A moment of painful silence passes as I try to think my way out of this. Her expression doesn’t give anything away, not a glimmer of if she’s planning on reporting, or extorting us. What would Alan do to get out of this? Seduce her, probably. I doubt I would succeed, but it might be the right direction even if don’t try to reach the same end.
“Hello Lady Salhal, what a pleasant surprise,” I say pleasantly with my best imitation of one of Alan’s annoying smiles.
“Doubtless,” she says dryly, completely unmoved by my efforts, “…so are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”
“Oh, we’re um… going to a party.”
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously.” She lets the word hang, making it clear she did not find my answer amusing and requires more.
A moment before Ser Terry matter of factly fills in the tense silence. “Oh, he shot me, and now we’re retrieving the evidence.”
A slight chortle from Emily as I snap my head to Terrance to give him a ‘why’d you say that?’ glare, but he just gives a ‘relax, it’ll be fine shrug’ in return.
“That wouldn’t happen to be the same crossbow you kept on shooting me with during the exam, would it?” Erika asks, mirth on her lips.
“The very one I’m afraid,” Terrance answers before I can, “really his fondness for the thing is embarrassing.”
She laughs. “Of course, the bane of my exam score wasn’t going to leave me alone. You’re lucky these walls have some limited sound enchantments on them, or a lot more people would have been woken up by it than just me. I mean, who even shoots something like that in public?”
My face reddens at the admonishment and I look down and away from the other two. “He’s the one who tried to sneak through my window,” I mutter. Why am I the one being chided?
“…Listen,” she says hesitantly after a moment, “the was no real harm, this time, except for disturbing my sleep. I suppose I can be magnanimous and end this matter with an apology… in the form of an invitation to this party.”
“I thought you said you didn’t like parties,” I say, a little harshly.
“I never said that.”
“I’m certain that you did.”
“And I’m certain that whatever I said was more nuanced than what you’re remembering. Regardless, I wish to go to this one.”
I give Ser Terrance a ‘well, what are you waiting for?’ look.
“I’m pretty sure she’s asking you,” he says, clearly amused at my expense.
“It’s your thing, I don’t even know where it’s at.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one who shot her wall and woke her up.”
“You’re the one who tried to sneak through my window.” Why is he being so obstinate? I don’t even know what the circumstances of the party are, or if it would be appropriate to chain invites to it. It doesn’t seem to be a knightly pride thing of avoiding admitting fault. He just seems to want me to be the one to make the invitation for some reason.
He’s acting like Alan, making a show of mystery.
“Boys,” Emily says with exaggerated exasperation, “I don’t care who invites me, but if you keep dallying, I might feel insulted.”
I blush again, but Ser Terrance is completely unperturbed. Fine. “Lady Salhal, would it please you to accompany us to the party at, as far as I know, a rat infested hovel next to a cesspond?” I say with as much grace as I can manage while still hanging off the wall by Ser Terry’s arm.
“Why, I’d be delighted,” she says amused and without hesitation. “I could freeze it so we can skate.”
“Wonderful… assuming we can get this bolt loose.”
“Hmm, yes… You’re wearing gloves in this heat? I assume they’re enchanted?” she asks.
“Yes…?” A bit sudden to be asking about apparel.
“For heat protection?”
“Yeah…”
“Great, change your hands around.”
We hesitantly comply so that I’m the one holding onto the bolt and Ser Terrance is hanging off me. A bit awkward since while I’m strong enough to hold myself up indefinitely, my muscles immediately begin to strain with Ser Terrance’s weight.
Panic grips me as she begins casting and I realize her intent. It’s not a primary enchantment! I want to shout, but her spell finishes before I can. Freezing pain penetrates the glove, but I force myself to keep hold – if I let go the wall will have time to contract to match the shrinking metal and it’ll be even more stuck than before.
Then with a pop the bolt slides free and we’re tumbling to the ground. I try to get my feet under me but Ser Terrance gets in my way, as I do him. Our feet do hit first, but slide out from under us with a thump as our rears hit the ground.
I hear a chuckle from above, but when I look Emily’s face is stoney smooth.
