18th of Inandyl - 3rd Velron - Lunch

  Cira and I have lunch together with some of our other friends in the Great Hall before it is completely broken down for the Enchanted Masquerade. In addition to Cira and myself, Munsa, Vesa, Fara, Syffy, and Ilytha have joined us at one of the remaining open tables.

  It is the last opportunity for a large meal so the spread that we have all ordered from the kitchens is quite the motley assortment of finger foods, vegetables, fruits, desserts, sweets, pastries, sandwiches, and Vesa even got us a small cauldron of stew. How she managed to get the cooks to let her leave the kitchens with it is a mystery I can’t help but inquire about.

  “It was simple, really.” Vesa starts as we all dig in. She pauses briefly, swallowing a mouthful of stew. “I told them I would bring it back clean.”

  “How will you do that?” Cira asks, taking a bite of sweet bread that smells wonderfully of lavender.

  “Well, magic, of course!” She laughs with the rest of us. “You think I can really scrub this thing?” She knocks on the cast iron with a knuckle which makes a dull thud, full as it is with a delicious beef and root stew.

  “Have you gotten your mask from the Magistrate yet, Vesa?” I ask, picking off a lady finger from the bunch of them.

  “Of course! I would think that everyone has theirs by now.” A devilish look crosses her face making her infernai features pop alarmingly. “Are you excited for the big event, Serea? This is probably your first real social event, right?”

  Something about her expression and the slow cadence to her voice makes me wary. “It is and I am excited for it. The mask choice is a bit stra—” I cannot finish as all six of the other girls at the table shush me in protest, not wanting to hear anymore. I even had small pretzels flung in my direction by Syffy.

  “Don’t ruin the magic, Crowfoot!” Ilytha chides me, her fawn ears twitching in distress. While I know it’s not meant to actually hurt me, her tone is emphatic which is a strange mixture coming from such a soft spoken creature.

  “Ok, ok.” I start, giving over to the popular opinion. “I don’t really see what the big deal is though. I mean how will I find any of you at all if we are in disguise?”

  Cira groans. “Uhg, this again. Serea, I told you that is the whole point; to not know!”

  “Yes, but why?” I debate childishly.

  “Aren’t you a Vodalysa?” Vesa cuts in. “Embrace the unknown! This event is notorious for its magic to weave together fated threads without the bond of class or status getting in the way.”

  “Yes, Vesa!” Cira exclaims. “Thank you! This event is known to bring people together under the most mysterious circumstances.” There is a glow in Cira’s eyes that I have never really seen before and I am suddenly aware that there is a deeper meaning to this which I do not understand.

  “Oooh!” Munsa chimes in, understanding blossoming on her face as if talking about a new piece of juicy gossip and gives Cira a smoldering look. “Someone wants the enchantment for tonight to be a love spell!” She elongates the word “love” and Cira blushes a bright, tomato red. The other girls continue to tease and cajole Cira, but I suddenly feel very out of place in this conversation.

  “Really? That kind of thing happens at these events?” I ask timidly, I think of my desk mates, Zhenya and Mazron, and how mortifying it was to endure their affections in a place where that was generally not allowed. Were my friends implying that this was a normal behavior at a ball? Sleeping gods, what would the two of them do when it was completely allowed?!

  “Of course!” Vesa states in a matter of fact tone and my heart sinks, eyes wide as I try to get the lewd thoughts of my previous assumptions out of my head. “It happens all the time! That is why these events are so popular. So maybe,” she looks at Cira with her usual optimistic and caring smile, “just maybe, it can happen to you.” Cira’s blush calms down to a light pink with this encouragement.

  “Who knows!” Vesa’s voice is louder than necessary, but continues in a more muted one. “It could even happen to our dearest mouse, Serea.” The girls start to laugh, but this time I cut them off.

  “That’s not funny.” I remark flatly as I find anyone using that nickname other than Calas feels wrong to me; title or not. It’s not that I don’t like Vesa, I think she is actually quite kind when you get passed her intimidating exterior. Come to think of it, this seems true with Calas, too. Maybe this is a trend with the people of Casian, in Horora, where they are from?

