One week. One short week left. It was funny how whenever she wanted time to just slow down for a few moments it always seemed to speed by even more. She wished that she actually had that time she had when she was without all the extra duties to actually take in life, take in the beauty of the school that she'd called her home for the last five years since she was fourteen. Maybe then she would've noticed more than just the sweeping arches that the Skrill wing offered.
Each of the six wings that branched out from the central hall was owned symbolically by a country that didn't hesitate in the slightest to show their cultures with pride. Skrill provided its students with a vast array of social spaces, from its hedged gardens to the lounge located in the middle of all its dormitories, decked out with the finest fabrics from all seven countries and decorated with delicate oil paintings that depicted Skrill's victories is battle since it's founding. The Skrill wing was most recognisable for its dark wooden beams, symbolic of Rushwood Forest deep in its capital, Abamere. It was also known for its masterfully crafted stained glass windows, most commonly possessing hues of green, blue and black - though this usually would've caused the Skill wing to be the worst-lit wing by far.
Wisteria didn't miss the opportunity to line their wing with fine marble and gold carvings of griffins perched above their candles, they also possessed the warmest wing as the sun remained on them in the mornings when everyone was waking up, which would've been more pleasant than the cold wisps that brushed up against her whenever she was getting dressed in the mornings. Kirkbeck had vines of ivy creeping around the cracks in its walls and possessed a lounge deep into the lower floors of the school that was rumoured to serve meals for its students that missed hall times and some of the best parties that the school had ever had. But that was rumours spread by the giggles of the Kirckbeck students along with the students of Hythnall and Anaphelia who tended to be invited to anything and everything, somehow always attending
The Ceer wing had fishtanks wrapping around the walls, illuminated by the faint glow of the coral at night. The tanks were embellished by swirling metal designs made out of tridents that had been molded to the shape of waves. Naturally, they spent the most time by the school's lake, Lake Zycrid, which extended far out into the horizon, only ending at the boundary of the steep mountains that encased the valley that held the school. Part of their curriculum was that they had to be by the lake for an hour a week learning different skills, though she was uncertain they actually did anything other than play in the lake. Zealia's wing was lined with statues of their great historical figures, not the most settling corridor to wander around at night at all. The best part of Zealia's wing was its extensive library, a true marvel with its grand architecture; spiraling pillars of sandstone, rows upon rows of books and magnificent murals on its great ceiling. She'd only visited it once in order to collect a book for Professor Mycil and she was forever grateful to be able to see what normally only Zealian students saw.
Anaphaelia's wing was a rustic haven for animal lovers with a large section of its land devoted to animals that were usually found in its mountainous regions which they had many of. Its architecture was also mostly based on the hardwood cabins that were found in those regions too, with wooden shutter windows and beams made of wood along with most of its embellishments. Nonetheless, some of her most valuable lessons were taught in that wing such as political history with Professor Mycil - the lesson frustrated her but it didn't mean she wasn't interested in its content- and diplomacy with Professor Kendrick which tended to turn into an argument over rights.
Finally you had Hythnall, which wasn't as much of a mystery to her as the others, it wasn't to anyone. Hythnall possed the centre of all the wings, with the hall, entrance hall and main library falling under their area. Historically, the reason for this was that Hythnall acted as the neutral party in the signing of the Treaty of Zycrid and in its ancient borders, before they were redrawn to cement their alliance with Anaphaelia, the school was originally built by Hythnall to be given up to implement the idea of the school. That didn't mean that Hythnall had any less of their culture on display. For most, these areas were their favourite place to be with their characteristic orange and yellow palette on display in every inch of space, from its curtains to its banners and sofas that were available every few metres with a basket of fluffy red blankets available at the end of each corridor. Wooden carvings decorated its walls with each carving representing an annual festival important to the country's history and beliefs such as the festival of Odalach which celebrated the goddess of summer on the second Monday of the month of June. Odalach was usually celebrated every year at the end of term with a ball that was also used to celebrate the graduates of that year.
The last week of school was to tie up the loose ends of everything, complete any training and give the final advice. She'd finished Etiquette, Political History, Law and Writing already; all that remained was Diplomacy and Combat. Combat took place in Skrill's hall, a high-ceilinged room that always had a chilled breeze even with the streaks of light streaming in and the windows tightly closed; it was set up with different obstacle courses and other more academic stations so, it was usually the crossover lesson between those who would be in the high court or the military which led to her and Cressida meeting early in their first year. It was a requirement to come to the class in training gear which usually involved light wear then leather guards on the shins and elbows for obstacles and on the chest when dueling. For the last lesson, she'd opted to bring all of her gear after all, when else would she get the chance to duel once they returned home?
