—————
Have a little something to soothe that anxious feeling that something is quickly creeping up on you.
Like the fact that it's the last week of summer.
—————
Káel took the walk of shame, an elite on either side of him as he was paraded past the few students that hadn't turned in to their dorms for the night. He only recognised one face in his journey, Alestra, completely unsurprised by the sight as she gave him a small wave.
He didn't know which emotion deserved the spotlight. Worry gnawed at how the entire situation could be painted into any picture the Council pleased, panic grabbed for the closest way out, and anger festered at the thing that had caused all of this. He hissed out a sigh as Cursimian twitched under the dalem cuffs that had been slapped on him.
None of this would have happened if that ancient weapon had chosen someone else.
He felt one of the elites nudge his back, obediently walking into an empty meeting room as the door locked behind him. The moment of solitude was his chance. He ripped up his sleeve and glared at Cursimian. "Don't you ever do that again."
Stella perched on his shoulder. "He says you are a coward."
"A coward?" Káel scoffed, grabbing a quill off the table to try at jamming it's metal nub under Cursimian for leverage. "You know what? I didn't sign up for this." He loosed a sigh as the quill snapped in half. "Get off my arm. I'm not your master, go find an unstable serial killer to serve or something!"
A spark bit Káel's nose, the broken quill flying from his fingers as he rubbed away the nipping pain.
"He claims to have been following your orders," Stella replied,
"Ohh no- no no. Hell no. None of that screamed my consent," Káel snapped, trying to pull the bracer off his arm as the metal tightened. "Stella, when did I say Cursimian, please threaten to cut Mr. Greine to ribbons? Or even better, Cursimian, please choke this random student to death!?"
"He says that the thought was clear in your mind."
"Well I think you're stupid, and that you should get off my arm," Káel said, victory drawing his lips into a disappointed smile when Cursimian didn't budge. "Point proven. Next stop, Council storage unit for bipolar possessed weaponry!"
The door cracked open, Ariabella peeking in with a distinct shade of disappointment to her face. Káel didn't know if it was just the lighting on her sharp cheeks, but the scowl she wore was a little harsher than usual. "Keep your voice down, the walls are not soundproof."
Káel raised his open palms. "Look. Before you say anything-"
"Before you say anything," Ariabella cut in, allowing the door to slam itself shut as she claimed her seat with a navy blue coat. "Wait for Skyfell. Take a seat and collect yourself."
Káel complied with the request, sitting himself across from Ariabella to take a few deep breaths. He was relieved that the first person in the room other than him wasn't Mrs. Floyd, but still, he was dreading every syllable that would fly out of Skyfell's mouth.
Ariabella toyed with her white gloves, finally pulling them off to rest them on her lap as she soaked in the silence. "His majesty Elisious is pleased with your performance in the school teams and tournament."
Káel picked at the grains of auburn wood on the table, trying to hide his nerves with a pressed smile. Ariabella had never been the type to simply dish a compliment, which had him on his toes for the rest of her report.
She straightened herself, eyeing the wall as she tapped a tune with her fingers. "I suppose this is also a good time to say he is appalled by your academic performance."
"How is this a good time?"
Káel jumped from his seat as the door flew open, a silhouette filling the frame with barely any colour as Skyfell burst in with his own personal gust of air. "The Council has malice," he boomed, tossing his bag on the table with a sharp crack while a second guest followed him in.
Mr. Lightwood gave the room a grin, one fluffy white dragon curled in his arms. "Got that right, thought Floyd was going to bite a chunk out of me when I grabbed Puff."
Káel melted with relief at the sight of his guardian. "Puff!"
Puff let out a gasping warble, rolling out of Lightwood's arms to run across the table and into Káel's. They had been ripped away from one another as soon as the Council made it to the scene, and imagining what they could have done to him had plagued him without relent. He twisted Puff into a better position, his heart sinking at the silver cuff around the dragon's wrist.
"Stella, excuse us please," Mr. Skyfell said, waiting for her departure before throwing up a sound block enchantment. He dropped into his seat, leaving Lightwood to scrounge up the last seat right beside Káel. "We need to close all the holes we can. Lightwood, the book."
Mr. Lightwood slipped something onto the table, Káel catching a glimpse of a blue dragonscale cover as he flipped open the journal to flaunt its hand written notes. He had always wondered why Zalius' journal had gone after he summoned Phantom, it had been his assumption that the Council confiscated it with everything else in the room.
