News ot the war between Calabeck and Rochambeau crossed the campus like a lukewarm breeze. There was nothing like a tale of bloodshed to spin the world sober. But serious thoughts never hit me as hard as the callousness of the conversations around me.
“Naught but a few peasents shall bleed out in the mud before the two houses settle their quabbles.”
“If not the usual, just another duel. I wonder who the champions would be.”
“If hearsay bears any truth, Rochambeau was headhunting Calabeck’s arsenal months before the cassus belli.”
“Was that not the cassus belli?”
“Nay. They discovered more mara veins in the disputed border. My father told me all about it.”
“Sounds like a few dead sprites won’t solve anything this time. The magelords may have to get involved.”
Sons and daughters of magelord seldom opened their mouths without inviting rage. They talked about war like it was a game. Life or death did not matter where normal people were concerned. Yet talk of mages in conflict got their blood boiling. Mine was hot throughout. These people seemed to know so much, but their thoughts hovered above normal folk like sheers among sheep.
I could not forget their faces: sharp noses, pallid foreheads, clean as your typical noble with the classic straight hair as well. These were some of the shared traits of Baumwolland lords and ladies. But one of the students carried a curious burn mark over his left eyelid, along with a frozen scowl to go along with it. His friends held the same upright posture while casually remarking on the low cost of dead serfs. But suddenly, out of nowhere, they went stiff and removed their berets to reveal their straight hairlines.
Someone walked into the room, and I caught a glimpse. To everyone’s surprise, it was none other than the Swan Queen, Madame Goireman. The enviably beautiful and fucking loathesome girl had stepped into the grand parlor with her entourage of pretty girls, enforcing a chill silence among the boys who had been so haughty up until that point. I didn’t know why she came. I didn’t care, but everyone else certainly did. I swear, it seemed that everyone else wanted to talk to her without making it obvious that they wanted to talk to her. That included the boss of the boy squad. At least, that was everyone except for Krixis.
Krixis remained seated near the enoutage when blondie walked into the room. Some of the boys elbowed him in their effort to drag his attention away from his textbook and toward Goireman. It worked, but after glancing in the young lady’s direction, he quickly went back to reading.
Interesting… I thought.
From the play that ensued, I cared little to decipher. I did not care about how casually Goireman spoke and admonished her courters. It did not matter how many rich boys and girls, talented or talentless, tried to win her approval or praise her skills as a mage and scholar. I didn’t care enough to pay attention to the fact that she was already a master of water-based magic at the age of fifteen, nor did I pay attention to the praise of her achieving diamond marks on all of her courses, or the fact that her parents were renowned mages and lived in a large manor with their own honor guard of arcane wielders. Why would I pay attention to that kind of stuff? I had never seen it myself.
“Watcha lookin’ at?”
She startled me! Who do you think? I liffted my chin ninety degrees to catch Elise with a toothpick in her mouth, eyeing me with enough of a punitive glance to realize that I was in fact judging Madame Goireman and t her aristocrats from afar. She picked up on it right away, and so she stared where I had been staring for the better part of two conversations.
“How fare the lords and ladies of Cinderfall?”
“I don’t know,” I replied instantly.
“You know,” she corrected.
“Maybe, I know a little.”
“How little do you know, Madame Lux?”
“I don’t think I know more than you or anyone else.”
“Like the fact that Goireman is a ranking member of the School’s Flame Council, despite being in the second semester of her very first year at this academy?”
“Yes.”
“The same year as you?”
“Yes?” I said through clenching teeth.
“Indeed, despite the fact that her affinity is water? I guess it doesn’t matter when you’re a daimond seal in all courses.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Certainly not.” She leaned over me. “So, why are you scowling?”
“I am not scowling. That’s just my face.”
And Ms. Delarose began pinching my cheeks in the most condescening manner. “Oh, is little Pollux jealous of the pretty popular girl?”
“Who said I was jealous?” I calmly stated with my face being squeezed in all directions.
“Is it because she’s better than you?” Elise resorted to baby talk. “Becwuzz che’s so amajing at magic? You hate a blonde girl, dontchu? Yessh you do? You think she’s a pompous bish? Is she a bish? Yes, she iss. Yes, she iss.”
There’s something about having your cheeks sqeezed while being talked down to by a girl shorter than you. I could not keep a straight face. “What is your point, Elise?”
“There is no point… not to any of it. Right? They’re just people.”
“They’re mages.”
“Everything special about them comes from their parents and their parents’ parents.”
“What are you getting at?”
“You don’t even know your parents, but do you think they somehow make you better than all of your brothers and sisters? I remember.”
“Of course not. I’m just lucky.”
“But you worked hard.”
“Sure.”
“So don’t be mad at luck.”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like you are. You always seem bothered by things you cannot control.”
A change in atmosphere grabbed me by the eyelashes. And by change, I mean that Roy showed up out of nowhere among the clique of boisterous lads and lasses. My hearing became acute then and there. Knowing Roy, he was walking straight into that even without any sense. I was certain because, unlike anyone else up until now, he dared to approach Madame Goireman directly. And he did it what the same damn goofy dimples he had when he approached me for the first time. It triggered something in me because I stood at the ready.
So, the boy trod up to the popular girl without a care. And as the girl’s braid swirled, her face contorted from confusion, suspicion, or a combination of annoyances.
“Is it true that you are poor with fire magic?” Roy said so candidly.
Damn it, Roy, you couldn’t possibly be such an oblivious fool! I thought. However, the boldness of his statement startled me less than Madame Goireman. Because her usual blank and unflinching expression suddenly drooped to a surprise frown. It was quick, but I caught it before the rest of the silver spoon brigade noticed what was going on.
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