She nodded at Cressida as she walked other to her, tying her hair in a tight bun whilst doing so, she'd made the mistake of leaving it in a ponytail a long time ago in a duel with Mirella who had no honour, the hall was relatively empty with most electing to skip the last lesson to enjoy swimming in the lake.
"Finally going to let me accept Mirella's challenge?" Cressida smirked as she poked the gear tightly strapped to her chest, her own bound tightly as she moved as if it was a second skin, lunging into unoccupied space with her sword striking through, splitting the air with a sharp crackle.
"For politics of course."
"Pfff... you just want to be able to kick Estelle before he becomes a king."
"Like I said, politics," she nudged her over to Mirella and Estelle before she began her own stretches in the corner of the hall, wincing as she cracked her knuckles and slipping her sword out from its sheath, tracing the spiralled design of the handle that was inscribed with the emblem of the royal family. They'd funded her equipment since she'd been selected to become Olga's advisor two years prior after she impressed many of her Professors in her first three years whilst also being the president of the school's political society since her third year, much to the dismay of Estelle who'd also campaigned for the position.
"I hear you're my opponent, I haven't seen you here in a while, hope you're not too rusty," Estelle commented as he stepped closer to her, a smirk everpresent on his lips as his eyes scanned her. She couldn't help but do the same. The man who was to stand opposite to her on the battlefield sharing simple taunts with her, a man who she'd known since they were merely reckless children slamming grueling punches at each other to try to live up to the expectations everyone had of them. She had a scar on her cheek as a memento of their meetings and he had one on his lip, though he got off lightly his wasn't as jagged as hers and didn't completely contrast with his skin. She liked to think she could easily get under his skin with simple taunts that would always get some kind of reaction and made it her mission to always counter him in debates, something he obviously despised.
"You're only wishing that Estelle, you wouldn't be able to handle me if I wasn't," she twirled her sword in her hands as they began circling each other their footsteps mirroring in an exact routine. He would shift slightly on his left foot before he made a lunge, it was slight but the gear at his knee would crinkle when he did.
She caught his strike and with it; his stare as they continued to push against each other, panting as their strikes became more violent and brutal, but kept their accuracy and the form that had been polished over the years, "I don't think anyone could handle you if they tried Blackheath," he caught her wrist, wrestling her sword out of her grip and chucked it out of her immediate reach, "your fingers curl when you want to make a move," rolling her eyes at him, she gripped the handle of his own sword and began to pull, their duel instead became a tug of war as she did so.
He tripped backwards, dragging her down with him as he refused to let go, both of them grunting at the harsh impact of his back on the floor. She huffed at his stubbornness and pinned him down with her knees on his arms before he could drag the sword out of her grip. She smirked when she pried the sword out of his hand, triumphantly staring down at him as he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You're weak on the floor," she finally replied to him, panting as she continued to gaze at him; the clanging of swords and yells were everpresent as they remained silent.
Quickly slipping his arms to grip her legs more, he picked her up and swung her underneath him, switching his positions and removing the smirk that had appeared on her face as her back hit the mat with a thud; now he looked down at her triumphantly, "so are you."
She squirmed in her place and kicked her legs about, yelling out in frustration as she caught the amused light to his eyes, "you're a dick," she mumbled when she finally gave in. Both of them took deep breaths when he moved off of her, a sheen of sweat drenching them both but, beauty wasn't everything when their limbs were aching too much to care.
Chuckling to himself he shifted his head to the right, to her, "you hate me," he spoke with full seriousness then, no stupid smirk, no raised eyebrow, no bright eyes, just truth.
She pursed her lips, and there it was. She knew that that would have to happen soon, she never liked him of course, he believed that he could bully her people and saunter away like some kind of hero and he took pleasure in scaring the first years but, she didn't want to hate someone because they no longer had the protection of being children. "I am loyal to Olga and Olga only, if that comes with it then yes I would."
"Well," he sighed as he picked up his sword, "there's your princess," he nodded to Olgo who was waiting for her at the doors before he walked away from her and towards Mirella and Cressida's duel that had shifted into a wrestling match.
