Before the break of dawn, Hildebrand slinked out of the dorms to visit the fountain. She moved as quietly as a mouse through the halls and slipped out the door like an eel and serpentined to the fountain.

The coin was still there.

“Of course it is,” she said to herself.

As Hildebrand walked to the administrative building, she pondered the meaning of Hugo’s words.

“Dammit, Hugo,” she muttered, cursing the imaginary Hugo she had conjured in her dreams. It was easy for him to say, since he was truly strong, like a beast. Like a dragon. Hildebrand gripped her hands tight and all she could feel was weakness. And even he wasn’t strong enough to defeat Montisal soundly. In the end, Hugo and Hilde’s encounter with Montisal was the cause of their downfall.

Hildebrand sighed. “How am I supposed to be strong?” she asked herself.

Magic? she pondered. She had a talent for it, but even the mighty Empyrean, Old Man Ren, who became the youngest sage in history, fell in battle against Montisal and the Virtues.

Or allies? she thought. But even the mighty army Hugo and Hilde gathered was all for naught in the end. And even if she could gather people, she would have to be careful. She couldn’t get involve Greg if she wanted to protect Hugo from a future of hardship; they were practically tied at the hip.

Swordsmanship and physical might were out of the question. She barely knew how to use a sword, and the inexplicable power master swordsmen and other martial artists wielded known as Vigor was an enigma to her. Hugo and Montisal, on the other hand, must have been able to use it freely, judging from the way their swords tore through the ground as if it were gelatin.

All Hildebrand had was her Saintess powers, but even those had gone dormant, or worse. “Ugh,” she groaned, slipping a letter personally addressed to Bishop Theodore into the drop box outside the post room. In it, she requested Bishop Theodore investigate the man known as Roy Garland. At the very least, she could gather some information. Surely, an innocuous letter home would go unnoticed. Especially before the second day of classes even started. Montisal could never anticipate that she figured out his identity so quickly.

“That’s clever,” Hildebrand told herself. “He’ll never notice it. Right?” But Montisal was clever too. He was a snake in the grass. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, and the clothing was good. He was ominous from the moment he met Hugo and Hilde, and yet he was so ominous that Hildebrand had thought it was a false alarm when she first saw the memory, especially after seeing his easygoing attitude. It even reminded her of Hugo, her Hugo, in some ways.

Hildebrand lost herself in her thoughts, continuing to ponder the meaning of Hugo’s words, or rather, how to fulfill them. She mindlessly returned to the fountain and sat on the rim.

She didn’t even notice the girl standing next to her until she heard the words, “Ooh! Lucky!”

Next to Hildebrand was a short girl who looked too young to be attending the academy, and yet there the pipsqueak was, in the academy’s uniform, reaching into the fountain.

“Wait,” Hildebrand said, grabbing the pipsqueak’s wrist just in time, stopping her from picking up the copper coin. Hildebrand didn’t have to hold the pipsqueak’s wrist tight; her wrist fit between Hildebrand’s middle finger and thumb with room to spare.

“What!” the pipsqueak yelped. “What are you doing? Let me go! Are you kidnapping me?”

The sudden and incessant babbling made Hildebrand’s mind bubble with anger and annoyance, but the pipsqueak’s small stature reminded Hildebrand, I’m an adult.

Hildebrand sighed through shut teeth. “No,” she said, trying to speak gently. She locked eyes with the pipsqueak. “I’m not kidnapping you—"

“Help!” the girl squealed. “A ghoul is attacking me!”

Memories raced through Hildebrand’s mind. They were memories that were distant and faded to the Saintess Hildebrand, who died in her twenties. But they were still vivid in the brain of the teenaged Hildebrand. Memories of being mocked for her blind eye. Memories of the slums. Dreadful memories.

Hildebrand’s grip on the pipsqueak’s wrist tightened. “Quiet!” she commanded. “That’s my coin,” she explained.

“I found it first!”

“I put it there!” Hildebrand said.

“You mean you threw it away!” the pipsqueak said, wresting her arm away.

“I was making a wish,” Hildebrand said. “So, please, leave it alone.”

The pipsqueak stared at Hildebrand before scoffing. “Making a wish? That’s stupid,” she said. “What are you, five?”