“Stay right there,” she whispers, trusting Terrance to hear and convey the message to me, “I’ll be down in a minute.” Then she disappears from the window, leaving us alone.
I immediately toss the freezing bolt aside. No doubt I would have lost a hand were I not wearing gloves. I probably would have lost skin if the gloves were mundane. Even Terrance might have lost some. It was reckless of her to do something like that without knowing the limits of the enchantment.
I suppose I could have just gone to the infirmary if something had happened. The academy does retain perhaps the largest collection of mage healers in the empire precisely because of how often students injure each other while testing out new spells.
I probably would have come to the same conclusion. It was the only way to remove the bolt, and the worst that would happen was having to explain to the mage on duty how I got frostbite on a warm summer night, much easier than explaining how my bolt got lodged in a wall.
Still, a feeling of dissatisfaction lingers. Shaking the feeling off I cast my shield spell, cloaking myself in the warmth of near imperviousness to physical harm.
“What’s with that?” Ser Terry asks as the shield flickers briefly into visibility before vanishing.
“Hmm? Of, I just always cast it before going out.”
“Is that necessary in the capital?”
I shrug. “It’s a habit I learned from places where it was.”
“… It has to be draining to keep your defences up all the time.”
“…A little. But it gets easier the more you do it, besides, it’s good training for my path.”
“…Right… you know you still haven’t apologized for shooting me.”
“I didn’t shoot you. You shot yourself.”
“Oh. That’s how it’s going to be then.”
“I suppose so.”
Emily reappears at her window in an elegant and simple (for a noble) blue dress a moment later to find us angled away from each other, refusing to look. She climbs over her window and makes to jump. I hope she doesn’t expect me to catch her… Ser Terrance probably will.
My concern is proven moot as her descent is slowed to a crawl by some unseen force, her dress not even flapping in the wind, before gracefully landing. “What? Did you two fight?” She asks, noting our postures.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Something like that,” Ser Terrance says glancing expectantly towards me then sighs upon receiving no response and leads the way out of the courtyard.
Not wanting to talk about Ser Terrance, I ask about the slow fall magic. “An impressive effect. Spell or item?” It seemed flight magic related, which means likely advanced concepts.
“Oh, spell. Just a byproduct from failing to learn something else.”
“Something you failed to learn? Sounds interesting,” I say just a little bit gloating at learning of a failure from the genius mage.
“Oh, not really. Just some custom spell I was dabbling with to subvert one of the Rothhal paradoxes. I feel like I was close when the eye revealed the alternate path. It was a bit of a dilemma as to whether I should have taken it. No doubt I could have gotten something much better had I resolved the paradox and losing that progress as the price was painful. But there was no guarantee success was possible, and this spell was useful enough, if hardly unique. Plus, it seemed like a good foundation for future spells.”
“Right,” I say, rightfully chastised for my pettiness. Of course, her failures are in figuring out the fundamental mysteries of magic theories and result in learning a custom spell while most who waste their time on such things gain nothing. I mean, what a humble brag. It’s annoying how she doesn’t even seem to realize she’s doing it. So irritating.
“Anyways, where is this place, Ser Terrance?” I ask as we walk along a canal.
Ser Terrance regards me cooly then turns and gives the answer to Emily. “The party is just outside the academy grounds in a house by the river.”
“Who’s hosting it, and how many people are going to be there?” I press.
He answers while still looking at Emily. “I met the host at a guest lecture. His parents are teachers for the school, and so lives close enough that he doesn’t need a dorm. They’re away right now at their home by the exterior campus. He said he’s inviting ‘everyone’ and I should feel free to invite anyone I know. So, your addition won’t be a problem if you were worried about that.”
“How courteous of you to assuage me,” Emily says with a hand raised to her mouth to conceal, no, to draw attention to her obvious smile of amusement. He is of course doing this in the most irritating way possible – answering my questions, but in a way as if he just so happened to think that Emily might want to know instead of because I asked.
Whatever, if he wants to pretend he’s not talking to me, there will be plenty of others at the party.
The description of ‘by the river’ was not inaccurate, except in that it is an understatement. A more apt description is that the river defines the shape of their rather expansive backyard and has a small dock with a row boat tied to it.
