AELLARIA, FRIDAY, SCRIBALAI 34TH
Aellaria was sick from grief. Grieving the loss of Lilium. Experiencing Lilium’s pain. Experiencing Callo’s life. It was like she was stabbed in the gut long ago, and every time before the wound could close– something inevitably ripped it back open. The following days were a struggle to process this grief. However, the saving grace this time was that it wasn’t just Zenithor. Marin was always close by. Behngi and Syn were a comforting presence, and the judgmental memory of Lilium was there, too. Aellaria also became more aware of her own compartments in her mind that weren’t directly mapped from Zenithor. Compartments that allowed her to cope with the decisions made by Zenithor’s influence.
Zenithor became even more external than he ever had been. Aellaria got to reign free over her own wing of the mind palace, borrowing Zenithor’s history without him holding the keys to every memory. Lilium’s honesty and pressure were the only things that calmed the rage that lived in Zenithor’s heart.
His rage was very much still there. If anything, the list of those who needed punishment had increased, which made Aellaria nervous but excited.
The four classes finished their appraisals. Aellaria knew that today was Niall’s final lecture. Syn, Behngi, Marin, and Aellaria sit at their booth. The four friends didn’t talk much, primarily because with Aellaria here, there was an increased level of scrutiny from Flair and friends. Aellaria constantly felt the Pyromancer's eyes on her, and even Marin had situational awareness enough not to talk about it.
Aellaria wondered if there was a graceful way to handle the situation. Of course, Flair was on The List, but Aellaria wasn’t ready to tackle Zenithor’s list yet. It would require her to dig into the memories of another object, and that process was something she wasn’t prepared for mentally, physically, or emotionally. With that said, Aellaria had second thoughts about tackling some of the names on The List. This semester showed Aellaria's independence and exposed Zenithor’s fallibility.
The quartet made their way to Niall’s class, which was now down to thirteen desks and thirteen chairs. The death of Callo’s mimic further lowered competition.
Niall stood before the class, and the rankings were sitting behind him. The Master bard had set up a curtain rig to block out the rankings. As Aellaria found her seat, she appreciated the effort and showmanship shown by her teacher.
As they waited for the other students to find seats, Aellaria counted Flair, turning around to glare at her six times. Even Alyviah looked at Aellaria with disgust.
Paris wasn’t present, but his chair hadn’t been removed. A part of Aellaria wished that she could tell Paris that he didn’t kill a fellow student. However, there was no way to give this information to Paris without revealing just how much she knew.
As the twelve students settled into their seats, Niall pulled out his trusty chair and flipped it around, resting his head in his arms and straddling the backrest. “Students, I have the appraisal results. I think these results might be controversial, so I will be here to discuss them so we can go into Passing break knowing exactly where we are and why. Most importantly, I want you to all look at these results without complacency.”
Complacency, that word rang through Aellaria’s mind like discordant chimes. There was a silence as the students anxiously watched the curtains for Niall’s action. Since almost half of the room had been defeated by Paris, almost everyone was anxious for a negative outcome.
“Does anyone have any questions before we get started?” Niall asked.
No one responded.
Niall stood up and made broad sweeping gestures before casting a series of electrical cantrips that struck the curtains and caused them to burst into small fireballs. This trick was very similar to the one used by the Dean on that first day of the year.
Aellaria knew that Niall’s display resulted in one part magic, one part alchemy, and one part illusion. However, it was still fantastical enough to illicit an ‘ooh’ from Marin sitting beside her.
Once the roaring fire wound down, the class could see the standings of the fifty-seven remaining students in the first-year class and, most importantly, the thirteen remaining students in Niall’s class.
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There were murmurs in the class, but the loudest reaction was a scoff from Flair.
Niall looked at Flair. “This is an open forum. I won’t have anyone’s rankings a secret. Is there something you disagree with?”
Flair rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah. You gave the two murderers the top ranks in the class. Aellaria and Paris killed Callo, and not only did you let them get away with it. You rewarded them for it!” Flair shouted.
