Redemption Arc

“What is clear to us is the fact that someone inscribed summoning sigils within the Concord itself,” Dean Mortimer declared, standing in the same spot where he’d once spoken of Renewal Day. “Rest assured that we will not stop until we discover the culprit for these incidents.”

Lucian listened to the speech with general disinterest. It was mostly the same as he remembered it. They didn’t know what had happened, who was responsible, or what they were going to do about it.

“We will do our best to ensure that this is an unfortunate isolated incident in an institution that has an otherwise flawless record,” the dean said. “The fact remains that this is one of the safest places in the world. We have the most talented instructors in this Collegium, and they are willing and able to defend you should the need arise. Not to mention… you.” The dean pointed out to them. “You, our next generation. Given time, those creatures that defiled the Concord will be no match for you. Indeed, two students in particular have already made their worth known.”

The dean shuffled some papers. “I would like to give special thanks to Rowan Sumner and Lord Lucian Villamar.” He pointed toward Lucian, spotting him out of the crowd. “The pair found themselves facing an ogre. It thought to toy with them, setting goblins upon them while it watched. But did they break? No. They slew these goblins, and when the ogre came charging, Lord Lucian Villamar faced it down and cast it back to the hells.”

Even as the words were coming out, he heard some mutterings around him.

“You’re kidding. The Javelin Jester? Guy who couldn’t handle a spear to save his life?” someone nearby said. Even Lucian had to grin at the title of Javelin Jester.

The dean continued. “It’s these actions that have informed my decision to appoint him auxiliary to the Student Ambassadors,” the dean added, and Lucian heard an indignant ‘what?!’ muttered as all too often in the crowd. “He will perform duties alongside them to aid in the functioning of the ambassadorial program,” he continued very quickly, almost like an auctioneer.

Slipped that one in there, didn’t you? Lucian thought. Wouldn’t be a school dean if he didn’t know how to spin a crisis to his advantage. Shame he can’t prevent one to save his life.

“On the front of those wounded and dead,” the dean said, forcing people to shut up lest they be perceived as callous. “Duke Clemens Metterand, chancellor of the Empire of Riverra, has already regained consciousness. He expressed a commitment to redrafting the Treaty of Verne, which was destroyed in the battle.

“The demons seek to break us. They seek to end this long peace that we have painstakingly established and preserve for so long.” He paused for a while, looking out at everyone. “We would be a fool to play right into their hands. I’d like you to remember that as you join your fellow students in this Collegium. The Great War nearly allowed the demons to break us. I cannot be certain we would survive another war of that intensity.”

The crowd could feel the weight of the melancholy—Lucian included.

“There will be a memorial service for those that passed in the attack in eight weeks, here in the stadium,” the dean said. “Thank you for your time.”

At that, the dean stepped off stage. There was no applause—just an uneasy silence as people made to go about their day. It seemed a difficult thing to just get on with life after what had happened, but that was truly all they could do. Lucian himself had some destinations in mind.

As Lucian left, however, someone stood in his path—another student.

“So, your family arranged a demon attack to justify blatantly bribing the Collegium to appoint you as ‘student auxiliary?’” the woman said.

The inflammatory accusation immediately made a lot of people pay attention to them. Lucian studied the person who was blocking his path. She was a ginger woman with a pretty freckled face—another Student Ambassador. She was a noble from the Kingdom of Vantz: Olivia Vantz-Leon, a cadet branch of the royal line. She had one of the strongest grudges against Lucian—by applying pressure from Metterand and Duke Cyril Villamar, Lucian had blocked her petition to the Concord to clear her deceased father’s name of the crime of attempting to summon a demon.

Lucian tried to ignore her and move past, but Olivia followed him and held her hand out. “Answer me,” she insisted.

Lucian looked her in the eye. “Why? You’ve already made up your mind.”

Olivia looked taken aback at that response.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said. Rowan walked to support Lucian. “Bodies aren’t even cold, lady. Words like that could make more before they are. You heard what the dean said—those things would love nothing more than for us to tear each other apart. You’re gonna indulge that before the memorial’s come and gone?”

Olivia looked over at Rowan, and after a moment of silent consideration, turned and walked away without saying anything more. A few people muttered in disappointment.

“Hell… you weren’t lying about not being popular,” Rowan noted quietly.

“Just words,” Lucian dismissed, though he hated this feeling of being blamed for things he didn’t do. “Her cousin’s the Chancellor, Sibylle Vantz. As far as I know, she’s not yet woken up. Have to forgive her for that.”

Rowan looked after her, nodding. “Right. Well… you’re the student auxiliary, huh?” He prodded his thumb against his own chest. “Don’t know if you knew, but I’m the Head Student Ambassador this year. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. First meeting’s tomorrow. As for classes… the Villamars specialize in dark magic, right?”

“Yeah,” Lucian confirmed. “But I’ll be taking holy magic classes.”

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Rowan blinked a few times. He clearly thought it was odd, but was too polite to say so. “Oh. Well… certainly did a fine job of using those holy spells against that ogre.” He tapped Lucian’s shoulder. “See you around, I hope.”

At that, Rowan left quickly. It seemed as though Lucian had done a good job of making the protagonist positively predisposed toward him. Maybe once he learned all of the things that Lucian had done, he’d change up… but for now, Lucian thought this could only be a good thing. Always good to have friends in high places.

Now, it’s time for holy magic, Lucian reflected.

