127 - A New Day
Selena woke up on the right side of the bed, for what felt like the first time in a long time.
The sun seemed to shine extra brightly today, even though the seasonal overcast was only just beginning. Breakfast was much better than usual, and the school assembly discussing everything that had transpired the night before didn't seem quite as irritating as it should have been.
Even the knowledge that she was going home to endless meetings and meditative exercises wasn’t enough to dim her mood as she got ready for the day. The monks would have nothing to complain about this semester. She hadn’t gotten into trouble, well, except for that one incident with Arielle, but that was settled. A demerit for her didn’t mean the same thing as it did for other people. She was only at this academy because it was the best for her training, but even if she weren’t here, she would still be the best.
She would still be queen.
And speaking of Arielle…perhaps she could begin to acknowledge that maybe she was wrong about the girl. Or maybe not wrong per se, but she had overestimated her and given too much of her energy to whatever was going on with the girl’s strange powers.
If Arielle Blacksoil really was demon-affiliated, it would likely be revealed soon enough. However, a demon-affiliated girl should have been able to get rid of the creature in the cave herself rather than reporting it to the dean.
After all, Selena had managed to do it practically on her own, even knowing very little about the creatures. Even before Pietro Li's spell activation, her spell had been intense enough to pass through the abyss and hurt the creature, staying focused even when it tried to escape.
Arielle Blacksoil couldn’t have done that; if not, the dean would have asked for her assistance. There was something undoubtedly strange about the girl's powers, but it still was probably no match for Selena’s, so it didn't even matter what it was.
Selena had only been distracted and bothered over nothing when she should have been focusing on growing her skill.
In any case, she had better things to do now than to worry about the first year. She only had one more semester left at the academy, and then she would have to prove herself to the world as the superior force she had become.
She would be a queen who could not be controlled, who they could not get rid of, like they had done to her father.
She would never let herself become their pawn, no matter what, which meant that she needed to dedicate the rest of her focus to getting stronger and growing more influence.
Once the assembly was over, on the way back to her room, she heard someone call her name.
It was James, who was jogging to catch up to her.
“Hey," he said. "The dean is looking for you."
Selena sighed. She forgot about the meeting this morning. The dean’s habit of employing a cadre of students to send summons was always odd. She wondered why he never just instituted an announcement system, or even used one of his paper birds as a personal messenger, rather than making students call each other like archaic mundane commoners.
Nevertheless, she was in a good mood, so she headed to his office without complaint.
On the way there, several people stared at her and bowed. Selena waved and insisted they not bow, as usual, but this time was different. This time they were looking at her with the same deference that they often gave archmages.
Deference she deserved for saving their lives.
She assumed that the dean wanted to thank her personally for her aid last night, or perhaps Pietro Li had asked for a private meeting with her.
When she walked in, though, the dean was alone and had his back turned to her. He was staring outside the window, down at students, some of whom were already being picked up by the guardians or parents. Typically, this was done for first years and second years. Third and fourth years made it off campus on their own.
Selena vaguely wondered if Elric would arrive to pick up Arielle.
“You called?” Selena said, and Dean Octavius turned around, his expression unreadable.
“Sit, Selena.”
“If it’s going to be quick, I prefer to stand.”
“It’s not," the dean said, and Selena frowned because the expression on his face did not read as gratitude.
She crossed her arms over her chest as she sauntered over to the seat. “Is something wrong?”
“Do you know Robert Cross?”
“No.” She sat. “Should I?”
“He’s the third-year boy who led his group to North Base with the intent of summoning a demon there. A demon he was convinced would grant him power. Do you know why he thought that?"
Selena stared at him, not a single feature faltering. No one knew where the rumors about Arielle's cave demon had started. She had made sure of it, not making any definitive statements to anyone and simply orchestrating a tangled web of "Did you hear? So-and-so was talking about...etc."
With gossip, it was already difficult to track the source, even when one didn't take the painstaking measures Selena had taken. So why was the dean bringing it up? Was he bluffing or simply guessing?
“Gossip is like a two-toned river, split in the middle,” he said. "One side, people are having an endless flow of entertainment, quenching their thirst with the decadent stream. On the other side, people are drinking from a poisoned well that contaminates everything around it. You see, Robert Cross was a talented student from the Crooked Tail sect. Not a well-known sect, by any means, but one which could have truly benefited from his talent. However, scared of the future, scared that he would get so close to his goal and end up failing right at the penultimate step, or that he would never meet his assumed potential, he let himself get lured by the idea that there was a demon that could grant him the power with little downside. He thought that a student here had done the same thing and that we condoned such behavior." The master paused, pointedly. "And for that, he's going to pay, likely with his life."
