Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

Emma

Thalmin was quick to move first, shooting out his arm to brace the narrow gap in the door.

A loud THUD rang out as his palm slammed hard against the doorframe. His features shifted to match his aggressive posture as a death glare settled over them, aimed directly at the shadowy apprentice’s two noncorporeal eyes.

Meanwhile, I immediately got to my feet, standing directly in the way of Thacea just in case things went south.

Though despite the rapid motions and Thalmin’s intimidating stance, the apprentice seemed mostly unfazed, aided in no small part by the perpetually black void that forever obscured the form and face hiding behind that cloak.

We stood there wordlessly for a few seconds longer, entering an impromptu standoff that threatened to completely upend the month of uneventful happenings.

None of us spoke, not even the apprentice, as I took his lack of a response as proof enough that we’d managed to stun him.

Though this deadlock was eventually broken by the last person I expected.

“Is this a conditional summons, Apprentice Ostoy?” Thacea began with that signature polite, lofty tone of voice, carrying with it as much authority as it did a sense of complete detachment, lacking fear or intimidation.

She managed to hold her own while elegantly rising to her feet, dusting off her cloak, and carrying herself with an effortless confidence.

“Indeed it is, Princess Dilani.” The elf began with a clipped response. “As much as I wish itnotto be…” He spoke under a breath yet made it audible to everyone present all the same.

But before he could get another word out, Thacea chimed in first.

“A night in the tower, I imagine?” She questioned with a clear, unflinching cadence even in spite of announcing what was in effect her own detainment.

“Yes…” Ostoy responded with a growing annoyance, his two glowing eyes narrowing into slits. “A mere inconvenience compared to what could have been.”

Yet this blatant inference of a threat didn’t even manage to dent Thacea’s facade, let alone make it past it.

Instead, she merely blinked once before taking another step forward.

“Then inform the healers and attendants that I will make my way to their care post-haste.” She commanded, flipping the narrative around and then doubling down before Ostoy could even get another word in. “And on that note, seeing as you are acting as a messenger in this whole affair, I would like to invoke a point of personal privilege as the principal concerned.”

“Yes, Princess Dilani?” He responded through an audible grumble and a pair of luminant eyes that had practically narrowed from slits into creases of light. The frustration, the indignancy, and the sound of a man who knew he was being toyed with drenched each and every one of those clipped words, the elf unable to escape the social labyrinth he’d inexplicably been put into.

“Do send my sincerest regards and gratitude to Professor Chiska, for showing both considerable care and mercy to my affliction and my station, in that order.” Thacea sniped back, rubbing salt into a wound that’d just barely been opened.

And it was the apprentice’s reactions, his glowing eyes now bubbling in growing vitriol, that truly hammered home the dynamics at play, especially as he visibly winced upon the mention of Chiska.

Ostoy didn’t flinch in light of Thalmin’s display of force, nor did he falter at my force of presence.

He instead bent to the whims of Thacea’s quick twisting of the dynamics. Through forcible reminders and the leveraging of social roles, all to remind the man that he too was just another pawn in a grander game.

The princess had, in no uncertain terms, managed to ensnare the dragon’s maw before it could breathe fire, molding the social game like putty in her talons.

But it was clear he wasn’t about to take a snub without a fight.

“Perhaps you would like to deliver this message to her in perso—” He tried to counter but was immediately shut down by Thacea.

“Perhaps you should try playing the role you were dealt, Apprentice Ostoy.” She interjected bluntly, plainly, but never with malice. Just… an airy sense of lofty authority that came so naturally to her.

But that wasn’t the end of it. She was quick to double down, taking proactive action before the apprentice could manage out another word.

“I, for one, intend to do so without fail.” She announced, moving forward past Thalmin and settling mere inches in front of the apprentice’s hooded face.

A second soon followed.

Then another.

Until finally…

“As you wish, Princess Dilani.” The elf acquiesced, even bowing in the process.

No more words were exchanged.