The host, an average looking youth not obviously a mage or squire, greets us by the door. “Terry! Glad you could make it. The others have just started to arrive.”
“Oh, good. We were delayed coming here.” Terrance turns to us. “This is Jason Derehal, our host. Jason, this is Emily Salhal, the genius ice mage from Port Salunt,” he pauses for her to curtsy and formally declare her pleasure, “and this is Malichi Monhal from… farther west I believe. He doesn’t like surprises.” He takes a spiteful tone at the end.
I cough in surprise at the last bit, but manage to express my formal pleasure as is proper.
“Well,” Jason says, clearly not sure what to do with the tension between us, “please make yourselves at home.” He gestures for us to enter.
We find our way to a large chamber at the centre of the house with a few dozen fellow youths milling about and chatting, with servants going about with serving trays. I grab a glass of wine then groan as I spot Erik Hanhal making his way towards us.
“Lord Hanhal, how pleasant to see you again,” I lie through gritted teeth.
“Yes,” He smiles back, “I’ve heard you’ve been getting along with my sister.”
“Yes... I suppose.” Is that what we’ve been doing? Getting along? I suppose that isn’t wholly inaccurate.
“Like I predicted.” He beams with pride and a ‘I told you so’ face.
“…If you’re going to be like that then I’ll switch my answer to no.”
“uh… wait what… oh,” his expression rapidly shifts from panic non-understanding to a smug ‘I don’t believe you’.
I sigh before catching a perplexing look from Ser Terry. I can’t quite make out all the emotions in it, but a strangely forceful ‘who is this?’ makes its way through.
“Of course, how rude of me,” I say, gesturing to the two I walked in with. “This is Squire Erik Hanhal, who chided me during the archery test.”
“That wasn’t a necessary…” Hanhal starts, but I interrupt him.
“This is Emily Salhal, the genius ice mage from Port Salunt,” she side eyes me for copying Terry’s introduction, but I move on. “And this is Ser Terrance Presley, from who knows where. He doesn’t respect personal boundaries. I’m certain the two of you will get along.”
“Of course… pleased to meet you,” Hanhal says, hesitant at the tension, but making the appropriate gestures to the two of them.
“Likewise,” the two respond, Ser Terry giving me a side eye for the retaliatory introduction.
“Fantastic,” I say, irony kept from my voice, “now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I see over there.” I technically don’t lie as there are several people in the direction I indicate, I just don’t know any of them.
“Malichi! Ser Terry!” I groan inwardly as a familiar exuberant voice calls from behind us. I was just about to get away… I mean, I don’t think I never want to see Ser Terry again, but I don’t want to spend the rest of the night in this tension.
I turn to see the cowardly youth from the team fights coming towards us with Adrian Blakerhal following slowly behind.
“Hey,” I say with a smile towards Adrian who returns the gesture, “sorry I was unable to go to that lecture. Unlucky scheduling conflict.”
“It happens, quite all right.” They respond amiably.
“Well, do invite me again if there’s something else you think I’d be interested in, and oh,” I turn to the youth, “I suppose this means you got in?”
“Yes!” he beams, “thanks to you!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say, “they threatened to dock everyone’s points because of me.”
“Seriously?” Sery Terry asks with far too much mirth.
“Yeah, for the explosions thing.”
“But they only made the rule after you did it!” the youth exclaims.
“Yes, well, as I said it was only a threat. I think they just wanted to see how I reacted to it during the interview.”
“Excuse me, the explosion thing?” Erik asks.
“Oh, during the breakthrough test I tricked the opposition into hitting their own teammates with fireballs by emulating the light from the light walls.”
“That was you?” Erik says, clearly amused, “I suppose I should have guessed. We were wondering why a rule was added during the middle of our test, and we heard rumours about it after. It does sound just like something you would do.”
I scowl in annoyance. “You’ve only met me once before now, that’s hardly enough to know what ‘something I’d do’ might be.”
“Still, it tracks,” he says, completely unmoved by my reasoning. “But I take it these two were on your team?”