  The conversation moves on without me as I ponder what life might be like in a place like that. From what Vesa has told me, Horora is a port city on the Thieves’ Coast, but is surrounded by mountains on one side and a vast desert on the other. I knew this already having lived so close to Transmere all my life on the other side of the straight called the Thieve’s Coast. As she said it is known for being a major hub of trade, despite the odd, isolated locale, which after thinking about it, would make it a prime location for more nefarious deeds.

  Thinking of nefarious deeds, my mind wanders to all the horrible things I have heard about the Syndicate, even from Vesa’s own mouth. How their family, the Duskwoods, extort excessive docking and unloading fees to certain merchant vessels for their “protection” while in port. I have heard enough sailors complain to Mister Dreadflower about how those protections only go as far as the coin in your pocket as many of them were battered and bruised for supposedly not paying for these services. According to Vesa, too, this was normal and somewhat worse for residents. Were they all this way? Brutal, conniving thugs?

  The thought of Calas’ smile, his genuine laugh come to mind and I just can’t see him as this Prince of Thugs that Vesa had called him. I definitely believed her when she told me nearly a month ago with his wild intense eyes and that primal mischievous smile. He can’t fool me that easily now. I guess I can see Fara’s point now, that we are all just scribes here and while he has a year of tenure on me here and is Blackclaw’s student staffer, he’s learning here too, right?

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  I glance up as Fara nudges me from my wayward thoughts and I blink with a sudden disorientation. “Huh?”

  Fara laughs cattily, “Nyaha! See? She wasn’t paying attention!” She cajoles with the other girls.

  I shake off my daydreams, “No, sorry. What were we talking about?”

  “Exams.” Syffy presses, “How were your exams?”

  “Oh!” I smile pleasantly at the topic. “They went better than anyone thought, even me!”

  Fara nudges me again, this time for a different reason than getting my attention. “Yeah, I heard you made some real waves in your combat exam.” She teases in an equally pleasant way.

  “You heard about that?” I ask in shock and I see Cira’s face mirror my reaction.

  “Mhmm.” Fara hums in an affirming manor, black tail twitching in delight.

  “Who told you?” Cira cuts in, a mixture of awe and disbelief in her voice.

  A devilish, sharp-toothed grin splits her black furred, feline face before she looks away in false nonchalance, picking at a piece of fruit on her plate. “Oooh, you know, I hear things here and there and everywhere…” She lets her voice trail off as her gaze shifts back to me in a sly way. “This one I might have heard from a mutual friend of ours, who just so happened to be bragging about the mess they had to clean up after your final…”

  My eyes go wide at her grin. I glance to Vesa who is leaning over the table, propped up on her elbow with a similar smug smile. Then to Cira, who face has turned dark and menacing, a stark difference from the Drakonys pair. It is confirmed for me, then, that Fara really is talking about Calas.

  “Did you say, ‘bragging’?” I ask still confused.

  Fara nods quickly. “Oh, yes. Would not shut up about how surprised they were last night in the Faculty Lounge. How they were never so happy to clean up someone else’s mess. They called you ‘such a clever mouse’.”

  Her words don’t quite register with me and I have a strange sense of detachment wash over me like my tidal wave did to that golem. Was this even real? Calas. Calas Duskwood. Was bragging about my tidal wave to Fara and the staffer scribes? I am rendered speechless.

  “Well, that’s a shock.” Cira cuts in haughtily as she doesn’t have my tongue-tied problem. “It’s a wonder the guy even knows other people actually exist!” She scoffs derisively, “He is such an ass most of the time that this one instance of kindness is just a fluke. Right, Serea?”

  My mouth gapes, searching for words, any words that will placate Cira, but when I think of agreeing with her, I find that I simply can’t. I look down at my plate of food for a few heartbeats more than it should have taken for me to respond. All I can muster is, “Sometimes, yeah…”

  Munsa take Vesa by the arm and whispers loudly, “Who are we talking about?” both Syffy and Ilytha lean in to hear the answer, breath held.

  Vesa mutters under her breath so as not to alert the entire Hall, “Her combat partner.”

  Munsa’s eyes go wide and exclaims, “That Duskwood guy?!”

  I wince, scrunching my nose as if reacting to a bad smell. I would have been embarrassed by all the looks we receive at Munsa’s outburst if not for Cira staring daggers into my soul.

  “Just sometimes, Serea?” Cira’s voice is quiet and measured, but it is taught; a trap set to snap.