In fact, the man quickly vanished to the tune of a WAID and mana radiation warning, indicating he’d teleported out of there.

The moment felt like a victory.

It felt like a weight should’ve been lifted off of our collective shoulders.

But it didn’t.

Because despite winning the battle, the war was still very much on.

And it was a war I intended to be a part of.

“Thacea?” I called out, garnering a cock of Thacea’s head. “If it’s alright, I’d like to join you.” I made my stance clear. “This isn’t just your fight anymore.” I quickly added. “I’m going to be there with you all the way, and I sure as hell won’t let you face these assholes alone.”

Something shifted, albeit slightly, behind those otherwise cold and aloof eyes.

Her gaze that had quickly shifted back into ‘princess mode’ temporarily accommodated my presence and requests with a sharpness that straddled both worlds.

“I… do not wish to burden you with the follies of my own—”

“You’re not a burden.” I interrupted, causing the princess to blink twice in rapid succession — probably the most animated response I’d be getting from her in these dire circumstances. “You never were a burden. If you looked up the thesaurus for the antonym of the word burden, your face would be the first thing that pops up.”

…

Thacea blinked hollowly at that. So did Thalmin.

“Okay, sorry, bad analogy to make. It didn’t even land as well as I’d hoped for in my own native tongue, so let’s rewind a bit.” I spoke quickly, twirling my fingers around as if to emphasize the ‘rewind’ statement. “What I mean to say is this. Thacea, you embody the opposite of the word burden. You carry yourself, your weight, and the weight the world carelessly places upon you. Without fail, without faltering, and never once with complaint. That’s… unfair. That’s you literally picking up the world’s burden, not your own. So please…” I moved forward, reaching for her hands. “Let me help you lift some of that weight off of your shoulders. Allow me to at least carry some of that burden for you.”

Thacea didn’t respond. But her features, and that break in her princessly facade, told me all that I needed to know.

“But this isn’t your fight, Emma.” She countered.

“Sure it is.” I offered with every ounce of sincerity I had. “We’re a team, Thacea. We’re allies, friends, and partners. And the last thing a partner does in the face of adversity is to allow their other half to endure it alone.”

Thacea paused once again, her eyes deep in thought. Though she wouldn’t allow the dead air to settle for long. “I… suppose, if you insist, Emma.” Was all Thacea could manage. Yet those words, as sparing as they were, bore an undeniable tone of relief.

Throughout it all, however, a certain third party had kept an awkward watch, his head darting back and forth between our exchanges until he finally couldn’t take it.

“Ahem.” Thalmin interjected. “I suppose I’ll volunteer as sentry for tonight. I’ll hold down the fort, and debrief Ilunor on his… escapades.” He smiled slyly, though that sentiment was clearly directed at us rather than the emergent threat of Ilunor’s smarmy return.

“I appreciate that, Thalmin. Thank you.” I gave the lupinor a brief bow. A gesture that the prince received knowingly and with a warm smile.

“Take care, you two. And don’t get into too much trouble. There’s already far too many tales of princesses and their knights absconding duty for wild misadventures. I expect you two to not add to that list, aye?” The prince announced before just as quickly closing the door behind us as we marched forwards towards the…

“So… I assume we’re headed to the medical wing, right?” I questioned.

“Correct, Emma.” Thacea acknowledged, her eyes returning to that polite, aloof glint, if only because of the situation we found ourselves embroiled in.

“Alright.” I nodded, my mind running through all the euphemisms I had in my repository if only to soften the next few—

“You need not expend the unnecessary mental effort by delving into the futile game of semantics and euphemisms, Emma. We both know you are cut out for neither.”

“Ah.” I responded abruptly. “How’d you—”

“You’re distressingly easy to read when you aren’t being a complete enigma. Which… come to think of it, is an enigma in and of itself.” She mentioned off-handedly with the barest hint of a smile beneath that otherwise impermeable facade. “It is… amusing to see, refreshing in a sense. But in any case, let’s just… ‘cut to the chase,’ as you would so put it.”