***

The moment that Lucian even entered the lecture room for holy magic, he was greeted by universal disdain. It was a very solemn, open space with white marble flooring and plenty of space for practice. People from his house—Villamar—were traditionally attuned to the dark element. Most houses with holy bloodlines had a strong sense of rivalry with the Villamars. He was surrounded by a lot of upturned noses.

The head instructor, Lady Lorenna Brumaire, greeted him politely all the same. She was a fan favorite, Lucian remembered, and seeing her in person it was no wonder why. She was quite charming.

“Welcome, Lord Lucian,” she greeted. “I don’t believe I saw you yesterday. I heard that you used holy magic against that ogre. Has that experience piqued your curiosity?”

“Something like that,” Lucian confirmed with a nod. He was glad she didn’t seem to be as biased against him as her niece, Lady Helen Brumaire.

“Much of what determines someone’s ability in magic is heredity, with someone’s nature also having a huge effect,” she said gently, perhaps anticipating his failure. She didn’t outright say it, but he could feel the measure behind those words. She gestured over to a device that looked like an organ made of crystals, though where there should have been keys there was only a device on which a handprint had been carved. “If you could step over there, you’ll be tested by a device to measure your affinity to the holy element. You’ll be joined by an instructor just after to finish your aptitude test.”

Lucian nodded, then stood in line patiently. Lorenna’s niece, Helen Brumaire, was in line not far from him. When she stepped up and placed her hand down, he watched the crystals explode into brilliant light and winced a little from their brightness. She had 75% holy affinity—no other Student Ambassador had a higher value. Helen turned around with a proud smile. Her gaze fell to him for a moment, and he didn’t miss her eyes narrow.

Lucian felt a mix of excitement and nervousness when his time came. Some of the same culprits that had dogged him during the polearm test watched intently. After that speech this morning, a lot of people fell silent to watch. The attendant directed him to place his hand on the device, and he did. Remembering the brightness of Helen’s test, Lucian prudently closed his eyes.

Flashbang, he thought as his hand touched down.

The light was so blinding that Lucian’s vision went white even with his eyes closed. He heard those behind him give yelps of alarm as veritable floodlights were turned on directly into their eyes. Maybe he kept it there a little longer than he should’ve—maybe a lot longer. When he pulled away and turned around, he admitted some intense satisfaction. Lady Helen stood there, her mouth hanging open with wide eyes. Countless others were similarly stunned.

***

Even once the spectacular sight of the light that she’d seen had faded away, Helen couldn’t help but stare. She had enough wits to realize she was standing with her mouth wide open and fix that, but no matter how many seconds passed afterward, her shock wouldn’t fade. She noticed one of her hands was trembling, and grabbed one with the other to stop that.

Affinity with holy magic was the pride of House Brumaire. It was a notoriously difficult affinity to develop and retain. Bloodline was the most significant factor. As far as she knew, those of House Brumaire had the strongest inclination toward holy affinity of any noble house. One’s nature was the second factor, and coincided with the difficulty—throughout their life, they needed to be good, to be just, and they needed to put others before themselves. House Brumaire understood that more than any other house, she thought.

The hue of the light was a direct reflection of the purity of holy affinity. And Lord Lucian Villamar’s light…

White. White as snow, she reflected. The purest white I’ve ever seen.

Even her aunt, Lorenna, still had the barest hint of gold to her holy magic. For Lord Lucian Villamar, heir to one of the most prominent dark-attuned mages in the world, to have a holy affinity of such strength challenged everything that she knew to be true for the discipline she’d been readying herself to learn her whole life. When she noticed her aunt watching with arms crossed, Helen couldn’t help but walk to her.

“Lorenna,” Helen said, and her aunt turned to look at her. “Could that have been… tampered with?” she asked quietly.

“Tampered with,” Lorenna repeated with quiet scorn, shaking her head.

Helen felt some shame, and glanced over at Lucian once more. He didn’t even look shocked at the result. Rather, he spoke calmly with the instructor. His teacher seemed more shaken than he did. He still had that same expression he always had—a faint smile, like he was condescending to the person he spoke to.

“I don’t understand,” Helen continued. “Lorenna, even your affinity isn’t…” she trailed off. Her teacher seem to be taking this in stride, but she couldn’t. “Either what our house teaches about affinities is wrong, or…” She watched Lucian as she walked away. “…I am.”

“Part of learning is discovering what you thought you knew completely wasn’t the whole picture,” Lorenna said.

Helen looked to her aunt hopefully. “Then is there something I’m missing?”

“Find out,” Lorenna suggested. “There are others I must greet.” Then, she turned and walked away.

***

“Given your affinity, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble reaching any of the ranks, but we still need to perform the aptitude test,” the instructor said to Lucian. “Do you know any holy magic?”

“None,” Lucian said.

“I see. In that case, you’ll go down as unranked,” she said. “…but if you can learn a spell by the end of day, you could immediately go up to bronze. I could start the lesson right away.”

The low stat requirements for advancement in holy magic was one of the reasons that Lucian had been so eager.

“Could I choose one spell in particular? It’s a spell by the name of Solar Butterfly,” Lucian proposed.

“Sure, that’s no trouble,” the instructor confirmed with a nod. “Shall we start the lesson right away?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed.

Solar Butterfly wasn’t a grand spell by any means, but it was required for a quest and provided him with his first attack spell. Tomorrow would be the Student Ambassador meeting—and from there, the countdown to the first story mission. He had to be capable of holding his own without being hand-held by scrolls.

Not a single moment to rest, he reflected bitterly.