Ser Terry moans in pain and I blush in embarrassment – the latter seems worse. In hindsight perhaps setting up a lethal crossbow trap in a peaceful area was a bit excessive… Wait, no, I’m not to blame here, he is. What was he even doing climbing through my window?

  I, after slipping on my magic cloak and boots and softly jump down, ask him just that.

  “I’m bleeding all over the place, help me!” he hushed shouts.

  Sigh. Perhaps I should withhold treatment until he answers me. But that might alienate him if he’s here benevolently. What a dilemma: if he’s a secret enemy then I shouldn’t heal him, but I can’t know that until after I’ve acted… I guess I could give him the benefit of the doubt.

  He gasps in relief as I reach down and chant my healing spell. “Stay still,” I say, “the bleeding has stopped, but the tissue is still weak. It could tear if you strain too much.”

  He nods, then looks accusingly. “Why did you shoot me?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t. It was just set to shoot with the window opening. Technically you shot yourself.”

  He scoffs. “Don’t give me that! Who has anti-knight crossbows set to shoot at their windows?”

  “Well,” I give him a most sarcastic look, “as it turns out, knights have been known to crawl through it. Why?”

  It’s his turn to look embarrassed. “…There’s a party.”

  “A party?” I half laugh, certainly not expecting the answer.

  “Yeah, well, you said you wanted to invite me to one, so I thought I’d make up for missing it by returning the favour.”

  I’m a bit taken aback. I didn’t expect him to ‘make up’ for anything. He had a family issue, and it would be churlish of me to hold it against him. Still, there’s a strange and contradictory tightening and loosening of my chest… Ignoring that, I resume the offensive. “And you didn’t just send a written invitation like any sane person because?”

  He blushes. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I don’t like surprises.” I snap, causing him to wince which in turn causes me to turn away out of… something. “Listen, just… Sigh… I’m going to get in trouble for this, aren’t I?”

  “What? For shooting me? Yeah, I’d say so.”

  I glower at him. “Don’t give me that. You’ll be in trouble too. It’s past the dorm’s curfew.”

  He waves dismissively. “That doesn’t start until classes do.”

  “The wording was clear that it started yesterday.”

  He rolls his eyes irritatingly. “Wording? Come on, it’s an enforcement thing. Everyone knows.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Well, everyone who knows any seniors, or know someone who knows.”

  I wince at the slight. No, not really a slight, just an observation made harsher by its relevance to my ability to achieve my mission. My mind goes to the judge for the sword tournament. Perhaps I should have sent her a message saying I got in, though her instructions only specified when I got into trouble. Well, perhaps I’ll have cause for that soon enough. “Look, are you still going?”

  He shrugs shittily. “Well, I don’t know anymore. I mean, my nice new clothes are soaked with blood, not to mention having two gaping holes now.”

  I instinctively move to cast my cleaning spell but stop myself. I hadn’t intended to reveal that spell to anyone. It’s too useful for hiding evidence, so the fewer who know about it the better. It probably won’t be a problem if I use it here with just one fellow student to witness, but I can’t take that risk.

  “It’s not self-cleaning?” I ask, hopeful that he’s just putting on a show.

  He scoffs. “Who has money for something like that?”

  ‘Well, then they’re clearly not that nice,’ I refrain from saying. I need to figure out an alternative… but why? Do I even want to go to the party?... It’ll be good for the mission.

  “Come up then. You can borrow mine.”

  “Thanks, but we’re not even close to the same size.” He gestures to our substantial difference: me below average in height and muscles, and him above. Not to the extent that Erik is, but not far below.

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “It has a resizing enchantment. Just make sure to give it back, it is rather nice.” So petty of me to establish a hierarchy of clothes, but I don’t care as I leap up to my room on the top floor. I don’t actually make it, even with my enhanced strength aided by magic boots and cloak, and the stone blocks are joined too smoothly to climb, but I get to the window below mine and leap the rest of the way from there.

  Ser Terry naturally makes the distance in one jump.