I nodded slowly, acknowledging Thacea’s complete read on my intentions as I too acquiesced to her directives.

“I just wanted to know what we’re looking at when we arrive at the medical wing.” I began with not so much severity, but with worry. “Is it going to be invasive? Are they going to lock you up? For how long? And if so, do you want to play princess and knight and just ditch this whole joint?” I offered that latter question with a chuckle, more as an attempt to bring some levity to the situation than as a serious offer.

However, instead of the immediate response I’d expected, Thacea seemed to take a moment to consider my words, as if deciding between taking the joking bait or diving straight into the thick of it.

“Were it so easy, Emma…” Thacea acknowledged with a disarming sigh, shaking her head slowly from side to side as she did so. “More to the point, you need not concern yourself with the night’s song and dance. For it is, as much as it may seem not to be, a complete social waltz.”

“So… just a medical check-up then? An easy in and out?” I offered with a degree of hope.

A hope that Thacea could only scoff darkly at.

“Were it so easy…” She repeated herself before taking yet another deep breath. “I expect nothing less than to be met with an isolation ward to my name, accompanied by a passive form of monitoring, with nothing to gain for both healer and peerage. Yet in its material worthlessness to all parties involved, it accomplishes something intangibly worthwhile. Perhaps more significant than any objective fact — the appeasement of the social order and the equilibrium of expectant decorum.” Thacea took in a breath before continuing, if only to assuage my concerns. “Mind you, if the incident had been even a sliver more… egregious, or if I had lacked the good graces of a certain faculty member, my prospects would have assuredly been far, far more dire. Thankfully, both the reality of the situation and the actors at play have aligned to bring into fruition a mitigation of a crisis into what at worst could be described as a mild inconvenience.”

I winced at that, letting out a huff of indignant frustration loud enough to cause the princess to shift her gaze entirely.

“I wouldn’t call being ordered to the medical wing for what is essentially a social punishment in all but name — a result of your heroism, mind you — to be in any way a ‘mild’ inconvenience.” I blurted out, my frustrations growing stronger with each passing word.

And yet… I couldn’t disagree, nor could I bring myself to retread similar ground, recalling one too many conversations we’d had on similar topics in confidence.

Because compared to what she’d experienced back home, and what worst-case scenarios lay ahead in the Academy, this… was probably the closest to a slap on the wrist she could’ve gotten away with.

It was the equivalent of detention.

…

But that didn’t make this whole situation any better.

“Just because this is the best-case scenario doesn’t make this whole… charade any less messed up.” I capped off my frustrations with an indignant huff, clenching my fists tight in the process. “I just wish things were different… I just wish that you didn’t have to live your life on a knife’s edge.”

Thacea… smiled at that.

Not at the words of hope, but at the latter sentiment.

“Oh, Emma… this… this most certainly is the furthest away from a knife’s edge I have ever been in a long, long while.” She chuckled darkly in earnest — a sign, as strange as it might have been, of genuine connection and camaraderie. “I admit, this entire… situation was a result of my own reckless abandon, a sign of my complacency in light of Academy life. You have to understand that this past month of complete… ‘normalcy,’ as you’ve often referred to it, has been nothing short of a period of prolonged respite for my social sensibilities. Or at least, as close to the concept of a vacation as I can imagine. The scrutiny we face has been negligible, the social demands barely registering as an afterthought, and with the weight of both eyes and ledgers nominally off of our backs, I’ve reached a level of ease unlike anything I’ve felt since childhood.” She continued in stride, launching into a monologue I didn’t dare interrupt.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“Today was a dark reminder of how… undisciplined this environment has made me.” She continued after a momentary pause of contemplation. “But as there is no dawn without the preceding dark, and no sunset without the preceding light, this… incident has suddenly put into perspective how truly remarkable the unremarkable can be. I arrived at the Academy expecting that I would be spending every waking moment balancing upon a blade’s edge, one as sharp as the ones I faced back home. Indeed, that was very much the case for our first few weeks. But as of late, I have discovered that existing beyond the reach of the royal court has dulled that edge more than I’d ever imagined was possible.”