Shaking her head, she made her way towards Olga. Her always bright smile was present and her tight coils of hair were loose to her shoulder, a change to the tight hairdos she always wore; they suited her of course, she just seemed freer like that with no official clothes on with dull colours, but a light yellow dress with skirts that hung just above her knees and a crown of daisies in her hair.
"Hey, How come you're here? I didn't think you were into this kind of thing,"
"Well," tugging at the straps of the satchel that rested across her torso, she smiled meekly at her, "I was wondering whether you'd want to go to the graduation ball with me... to get to know each other? I already trust your abilities and judgement with my life, I've seen what you can do in negotiations and other situations. I just... I need to actually know you. And I'm not talking about the Ivy who's trying to be the perfect student and person."
Cressida and Mirella were still fighting across from them, Estelle sat near them on one of the wooden benches but he was staring at one spot on the floor with his hands intertwined on his lap. She shook her head to herself, "I'd love to. Wouldn't there be questions considering, I mean I'm a woman."
"All they should be questioning is how stunning you are. Everything else they should keep to themselves," her face felt warm either from the adrenaline that she still had or her words, she could only hope she hadn't gone the bright red colour that Cressida and Norah said she went when she was flustered.
"Of course, do you um..." She cleared her throat, glancing back to the other side of the hall, "Do you have a colour at all in mind?"
"Burgundy. It goes well with your eyes, and mine, of course, I'll ask for something to get sent for you. So," she stepped away from her, out of the opening to the hall and into the corridor, "I'll meet you after oaths?"
"Yeah," breathless, she watched as she walked away from her, her hair bouncing with each step.
"How have you got a date then?"
"Oh shut up."
Oaths were the part before the annual graduation ball and, in her opinion, the most stressful part of the year. It wasn't the ideal thing to have to take an oath in front of the whole school to someone like Olga and then kneel in front of her without going bright red or tripping; she'd seen too many falls over the years and they'd been engrained in the front of her mind each time. She'd have to speak too. Obviously, in her career she'd be talking in front of people but, in those circumstances, she'd actually somewhat want to be there a bit. Who'd want to do something like that in front of a bunch of your classmates?
Like any other year, Hythnall had decorated the hall masterfully, with the theme of the school's colours of light blue and white carried out throughout the banners and curtains. Rows upon rows of seats were filled with every student from every class and every country. The first few rows were taken up by the graduating year and the Professors, each row back was filled by decreasing ages with the oldest having the prime view of the wooden stage. The stage itself had three seats in the middle for the headmaster and two deputies then, one chair on each side of them was added for the heirs or royalty that was graduating that year in order for oaths of service to be taken in front of them. That year they would be filled by Olga and Estelle so, the seat to the far right was draped with a tapestry made of only hues of green and black whilst on the seat to the far left the tapestry was gold and light grey. Then, besides either of those chairs was another for the advisor that would be sworn into each royal.
She was sat on the front row of seats, on the chair closest to the aisle that went down the middle of the seats with Mirella to her right; they would both take the highest ranking oaths that year, her as an advisor to Olga and him as Estelle's advisor too but also his eventual Chancellor. The worst part about that was that they had to sit through every other oath and speech until it was their turn as they would end the event with their oaths.
"Ivy Blackheath."
Maybe she'd forgotten to pay attention and maybe Mirella elbowed her side when she hadn't actually realised what she was meant to do because she was too busy thinking about anything and everything. But, overthinking wouldn't help her.
Clenching her hands tightly, she pulled her arms to her sides and concentrated on each step she had to take first, towards the stairs and second, to Olga. Their eyes were on her as she did so, as she pulled up her skirt to get up the stairs, as she brushed past Estelle, as she stopped in front of Olga, their eyes meeting hesitantly on one side but, reassuringly on the other.
She held the stare as she kneeled before her.
"Do you Ivy Mariah Blackheath swear to give your life to your service to Princess Olga Anastasia Kach of Skrill?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to advise her to the best of your ability?"
"I do."
"Do you swear that you will remain to loyal to her and to her family?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to follow her every command?"
"I do."
"Princess Olga Anastasia Kach of Skrill, do you accept Ivy Mariah Blackheath as your trustee?"
"I do."
"Do you accept her loyalty?"
"I do."
"Do you accept her service?"
"I do."
"Rise."
