Erwin and Estin returned twenty minutes later with tea and a honey-citrus sponge cake that made even Lea’s glum eyes light up. She scrambled off my lap and towards the cupboard in the corner, returning a moment later with her arms full of small plates and cups. They quickly cleared off the table and sat down as though nothing had happened. I wondered if this sort of thing happened often, and how they dealt with it when I wasn’t around. Lea had been a big ball of energy at the best of times, and from what I could tell, hadn’t yet fully worked through her teenage trauma, though I wasn’t really one to talk.

To my surprise, Lea had no trouble engaging with the rest of us in casual conversation. We didn’t discuss anything at all important, I asked about their work, we exchanged stories about Lea, and she retaliated with some embarrassing anecdotes I’d long forgotten. The food was good and it was so much more relaxing than speaking with any of my peers at Avalon. Talking to classmates felt like hunting giant trapdoor spiders, never knowing when the ground under your feet may give way and suddenly you are fighting for your life. Even with Miranda or Rea it was impossible to forget the power I held over them.

Here though, it was nice, casual. I’d mostly discarded the idea that the brothers were anything more than they appeared, though I’d noticed they were a bit more handsy with each other than I would have expected, but no more than I was acting with my Lea so I didn’t say anything. Whatever reason two unmarried, successful men of their age had for living together, I didn’t much care.

Instead I simply basked in their easy acceptance. I normally avoided speaking to people whenever I could, but it wasn’t because I wanted to. I actually quite liked talking to people. It was the baggage that came with talking that I loathed with a burning passion. I just… couldn’t do the needling, the back and forth of verbal sparring that so many conversations so often devolved into. It was why I spent as much time as I did with Ulan, Alan, and Camille. It was the closest I ever got to a peaceful relationship between ‘equals’ and I cherished the novelty of it.

Of course it couldn’t last. As always, my luck took over in the end. “So I told him, I can make you a new belt, but you can’t put holes in leather that ain’t there. He goes, ‘So you sold my wife a defective product? I won’t stand for it’, and that's when the rope he was using came loose and his pants slid all the way to the floor!” Erwin and Estin both roared with laughter, and Lea and I both joined in as well.

“What happened next?” asked Lea, leaning forward in her seat.

“Well, he tried to cover–”

A loud knocking rang out through the house, coming from the direction of the shop. I could just barely make out a light tinkle under the pounding.

“Who could be at the door at this hour?” asked Erwin rhetorically as he stood up. I followed him a moment later, I’d never had any issues myself, but history and fiction had taught me that mysterious knocks on the door tended to be a reason to worry. He gave me an odd look, but said nothing.

As Erwin carefully unlatched the door and removed the small metal bar that held the door shut, I folded my hands behind my back, a spell matrix shaping itself above my hands. The door swung open slowly, revealing–

“Oh, hello Adonia dear, you’re just in time for tea. Oh, thank you, this looks lovely!”

The girl in question smiled up at Erwin as he took the large bowl of fruit she was holding out to him. I could see in the street behind her what I assumed was her escort, a young man and woman in matching uniforms with blades sheathed at their sides. Both of them gleamed faintly with mana, not true mages but wearing a small arsenal of magic items.

“Come in, come in. Let me just take this to the table. I’m sure Leana will be excited to see you.” He pushed the door fully open and I saw the change in her expression the moment she saw me standing in the dark shop behind him.

I stepped forward to catch the door and nodded politely. “Good evening, Heiress Earthshadow. It's nice to run into you again.” A complex series of looks flashed across her face before smoothing out into a familiar, pleasant mask. The same one that just about everyone at Avalon adopted after the first few months. I thought back to Lea’s rant not half an hour ago and sighed internally. This was going to go great, I just knew it.

Clarient Valorous, prodigy and former heiress to one of the world’s largest absolute monarchies, fumed silently as she stared down at the cowering third year. Her mana roared around her like an invisible bonfire, raging wildly through the air and making the younger student flinch back every time it flared towards him. She took a deep, calming breath, doing her best to stamp down on the worst of the outpoor bursting out of her core. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger, deary,’ her mother’s severed head whispered in her ear, ‘Good help is oh so hard to find’.

“And then what happened?” she bit out through painfully clenched teeth.

The third year nodded rapidly and continued to stammer out his report. “I, um, I didn’t see the– I mean I wasn’t in position to see the tail end of the fight, but– he, um. He, I mean, I saw him, him and the other girl, carrying Kwesta off. There was something, a suppression collar I, I think? Yeah, a suppression collar around her neck.” He nodded again, his voice finally regaining some of its confidence. “She was bleeding, but it didn’t look too bad I don’t think? Yeah, so they carried her off and I came here immediately to tell you.”

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Clarient listened in silence, internally filtering out the boy’s stammering and translating his words into something more comprehensive. He’d clearly run off the moment the fight had started, but had stayed close enough to see the outcome. He most certainly hadn’t come straight here either, it had been several hours since the fight in question had taken place.