I should have felt at odds with Thacea’s admissions.

Indeed, I felt the growing aches of sympathy pulsing within my chest.

Which was more than likely why I allowed my wistful hopes of a fantastical resolution to sprout up unfiltered.

“I wish I could be the sheath to completely dull out the sharpness of your world.” I blurted out.

This caused Thacea to completely and abruptly halt mid-stride.

She turned to me with a cocked head and a face that no longer read as serious, aloof, or even dour.

Instead I was met with the look of a befuddled avinor and an expression that rapidly transcended into unrepentant amusement.

“I’m… sorry?” She attempted to speak in between a developing chuckle, as she committed to what I’d learned was the avian equivalent of biting your lip down to stifle a laugh.

I felt all that rage, all that frustration, and every bit of that animosity towards a world so cruel and unfair… completely shifting into second-hand embarrassment. My face flushed a deep beet red in the process.

“Ok, yeah, no, that sounds really dumb in retrospect.” I managed out under a self-deprecating chuckle, unable to restrain the dumb smile from forming on my face, resulting in those words being colored by an unserious cadence.

“I can hear you smiling.” Thacea added abruptly, causing that dumb grin and the redness on my cheeks to intensify in short order.

“That obvious, huh?” I attempted to ‘counter.’

“Quite.” The princess nodded, finally starting to control her own outburst as well but allowing the barest hint of a chuckle to seep through. “Sheath to dull out the sharpness of my world… really now, Emma?” She teased with a knowing glance.

“Hey, you know what they say, the best poetry is written from the heart.” I shot back, now reaching an arm to nervously rub the crook of my neck.

“Do they, now?” Thacea responded, crossing her arms in the process. “We phrase it a bit differently in Aetheron. ‘Only a sleeping fool would allow their heart to speak in their stead.’”

“Are you saying I’m a fool, Thacea?” I threw the ball back in her court with a mischievous grin.

“Perhaps, but you act more like a jester than a fool.” She teased. “You need not worry yourself with such monickers. For you have by your own actions — as evidenced by this interaction — become something of a… sheath to my world.” The princess continued, raising a hand as she did so. “Though… if I may… perhaps shield would be a more appropriate descriptor. A sheath stays the blade, not dull it. Even so, I find such metaphors to be quite reaching.” She paused, shrugging in the process. “But I digress… You really do have a gift for de-escalating even the most sobering of moods, Emma. For that, I am very much grateful.”

“A knight and a fool, a two-in-one package. That’s definitely a lot to be grateful for, at least in my book!” I acknowledged sheepishly as we now began to pick up the pace again, the privacy screen following us every step of the way. “So… not to bring back the negative vibes of the whole knife’s edge thing, but… that really answers one of the questions I’d been wanting to bring up.” I continued, garnering a cock of Thacea’s head. “I was curious why you didn’t seem interested in joining any of the clubs, whereas Ilunor, Thalmin, Etholin, and everyone else seemed to really be into it. If you’ll allow me this armchair psychologist moment, I assume it’s because you couldn’t be bothered dealing with more social dynamics than absolutely necessary, right?”

“Is it my turn to be read like an open book?” Thacea shot back with a polite yet undeniably sly smile.

“Only if you chose to unfurl the pages, your majesty.” I responded with a faux curtsy in the middle of my stride. Though it was clear that the use of those honorifics no longer had the same effect they once had, as Thacea simply scoffed at the addressment.

“Please, you know such modesties are above you, Emma.” The princess scoffed back in a dry, teasing chuckle before returning to the original point. “In any case, you are indeed correct in your assessments, Emma. I intend to make the most of my time here, which means I intend on curtailing any unnecessary social obligations. Moreover, there exists another, more pertinent reason why I chose to forego this optional ‘side quest,’ as it were.”