They continued to hold that stare as she stood at her full height and offered her hand to Olga, waiting patiently as she slowly intertwined their fingers. Her hand was cold to the touch, even the soft graze as their fingers brushed against each other cooled her clammy hands slightly and warmed her cheeks. She raised their hands to the crowd, receiving a cheer as they did so.
"Presenting her royal highness Princess Olga Anastasia Kach of Skrill and her Advisor Ivy Mariah Blackheath."
They took their seats beside each other, letting go of each other's hands and faced the crowd; the cold never leaving her.
"I was right, you look stunning in the dress," Olga complimented her as they hung back in the corner of the hall, the seats had been pushed to the sides and only the graduating year remained as the ball went into full swing late at night. Heels were abandoned along the sides of the walls and beside tables and ties were flung like streamers long ago once the doors had been closed, keeping the younger years out. The only light that remained was from the crystal chandeliers that were only brought out for occasions such as this and the music was provided by some of the bands that had been established over the years with varying degrees of talent.
Olga had given her a burgundy dress as promised, with flowing skirts that rippled whenever she made the slightest movements and a high neckline. She'd attempted to wear heels, but her fear of falling over at the Oaths made her abandon them for boots that were covered by the fabric of her dress anyway. Olga's dress had a lower neckline and many more layers of fabric in the skirt, the bodice was detailed in fine lace that was cut off by ribbon around her waistline. The long cape that she had worn at the start of the evening was somewhere around the hall, it had been discarded when they'd rushed to the middle of the hall to start dancing and her tiara was removed after Oaths.
"Not even a touch compared to you," she believed every word uttered from her lips, as she danced with her, the dim light magnetic to her eyes and illuminating her features, the after-affect of being blessed by a higher being that bowed before her the same as she had earlier that day, she realised that if she were to ever see a more beautiful sight, it would have to be in death.
"I'm trying to compliment you, don't change the conversation to me. You've done that enough tonight, I feel like you know too much about me compared to what I know about you," they both laughed as they failed at weaving down and under their arms, ending up in a tangled mess.
"Not true, you know a lot about me through your questions."
"Not as much as I want to."
"You know about my fear of bees, barely anyone knows about that."
"Wow, I feel so honoured," she smiled at her, her eyes dancing in amusement as they stared down at her.
Over her shoulder, she watched as Norah and Cressida signalled over to her with exaggerated movements standing by the doors with bottles and boxes of food they'd stolen. Cressida began gesturing with her fingers when she only rolled her eyes in return.
"I'm sorry but, I promised my friends I'd be with them for a tradition we do every year..."
She turned her body to where her eyes flitted to, glancing down at their intertwined hands for a second, "promise me you'll tell me on the carriage home what this tradition is?"
"Deal," she faltered after she'd taken a step, "Olga."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for tonight... I enjoyed it, with you."
She only smiled in response as their eyes latched onto each other again for a few seconds before she continued to walk over to where the others had disappeared to.
Even in the summer, the corridors were freezing at that time of night, sending even the thickest of skins into a shiver. Wandering the corridors alone wasn't exactly her plan when she rushed out of the door but it seemed that fate had decided it to be. But as she stepped into the Ceer Wing, the familiar face wasn't one that she'd expected to see.
His face was illuminated by the glow of the tanks as he stared in, his body frozen in one position, full of tension in his stance. The grey blazer he'd worn throughout the night was folded in his hands and the white shirt left underneath was creased at the back, but tight around his upper back and shoulders. The white line on his lips glowed like an intentional design in his statue, along with the faint stubble along his jaw and the unkempt but somehow perfect state of his chestnut hair.
"You weren't who I was expecting to be here," he was silent as she stepped towards him, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the hollow shell of the corridors at night.
"It's my favourite place here," his voice was raw, scratchy even as if a file had scraped against his vocal cords fraying away the strength of his tone.
"I don't blame you," there was something about just standing there and watching the fish swim around and doing whatever they wanted, unaware of anything that was going on outside the tank that would also calm her down, make her unaware too.
"Your friends went back to your wing, they thought I was a Professor," his eyes were puffy and bloodshot but refused to even glance near her as though she wasn't there.
"Oh, thanks," she wanted to ask but, why would she? Who was he even to her, "Estelle, I know we've had our difference but... I hope that fate is merciful on the both of us.."
She didn't once turn back... she didn't want to see how human he really could be.