever plagued by ‘what ifs’ and doubts.”
Ed nodded again, mouth full of sweet treats.
After a short digression where Viper demonstrated how women liked to be held, Ed left the room with a renewed purpose.
Good or bad, he’d see where this situation with Daciana took him.
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Ed shook his head and retorted.
“Maybe I got in too deep with Daciana-”
“Yeah, MAYBE.”
“-but let’s not forget your neverending wardrobe is the reason she’s in trouble in the first place. Her and I were perfectly happy skirting the edges of the arachnid territory but your tastes were never satisfied, your appetite never sated! We were only meant to go out there for a month! That’s what you told me, Songbird, a month. That month turned into two, then five, then ten! Now she’s caught in the middle of a cambion war and we can help! Is this not the entre reason we became demonologists?”
You became one to use magick, no?
Shut the fuck up, Abe, you said you wouldn’t say anything about her or our situation.
Songbird looked conflicted, judging whether it was worth going out after curfew. Ed could tell she needed one more push.
“Okay, if you won’t do it out of altruism, think of the bragging rights.”
Songbird laughed.
“And who would I need to brag to?”
“Your brother.”
Songbird’s brother had become the talk of the school earlier in the year when he singlehandedly stopped a demon from escaping. It sounded a lot more impressive than it was, the faulty circle only had a small, easily fixable flaw that didn’t let the demon project all of its power outside the containment zone, but the gossip mill took the hero narrative and ran with it. All the other members of their Lance had heard her grumble constantly about how men do the slightest thing and get lauded from here to Alexandria.
He could tell the thought gave her pause. Just a little more.
“Stopping an escaping demon at a tenth of its normal strength is a feat to be sure, but imagine getting in the middle of a cambion race war and surviving.”
She was seriously considering the idea now. She was a smart girl, but being a petite woman, she had a chip on her shoulder from constant underestimation and took her pride as a warrior very seriously. She was going to agree, he could tell. One last tap.
“After all, how many Squires can say they’ve killed a vampire?”