It was my turn to cock my head this time around as I urged Thacea to continue. “Go on?”

“Taking upon such responsibilities is simply not conducive, nor is it in any particular way productive to my purpose at the Academy.” She stated plainly.

“Oh.” Came my first response as I was quick to cradle the ‘chin’ of my helmet between my fingers. “Wait, that brings up a good point. Why exactly are you here, Thacea? Or, I guess the question should be why did your parents decide to send you here?”

The princess smiled darkly in response to that, letting out a single breath in the process. “Perhaps in private, Emma. It is… something of a long story. Suffice it to say, I find my most recent outburst to be… counterproductive. Especially against the malicious aims of the parties that would wish to see me fail beneath the Nexus’ tapestry.”

I narrowed my eyes at that, slowing my gait for a moment before nodding all the same. “Alright.” I acknowledged. “While I would like to hear more, just tell me whenever you’re ready, Thacea. There’s no pressure on that front from my end.” I offered reassuringly just as another thought popped into my head courtesy of the specific word choice Thacea had elected to use. “Actually, there’s another thing I wanted to quickly address.”

“Yes, Emma?”

“The tapestry. You basically agreed with Lovguard’s assessments back in Astromancy club when it came to that topic. About how your realm possesses the same sort of ‘blanket’ covering your world. Isn’t that entirely incongruent with what you told me earlier during our private sight-seer trip?”

“Yes.” Thacea nodded, though the expression that formed on her face wasn’t at all what I expected, as she seemed more confused at my question than anything. “I… had assumed you understood my placid affirmations to be an element of social lubricant?”

I blinked before simply shaking my head in response. “Social lub—” I paused, realizing exactly what she meant. “Oh. So you were just going with the motions to not rock the boat?”

“Correct.” The princess nodded yet again. “There was nothing to be gained by engaging in earnest conversations at that junction. It is sometimes more conducive to simply acknowledge the prevailing sentiments than point out discrepancies without a clear reason to do so.”

“Right.” I nodded in acknowledgement. “That… that’s actually quite smart of you to do.” I reasoned.

In the midst of all the conversations and impromptu debriefs following the club fair, we eventually found ourselves face to face with the large and cavernous entrances of the medical wing.

I half expected some of Ostoy’s lackeys to intercept us.

Another part of me anticipated the arrival of some stereotypical orderlies, ready to whisk Thacea away.

However, nothing like that manifested.

Instead, a familiar water elemental, flanked by several ‘shorter’ water elementals, stood ready to greet Thacea in front of the main reception desk.

I held my breath, making sure to stick right by Thacea’s side as the elemental in question bowed curtly towards the princess.

“Princess Thacea Dilani.” He began politely. “I assume you are willing to submit to proper procedure?”

“So long as the procedures remain adherent and proportional to the wishes and endorsements of the faculty witness.” She countered with a clipped yet confident breath.

“Professor Chiska has indeed taken it upon herself to emphasize your astounding capacity for self-control in light of these exceedingly strenuous and unprecedented circumstances. Following which, and seeing as there exists no evidence of harm reported or examined, congruent or pathognomonic with acute taint exposure, we will be taking the minimum appropriate precautionary measures as advised by the attending faculty member. Princess Dilani, with your permission, we would like to start the overnight observation period post-haste.” The water elemental extended his arm, a single outstretched palm gesturing towards the wards. “If you would please kindly follow me.”

“I assume this observation period will lapse by tomorrow’s breakfast?” Thacea questioned with an airy, almost aloof tone of voice.

This prompted the elemental in question to bow slightly in response. “Yes, your highness.”

The princess merely nodded, leading the charge before things abruptly shifted.

“Cadet Emma Booker, while my appreciation of your medical acumen still stands, I am afraid I cannot allow you to proceed further than this point.” The elemental spoke firmly, blocking my way forward.

I narrowed my gaze just as Thacea shot me a glance that urged me to be careful.

