AELLARIA, MONDAY, MERCHANTUS 16TH

The following day, Callo didn’t meet them at the booth. He had joined them there almost every day of Hell Week. After he didn’t answer the door to his room, they knew there was no reason to expect him to show up. But they didn’t expect him to walk into the cafeteria on Flair’s arm. One constant during Hell Week was Callo taking their side over Flair’s whenever she picked a fight with them. However, something changed in Callo, and all the friends knew to do was let him heal.

Then, when they made their way to class, there were fourteen seats again. Callo was sitting in the front row with Alyviah and Flair. Of course, he wouldn’t sit in the third and fourth row with his friends if he didn't remember them.

The beautiful Olyza was in front of Callo, her beautifully custom-trimmed Freshman robes opening at the neck to reveal more of her chest than the uniform robe was originally designed to. “Excuse me, Callo, you actually sit in the fourth row. That is my brother’s seat.”

Ozyid stood awkwardly beside his sister, letting his twin confront this inconvenience.

Flair waved her off, “Figure something else out. Callo needs help as he readjusts, and that help is coming from me.”

Olyza looked at Flair incredulously. Instead of returning to her seat, she strode up to Behngi, her candle pendant of gold and gemstones swinging with each step. As Olyza walked away, Flair grinned.

The beautiful Aeromancer smiled at Behngi, “Behngi, can I take your spot so I can sit next to Ozzy?”

“Yes, of course, Miss Olyza,” Behngi said formally.

Olyza took Behngi’s hands in hers. “Thank you, may He fill your sails and pockets.” She said, blessing Behngi with the words of the god of travel, Ozyid.

Everyone settled into their new seats, and Niall addressed the class. “Students, we have some excellent news today. Of course, you have noticed seats disappear over the semester, but never in my time working as a Professor, have I added a seat. Welcome back, Callo. Your presence fills me with warmth.”

“Welcome back, Callo,” The class says haphazardly. The students' tones were a mix of exuberance, apprehension, and disappointment.

Flair lets out an excited whistle. “It’s going to take a bit more than a fall to challenge the top of Frostholm’s Elemental Promise!”

The more polite in the class clapped kindly at Flair’s outburst. This included Behngi, Marin, and a reluctant Syn.

Niall called on a raised hand in the class. “Miss Cohly, you don’t need to raise your hand to speak. Although, I do appreciate your courteous behavior.”

Cohly beamed at Niall’s kind words. “Niall, does this mean that rankings are changing? Even I could probably beat Callo in his state. No offense Callo–you still look hunky, just a little worn.”

Callo smiled and lifted a hand, waving off the mild insult.

Niall looked at Callo and then Cohly, “What a great observation. You will go far with forethought like that. The other professors, the Dean, and I have decided to leave Callo unranked. I know. We made a big deal about always knowing where you stand. This situation is a little more delicate than that. We will decide where he belongs based on his performance in the upcoming appraisals.”

Niall stepped out in front of his desk and started pacing the front of the class. His arms make their usual broad, sweeping gestures. “It isn’t unheard of to have unranked students. Students who are affected by permanent illness or going through long-term recovery have been unranked in the past. Often, this means they are likely to leave when it is time to make cuts. However, Callo has a long time to go until the end of the year and has the spirit to go the distance!” Shouting the word ‘distance,’ Niall pointed beyond the back wall.

“You better step up your game for midterms and start challenging the other classes. My heart will break if I have to cut even a single one of you.” Niall said. Niall’s excess of drama couldn’t be helped for the bard. He was a performer, and he cared for his students. “Now! I have three beautiful arcane focuses to hand out: Aellaria, Marin, and Paris. Each more beautiful than the last.”

Paris strutted forward and was the first to take his new arcane focus. He held the sword handle in his hands and cast with it, his spare hand forming the runes for a magelight. A blade made of light pushed forth from the handle until the sword was complete.

“You are now ready to slay shadows and shades, my promising student,” Niall said excitedly.

Aellaria knew that the magelight the young man was pretending was a blade was ethereal and harmless.

Aellaria and Marin also retrieved their arcane focuses. Marin looked relieved to regain her beloved holy symbol, but Aellaria wasn’t relieved. She had everything she needed to get answers, and it was time to get to work.