  I shrug sheepishly, forming a half wince, half smile on my face, but words, all words, have left me.

  “Are you kidding me?!” Cira’s voice rings out for all the common room to hear and I wince again, gesturing for her to be quiet. “No, I will not be quiet! That boy infuriates me! He won’t even call you by your name and picks on you constantly! What possible reason is there to defend him?”

  I take a breath as if to say something, but hesitate at the last moment. How could I explain it to her when I can’t even explain it to myself? She wouldn’t understand or care that I actually like practicing with him now. That he doesn’t treat me like that when we are together, just us. That I don’t mind when he calls me mouse, but only him apparently.

  I take another breath and find what I want to say, “He’s not actually as bad as everyone makes him out to be.”

  Cira scoffs at me once more, coming down from her tirade. Before continuing in a slightly calmer tone, she takes a big bite out of a sandwich. “I am so glad that class is done and over with so we don’t have to be subjected to him any longer!”

  I frown, brows furrowing at this sudden realization. The term is over and he is no longer my dueling partner. A pang of some misplaced emotion, something akin to disappointment, echoes hollowly inside me. I promised him that I would use tidal wave in my combat exam and I did it, much to the chagrin of Professor Blackclaw. But he promised me to tell me about Kishi if I did. How will he keep it without being able to see each other in class every week?

  Something of my musing must have been written on my face as I notice Cira staring bitterly at me again, cheeks flushed with anger.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  Vesa’s mischievous voice interrupts again. “Oh. Divine gods.” A lazy, devilish grin slowly creeps onto her face before continuing. “Serea,” she starts again with an elated giggle, “you like him!”

  Panic fills my heart at her words. “That’s not true! I mean,” My eyes shift to Cira, who is ready to pounce on me. I edge away from her displeasure, trying to think of what to say that will make her not want to throttle me in my sleep tonight. “I don’t hate him, if that is what you mean.” That sounds good, right?

  Vesa continues, though, in a wry, almost sarcastic tone. “Oh, I’ll bet you don’t hate him.” She gives me a wink, like we have a secret about it now. “To think, all this time, our sweet little mouse likes the dangerous ones.”

  Cira stands suddenly and my breath catches as I respond to her instead of Vesa. “It’s not true, Cira.” My voice is desperate and pleading.

  She sighs after a long, tense moment, her words are a whisper. “I’m going to get ready. I hope everyone has a marvelous time.” Her voice is soft, but lacks kindness and I watch her go with a weight in my heart and a lump in my throat.

  Munsa, Syffy, and Ilytha leave with Cira and their dishes. I stay at the table in despair with Vesa and Fara for a while, my face in my hands. As I wonder how to smooth things over with Cira, Fara puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t stew on it too much, Serea. She’ll get over it.” Her voice is soft and accompanied by a calming purr.

  “Why was she so angry? I don’t like him… not like that anyway.” I mutter still carrying an unstable array of emotions. It is so unstable that I can’t bring myself to even explain what I mean by “that”. A flash of memory surges through me of my desk-mates in Magic Studies, but instead of Zhenya in Mazron’s lap, it is altered to show me in Calas’.

  I rub at my eyes, wanting to scream as I violently throw the wayward thought away. “Uhhhg!” Is all that escapes me.

  “I’m not too sure,” Vesa starts uneasily, “I suppose she really feels strongly about hating him.” I find the both of them around me with supportive smiles when I rest my hands on my cheeks. Unsurprisingly, they are red hot.

  “I am sorry, though, for what it’s worth.” Vesa continues, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. “About Cira, that is. I didn’t know she would react so poorly to the fact that you—“ she makes the slightest pause, but it is noticeable enough that I glance at her askance. “—You don’t hate him, too.”

  I nod and start to cleanup the rest of what the others did not, except for the cauldron, that is all for Vesa to handle after all! We make several trips back and forth to the dish area, and when we are done and ready to part ways before the main event, Fara takes me aside to chat with me quietly.

  “I understand how Cira feels about him, but I know that’s not how you feel about him. Don’t feel like you are the only one who knows that Calas has a human side. Come to me anytime you want to talk about it.”

  I nod in understanding and thanks for the support to her. I wave to Vesa in goodbye and head to my room to get ready. Hopefully, Cira will be there so we can clear the air about this whole mess before the party.