Niall shook his head. “On second thought, maybe we should have this discussion privately, Flair.”
Flair jumped to her feet and slammed her hands down onto the desk. Her chair rocketed backward and fell over. “No! Fuck that! What reasons do you have to reward Paris and Aellaria after they killed Callo? Why am I only three places ahead of Marin?!?!”
“Flair, we believe that Callo may have been going through some type of episode. He referred to Paris as a ‘witness’ to what he was doing to Aellaria, spoke in an unnatural cadence, and tortured Aellaria.”
Flair opened her mouth to shout something else, but Alyviah beat her to it. “Callo was a great man. He would never torture someone. I don’t believe you, and I don’t believe whatever story Paris and Aellaria told you!” Tears streamed down the mage’s face, and when the sentence finished, Alyviah took a shaky gasp to try to pull herself together.
“Flair, Alyviah. This isn’t about how good or bad Callo was. The other professors and I concluded using solely information from my scrying and Cryonolon’s medical opinion on Aellaria’s condition.”
Alyviah sobbed loudly and ran out of the class, crying. ‘Poor girl,’ Aellaria thought. Alyviah was another person whose life would be better with the truth. Aellaria knew it wasn’t on her, though. It was The Necromancer’s fault for using Callo’s body.
“I don’t believe you. I think Aellaria is a fucking sneak and is playing you like a fool.” Flair howled.
Marin responded, “Flair, you’re just upset because you failed the appraisal recklessly and are taking it out on Aellaria because she’s better than you. It’s exactly like I told you when you tried to kill me. You are out of control.”
“How insightful.” Flair looked at the front of the class to reference the board. “But I don’t need advice from the forty-eighth ranked in the class about where I belong. Especially from a fat, simple-faced, novice-caster, EAMP, bitch!”
Niall cast a privacy bubble between himself and Flair. Aellaria read their lips.
“Flair. I’m sorry for your loss. Before you leave to return to Frostholm, I want to have a private word with you.” Niall said.
Flair responded, “I don't want to. You’re part of the problem.”
Niall nodded, not accepting the premise but understanding his student’s pain. “Things aren’t okay now. I know, Flair. Please come by after class is out. I will be here all afternoon. Alright, my radiant student?”
Flair nodded, looking defeated, and left the room.
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Niall dropped the silence spell. “Does anyone else have any concerns?”
Ozyid spoke up. “Did I do that bad?”
Niall smiled, “I’m sorry, Ozyid. You will have opportunities to show your martial and arcane prowess before the end of the year. On that note, five of you here are ranked below fortieth in the class. You all need to think hard about how you will end the school year at a higher rank. You can make it. Phoenix feathers, Aellaria has no efficiencies and has never been defeated, only one of three students to have no defeats on their record in your class.”
At that moment, Marin, Syn, Phia, and Behngi applauded. Aellaria nodded politely to acknowledge Niall’s acknowledgment, the tip of the floppy hat lolling forward. The rest of the class applauded courteously but not enthusiastically.
Phia raised a hand but said immediately, “How did Callo die?”
Niall returned to his sitting position, putting himself on his student’s level. “Callo disarmed and injured Paris. Paris responded with chaotic magic since he couldn’t access his arcane focus. It isn’t possible to dispel or reverse the effects of chaotic magic, so Callo’s student ID card didn’t save him. This is why you must never lose your arcane focus and keep backup wands just in case. Only ever use chaotic magic as a last resort, and try to avoid using it when against classmates. Paris has been given a warning, so this is a mistake he will never make again.”
Syn asked her question next. “I moved up quite a bit… why?”
“Because you kicked Phia,” Niall said simply. “Three students acted truly as a team and helped their team. Behngi, Syn, and Alyviah. You had your marks improved for looking out for your teammate. Keep this in mind for future appraisals, Drakon, Badnel.”