"Can you read that?"
Káel cautiously glanced at the notes, shaking his head at the coded gibberish.
"Lightwood has been gradually going through it. There are of course a number of outdated and presently illicit spells in there, one such being a powerful persuasion spell."
Káel stopped with confusion, "So we're arguing mind control? What will happen to Phantom if he's charged for that?"
"You should have thought like that before nearly killing one of your peers," Mr. Skyfell retorted, sincerity sucked from his words as he held Káel's gaze. "Your freedom is the priority for Alta Staar's sake, proving the Novan's innocence will have to be a secondary goal."
"That sounds assuring. How many Novans have been proven innocent before the Council?" Mr. Lightwood replied, pushing back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. "Something in the range of zero, was it?"
"That is correct," Skyfell replied. "With the potential body count on him, I don't think it would be wise to bring him to trial. That puts arguing mind control on the plate." He flipped through the blue snakeskin journal, a loose sketch of a brain sprouting intrigue in Káel. "I have invited Lightwood here for his expertise in engineering enchantments."
Káel shot Lightwood with a look of doubt, the words running from his lips. "Is there anything you're bad at?"
"Avoiding extra work that I'm not being paid for," he sighed, sinking down into his chair to make himself comfortable. He tossed his attention to Ariabella, greeted with just as much affability as usual. "Before we start, do I get a bonus if Káel wins the tournament?"
"There isn't time to waste with chatter. Griene will be on his way when he is done with that Louvre boy," Mr. Skyfell cut in, flipping to a marked page in Zalius' journal. "Zalius' works have a few spells of persuasion we could investigate. Lightwood, for the sake of this case, I need you to check Káel's mind as much as you can for enchantments."
"Alright, this is not going to feel good, Káel," Mr. Lightwood replied, popping his knuckles as a white glow tickled his fingertips.
Káel instinctively moved back, Puff squirming from his arms to run under the table. The white glow illuminating Lightwood's hands thankfully shattered before he could grab his scalp. Ariabella's reflexes quick enough to throw a three layered shield up around Káel and chain the teacher's hands with a weak seal. Her sudden actions were followed by an icy voice, the chill seizing the room as the hairs on the back of Káel's neck rose. "This was not discussed."
"We don't have time to discuss it with his majesty Elisious, even a trace of an enchantment will throw the next trial in our favour," Mr. Skyfell argued, "Do you not trust Lightwood?"
Her eyes steeled as she gazed at Skyfell. "I do not trust you."
Skyfell stopped, resting back into his chair with a heavy sigh. "We need to trust eachother right now."
"Your trust is earned through neutrality, but it looks to me as if you are serving your employer more than you are Káel," Ariabella retorted, leaving her hostility on Skyfell as she addressed the confused look on Káel. "Káel, if you prove mind control, a hunting squad will be immediately deployed to suppress Phantom. Do not mistake the Council members you have met to gauge its strength, Phantom will be in trouble if they choose to actively pursue him."
"If you lose this trial Káel, you'll never be able to back Phantom for his," Mr. Skyfell spoke, the weight of his gaze tugging Káel between the two.
He bit his tongue before a decision came out.
There had to be a win-win. A way out for both of them.
A way to find the real master behind the curtains before Phantom became a casualty of their play.
Everyone's attention was pulled by three curt knocks, the door opening to allow Stella back into the room followed by a slow and nearly timid peek from Mr. Greine. "I apologise if I'm interrupting, when can I interview Káel?"
"You will not speak to my client," Mr. Skyfell boomed, packing up his bag viciously enough to have Mr. Greine wincing. "It is well past nightfall, Káel needs rest. You'll get your story through what he has told me and Miss Augebelle." He waited for Ariabella to grab her things, respecting Káel with a curt nod as farewell. "Go straight to your room and rest up."
"He can't," Mr. Greine said, a nervous laugh slipping out when Skyfell seared him with his gaze. "Council... It's Council protocol. He can't have the opportunity to tamper or collude-"
"Lightwood, bring him a pillow and blanket so he can actually sleep," Skyfell barked, ripping the door out of Greine's hands to excuse himself. He caught Káel's gaze to disperse one last mission, spike licking at his voice like a hungry flame. "Piss on the most expensive thing in the room if they don't let you go to the bathroom, the Council will have to cover any damages incurred by incompetence."