Hildebrand stood, and she felt like she was towering over the pipsqueak. Hildebrand had always been a little taller than most other women, but only a little above average. Now she felt like a giant, looking down at the top of the pipsqueak’s head. The girl looked like a mouse. Is this how Hugo sees me? Hildebrand wondered.

“What’s your name?” Hildebrand asked.

“E-Edith…” the girl squeaked.

“You’re a stupid-I mean, you’re a student here, right?” Hildebrand asked.

Edith, the pipsqueak, nodded. She couldn’t have been younger than 16 then. More than old enough to learn a painful lesson.

Hildebrand grabbed Edith by the armpits. She was light. She was light enough for Hildebrand to simply pick up and hold away from the fountain. Hildebrand began spinning with Edith in her arms. She spun until the pipsqueak began squealing like a pig.

Was this what Hugo meant? Hildebrand wondered. She began laughing, cackling. “Ha! Hahaha!” she laughed. Being strong was wonderful! It reminded her of the brief moment she wielded Altamea’s Fire and its almighty power. She had almost forgotten.

“Put me down!” Edith squealed, thrashing with all her meager might.

“As you wish,” Hildebrand said, stopping. She dropped Edith flat on her ass. Hildebrand wasn’t so cruel as to toss the little mouse mid-spin; she might fly over the horizon and disappear. Maybe even fly into the World’s End, never to be seen again.

The pipsqueak’s trembling lower lip pulled up. She glared at Hildebrand with wet eyes and snorted loudly through her flared nostrils.

Strangely enough, the sight of the small, pathetic creature made Hildebrand’s heart heavy. Perhaps being strong wasn’t so wonderful. Or this isn’t what he meant, Hildebrand thought.

Hildebrand averted her eyes, rolling them around towards the sky, but they had to return to the ground, where Edith stood in all her smallness. And when they did, a sigh escaped Hildebrand’s lips.

Hildebrand offered a hand. “I’m sorry—"

“Step away from Edith!” shouted a familiar, grating voice.

Priscilla, as if being summoned from the ether, slapped Hildebrand’s hand away. The golden-haired girl whipped her long locks of hair forward, giving Hildebrand a face full of hair. Hildebrand pushed the golden locks away, spitting and sputtering out a long strand that made it into her mouth.

“Up to no good! As usual!” Priscilla said, standing in front of the pipsqueak, Edith, with hands on hips. As expected, her hound flanked her. Priscilla whipped her long hair back, this time hitting Edith in the face. It was enough to knock the small girl back down as she was clambering to her feet.

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“As usual?” Hildebrand grumbled. “Priscilla,” she said. Priscilla’s hair whip swept away the apology that had been on the tip of Hildebrand’s tongue. “Your little friend Edith was trying to take something that belonged to me.”

“A likely story,” Priscilla said. “But I know you!” She pointed a finger in Hildebrand’s face. And she swirled it around. “Uh—”

“Hilde,” the hound whispered into Priscilla’s ear.

“Hilde!” Priscilla triumphantly proclaimed. “Thank you, D,” she whispered back. She turned back to Hildebrand, but then back to her hound, D. “Why do you know her name?” Priscilla shouted in whispers.

“I-I,” D stammered. He shrugged.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Priscilla said before turning back to Hildebrand, her big mouth opening even wider.

Hildebrand raised a hand, gesturing for her manic accuser to stop before she could speak nonsense, but the hound’s hand, D’s hand, wrapped around Hildebrand’s wrist. His fingers were bony and long, and his grip strong and tight. It was too tight.

Hildebrand winced and D’s fingers pulled back, coiled with anxiety. And then his hand coiled back too, revealing the red marks his fingers had left around Hildebrand’s wrist.

“I-I thought,” he stammered. All that fierce disposition vanished, and he looked more like a puppy who had just made a terrible mistake. Even Priscilla seemed a little taken aback, despite the almost sadistic smile she had a moment before. She nudged her hound in the ribs with her elbow, an act that seemed to cause him immense discomfort.

“D!” she said in a hushed tone. “She’s still a lady. You can’t be that rough.”

He nodded vigorously. “I thought she was going to hit you,” he whispered aloud.

“Yes,” Priscilla whispered back. “I thought so too. How scary.”

Hildebrand bared her gritting teeth at D and Priscilla while rubbing her wrist, but in the end she let go of her teeth and her anger with a sigh. “I didn’t come here to pick a fight for no reason,” she said. “I left a coin in the fountain because I was making a wish,” she said. “Your friend wouldn’t listen to reason, so I taught her a little lesson.”