“I’m guessing I can’t join her in isolation?” I questioned the healer.

“No, Cadet Emma Booker. I am afraid that is against protoco—”

“Then let’s meet halfway. Just let me stay in front of her room.” I argued, sidestepping the man’s words as he abruptly paused to think.

“I… suppose that is within acceptable bounds. So long as you do not return to the dorms or gallivant around the wards, I will accept your presence as the princess’ sentinel.” The elemental… wobbled — that was the best way I could describe it — prompting the rest of his attendants to step aside, granting me entry into the wards trailing right behind Thacea.

It was around this same time that I was quick to turn to the EVI…

“EVI, set INFILDRONE 4 to active monitoring. Subject: Thacea Dilani. Enable active camo, and set priority to report updates on any movement or activity from within her room that exceeds normal limits.”

[ACKNOWLEDGED. DEPLOYING INFIL-DRONE04.]

Sure enough, after all eyes were fixated on Thacea and the opening of one of the seemingly endless number of repeating doors within the halls, an infildrone was quick to trail high and up above the princess.

I managed to get a good look at the room before Thacea entered as well, and it was… sparse, at least by Nexian standards. If anything, it looked even more barren than Rila’s room, complete with padded floors, walls, and ceilings.

It looked unnerving.

But maybe it was just the implications of such an anachronistic design, coupled with how much scrutiny Thacea faced, that really caused me to be on edge here.

Whatever the case was, the exchanges between Thacea and the healer were brief.

Nothing would happen throughout the night.

Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to go.

All Thacea had to do was simply remain isolated in the room until breakfast time. At which point, she’d be free to go.

Everything was deceptively calm, clinical, and, dare I say it, professional.

Eventually, we both waved each other goodbye for the night, the infildrone zipping right into the wide open door, entering without fuss.

The elemental soon turned towards me, straddling both hands on his hips. “I am afraid we cannot provide you with a bed or any other—”

“It’s alright.” I acknowledged, prompting the man to simply nod and walk off, as I was left alone with just my thoughts for the night.

But before I could even turn to the EVI to begin my reports, a familiar face soon arrived. It belonged to a certain elf that seemed just as chipper as ever, though with some clear boredom plastered on her features.

“Cadet Emma Booker?” Rila approached, the elf beaming with excitement as she did so.

“Oh! Hey, Rila! What’s up? How’s it going?”

“The usual.” She responded, still making the effort to withhold both honorifics and titles, just as I insisted she do. “I… don’t really have much of anything to do here after all.” She offered sheepishly. “It’s… starting to get to me, I think. I’m not one to sit around doing nothing like a landed no—” She paused, stopping herself, realizing that we were no longer in the private confines of her room. “Er, well, you know what I mean!”

“Yeah, I getcha.” I snickered. “Well then, are you feeling okay?”

“Yes!”

“Good, good.” I nodded. “Honestly, they should just discharge you by now. Keeping someone who’s healthy locked away in a hospital is generally not good practice.” I sighed. “But… we both know it’s not so much your health that’s keeping you here.”

Rila nodded slowly. “They say that my case is… quite low on the priority list. The investigation into Lord Lartia’s death is essentially ‘a done case,’ as the healers have put it. But apparently something is preventing it from moving to its final phases. Until then, I will be here… stuck in… ‘limbo,’ as you’ve put it, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s the expression.” I nodded. “Well… wait, actually, Rila… You did mention how you had nowhere to go after this, right?”

The elf’s gaze lowered following that reminder, as she nodded weakly all the same. “Indeed, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, I might just have something perfectly lined up for you.” I grinned. “You were an accountant or something like that, right?”