Káel gave his farewells as everyone left the room, thanking his lucky stars he'd stopped by the washroom before tonight's entire fiasco. But as he gazed around the small room, his muscles were already stiff. From hardwood floors to a giant wooden table, there wasn't a single padded thing in the room.
"Káel Aeric, may I be honest with you?"
He glanced at Stella, opting for the distraction from thinking of where he could possibly sleep. He rested his chin on his palms to brace for another comment on his intelligence. "If you're nice about it."
"I wish to thank you and Cursimian." She perched on the table, trying to roll her body and mimic a bow of respect. "Your character is one I have not come by in my years with the Council. Many of us golems are destroyed for sport."
Káel frowned, his heart sinking at the words. She may have played his patience on a number of occasions, but Stella deserved some shred of respect by her peers. "I'm sorry to hear that." He rose a little as red caught his corner vision, the inked portrait of a ruby flumigan somehow giving him comfort. A flicker of familiarity. "So you really don't remember who you were before you died?"
"I do not, but I have grown used to my circumstances. Why do you ask?"
"Phantom is the same way. He doesn't remember who he was either," Káel mused, Stella's glow intensifying with what Káel assumed to be intrigue. "Except, I mean, he's not a spirit."
"I have heard that on Nova, there are fairytales of golems made of flesh and bone. Perhaps you are closer to the truth than you think."
He smiled at the theory, Stella's input actually turning some gears. "Maybe. Is there a way to bring the memories back?"
"It would depend on how they were lost. Soul amnesia acts similar to spells used to suppress memories - there is no spell to wipe the mind entirely. The greatest way to break a spell of suppression is finding a trigger. An object of emotional power over the suppressed memories." Stella pondered her words for a moment, "At least, I have heard that it has worked on some souls suffering amnesia."
"The problem is finding something like that when you don't know who you are in the first place," Káel replied, staring at the bare walls of the room as he ticked through a list of ideas. "When I get out of here, let's look at picture books."
"Picture books?"
"Yeah. All the picture books in the library." Káel shot Stella a grin. "Who knows, maybe you'll see something that brings your memories back."
"Thank you for the offer Káel Aeric. There is no need to assist me out of pity."
Káel shrugged, tipping back his chair to prop his feet on the table as he stared at the ceiling. "I probably won't be going anywhere if this whole thing goes sideways. Cursimian seems to be itching to screw over Phantom."
A sharp pain struck Káel's eye with a spitting flash, Cursimian's mastery of static electricity striking a spot that Káel wouldn't have even considered an option. "Ow!" He toppled back, the tipped chair landing him square on his back as he clutched his face. "That was my eye!"
Stella fluttered over to Cursimian, resting beside Káel's head as he worked up the willpower to recover. "Cursimian wishes to argue his actions."
Káel tried to blink the pain away, pinching his eyelid with gritted teeth as it teared up. "Christ! You're worse than my uncle's cat!"
"He sensed foul magic in the air."
"He's a lumer Cursimian," Káel snarled, ramming the arm Cursimian had a hold on into the ground to get back up. "He can't use magic. If you're going to lie to my face, at least make it believable!"
"He thought it was the boy, but it grew distant." Stella followed Káel's ear as he rose, "He claims it may have struck if we were alone."
Káel grimaced, eyeing the black bracer, and then the locked door that suddenly didn't have enough enchantments on it. "Define 'it'"
"He says he does not know, he would have to find it again."
"Nope. We aren't doing that," Káel replied, tugging the door to make sure he had been locked in. He sighed with relief at how stuck he was. If he couldn't get out, unwelcomed guests couldn't get in.
He eyed the door handle again, remembering the lock was on the outside.
"Oh, great."
He couldn't get out, but pretty much anyone could get in.
"You're joking, there wasn't anyone else in the hallway." He looked at the black bracer, as if some miniscule shift in the metal shards could read the blade's emotions. "Right Cursimian?"
"He says he is not," Stella replied, monotonous but still filling the room with an ominous chill. "Cursimian believes that you are being hunted Káel Aeric."
—————
The school always had an odd story floating about every morning, but when Vera made it to the silver house lobby, Truvius was in her face without a second to lose about the newest revelation.
Káel hadn't come to bed last night.
Káel was supposed to be at a council meeting last night.
Káel had...
Tried to strangle a student in the halls?
