Kismet spoke with all the gentleness of Soleil’s mothers. “Mana is infinitely expressive. The problem that most run into is just how much more capable mana is at attempting to define us instead of the other way around.” They took their time laying out each book with a tender care before brushing their hand against the back of Soleil’s. “Own the trauma if you have to. Do whatever you have to make mana work for you.”

Something caught in Soleil’s throat, a question with an impossible answer. “Did you? Manage it?”

Kismet’s hand lingered for a moment longer before withdrawing. “I’m still searching. But we each carry with us our own circumstances and experiences. One never knows if we’re holding what someone else needs.”

Maeve made a noise, drawing the eye of Soleil and Kismet both. “I hope you find it. The expression of your self that you seek.”

Kismet shot her a knowing look. Something wordless passed between the two that Soleil could not grasp.

“Thank you.” Kismet said before turning to lay out Maeve’s half of the books. “Shall I start from the top? Or would the two of you prefer to work backwards from what you’ve just gone through?”

Both Soleil and Maeve flinched.

“From the top then.” Kismet purred. “Please feel free to ask questions and help me tailor this to you. For now I will start with giving you a useful framework to think about skills before moving on to Magical traditions.”

“Thank you.” Soleil managed to squeak.

Maeve for her part fished out the Skill Book for [Smash.] While she leafed through the pages, it was clear her attention was more on Kismet and Soleil.

“Let’s start with simple concepts.” Kismet rounded to the opposite end of the table, retrieving a luminous soapstone for listing terms on a nearby board. “What do you think of when I say the word, Skill?”

Soleil flashed a confident smile. “An ability, be it passive or active, that combines mana and memories in order to produce an effect.”

Kismet nodded. “A rigid answer, but for our purposes it is a good starting point.” Kismet copied Soleil’s words down word for word. “With the exception of [Fire Affinity,] what skill would you say you understand the most?”

On any other day, Soleil would have wanted to give [Analyze,] but the extent at which that skill could provide insight on the world was starting to bother her. “I’m going to go with [Mana Shape] if that’s alright with you.” Soleil technically [Manipulated] more often than she [Shaped Mana] but her manipulations were simple in that they delivered her mana to the target. Nothing special there.

“You’re a Spell Shaper!” Kismet’s eyes lit up. “You and I are going to have so much to talk about. Maeve here might know them better as Evokers, but yes. A very fine choice.”

Maeve chuckled. “I think you were trying to make a point?”

“Ah! Yes. So. Your definition of [Mana Shaping] would be that it is an active ability that draws upon your Focus in order to stretch and mold mana into a desired shape.”

Soleil nodded.

“What about the times when you are in a memory? And the memory is using your mana to produce a desired effect?”

Soleil narrowed her eyes. The last time something like that happened, she produced a powerful Lightning Bolt but how would Kismet know about… Soleil spotted Maeve’s blush.

Oh.

Oh! Kismet was referring to the [Heal] incident.

“Um. Yeah. I… remember that. I remember just letting the memory feeding me emotions, limitations on the skill, but I lost track of how much [Healing] I actually did.”

“Good. Excellent. I’m sure you’ve had occasions where you can pull yourself out of a memory, but I just want you to understand that the relationships between cause and effect can be messy. Really, we can take this sentence on the board and rearrange it until all the words are acting upon each other and it would not stop being true.”

Soleil was no longer in the room.

She began to channel mana into Soleil’s hand, changing according to her wishes, making the clawed hand more ideal for [Piercing] through the vines threatening Maeve.

Soleil pulled herself out of the memory to find that Maeve had leapt out of her chair in an attempt to restrain her.

Maeve was not in danger.

Maeve was safe.

Kismet prioritized pulling the books out of her reach, their eyes wide with… fascination?

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

“I’m... sorry.” Soleil finally managed to mumble after what seemed like a half dozen failed attempts to vocalize the panic setting into her mind.

“Mana can just as often wield you.” Kismet offered consoling words with a gentle smile. “You will find no judgment here. There is a world of difference between reading about memories and having them [Awaken] inside of you.”

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“It’s okay.” Maeve said, calm and reassuring.

Soleil felt anything but, but it was so hard to keep panicking when faced with so much calm understanding.

“You’re okay.” Maeve reaffirmed the statement.

Soleil could almost believe it. She was safe here, she thought to herself. No matter how hard she looked, she could not find the word Monster in the expressions or words of Kismet or Maeve.

“I think. I would like a break.” Soleil said with a sigh.

“Of course, dear.” Kismet reached into their bag, fetching a flask of water.

“Thank you.” Soleil said, accepting the drink with gratitude. Maeve offered her a hug that she graciously accepted but did not reciprocate. She did not want her arm anywhere near someone it could hurt. “I promise I won’t go far. Really, I think it would be nice to just browse the books for a few minutes.”

“We’ll be here.” Maeve said with an easy smile. “I reserve the right to come looking for you if you take too long.”

Soleil found herself grinning despite herself. “Thank you.”

***

“I will table the discussion of [Awakenings] and [Transformations] for now.” Kismet said before turning to Maeve.

“That is probably for the best.” Maeve retreated from the door that closed shut behind Soleil. “Before we continue, do you have… um. I think the phrase I am looking for is preferred pronouns?”