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

MARIN

Marin worried that it would be particularly rough that day during fitness. Marin thought that Tilly’s watchful eye would be the only thing keeping Aellaria and Bren from tearing each other apart. However, it seemed that Aellaria still hadn’t fully recovered from the trauma of the night before. Marin remembered seeing the torture chair crafted by Bren and Aellaria’s broken arms.

Not only did Aellaria seem disinterested, but Bren was not her usual assertive self. As the women ran around the track, no words were whispered in passing ears. There wasn’t a single physical or verbal barb.

When they eventually went to spar, Marin decided it would be best to take it easy on Aellaria. Aellaria didn’t get the heads-up that today would be a more relaxed sparring session, and within seconds of combat, Marin was thrown to the ground.

“Marin, focus up. I will down you every time you underestimate me.” Aellaria said.

Marin coughed and sat back up. “Shouldn’t you take it easy? You were tortured last night. Something is going on with you. If you aren’t going to tell a professor, you should at least rest.”

Aellaria was already back in a fighting stance. “Until you can cast the silence spell, I would rather discuss private matters in private,” Aellaria said. Aellaria had said this dozens of times over the last weeks. Marin guessed it had something to do with Bren.

Marin tried throwing a couple of punches, getting into the comfortable dance they usually performed during the sparring hours of fitness class. Marin overextended again and had her wrist grabbed by the superior fighter. Marin countered with a twist, but Aellaria read that movement in time to deliver a swift kick to Marin’s hip.

Marin turned around and hissed in pain, “Aellaria, this is ridiculous. If you tell someone what Bren did to you, she will be expelled.” Marin said in a hushed tone. She then added. “I can't cast the silence spell, so don't give me that shit again.”

Aellaria moved around the mat, positioning herself to read Bren in her periphery. The Geomancer was off on the far edge of the training space. She was focused on her training with Flair. “Bren is still a child. A scared child. She doesn’t deserve to lose her chance at being a powerful mage who helps people because of a misunderstanding driven by inebriation and emotion.” Aellaria lied. “She trapped you, too. Why don’t you say something?”

“I don’t think she was drunk, and I’m not saying anything because…” Marin trailed off. ‘Why aren’t you just saying anything? For Callo? Because Bren might seek retribution?’ Marin pondered. Then, she realized that her father had ingrained something in her.

Bowin of Crowfoot Hill had always said. ‘Those that steal firewood will always freeze. You only worry about how much your neighbor has when they don’t have enough.’ Bowin used this saying when speaking of envy, but not only then. He would also dust off this proverb when discussing revenge.

Marin realized that she didn’t want to hurt Bren—not because Bren might hurt her back, but because having this type of destructive relationship with anyone was wrong. However, what happened to Aellaria was different, and Marin replied, “Because I don’t want to hurt her. I just don’t understand why you don’t want to hurt her.”

“I don’t want to hurt her because private discussions should be held privately—until you manage to cast the privacy screen spell,” Aellaria said for the thousandth time. “It’s like you want trouble and attention.”

Marin stepped forward, trying to sweep Aellaria's legs from under her. “I just want to… help!”

Aellaria backed out of the way, and as Marin scrambled back up to her feet, Aellaria hopped forward and swung, displaying she could have knocked Marin out. “I don’t need help. You do, Marin. Focus on your training: Not on me, not on Bren, not even on Callo. You are starting from so far behind that you hardly belong here. Mind your business, and don’t get complacent.” Aellaria said harshly.

Marin frowned. “A paladin of Phoenix is the sun that warms hearts. A paladin of Phoenix is the shield that protects. A–”

Aellaria cut Marin off by finishing her own sentiment. “A paladin isn’t a paladin if they are cut as a first-year for falling behind.” Aellaria sighed and relented. She cast a cantrip, producing a small trickle of water to drink. “Marin, I am an adult and a stubborn one. If you see Bren as such a threat, you are going to have to just get strong enough to kick her ass yourself. I am no snitch.”

These words rang in Marin’s head like a bell. ‘Did I hope for a shortcut to have Bren out of my way?’ Marin thought. She realized that it was true. At least partially. While she was worried about her professional and academic future, she also knew that Bren was a raging bitch with the potential to hurt those in her way.

After the short respite, Marin approached Aellaria, ready to push herself. “You may be right, but that doesn’t mean I am wrong.”