  “Nice room.” He says, looking the place over. “Lot better than mine at least.”

  “It should be the same template.” I say, absent mindedly as I retrieve the clothes from the armoire.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to split it with someone else, but it’s not the size. I mean, what’s up with the bed? I thought they were supposed to be standard. And those paintings, they’re gorgeous.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Thanks… They’re my uncle’s… Cousin’s. Whatever.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “Cousin, technically, but he’s been treating me more like a nephew, or so I’ve been told,” I say, hopefully concealing that I briefly forgot what our exact relationship is supposed to be.

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Anyways. What about you? Any family acting like other family?”

  “Oh, no not really.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” I didn’t expect him to suddenly open up about his ‘family in a sense’ that he’s been so evasive about, but felt like reminding him that I haven’t forgotten. “Anyways, my cousin lent me the painting for my room. Said they were necessary for my… something or another.”

  “Lent you them just to decorate your dorm? You two really must be close. I can’t imagine how expensive they are.”

  I shrug. “I have no idea either. He doesn’t typically sell his own artwork, so I don’t know what to compare them to.”

  “He can paint like that, but he doesn’t make a living from it?”

  “Oh, he makes a living from it, just not directly. He usually gives them to important people for favours. Plus, it gives him a reputation of taste for when he sells other peoples’ works.”

  “I see… oh hey, you even have your own bath. Nice.”

  “You don’t?” I knew not everyone would have enchanted tubs, but I assumed they would at least have private wooden ones like most inns.

  He shakes his head. “We have a communal area with scheduled times.”

  I stare in shock horror. “That sounds awful.” How could anyone enjoy a bath knowing that someone is waiting on them? They probably don’t even bring reading material in with them.

  He looks at me askance. “It’s um, not that bad. Just one more thing to plan your day around, and it’s not like it’s a catastrophe if you miss your slot. Trust me, I’ve been without a bath for a lot longer than a day.”

  So have I, obviously. It is a bit amusing that he seems to think of me as a pampered youth just from a borrowed display of wealth. It’s good for the mission at least. But now that he mentions it, perhaps my feelings about baths are a bit odd. I’ve only developed them recently, after taking on this mission in fact.

  “Whatever.” I say surlily, pointedly ignoring this line of thinking as I bring my enchanted set of clothes to him, touching them to his clothes and activating the reshaping symbol. Annoyingly the magic replicates the holes and blood (the colour, not the substance). So, I spend another minute awkwardly fumbling the control symbols to manually fix it with him watching me, obviously wondering about my sudden terseness.

  We both quickly change into our respective outfits. I finish first since I was starting in my undergarments while he needs to spend time undressing. I catch a look of his unclothed torso as I finish. It’s annoyingly developed. I knew he was muscular even with his clothes on, but not this much. Just from a glance he might be stronger than me with my boons even without his knightly enhancements. However, while firm, his muscles aren’t so big as to get in the way of his own movement. It’s what some think is the ideal knightly physique.

  …Well, it’s not like this information changes my approach should I ever have to kill him.

  Seeing no reason to stand around, I take a bucket from the corner and fill it at the tub.

  “Oh, of course the tub is enchanted too.” Ser Terry says sarcastically from behind me.

  Ignoring him, I half dump the bucket out the window on the blood pool below, then jump down with the rest. Some does spill on me as I land, but enough is still in the bucket to carefully dilute any remaining blood.

  Perhaps I should cast the cleaning spell just to be safe, but he might hear the chanting, and besides it’s not that critical that I remove all trace. This is primarily a mage dorm after all, and even if a wandering squire comes through and smells it, it’s not like they’ll instantly link the blood to me, and if they do, it won’t get me into that much trouble… probably.

  Ser Terry appears at the window, allowing me to toss the bucket up to him. “What do I do with my clothes?” He says too loudly.

  “Hush.” I whisper back very softly, trusting his knightly hearing. “I have a hearing boon. Just drape them over my tub with the blood in the water. I’ll have my servant clean them tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know,” he whispers back at my sound level, “blood is pretty hard to get out.”