Selena arched her brow.
"And?" Selena asked. "What he did was heinous, and he's getting punished for it. Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you did an incredibly foolish thing, Selena."
The word hit like a slap, mostly because the dean had never used that tone with her before, his voice reeking of harsh censure.
She stiffened. "What are you talking about?"
"Please. Let's not play this game. We both know exactly who created those rumors and why." His eyes were a clear light brown that was near golden, filled as always with hidden knowledge. No longer did he look the part of the jolly grandfather figure, appealing to her conscience. He was not asking if she had done anything. He was telling her what she had done.
It always annoyed her that he, and other Luxa-dominants like him, were so arrogant and thought they knew everything about everything. What was most annoying was how often they were right, even with no evidence to show for it.
There was no way for him to know. He couldn't have investigated something like that without interrogating people, and she would know if they had been interrogated.
“You cannot prove that I did that," she said, although deep inside, a part of her wasn't so sure.
"I don't need to prove it," he said. “I'm not putting you on trial, although we both know if I truly wanted to, I could. This is me speaking to you as the same girl that came to my office, almost three years ago to the day. I told that girl that I believed in her, that I was so looking forward to seeing her grow and touch the world with her power and, most importantly, her heart."
The words reminded Selena of the meeting he referred to, which was in fact three years ago. It was after she'd spent nearly the entire semester being a pest, skipping class when she felt like it and attempting to sneak off campus, just to prove she could. She would get called to the dean's office time and time again. Each time, she thought he would punish and scold like the monks did when she defied them. She was ready for that, even ready to be expelled.
Instead, he would ask her to sit down. Speak to her in a gentle tone. He would systematically chip away at her walls until she found herself, during a session, telling him who she wanted to be, the standard she wanted to live up to, what she was truly scared of.
He would tell her things, things she knew but had never heard voiced out in quite the same way before.
He'd told her she was brave and smart enough to achieve her goals, and kinder than she wanted to give herself credit for.
He'd told her that both her power, her courage, and her heart could one day touch the sky and be felt around the world. He would look at her with warmth and kindness in his eyes.
He wasn't looking at her like that anymore.
A discomfort rose, but she refused to look away. If he was disgusted or angry with her, so be it. It wasn't like she cared what his opinion was anyway, not when she would soon outrank him.
However, a trace of sadness crept over his anger.
“What do you think your father would think of your recent actions, Selena?” the dean said.
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Selena stiffened visibly. She narrowed her eyes at him, the manipulative louse. He thought he could get her with that? Please.
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” she said. “He’s dead now."
"He died protecting your people. He died advocating for the weak."
"No. He died because he was weak. Because he hadn't taken proper command of his kingdom. Because he had let those damn parasitic ministers walk all over him, thinking they were entitled to the leash they had placed around his neck, and because he hadn't gotten rid of it early enough, the leash eventually turned into a noose."
“Your father’s weakness was that he cared too much for his people," the dean spoke softly. "And he wasn't willing to gamble with their lives. He likely did have a plan to extricate himself from the ministers’ hold, but doing so hastily would have led the nation into a long, protracted war, and many innocents would have died in the process. Your father may have found that to be an untenable solution. So instead, he put his life on the line for them and paid the ultimate price." He continued staring. "In hindsight, should he have killed them all anyway and risked the war? Should he have put the long-term goals over the short-term losses? One might make that argument. Perhaps his sacrifice wasn’t noble at all, but foolish. However, I am sure he would not be happy to know that his daughter has gone in the opposite direction and now cares too little for the innocent."
"Robert Cross isn't innocent."
"Of course not. The boy drank from the poisoned well with his own two hands, but do you not feel any responsibility for leading him there?” He leaned forward. “Do you not see how your cruel actions make you far more similar to the so-called parasitic ministers than to the man whose blood runs through your veins?”
The words detonated straight through her chest. Rage spiked, and she shot to her feet. “How dare you–”
"I dare because I'm telling you the truth." Dean Octavius' voice did not rise, but they rang with unmistakable command. "Because I might be the only one willing to tell you the truth. You should listen, Selena. Sit."
She bit her tongue, wanting so badly to curse at him, but at the same time, not wanting him to know that he had gotten her to that point.
She’d always hated this about the dean. Hated how he acted so superior and how he acted as if he cared about her. She hated the fact that he could see far more than she wanted him to see.