“Ah!” Kismet’s eyes again lit up, as if Maeve’s fumbling question made all the difference in the world. “Yes. Please use they/them when referring to me. I am comfortable answering to Lady Stars if you must, but Heir Apparent is something I reserve for professional interactions and friends. To most here in the Grove I am just Kismet.”

Maeve responded with a warm smile. “Mana allows infinite expression, right?”

“That is the idea! Now if only I could convince the Order to throw open their doors, I could add a little alchemy to the mix!”

Maeve nodded. She could see sparks of life and joy igniting in familiar patterns within Kismet. Knight Captain Barnabas returned a changed man in so many ways after securing access to a little Alchemy. She had no idea how much overlap there was in their situations, but acknowledging certain things seemed to mean all the difference to the two of them.

Maeve made a mental note to keep it in mind that Kismet’s current presentation may not be set in stone quite yet.

Suddenly, Maeve thought she knew just what to say. “I’m… not sure I want to remain a Knight. Or classed as a Guardian, for that matter.”

Kismet immediately changed tracks, stuffing away all that life and energy in favor of that good bedside manner that served them well as a teacher and healer. “It’s really not fair that we have to choose classes, is it?”

Maeve shook her head. Thankfully she was still low level. “What is yours? If you don’t mind me asking. I did not think Evokers bothered to learn Healing magic at such slow experience rates. What with it being antithetical to the role you’ve… chosen to play.” Maeve cringed at adopting Malady’s framing, but she could not think of a more accurate way to frame it.

“I am an Abjurer!” Kismet’s choice of class seemed to be a point of pride. “It is the Magical equivalent to your Guardian class.”

“That explains it. Forgive me if I’m not all that well versed on the magic side of things.”

“It’s okay! Really. Haven only advertises what it needs. You are not to blame for being willing to fit into a violent mold. Humans do not get a pass for denying you options.”

Maeve found herself sagging in her chair. “I just… wanted to protect people.”

Kismet reached out to accept the [Smash] skill book from Maeve’s hands. “It’s okay. Really. You can always walk away.” Kismet bit at their lip, recognition at what Maeve was most likely to say.

She said it anyway. “I don’t want to walk away. Not from her.”

“I see.” Kismet thumbed absentmindedly through the assembled skill books. “Is there a problem with staying by her side as anything else?”

“I promised her my shield.” Maeve’s shoulders sagged. “For all the good it did.”

Kismet drummed their finger against the spine of a book. “You feel stifled by the shield and armor of a Guardian. Would I be too off the mark in suggesting a more active and aggressive role in preventing her from being in danger in the first place?”

Maeve’s eyes fell to the floor. “Yeah. That about sums it up. Is it written on my face? Do we knights just pop off the assembly line…”

She was shushed by Kismet, who approached to kneel at her side. “I think.” Kismet waited until she had Maeve’s attention. “That she would want you to be happy. Try talking to her about it.”

“She…” Maeve hesitated. “She won’t like the class I have in mind.”

“If she cares about you, she’ll prioritize your needs in this. Just, do yourself a favor and make sure it’s something you want. Okay? Choosing new skills and a new class means starting with a fresh set of traumas to unpack.”

Maeve expelled a laugh that could only be described as sardonic. “Caesar was right. I made for a terrible Guardian. It stands to reason that I’d make a terrific Dark Knight.”

For their part, Kismet let out a giggle. “You two are absolute disasters. But I can see it.”

“So you approve?”

Kismet shook their head. “I don’t get a say. But it sounds to me that [Smash] was a skill that came to you innately. Follow your heart, Maeve, but don’t feel a need to rush. Umbra and Nadir could both dedicate your soul to this path. But who knows what doors Veilura could open up to you?”

Maeve cocked her head at that. Kismet had her attention.

“Veilura is a brand new Demon Lord.” Kismet said with a vulpine grin. “She has the power to bestow Soul Levels and bind you to a different Class. Of course, there is always Verda if you’d prefer something more wild and untamed like a Barbarian.”

Maeve had to stop and think about that. She was thinking about this the wrong way. It was so easy to think about what others wanted and how she could help. What felt best for her?

She would not be able to raise aggressive skills quickly, but maybe she could use this opportunity to try out a few in order to see what came natural to her. Afterwards she could get to know Soleil’s mother and see what kind of roles she might be able to bestow.

A Class was a dedication of one’s soul, not to be taken lightly. But she had already messed that up with fanciful dreams of running away to become a knight.

"Where have you been all my life?" Maeve asked.

“Locked away in a library.” Kismet said with a straight face.

“That Library didn’t have a tower, did it?” Maeve said, matching Kismet’s deadpan with her own.

“Of course it did.” Kismet gave her a funny look. “You know how Haven is built. With only one wall, there is only room to build upwards.”

Maeve chuckled. She really did have a thing for shut ins who grew up in towers. Could she really be that bad of a Knight? No. She needed to stop thinking like that. Memories were expressions, not confining definitions. She understood that now. Despite leaving the armor behind her long before this moment, Maeve was only now finally feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

For once, the fact that Malady sat confined to a glass orb within Soleil’s satchel did not bother her. It was a burden Maeve was happy to carry, not a looming threat. If Malady and Calamity were attempting to corrupt Soleil, they would just have to corrupt themselves first.