To think that one of her allies, her friends, would lose to a third year, or even a pair of third years, was shocking, but it seemed that really was what had happened. This boy, Ryan? Rorin? Something like that, it didn’t really matter, was the third person to confirm things for her.

Orion Hunter, hmm. She turned the name over in her mind, wondering where she had heard the name before. Within her soul, the book of queens slid ponderously open, a record stretching back a thousand years to the dawn of her family’s power. Orion Hunter, who are you?

Memories stretched out before her in an endless river, but she moved with practiced ease through the current. Orion the Huntsman? An image of a bare-chested mountain of a man, carrying a two meter tall bow glowing with streaks of adamantine. She studied the memory, her eyes almost reflexively drawn to his gleaming abbs, before she discarded it a moment later. Too old, to pale. Unlikely to even be a decedent.

She moved further downstream. Calum Hunter? Maybe, the general appearance was correct, but he hadn’t been a mage, simply a wealthy foreigner. Useless. She pushed past a dozen other Orions and Hunters, discarding each of the memories with hardly a glance. No, this was not something her ancestors could help her with

Ancient images were quickly replaced by more familiar scenes. The summer palace, her home for so many of her formative years. Her father, whirling her through the air filled with laughter. Her sisters, Becca and Ela running through wide hallways. Then came the blood and the pain.

Clarient braced herself and grit her teeth against the flood of sensation. She should be used to it by now, after so many years of its constant company, but it was still impossible to suppress completely. Fire burned in her throat and between her legs, blood seeping slowly from her mangled chest and the stumps of her limbs. Weak eyes opened slowly, and she could see herself… and her sisters. What was left of them.

With a tremendous effort of will, she pushed past her mother’s final moments, pushing aside the looming pillar at the center of the river, and let her own memories play out behind her eyes.

Orion Hunter… An off handed remark two years earlier, ‘Think any of the newbies are going to make it?’ a cheerful voice asked from behind her. Dead eyes turned silently to look at the dark-skinned girl. ‘Oh, look at that one! Orion Hunter, very exotic. Oh boy the muscles on him, hope he has a chance to make some girl very happy before he bites it.’ No, that wasn’t helpful, though she did recognize the younger man from the descriptions she’d been given. How about… Her eyes moved slowly over the list of upcoming duals, looking for her name. She was fighting twice this week, both men who didn’t understand the meaning of ‘back off’ but were cautious enough not to try anything when she was surrounded by her friends. She had gladly accepted their challenges, eager to wipe away those cocky looks. Just because she had no family left did not mean she would take their words lying down. She pushed the sheet aside. No, this wasn’t right. This was the second year’s schedule. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the too-long list of names. Fools, the lot of them. So eager to throw their lives away.

That was interesting. She would have to find a recording of his fight. If things did come down to revenge… it was always best to be prepared. Now, what else was there. Her search continued… ‘Oh, there you are, Clarient. Sorry I’m late.’ The tall man tossed his bag carelessly off to the side. ‘Was helping Master Shrike out with a class and got held up a bit.’

‘Anything interesting?’ her voice asked quietly.

‘Eh, sort of? Did a demonstration with this kid, Orion Hunter, do you know him?’ She shook her head. ‘Well, he’s not half bad. Good reflexes, but a bit unpolished. Might hit him up in a few years if he’s still alive, could be a fun fight.’

Interesting. The rush of memories subsided and the book slammed shut. Very interesting. She opened her eyes and looked back at her ‘informant’. Though to her it had seemed as though she was moving through the memories for hours, to the outside world the time had passed in the blink of an eye. “Thank you,” she said briskly. “Your efforts are appreciated.” She reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew a handful of deep-brass coins that she deposited in the boy’s cupped hands. “The normal rate, as usual.”

He quickly stowed the coins away in an inside pocket and scurried away, leaving her standing alone in the empty hallway. What a mess. She’d told her it was a bad idea, that it wasn’t worth the effort or the risk. Kwesta hadn’t listened, waving off Clarient’s concerns and worries. ‘She’s just an average third year costing along on her good looks and big tits,’ her friend had said, ‘It’ll take like, ten minutes max and I’ll be back here before dinner.’

Next time she wouldn’t let one of her friends rush off on their own. Not again. That girl deserved an earful for the shit she was putting Clarient through. Her hand drifted slowly to her neck, feeling the phantom burn in her throat and the invisible weight of the executioner’s axe. She really hoped there would be an again for Kwesta. This ‘Orion Hunter’ would regret messing with one of her friends, no matter who the aggressor had been in this situation.

She turned around and briskly walked back towards her room. For now, she needed to see about getting her friend back. At the very least, she hadn’t been dead the last time someone had seen her. There was still hope. Revenge… Her family had waited for three years already. She would settle for one less corpse to cry for.