Priscilla, D, and the mousy girl, Edith, all looked at Hildebrand as if she were insane. The vacant stares of the non-believers stirred an anger deeper in Hildebrand than being roughly restrained.

“What?” Hildebrand snapped.

“There’s not even water in the fountain,” Edith said. “Commoners are crazy.”

“Y-yes,” Priscilla concurred with shifty eyes. “Commoners certainly are strange! Haha…”

Hildebrand brushed past Priscilla and pointed her finger in Edith’s face, pressing the tip into Edith’s nose. “You’re the one who was trying to pick a damned copper coin out of a fountain!” she growled. “What kind of behavior is that supposed to be, exactly?”

D hovered his hands in front of Hildebrand, trying to dissuade her pointed assault on Edith, but Hildebrand took a step forward, pressing Edith’s nose flat with her finger. She pressed it until Edith fell back onto her butt.

“Even a thug from the slums wouldn’t do something like that!” Hildebrand said.

“I’m not from the slums!” Edith cried. “And I’m not a thug,” she said with a pout. “Unlike you!”

“Your parents sure did a great job raising you,” Hildebrand remarked. She rolled her eyes to dispel any doubts about the intent behind her words. They made Edith bite her lower lips in teary-eyed frustration.

D gave Hildebrand a light push backwards. “Stop,” he said. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “…Please?” he asked. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to be fierce or meek. It almost made Hildebrand laugh, and it dispelled some of her temper.

Hildebrand crossed her arms and stepped back, only to lose her footing on an unusually round stone paving the courtyard. She fell flat on her ass, too.

D gasped and looked to Priscilla, then back to Hildebrand. “I didn’t do that,” he said. “I didn’t push you that hard.”

“I know,” Hildebrand said. Priscilla’s hound was all bark. Maybe a little bite, she thought.

“Hilde!” called a distant shout. It demanded everyone’s attention to the sixth story of the gentlemen’s dorm. Hugo leaned out the window.

Hildebrand waved to him. She waved to dispel any of his concerns, because she could tell he was thinking of doing something dumb.

“Don’t do anything!” she shouted. He must not have heard, because, as she thought, he did something stupid. Hugo leaped out the window. He practically flew out, garnering gasps.

He landed gracefully on his feet for a man of his stature and came sprinting full speed.

“Sir Rosenthal!” called Priscilla. “Perfect timing—"

“Get away from her!” Hugo shouted, smashing a left hook into D’s jaw. Hugo’s fist landed with a crack. It sent D to the ground, and it left Hugo shaking the pain off his hand.

“D!” Priscilla shrieked. She kneeled by his side and placed her hands on his chest.

“Hugo!” Hildebrand said.

“Did these ruffians hurt you?” he asked.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “It was just a disagreement!”

“That bastard laid his hands on you!” he growled.

Hildebrand placed a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “No,” she said. “I just tripped.”

Hildebrand turned to Priscilla and D, and she watched as Priscilla’s hands and hair glowed with golden light, on the verge of turning white. She watched as her hands glowed with holy light, and she watched it envelop D, who sat up, wiggling his jaw.

“Who’s a bastard?” D growled, leaping to his feet. “You son of a bitch!”

Hugo pulled Hildebrand out of her shock, putting her behind him. And he and D circled each other like animals.

“I’m no son of a bitch,” Hugo said. “But I am the one who’s going to give you the thrash—” He grinned. “The one who’s going to kick your ass!”

“Not if I kick your ass first!” D snarled back.

As much as Hildebrand wanted to stop Hugo, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill from the spectacle. She bit her tongue and swallowed her better judgment. A smile was creeping onto her face, but it stopped when she saw the same smile on Priscilla’s face. Hildebrand could have sworn she was looking into a mirror.

“Beat him, D!” Priscilla yelled.

“Wait, Hugo!” Hildebrand shouted.

D launched forward, pouncing like a predator. But Hugo couldn’t. Hildebrand clung to him, placing herself between Hugo and D’s fist.

She yelped as D’s fist closed in, stopping just a hair’s breadth from her eye. The shocked and confused boy bounced backwards. Priscilla tried to catch D, only for the duo to flop over onto the ground.

Hildebrand uttered one brief and nervous laugh. Amateur, she thought.

