Chapter 24

  The Interrogation

  “When the authorities are on to you, closing a net. The easiest way to get out for a major crime, is to be pulled in for a minor crime. They will continue their investigation, never knowing that you are right there the entire time.” -Marcon on why he started that bar fight.

  “What an unusually dark shade of black your hair is,” The matron Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian commented.

  Her words piercing through Arla as she walked by, trying to leave a class where she spoke little, participated minimally, and gave as few indications of her knowledge of the language as possible.

  Hearing those words caused an instant realization of fear to rise in her, as it was clear that the black used in her modified way was meant to cover her now bright blue hair. Hair that would not be able to absorb typical hair dyes. Instead, she had to use a coating mixture that along with other common ingredients would be able to be woven in and over her strands daily to form a perfect mixture.

  The only detriment to her process was that if she ever got a haircut, her stalks of hair would glow, just at the tips. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. Which was why Arla always cut her own hair, learning to stylize her hair from an early age.

  Yet, there were markings and distinctions one could notice. Coating in such a way used to leave universal bumps and previously made it so one side would be thicker in volume. Whereas recently, that is since her marking of a second system, he has had to dye all of her hair in a similar manner. Which meant the volume appeared the same, but now there were inconsistencies with her approach to hair care.

  Chole, her roommate, had asked about her odd grooming habits once. But then seemed to understand that Arla was poor.

  “If you’d like, I could pay for a haircut,” she offered.

  That comment hit a bit harder than she had originally expected, as she seemed to genuinely want to help out as best she could. It was also clear from Arla’s barebones’ management to life that she was poor. Or at the very least, she was used to not having money and to being as self-sufficient as possible. Seeing her standard of living, rather than scoffing, or rebuking her as most would, as most of this campus had, Chloe offered to help.

  No obligations or ulterior motives, at least none that Arla could see. Instead, Chole just wanted to help out someone less fortunate. To Arla that meant a lot, which played heavily into Arla wanting to ensure that Chole was not pulled into whatever schemes the Cerusians were currently plotting.

  It was clear from this own hag’s words that she did not want to be here.

  Then remembering her own faux pas from earlier, Arla realized that this too might be a test. For the diplomat once again spoke in the Cerusian language. Further analysis showed that the inflections and tones used were of a dignified cadence. Meaning that Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian was speaking to someone of great respect. At least, that is what her words seemed to say, while her body posture was the same as she had used to tell everyone else, “goodbye and safe travels.”

  Realizing the trap for what it was, Arla responded.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Arla spoke in what was clearly broken Cerusian. In this case, she was acting, using the art of subterfuge to mask her true intentions. It was easy to butcher a language, longer and more drawn-out pauses. Pauses that she had spent over a month hearing from her own human instructor, Dr. Juric. Hearing him butcher the language day in and out was a clear example to follow in this case.

  “Nothing, I was just wishing you to have a great day, and safe travels,” Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian responded smoothly in the common tongue.

  Hearing that, Arla paused and seemed to look up to the right, as if recalling the exact wording used by the instructor. Then as a means to mess with her, decided to parrot back her exact wording to her.

  “What an unusually dark shade of black your cat is,” Arla repeated, remembering and butchering the phrasing. Purposefully switching out cat for hair, as they were both similar and could easily be replaced due to the longer stress on certain syllables.

  Chuckle.

  Hearing her speak, the other native Cerusians who had stayed behind to speak to the professor began to laugh.

  This was what Arla had intended, diversion away from her. The Cerusians too had legends about black cats causing disaster, and other ill tidings. Thus focusing on the cat and butchering the words enough, it caused many to mistakenly lower their guard around her.

  With their mocking reaction present, Arla instantly tensed up and with a shocked timid reaction looked at them, then back to the professor.

  “I’m sorry, did I say it wrong?” Arla asked, embarrassment clear in her tone and posture.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  With a forced placating smile, one that would likely send the males into a full melt down the space elf just smiled reassuringly.

  “No, my child, you are fine. But do you have an Eidetic Memory?” The temporary professor asked.

  “Yes, I used it to memorize many of your phrases from earlier today,” Arla began, then twisting the knife she began speaking. “What was the one about it being an honor and privilege to be here and help you learn about our wonderful culture and language?”

  Arla began, only pausing for a moment, letting the incident sink in. The moment when the professor seemed to glance at her constantly during her speech, only afterwards did Arla realize she was likely the only one in the room who could understand what was being said.

  Once again, Arla looked up and to the right, trying to remember the exact wording that the professor had used.

  “Know that I am not here for myself, or out of any sense of duty, but for the fact that my witch of a Matriarch asked for this,” Arla stuttered out, again purposefully butchering the annunciation of the language and messing up the words just enough to make it seem like the doctor had badmouthed her own matriarch in front of a classroom of heathens, knowing that the words would never get back to her Matriarch.

  Silence.

  The students who had been laughing at the cat comment earlier were not laughing, as they all turned to look at the professor.

  It was clear that the words spoken were not ones that would be spoken by a normal student, particularly not one who had not been exposed to Cerusian. Also, the fact that this statement, even if factually false got back to the Matriarch herself or higher delegates, then it might reflect poorly. Almost as if saying they didn’t care for this mission and were just here to placate an old boss unworthy of listening to.

  Even the professor looked stunned at the near perfect recitation of her comments back to her.

  For a moment the professor stood there in slack jawed amazement, before her mind began conducting damage control.

  “Oh, my dear, you do have an amazing memory, but I think part of the issue is your human tongue and vocal cords that have not been developed enough to properly speak and hear the sounds that are uttered.” Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian began, her words and tone in full damage control as she made quick glances out of the side of her face to the students.