Yet she didn't storm out. She was no coward, and she would not run from him. So she sat back down, her body trembling with rage and even worse, discomfort.
The dean, calm, continued to speak.
“We both know that none of my punishments matter to you in the long run,” he said. "Perhaps in your first year they were mildly inconvenient, but even now, if you chose to drop out of school, it wouldn’t make a difference besides tainting your reputation. You are far too elevated, far too necessary."
She cocked her chin up. That was correct. She was necessary.
"However, that shields you from external consequences, not internal ones. And the latter tends to build up and assail you when you least expect it." He folded his hands on the desk. "Not everyone who surrounds you has your best interests at heart; you know that, Selena. But I have nothing to gain by telling you this, except to help you course correct."
His piercing gaze made her feel like her soul had been stripped bare, like she had been reduced to that same child who had once sought approval from those who only cared about her performance.
“I still see you dancing on the edge of chaos. I still see potential brighter than the sun. Someone with so much capacity for good, wasting it, doing incredibly absurd, outlandish things....I now also see that it's possible that you will waste all of that potential on nonsense. On jealousy, and carelessness, and vile, stupid cruelty which may be even worse than outright evil. This trajectory you have placed yourself on will leave nothing but blood and waste in your wake. It will not be your power that will fail you then. It will be your lack of humanity. You will live the rest of your life searching for that knife in your back, and eventually you will find it"
His words dropped like bombs, ricocheting the drumbeats of her heart.
She loathed it, despised every single word that came out of his mouth.
She hated that he called her stupid, hated that she felt stupid, hated that he looked more disappointed than angry, and she especially hated that a part of her cared.
It would have been easier if he were angry. She could deal with anger, easily meet it with cool indifference and biting humor.
However, this...whatever this is...
It made her feel small and petty.
Which she was not.
....
....
Fine, perhaps it had been a little petty to start those rumors, and to orchestrate the fight with Anne. Perhaps she had been a little envious of Arielle, who had ultimately proved to be inferior to her. But that didn't mean that was who she was. It wasn't who she wanted to be either.
She was too great for that.
She was Selena Gregor, the last Calor Princess. She was powerful, but also good. She saved people.
But also led one of them to their doom.
She ground her teeth. The dean didn't say anything else, as though waiting for her to come to the realization herself. She understood what he was trying to say. What she had done was beneath her. He'd been disappointed because he had not expected such behavior from her.
Perhaps it was wrong.
Looking back, she certainly felt stupid now, and embarrassed, which was the worst thing to feel. Her face began to fill with heat, and she crossed her arms again. Her actions did feel too similar to those of the plotting, snivelling bastards who had killed her father.
But she was not them. She was not.
The silence grew heavier. Every second that ticked by, she had to fight with herself to hold his gaze, not to fidget. She couldn't let him win this war of wills, even though she already felt like she had lost by giving him a reaction.
She wanted something, anything to break the silence. But when the dean started talking again, she wanted him to stop.
"Your father is still mourned today not because he was powerful,” the dean said. “But because he was good. Because he always fought for the weak, and thought hard about how each of his actions affected them. Ask yourself, Selena, given the entirety of your actions at this academy to date, given your callous treatment of those around you and those affected by you...if you were to meet a fate like your father's, how many would truly mourn you?"
It should have been an easy answer.
At first she thought of all the people she knew, all those who admired her.
The monks who had raised her.
However, their emotions toward her had been more duty than affection, their alliance more towards the nation than it was towards her personally. They only served her because of what she had represented, not because of who she was. They respected and revered her, had protected her when she was young.
But there was none of the easy affection she had observed between Arielle and Elric on Family Day, none of the tearful embraces that Arielle and her adopted father had shared.
It did not matter. She had an entire kingdom of people waiting for her to take the throne.
A kingdom that didn’t truly know her. A kingdom divided by factions with their own self-interests, whose representatives only sought to use her.
What about her friends?
What friends?
She wasn’t truly ever close with anyone. She had not spoken to Anne since the incident on Family Day. The few people who hung around never got close enough to see beneath the surface she showed them.
She was never sure they liked her very much, even though they may admire her.
She wasn't sure she would like herself very much either if she were in their shoes.
Damn it, she didn't want to do this. Didn't want to be having an epiphany right now, but the dean's words and his eyes left her nowhere to hide.
The dean. The dean and Selena had had several meetings in her first years at the academy, not unlike the ones he was now having with Arielle. He had told her several things, advised her. He’d seemed to truly care for her.
But now he was looking at her like a disappointed father, and that stung more than she wanted to admit.