“There will be no ‘ass kicking’,” said the approaching Professor Adler Aschwald, putting his foot down with the loud clack of steel striking stone. He put away his wand. “I suggest you all review the honor code. It strictly forbids causing disturbances at the school, especially so early in the morning,” he said. “If you really must fight, save it for duels. They’ll be permitted shortly.”

“Professor Aschwald,” Priscilla called sweetly, so sweetly, it made Hildebrand sick to the stomach. She smiled perfectly, like an angel. “D was merely defending himself,” she said. She pointed to Hugo. “He jumped out of the window and—”

“Miss Hildegard,” Adler said. “Mind your manners. Please, refrain from pointing fingers. This matter will be investigated thoroughly, so you and Mister Arman will have an opportunity to explain yourselves.”

Priscilla’s perfect smile faltered for just a moment. “Yes,” she said. “Sir.”

Hildebrand sighed quietly. And she sighed loudly, almost groaned, when she saw that man, Roy Garland, running towards them from the faculty building. He was still in loose-fitting nightwear and only had a coat over the thin shirt and pants.

“Hey!” he shouted, waving.

A slight smile broke Alder’s icy composure but pulling his gloved hand over his mouth restored it.

“What’s the commotion?” Roy asked. That was the question on everyone’s mind, apparently, not just Roy’s. More heads poked out from windows and people trickled out of dorms to watch the spectacle. Hildebrand quietly cursed the unusually diligent student body and faculty of the academy for being so early to rise.

Adler leaned closer to Roy and began whispering behind a covered hand. Roy nodded rapidly, prompting Adler to stop. And just when Hildebrand thought that was that, Adler leaned in again, this time eyeing her from the corner of his eye, and whispered at length.

Roy turned to Hildebrand. “Not again,” he said, shaking his head at her, and only her.

“What!” Hildebrand yelped. “Why am I getting singled out?” She pointed at Roy. “You really do have it out for me!” He really was her enemy.

“Please refrain from pointing,” Adler said, “Miss—” He turned to Roy and whispered behind the cover of a hand once again, and Roy whispered back. For a moment, they both turned away, and the whispering intensified. In the end, they both shrugged. “Hildebrand,” Adler said, finally deciding on a name.

Hildebrand glared at the professor. And she barely resisted the urge to point at him, too. If it hadn’t been for Adler’s hawkish gaze, she might have done it. Instead, she looked away, letting her head hang.

“Relax,” Roy said. “You’re not in trouble.” He tilted his head towards Adler, who nodded.

“Then,” Alder said, “I’ll leave this to Instructor Garland.”

Roy gave the departing Adler a pat on the back. “Seeya at lunch?” he asked. To which Alder nodded before stepping away. The distinctive clacking of steel-heeled shoes got quieter and quieter until it disappeared behind a door.

“Instructor Garland,” Priscilla called, once again trying her ever so sweet tone. It dripped with honey.

He put a finger up to her. “Shush,” he said, much to her chagrin. But he hardly paid her any attention, turning to Hilde instead. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

Hildebrand pointed at Edith. “That pipsqueak tried to steal my coin out of the fountain,” she said. “I put it there to make a wish!”

“Pipsqueak?” Edith yelped.

“Then—” Hildebrand said, only to be stopped by Roy.

“Alright,” he said. “Leave the coin,” he told everyone. “That settles everything, right?”

“What!” Hildebrand and Priscilla shouted. They pointed fingers at each other. “She—”

Roy pushed their pointed fingers down. “That settles everything,” he repeated.

Hildebrand glanced at Hugo, then at D and Edith, and then at Priscilla, then finally back at Roy. She nodded, accepting the decision too.

“Here,” Roy said, fishing through his coat pockets. “Line up,” he said. He gave everyone something, one by one. It was a copper coin. “Everyone’s happy now,” he declared.

But when he got to Edith, who held both hands out, brimming with anticipation, he paused. “Taking coins out of the fountain isn’t exactly normal to begin with…” he muttered.

“That’s what I said!” Hildebrand blurted out.

Roy groaned and shook his head. “Quiet, you,” he said.

“Hmph,” Hildebrand muttered.

Roy dropped two coins in Edith’s palm. “Don’t go around picking things out of strange places,” he said.

She nodded quietly.

“There,” Roy said, “it’s settled, everything's resolved. Now, beat it.” Then he pointed at Hugo and D. “Except you two knuckleheads.”