  Many of the students who were in the classroom with Arla just stared in near amazement at her, while the others just looked at the professor like she was spouting blasphemy.

  “Can you truly speak back our language after just hearing it once?” One of the students asked, her words went to Cerusian and Arla wanted to respond, but she was still playing her role.

  “Wow, that is so beautiful,” Arla responded in common, then tried to parrot it back, “can you truly spray back our language after hearing things?”

  The words and tones weren’t easy for a nonpracticing humanoid to reproduce.

  Yet, Arla kept up the same fa?ade, stressing the words she could, while hyperstressing words or syllables that were not easy enough to hear or repeat in common.

  There were tones and inflections, words and syllables of power, each of which Arla pretended to miss and not be able to perceive at all.

  The end result meant that Arla would stand out, but for the exact wrong reasons.

  Rather than being some gifted prodigy, she would stand out as a person with eidetic memory who could parrot back their conversations and likely misquote them, as the comment about the esteemed matriarch hinted.

  Using the logic of Marcon, the idea was to not fly under the radar, but to be so apparent that the Cerusians would want to steer clear of her and by extension anyone who was within her orbit while she out and about.

  It was a lot harder to have clandestine meetings in the open, when there was someone who could inadvertently repeat your words and phrases nearly perfectly.

  At least, this was Arla’s plan while following this crazy plan.

  “Oh, with your adaptive mind, we should put you in our advanced class,” Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian stated, her words seeming to try to sound far too sweet.

  Just an odd resonance of the words, the same way one would try to sound nice to a child who was near a ledge and could be startled off, if spoken to in any way other than inviting. Being as this was not their native language, the professor likely had no understanding of just how disconcerting her words sounded. Which was good, as it let Arla feel a bit more of the deeper emotions being held at bay by the professor.

  “That sounds amazing!” Arla began, fully embracing the act, figuring that the professor would back down. Or likely use it as a way to scan her once more, and dismiss her.

  It was a cat and mouse game, one that Arla was ready to win.

  “This is wonderful, Yuyula, will you work with her to help her get ready for our program?” The professor asked, turning to the girl who butted into their conversation.

  For a moment, the Cerusian looked indignant at the comment, as if talking to a human was beneath her, but one look from the professor and a quick bow of her head she regained her composure and turned responded overly cheerfully.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Yuyula responded, her voice also dripping with poisoned honey.

  “Good, now if you will excuse me, I need to get ready for my next lecture,” the professor replied as she gestured for the other Cerusians to come with her, as she walked away. Clearly leaving the one lecture hall for languages, not that the professor likely cared that she was just trying to leave.

  With that Yuyula and Arla both stared at the procession that quickly left.

  As they left, so too did a small undertow of students and cadre. Everyone seemed was well enamored by the events that were unfolding and being able to say that they had seen and interacted with a Cerusian.

  From what Arla had gathered, a few of the students had bets going as to who could seduce any member of the Ceruisan delegation. Each class year taking ownership of their noted chance of seducing a Cerusian, winning bragging rights not only for themselves, but for their entire class as well.

  At least, this is what Arla had gathered from reading messages over the shoulder of other people throughout classes.

  While many students had gotten adept at hiding their personal message screens from the professors, few had developed countermeasures to prevent people with exceptional eyesight from reading over their shoulders. This along with countless hours of training made it so such actions were second nature, and she was mostly able to avoid many of the different conversations, while still being able to keep her pulse on the activities of the campus.

  Before Arla was going to go too far, she felt a presence off to her back left. Glancing back she saw Chloe, the very girl that Arla wanted to protect from unwanted scrutiny.

  “Yes, when would you…” Yuyula began, her voice dripping with condescension.

  Fortunately, Arla already had a backup plan as she looked back and saw Chloe who had come close, no doubt to hear what the Cerusian who stayed behind had to say to her roommate.

  Yes, Chloe was the primary source of Arla’s awareness of there being a competition with the Cerusians. So it only made sense that Chloe would remain nearby to hear what the Cerusian delegate had to say to her roommate.

  Never leaving a golden chance encounter to waste, Arla killed two potential issues with one maneuver.

  “Oh, right, I am so sorry Chloe, but we do have that thing to attend to,” Arla began, and then with a forced calm went over and swiftly grabbed Chloe’s arm in her own, looping her arm and proceeding to walk away with her.

  The move was so quick and abrupt that Chloe had almost no time to react and began walking forward. Then as expected, once they got to within a pace of Yuyula, Arla stopped moving, which Chloe had not anticipated and ended up stumbling and pulling Arla forward.

  “Oh right, we need to go, so sorry! See you next time!” Arla exclaimed as she began walking once more and went into a lock step motion with Chloe.

  Yuyula not quite aware of what just happened, nor how to handle such measures just watched on in shock. Then by the time she realized her target was away, she tried to move forward, only to then lose the two in a gaggle of cadets.

  The wall of onlookers that Arla and Chloe wandered into and through only managed to help the unaware Cerusian lose track of the two seemingly average cadets.

  Only once they were a few dozen paces away did Arla let go of Chloe’s arm long enough for her to stare in disbelief. Though Arla was not done walking as she continued her near sprint-like pace, despite here still walking.

  “Hey, wait up,” Chloe demanded, only to then sprint a few steps to finally catch up to the oddly rhythmical walking pattern used by Arla.

  Seeing that Arla was not slowing down, nor going to broach the subject, Chloe brought it up herself.

  “Do you mind explaining exactly what happened back there?”