He was not her father, and she was not a child, though he was trying valiantly to make her feel like one.
The boy's fate wasn't her doing.
Or was it?
She wanted to leave. She was tired of this, tired of being stripped raw for his cruelly unabashed perusal.
She didn't care if she wasn't truly loved. It was better to be admired and feared anyway than to have what her father had. As much as the people had mourned for decades after his death, he was still dead. Being feared would help her avoid his fate.
Would it?
She finally tore her gaze away from the dean's, unable to take it anymore, the self-doubt and uncertainty plaguing her. "Can I go now?" At the very least, she could admit that what she had done was stupid, and it was especially stupid that she had done it because she was threatened by Arielle Blacksoil. But no more. The girl was not worth any of this.
She felt ill just thinking about it all.
"I suppose,” the dean said. “But you should leave with this thought: someone has been basically condemned to a painful existence partly because of you. It is not unknown for students who receive a core suppression this late in life to end their suffering with their own hands. Robert Cross might be one of them, and if that doesn’t weigh on your conscience, if that doesn’t cause you to examine your actions deeply and consider what type of person would treat people so disposably…” He shook his head. "Then I don't know if I was ever right about you in the first place."
***
Arielle said goodbye to Lyra almost immediately after the assembly.
Lyra was picked up by her father, who arrived on the ferry, greeting her with a big bear hug and ruffling her hair, much to Lyra's consternation.
After Arielle exchanged greetings with them, the two girls made their plans to meet the day before Lyra's birthday, when Arielle was sure she would have a cure.
Arielle herself was going to Khor to meet Vittoria, but she had to go see Woden first. He said he was done with the potion, and she wanted to take it to Vittoria so they could save the dragon.
On the way there, she ran into Maus and his mother, who were heading out hand-in-hand.
"Maus," Arielle called and headed over. "Mrs. Jaybalm."
"Hello again, Arielle." The woman beamed, and Arielle bowed deeply with her hand pressed against her chest.
“Thank you for the robe,” she said. "It is by far the most beautiful item of clothing I own." She thought back to the several things Elric had bought for her, which stayed at Vittoria's home. "Until fairly recently, at least, and even with that, it is currently, certainly in the top five."
The woman chuckled. “You're very welcome, my dear, especially after everything you’ve done for Maus,” she said. “I suppose the two of you won’t see each other for two months. Please feel free to visit us in Stronghold if you’re ever around."
“We’ll see each other,” Ari said. “Maus and I have to go shopping for the ball anyway."
“What ball?”
Maus’ face turned the color of a tomato as his mother gave him a quizzical look.
“You didn’t tell her?” Arielle asked Maus, who shook his head.
"I wanted to give you time in case you changed your mind."
"Why would I change my mind?"
"No particular reason." His eyes dropped. "I just thought maybe down the line you might want to take someone else.”
“Like who?”
Maus shrugged, kicking a stone with his heel.
“What are you two talking about?" Maus' mother said.
"Arielle invited me to go to the Iverson Ball with her,” he said in a rush of sound, as though he wanted to get it out quickly before he got interrupted. "I said yes."
His mother's jaw dropped, her eyes close to popping out of her skull. "No! Arielle, you didn't..."
"Why?" Ari was alarmed. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, it's just...the ball is only reserved for the elites. I never thought...I never even dreamed..." She glanced down at Maus, who was considering his shoes as she shook her head. "Thank you so much, Arielle. I don't even know how to repay this favor."
"It's not a favor," she said. "There's no one else I want to go with, except maybe Lyra, but Lyra's already going with her father, so Maus is the obvious choice if I want to actually enjoy my time there."
"I see." The woman grinned widely, pleased. "Oh, my goodness, what a friendship you two have. Maus, you should have told me about this earlier. I would have already started making your suit. Now I must hurry and buy the materials." She glanced at Arielle. "If you'd like, Arielle, I can make you something too. That way you don't have to spend hundreds of silver on a dress."
Arielle thought of the coat the woman made and how perfectly fitted it was, with neat stitches.
“Okay,” Arielle said. “But I would like to pay for this one, material and labor.”
“No.” Maus' mother held out her hands, slender and calloused. “I could never ask you for that, after everything...."
“Please," Arielle said, already feeling uncomfortable with the prospect of more free stuff. "If not, I would feel greatly burdened."
"She would mother," Maus murmured. "Trust me."
His mother stared at Maus, then at Arielle, then she smiled a trembling smile.
"Of course," she said, executing a bow similar to Arielle's. "I would be honored."