Vera scoffed every time those words played through her head. His time at Alta Staar was filled with spellwork and touring the many attractions Fairez Stella had to offer. Elisious hadn't trained nearly enough strength into him to make that possible.
Vera shot a glare at a group of girls when she heard Káel's name flutter from their lips. She didn't believe the rumour for a second, but what she thought didn't matter at the moment. She didn't have long to stop the spread. She tapped Truvius to grab his attention as they wandered through the lobby. "He obviously didn't do that. We need to fix this."
Truvius stopped, eyebrows popped as he let his arms hang in a half shrug. "Fix this? How? We weren't there, we can't vouch for him."
"It's going to take more than just us to vouch for him," Vera replied, nudging her chin at the chattering students in the lobby. "Káel might be a little too dim to do his research, but I know why you're in this school. The Garaean Empire didn't go out of its way to rescue anyone and pay for their classes," Vera said, smiling at Truvius' irritation that only proved her theory. "Go on and do what you do best."
She could see the words had stung. An unexpected reaction. His gift had given him what he wanted on the Mizer Islands, but he likely hadn't thought of the consequences then. Vera on the other hand, had botched an interrogation enough times to know practice made perfect. His gift was best put to use to help his friends instead of rotting on an couple islands.
"What's with the face? We don't have six cycles to dawdle."
Truvius sighed, checking around the lobby to try and pick through the conversations of their peers. "There's not enough people, and not all of them like Káel." He stopped on the same group of girls Vera had noticed first. "I've got something that will work better."
Vera watched him stroll up to the group, sliding right into the conversation with a couple jokes and nods. She couldn't hear their words, until Truvius found his opportunity, his words just loud enough to reach across the room. "I heard they stuffed Puff in a cage so tight he can't even lie down."
Vera smiled as a few heads turned.
The chatter intensified.
Truvius moved to another group of students, working his way in again. "Really? I heard the other guy attacked first cause his team lost to our House."
She exchanged a smile with Truvius before he made his way to a new target. The kind of rumour could spread like wildfire, and she trusted that Truvius could control the blaze to burn down the Council's case. Her job was cutting their water supply so they couldn't kill the embers while they were weak.
She slipped out of the Silver House, skimming the swarms of students for one in particular. The Council's bucket of water. But her vision was quickly blocked by wide blue eyes and a cutting scream of a voice, Sora stopping her in her tracks by holding her shoulders.
"Vera! Did you hear about Káel?!"
She sighed, her eyes involuntarily rolling. Lao forbid she got a moment of peace from Káel's friend.
"The Council locked him in a room! Apparently he almost killed someone!" Sora's mouth twisted into a frown, her voice lowering to a whisper. "It was that two-faced skat-licker that hit him with a paddle-blade. Eye for an eye, I think he got him fair and square!"
Vera patted her shoulder, pulling her hands off to pass her with a cold smile. "Then go tell everyone that."
"I've got a better idea," Sora retorted, her voice only growing louder with every step Vera took to leave. "We don't have to be friends, but you're the only person that might willingly help me."
Vera stopped, sighing through her teeth before slapping a fake smile back on her face to greet Sora with. She didn't have time to play pranks on Káel or volunteer to run letters to the village. Enduring Sora's company was the last thing on her list today. "Don't worry, I have a plan. But you're a happy, almost sickeningly energetic person, which is why you're not going to like how I fix this."
Quite unexpectedly, Sora didn't flinch at the insult, puffing her chest as she gripped her hips with a smirk. "And you're a blunt, and sort of unnecessarily aggressive person. Which is why I have this."
Vera looked at the tiny vial she was holding up, a deep violet liquid sloshing in the glass capsule.
Her body rose with intrigue when she got close enough to read the label.
A liquid curse.
"How-"
"There's got to be something more to that skat heap, and I want to see what he's hiding," Sora said, something sinister flickering in her eyes as she pocketed the vial. "And if I don't like what he has to say, I'll just write a better story for the Council."
Vera sized Sora up, weighing out their chances of success as a team. Although she didn't fancy conversing with her to forge a friendship, an accomplice was a different story. Two could double their chances of success. Especially with an illegal curse in the mix.
She smiled, waving Sora to walk by her side. "Lets hear this plan then."
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Fun and Useless Fact #22:
You can toast 100,000 slices of bread with a bolt of lightning
~ Food for thought