It never ceases to amaze me, people’s ability to completely ignore what’s best for them in favor of perpetuating familiar patterns. And we wonder why the seascourge is winning.

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It took well into midday, but they steadily accumulated most of the items on Jair’s shopping list.

A small fortune in activation silver and specialized inscribing tools, she was surprised he hadn’t asked for them sooner. Clearing out every apothecary they could find of their frostvine, sure. Commissioning a weavers’ guild to make those frostvines into massive nets on a rush order to be picked up no later than two days? An eyebrow raise and shrug. But…

“A ballista? To fire your sword?”

“I dare you to find a better thing to throw at a dragon than Maelstrom. Better still, I can recall it at will, so unlimited shots.”

“But… it’s a ballista. It’s going to cost more than I can afford just to install it, let alone the pieces, and the design will have to be fully customized to suit Maelstrom’s… particular shape.”

“So that’s a no?”

Raina exhaled wearily. “Yes. If you want to keep spending this kind of money, we’re going to need to find paying work or obtain blackmail material or something.”

Jair stopped.

Raina nearly bumped into him. “Hm?”

“Nothing.” He smiled and shook his head. We. Funny how something so casual could hit him like a dragon to the stomach. But that’s what he was fighting for, wasn’t it?

We.

“I’ll figure something out for next time,” Jair promised. “I’m sure there’s someone we can coerce.”

Raina gave him a look.

“Oh… you’re joking, right.” He laughed, and she joined in as they left the craftsman’s shop and started for the next place on his list.

Raina’s available funds, though considerable for a normal student even among the wealthy, were insufficient for Jair’s purposes.

The bulk of her money ended up invested in various businesses or ventures that would be highly profitable in the long term, the rest spent on the more affordable necessities.

Once they finished shopping, they transited back to the Institute. He’d stored the most critical items in his soulspace, but that still left them with several large bags to somehow sneak in. They’d blatantly ignored morning classes, and to flout their shopping trip would be adding too much of an opportunity for penalty from the school authorities. No point in needlessly antagonizing the teachers. Many of the Institute staff could be essential resources in the days to come, however much he’d prefer to avoid them.

Alas, their luck didn’t last. Before they’d even reached the central dome, Headmaster Larenok strode toward them up the black stone path with obvious purpose.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Jair muttered. “Don’t try to interfere, I’ll be fine.”

Raina glanced at him uncertainly, but there was no time for further communication. They couldn’t slip away or pretend not to have seen the man, so he didn’t bother to try.

“Jair Welburne.”

"Yes, Master Larenok?" Jair stood straight and attentive.

“Where have you been?” Larenok demanded. “I sent a summons to your apartment hours ago. After you failed to show up for any of your classes."

“He was with me,” Raina started, stepping forward.

Jair waved her back. “You have found me now, congratulations. How may this initiate serve?” He gave a deep bow, just barely within the bounds of obsequious without flipping over into fawning.

Larenok’s perpetual scowl darkened. “Your respect strays dangerously close to mockery, young Welburne."

Jair inclined his head, never breaking eye contact. "As you say, Master Larenok."

Raina looked at Jair like he'd grown a tail. Ah, right. Before today, Raina had never watched him provoke anyone before.

Jair's passive expression twitched, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"You would do well to observe tradition in more than form," Larenok snapped. "Serin, you’re dismissed. Welburne, come with me. We need to talk."

A one-on-one with Larenok, already? The headmaster’s summons was never a good thing, but he'd never been dragged off to the man's office without significant reason in the past.

What had changed?

Only Maelstrom.

Well, that, and his interactions with a dozen nobles. And his shopping trip. So it could be any number of things in theory.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Jair doubted it, though. He'd seen the man's blatant desire at the initiation. Larenok’s own sword was only an advanced reforging, not a true ascension. If Maelstrom could be torn from Jair's soul, the headmaster would not hesitate to take its power for himself.

"Go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you later," Jair told Raina, passing her the remaining bags.

Larenok’s eyes barely flickered at the sight of their shopping. "Go," he commanded.

“I’ll see you at home.” With one last concerned glance at Jair, Raina walked away.

"Lead on, Master." Jair drew any remaining attention back to himself.

Larenok didn't deign to reply but gestured for Jair to precede him to the administrative complex.

Much as the library towers showed off the Institute's architecture, the dome its horticulture, and the student housing its benevolence, the administrative complex showed off its efficiency and knowledge.

The central atrium contained both the information desks and gaudy displays for the Institute’s many trophies from decades of outstanding graduates. This would be the first place visited by any prospective new students—or more likely their parents—and it had been designed to make an impression. It also housed the student- and guest-facing administrative workers; those who'd send someone to fetch an archive or know things like 'how do I find a bathroom' or 'what's the transit code for the trading post'.

The right wing housed the records rooms, all sorted by a complex numerical system opaque to the uninitiated. Jair had learned the secrets of the numbering long ago, though he rarely needed to use it. Astralla Mageblade Institute tracked everything, all the way back to the Institute’s founding. More information than anyone could ever want or need organized and recorded in countless steel spools. Racks of them filled the basement, the attic, and could be seen in the background of every workroom on that side of the building.