  “If he can’t manage, then I’ll buy you a new outfit.” He’s right of course, but him knowing that hints at his past, just as my pretending not to conceals mine.

  “Really?” He smiles too broadly. “I’ll keep you to that.”

  “Sure, whatever,” I say, uncertain as to the cause of his reaction.

  He jumps down a moment later, still with that irritating grin. “Alright, ready to go?”

  I shake my head. “I need to grab my bolt.” I gesture to the wall on the other side of the courtyard where it lodged itself after passing through Ser Terry.

  He glances up to where I’m looking. “Wow, it’s really in there. You’re lucky it didn’t go through and kill someone on the other side, or go through a window for that matter.”

  I shake my head. “I aimed so it would hit stone, and estimated that should be enough to stop it.“

  “Estimated?” He asks sceptically.

  I shrug. “The walls are a foot thick and enchanted. The crossbow is powerful, but it already penetrated one wall on the way to you. Shooting through two walls would exceed how it performed in testing… probably”

  “So reassuring.”

  Ignoring him, I leap up and grab a hold of the bolt half sticking out of the wall. Due to the angle of the shot, it hit below and to the side of the window opposite mine, and so I’m able to just barely reach it with one jump. The bolt is held firmly in place as I hang from it, trusting the enchantments to keep it from bending, or repair it if it does. Keeping my hand on the shaft I lift myself up and plant my feet on the wall in a sidewise crouch then pull.

  It's completely stuck, no give at all. A half minute of useless grunting later I give up and fall back down to Ser Terry.

  “Problem?” He asks with a far too delighted grin.

  “Yeah, well, um, you wouldn’t care to… with your knightly muscles and all?”

  “Are you saying it’s stuck?” He says, only half hiding the pleasure he’s taking from my predicament.

  “…Yes… Could you help me… Please?”

  He chortles. “I don’t know. Didn’t you say not to strain myself?”

  “It’ll be fine. Your regeneration should have had enough time by now, and I can always reapply the spell if it breaks.”

  “Yeah… But it’ll hurt. I mean, I heard the walls are self-repairing. Won’t the bolt just pop itself out?”

  “Eventually, yeah, but the enchantment for a building this large is probably the bare minimum. Just something to keep up with the weather. It could be months before that happens, and there’s no way no one will notice a bolt sticking out the wall pointing to my room before then.”

  “The bolt you shot me with.” He reminds me playfully.

  I scowl. “Stop dragging this out. We both know you’re going to do it, you’re just putting on a show of obstinance. Fun, I guess, but the longer we dally, the more likely we are to be seen.”

  He laughs at his bluff being called. “Don’t worry, I’ll have it out in no time.”

  He leaps agilely up to the bolt in the same crouching posture I took and pulls.

  Grunt…

  Another…

  Mmmmmmrrrrrhhhh.

  “No good,” he whispers down to me. “How is it this stuck?”

  I curse, knowing the answer. Obviously, I thought the self-repair enchantment was less potent than it is, and it has already closed slightly around the projectile. Not much, but enough to make it completely stuck.

  “Stay there,” I whisper back, “I’ll try to help.”

  I leap up and grab hold of him, and we pull awkwardly together, vainly hoping to loosen the stony grip. Unfortunately, the shaft sticking out of the wall is too short for us both to grab, so I’m forced to hold on to his arm instead.

  It’s useless, but I don’t want to admit defeat. So, we just continue to grunt on the wall until…

  “Well, this is entertaining,” a familiar voice says from right above us as a window opens.

  I look up with dread to find the source of the voice, and find an amused Emily leaning out her window at us.

  patreon, where you can find out what happens next five chapters early. Though now that I think about it, I should probably recommend against it for this chapter, since waiting will enhance the effect. But hey, who knows, maybe the delay needed to join will be enough and you can have your cake and eat it. Surely history has shown that human hubris isn't folly. So head right over and give me money today.