“Oh, yes, introductions. This is Squire Erik Hanhal, an archer. Erik, this is Addrian Blackerhal, an illusion specialist, and this is…” I try to reach back to his introduction, but my memory comes up blank.
“You… don’t remember my name?” The youth asks, clearly hurt.
“…Apologies,” I say, not knowing what else to.
“Oh, no problem. I’m sure I was just beneath your noble notice.” He half mutters to himself.
“Ah, yes. Of course, that’s right.” I say, projecting confidence. Ser Terry glares at me, indicating that was not the correct response, but I ignore him as we’re still not talking.
Adrian chuckles, then speaks consolingly as attention is drawn to them. “I believe you were sharing some news with me when you spotted our friends?”
The youth immediately perks up. “Oh yes, have you heard? Count Jessica Vithal is going to be one of our teachers!”
“The war hero?” [criminal] I ask, flashing back to my brief encounter with her. A figure floating high above raining cascade orbs down on us as we fled in terror, a mage from another cell screaming her name before getting hit.
“Really?! I didn’t see her name on any of the classes.” Erik says, clearly sharing some of the youth’s enthusiasm.
“That’s because she’s filling in for a teacher who’s going on sabbatical,” the youth says.
“I see, which class then?” Erik asks eagerly.
“Um, applied divinations I think.”
“Oh…” Erik says, clearly disappointed.
“Something wrong with applied divination?” I ask, defensive of my speciality, and too distracted at the realization that she’s likely the one who’s replacing Count Therinhal to hide it.
“Well, yeah, it’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” Erik says.
“I fail to see how. It’s a vital part of modern warfare.” I counter.
“Certes, you have to have specialists on your side, but they don’t actually do anything in the end, do they? They just cancel out the enemy while the enemy cancels out them. Ultimately, it’d be the same result if neither side brought them.”
Adrian smirks knowingly at him, then gestures to me. “You’re talking to someone who got the highest score in the history of the breakthrough test off the back of applied divination.”
Erik gives me an embarrassed, apologetic look. “I see, I suppose I have much to learn about the subject.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, well, let’s just say applied divination is a fitting subject for her to teach. After all, she invented the technique for aiming cascade orbs with divinations from over the horizon.”
Erik blinks in surprise. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“Wouldn’t that risk hitting civilians?” The youth asks in horror.
“Yeah,” I say tersely, as if that should be so obvious as to not be worth asking. A mistake as it betrays emotion, but it doesn’t seem anyone picked up on it.
“Forgive me,” says Ser Terry, “I am a foreigner, and so haven’t heard of this person.”
“Oh, she’s famous for her fighting the rebels in Caethlon,” the youth explains.
“Yes,” Erik agrees, “there were a number of stories that made it back here during the insurgency. Most noticeable was her killing the chief rebel, Tanyth, which reportedly ended most of the fighting.”
My head snaps to him at this revelation. “I hadn’t heard that last detail… besides, you make it sound like Tanyth was the head of the whole rebellion.”
“Was she not?” Adrian asks, hidden meaning thick in their voice.
I hesitate. I’m clearly being suspicious, and Addrian is picking up on it, but completely backing out would be more suspicious. “Oh, I guess from my position on the border I heard that she was just one of many leaders in the rebellion, and that she died because the fighting was nearing its end, not the other way around.”
Adrian stares contemplatively before finally nodding in agreement. “Yes, I suppose I’ve heard something similar.”
“That’s another thing I don’t understand, why do you keep on calling them rebels?” Ser Terry asks, interjecting himself into the awkwardness. “Aren’t rebels those who reject established rule, rather than those who fight against a conquest?”
Adrian shifts their inquisitive gaze to Ser Terry, then smiles as if explaining to a small child. “You misunderstand. Remember, their king surrendered to us and ordered them to do likewise. Therefore, they were not rebelling against us, but against their own king.”
My stomach twists from the sophism, but familiarity with the argument keeps the disgust from my face.
“I see, that’s an interesting perspective.” Ser Tery says, for some reason looking at me.
The conversation is interrupted by a jubilant shout from our host. “Good noble guests! It is my greatest of pleasures to announce the arrival of their Imperial Highnesses, Vincent and Avery Halinmal!”
Keep Imperial Name?