The rest of the class was an open discussion on tactics—what people could have done better and what decisions could have been made to increase their scores. Eventually, Niall loosened up further and spent most of the class pointing out students' flaws in the other classes, especially when it came to students who were only just safe enough to make it through to next year.
Aellaria recalled Zenithor’s first year at Spire. How much he struggled to get even close to making the cut. Aellaria wished his mentor from back then was as invested as Niall.
MARIN
Marin felt energized. She was no longer the bottom of the barrel. She was part of the decay that rested just atop the bottom of the barrel. Not good enough, but not the worst. As the day wore on, it became increasingly clear that she might spend most of Passing alone at Spire.
Syn was going to go home to celebrate with her family.
Behngi would be gone for weeks to spend time with his father.
Even Garrus was only a couple days carriage ride from his home village.
Marin knew that Aellaria didn’t talk much about home. When she saw Aellaria packing, Marin looked concerned. “Aellaria, I thought you might be staying with me here this winter. Behngi might not even be here to help me celebrate Passing or The New Year.”
“There’s something I wanted to check on at home. Some alchemy thing that might be very interesting if I can get it to work.”
Marin thought about everything Aellaria had told her about Frostholm. All Marin knew was that Aellaria had a bad breakup and that her master had died. “Are you going to see some family?” Marin asked, hoping to get that rare glimpse into Aellaria’s past.
“Nope. If things go well, I might return within a couple of days. It will likely be about three weeks, though.” Aellaria said, smiling.
“Do you have any family?” Marin asked.
“No. My parents died when I was young, and Master Zenithor died earlier this year. Why are you digging, Marin?”
Marin felt nervous like she was breaking a rule by asking these questions. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious.”
Aellaria stopped packing and then sat on her bed opposite Marin. “I know. Sadly, there isn’t much to tell. There were many things I used to love in Frostholm, but they’re all gone now. Honestly, there are things I want to say to you, Marin, but I’m not quite ready yet. I may never be ready.
“Like what?” Marin asked, giving Aellaria a cheeky grin. “Is it about Illicit Aellaria time?”
Aellaria threw her hat at Marin like a frisbee, and Marin giggled. “You focus on your Illicit Jeff time and keep me out of it.”
“Even Jeff is going back home. You better hurry back. If I am sitting here alone during Passing celebrations, I am going to flip a tit.” Marin whined merrily. The coldest time of the year was when her tight-knit village gathered closest—pooling resources for the most festive time of the year. Marin tossed Aellaria’s hat back.
Aellaria smiled and said, “There is something I will need you to do for me, though.”
“What is that?”
“I’ll need you to continue my pickups from the herbalists, and I’ll also need you to keep water in the incubators so my plants keep growing.”
“Ummm, I think I can do that. Yeah, I would be happy to.” Marin said. It was the time of the year to put others first and pick up the slack when others needed help.
“I think this will be enough for labor costs. “Aellaria said, pulling out a wooden chest the size of a large breadbox. She opened the box, and a dozen gold coins poured from the overflowing chest.
“Aellaria! That is too much! I cannot accept.” Marin shouted.
Aellaria closed the chest, not bothering to return the coins that spilled to the floor. “I hope your family has a great New Year.”
“I’m not…” Marin started, but the fortune being offered to her was overwhelming. Marin knew that Aellaria knows she wants to help her family in her village. The emotions were conflicting.
Aellaria set the chest next to Marin’s bed and leaned down to hug the tearing-up lottery apprentice. “Marin, you will never owe me. Thank you for your friendship.”
Marin wiped away a happy tear and then returned the hug. “Thank you. This is going to mean so much to my family. You are amazing, Aellaria. Thank you. Thank you.”
Marin truly believed that Aellaria was a troubled saint, a guide sent to her by Phoenix himself. What Marin didn’t know was that Aellaria had a List in her head—a List with six names on it—a List that Aellaria would travel across the continent just to make one name shorter.
Kyrine
Flair
Bren
Fassand
The Necromancer
And Mellow Goldrose
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