The left wing contained teacher and staff offices, Headmaster Larenok's being the largest and most intimidating of all. Central to the section, the headmaster’s office roof extended fully half again as high as the others around it, cutting into the attic’s territory. Its floor had a subtle slope and the dark bare walls only served to emphasize the feeling of smallness.

For once, Jair found the attempt laughable instead of intimidating. He sat in the provided seat with his legs crossed, one arm draped over the chair's back. No need for pretense. Larenok no longer held any power worth mentioning over Jair, his position of authority practically annulled, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Larenok frowned as he crossed to his desk, standing behind it to glare down at Jair.

Jair smiled mildly and didn't speak. The imposition of awkward silence wouldn't be enough to break the stalemate. He could sit here all day.

Finally, Larenok spoke first. "Show me your blade."

"No." Jair's reply was immediate. He'd been through too much to get this far, and he'd be damned if he let this man walk all over him ever again.

"You are still a student under my jurisdiction, whatever your new friends may have convinced you of."

‘New friends’? The nobility? Jair wasn’t sure he’d ever call any of them ‘friends,’ certainly not after less than a day. And why would that be any concern to Larenok? The headmaster’s tone didn't make sense.

Despite his confusion, Jair’s reply came smoothly. "The Eldyhi Pact clearly states that requiring any individual to divulge details of their class, abilities, or other metaphysical attributes is forbidden."

"That sword is not a metaphysical attribute," Larenok all but growled. "I handed it to you myself this morning."

"As a bound object contained within my soul, my sword is legally considered—"

Larenok slapped the table loudly with one hand, leaning forward. His glare grew so severe anyone else would have wilted beneath it, irritation flipping over into anger. "You will show me the sword."

"No, I will not."

"You are in violation of the Astralla Student Conduct agreement if you refuse to divulge the contents of your soulspace."

"My soulspace contains only the sword which you yourself gave me," Jair lied. Maelstrom was technically part of the soul itself, neither residing within the soulspace or taking up any of its storage. Instead, his soulspace was currently stuffed to the brim with a wide array of components, constructs, and other essential minutia from their day’s shopping. Disclosing any of that would be far more information than he wanted to share, and he didn’t have time for the intense scrutiny that would surely follow.

"And I'm telling you to show me."

"Are you calling me a liar, Master Larenok?"

"SHOW ME!" Larenok accompanied the bellow with the slam of his other fist onto the desk. "You think I won't take this to the Provisional? If that's what it takes, I swear, you'll regret it."

"They won't find anything. You can tear my soulspace apart, scatter my mana entirely, and you'll never find anything to justify their time." Jair's voice went cold. "But know that if you do go that far, Master Larenok, I will see to it that your reputation and position are torn apart and scattered just as thoroughly. And while mana can be regained and soulspaces rebuilt, a lifetime isn't enough to reclaim lost honor."

Larenok took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "My honor is beyond reproach, Welburne. It is you who are under scrutiny here, not me."

"If you follow through on your threats, then you won't be able to avoid scrutiny. If you don't, I have nothing more to say on the subject. Mae—" He hastily stopped himself; having a named item was also valuable information to keep to himself. "My soulblade is mine alone."

Larenok straightened, still breathing hard from the intensity of his brief rage, drawing himself up to his most demanding and intimidating presence.

Jair stared back without reaction. He wished he’d thought to stock his soulspace with nuts or cookies while they were out shopping, this would be a perfect time to pull out something he could crunch on loudly. Alas, missed opportunity.

He really wished he knew anything specific he could pin Larenok to the wall with, but the headmaster covered his tracks too thoroughly. Being a corrupt bastard wasn’t enough to get him in any real trouble. A few bribes would easily squash anything Jair tried to stir up without specific proof.

Any insinuation Jair made about his taking bribes or showing favoritism or threatening unethical and illegal forced intrusions into students' soulspaces would be laughed off and dismissed. Vague insinuations would only do so much.

But just as he had nothing on Larenok, Larenok had nothing concrete on Jair. Until today, he’d been a model student in every way except birth status. One day’s truancy wasn’t enough to do more than get him a stern warning, some demerits, and possibly be assigned extra homework or additional class attendance to make up for it. Minor delays at worst.

Larenok continued to stare him down, relying on his intimidating presence to pressure Jair into compliance.

"If there's nothing else, Master Larenok, I have other obligations." Jair stood without the faintest change of posture or expression. Larenok’s feeble attempt at intimidation wasn’t worth wasting any more time on.

The headmaster remained silent, glaring down at him with an intensity that few students could withstand.

“Nothing to say?” Jair gave him another moment, then turned his back on the man and walked away.

"Don't let me catch you so much as a finger's breadth out of line," Larenok said as Jair opened the door to exit the room. "You are out of second chances."

Always had to get the last word. Well, let him have his petty triumph.

Jair laughed as he stepped out into the hallway.

Out of second chances? Hah. If he only knew.

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