“I was an apprentice bookkeeper and secretary to Lord Lartia’s enterprise, yes.” She nodded, her eyes slowly growing with excitement, as she was quick to put two and two together. “I… I also have accreditation! Er, most of it may require some trips to the Crownlands to recover, but I have had many years of working experience within—”

“You worked with someone as stringent as Lord Lartia, and he considered you good enough to keep on for years. That’s good enough of a resume for me, Rila.” I grinned. “I’m starting a private venture soon, a stationery store down in Elaseer. Now, things are still in the planning phase. But given I have a very seasoned partner involved, and seeing as how slow your case is going, I bet by the time you’re discharged, you’d be there just in time for the grand opening. So, what do you say? You wanna join up on our venture? As… I guess bookkeeper and secretary? Er, I’m still not sure how the org chart for this whole op is going to be laid out, but I’ll keep a seat warm for you if you’d li—”

“YES!” The elf practically shouted out, her eyes twinkling with excitement the likes of which I hadn’t seen from her since that fateful day we first met. However, just as she was at the peak of her excitement, so too would she self-regulate it, as she placed two hands on her mouth, realizing she’d just yelled loudly in the middle of a hallway at an ungodly hour.

“What I mean to say is… yes, Cadet Emma Booker! I would love to be part of your venture!” She added with a whisper.

“Good! Very good.” I beamed back in equal measures of excitement.

“Wait… does this mean you’ve attained or acknowledged your noble titles, Lady Booker?” She preempted, causing me to raise both hands in reflexive rebuttal.

“What? No, no. It’s nothing like that. My business partner will be the one handling the legal aspect of this venture. Or rather, the Nexian-facing legal processes.” I corrected, causing the elf to simply nod slowly in acknowledgement.

“I see.” She expressed, almost sounding disappointed if not for the latent excitement still coursing through her veins. “Might I ask who this benefactor is?”

“Oh, sure. He has a general store in town, I think? So you may have heard of him. Lord Etholin Esila, of Rontalisrealm.” I answered.

However, instead of a simple nod or a smile in acknowledgement of the little noodly ferret merchant, I saw the life drain from her already pale face.

“Esila?” She repeated under a shaky breath, swallowing down a huge nervous gulp. “You mean the Esila family? The skimmers? The slashers? The Esila Excisors?”

I stared back blankly in response, unable to… reconcile with what I was hearing.

“I… I think we might have family names mixed up. I’m talking about the pattenor Esilas. You know, the brown-furred, brown-eyed, green-robe-wearing slinky—”

“That’s them.” The elf practically sank back, her eyes shaking not quite fear but sheer intimidation. “You partnered with one of the Slashers?” She questioned before just as quickly correcting herself. “Er, not that there’s anything wrong with a decision such as that, ma’am.”

And in doing so, she once again course-corrected herself into Nexian class politeness.

“First of all, drop the ma’am. It makes me feel old.” I spoke with a snicker, trying my best to breathe some levity back into the situation. “Second of all… where the heck did Slasher and Excisor come from? Out of all the titles and monickers I’ve heard Etholin addressed by, not once have I heard anything coming even remotely close to, well, that. So what gives?”

“I am sorry if it was in any way insulting, Cadet Em—”

“Nono, it’s not insulting… or at least I don’t think it is? Regardless, since you did bring it up, the burden of context now falls solely on you.” I announced with an over-the-top vigor before promptly plopping to the floor in lieu of finding a suitable seat. “So do me a favor and spill the tea!” I beamed, as I couldn’t help but picture Etholin in the same context as the word ‘slasher.’

…

Though try as I might, I couldn’t come up with anything. At least, nothing that wasn’t immediately absurd.

Because as much as the sight of Etholin donning a perforated spacesuit helm while wielding a vintage pneumatic impact drill was amusing, it definitely wasn’t where this was going.

If anything, the truth of the matter was bound to be yet another case of reality outpacing fiction in its intrigue and drama. Especially considering this was coming from one of the most valuable sources there was — the grassroots perspective.

It was one of the more earnest reads of a person you could get if SIOP was to be believed.

“Tell me more about… House Esila the Excisors.” I urged the ever timid Rila with a growing, excitable grin, gesturing for her to join me cross-legged on the floor.