16. Family Talk (Patreon)

3.

Celine took a greedy sip of her coffee.

‘Let us get one thing straight: Shisui is correct. I would rather have anything but you going on a revenge arc against the Baelith family. Powerful is the least of what they are.’

‘He compared them to a fortress,’ Silvah said.

‘That’s putting it lightly,’ the woman said. ‘No explanation I give you right now will be enough for you to truly grasp the importance and influence of their family.’

‘No worries,’ Miles said. ‘You’ll figure it out as you go.’

‘You will. For better or worse,’ Celine agreed. ‘Stay in our world long enough and you’ll meet every family whether you want to or not.’

‘Does that mean you will not help me?’ Silvah said.

She didn’t care about anything else.

‘It’s a tough decision,’ Celine said.

‘No,’ Silvah said. ‘It’s not.’

‘Maybe not for you.’

The woman raised her hand to stop Silvah from launching into a fit.

‘I’m not denying the possibility. However. If you want me to help you, you need to seriously prove your worth.’

‘Which means you’re stringing me along. Like he said.’

Uncle placed a hand on her shoulder.

‘Silvah, I understand your militancy. But let them finish.’

‘Whose side are you on?!’ Silvah half-pushed herself out of her chair, shoving her uncle’s hand off her. ‘I know it’s easy for you, but I am not letting anyone stop me from getting to the people who took my sister and murdered my family!’

He didn’t speak. Only held her gaze.

‘Sorry,’ she said immediately, biting her lip and looking away. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.’

Uncle sighed. ‘Don’t mind it,’ he said, and directed her back in her chair.

Celine gave Uncle a nod.

‘The worth I’m speaking of,’ the woman continued, ‘is in regard to your talent as a sorcerer and the value you can bring to our association. Unless your ability proves sufficient, revenge will never be an option. That’s the hard truth. Second, if you destroy more than you build, I cannot justify the lives that will be put in jeopardy for your quest.’

She was talking about permission like Silvah actually gave a single fuck about it, but Silvah suppressed another outburst.

‘And how would I “prove” these things to you?’

‘First, you’re taking the Sorcerer’s Exam—not in four years since you already expressed your refusal to wait that long—but this year. We’ll act as your sponsor.’

‘Sponsor?’

‘You cannot join the exam without a recognised society or family vouching for you,’ Celine clarified. ‘Though it’s late, we’ll pull some strings and register you so you can join the next batch of disciples, who start in a month.’

‘Fine. Thank you. And afterwards? How do I prove my worth after the exam[1] ? When will I have proven myself enough?’

Celine emptied the last of her coffee and put her cup away.

‘That information is not yet relevant.’

Steam burst from Silvah’s ears.

‘You—’

‘—are most likely going to die,’ Celine spoke over her.

Silvah frowned, tensing.

‘What?’

‘We may be a college, but the Sorcerer’s Exam is not a written test,’ Celine said unperturbed. ‘Every year is different. Last year we sent groups of students to hunt foul beasts of the first grade in the countryside.’

‘There were even some special grades in the mix,’ Miles said, shaking his head. ‘Those particular groups of students didn’t make it back.’

The sides of Silvah’s head squeezed, creating wrinkles on her forehead.

‘I’m not sure I follow.’

‘Foulbeasts are categorised into grades based on their power-level,’ Miles said patiently. ‘Five in total: four, three, two, one and special grade.’

He then raised three fingers.

‘Grade three.’

Silvah’s frown thickened.

‘Sorry?’

‘The grade of the mirror foulbeast who hunted you and killed at least six other people,’ Miles said. He placed his hands on the back of his head. ‘To put it into perspective, a late stage grade two would kill that mirror foulbeast with a swipe of their hand. A grade one could probably kill it just by sneezing. And a special grade?’

‘Its mere presence would be enough,’ Celine said.

‘Disciples usually train for at least four to six years before they dare take the Sorcerer’s Exam,’ Miles continued. ‘Most of their families task them with slaying a third grade spirit by themselves when they are still children. Yet the mortality rate of the Sorcerer’s Exam sits at a solid fifty percent.’

Miles sat upright.

‘You have not even been a disciple for a month. Do you understand what we are saying?’

‘Yes.’

She understood them—she truly did. She clutched her necklace, letting the cold seep in. There was no fear to be found inside her.

‘How long will the exam take?’ Silvah said.

‘About a month,’ Miles answered.

Silvah turned to Celine.

‘And if I complete this exam, you will start helping me find my sister?’

The woman’s gaze bore straight through Silvah despite her blinds.

‘You will have solidified your position in our world. Enough for your voice to be heard and considered. Not only by me but also the rest of the association. Whether it is followed depends on how big a wave you are capable of making: most important is that improve in handling your bound spirits. Massively.’

She’d take that as a yes. Her plan was to join the exam either way, no matter what this woman thought of it since Shisui had advised her to do so. If at the end it turned out Celine was playing her, Shisui was a single ring away.

‘So. Where is this exam taking place?’

‘One of the islands on the Forlorn Isles,’ Celine said. ‘The specific location will be revealed during the voyage.’

‘Voyage?’

‘You’ll be going by boat,’ Miles said. ‘The trip will take a few days, which is good for you. It will allow you more time to bond with your team.’

Here the man stilled for a moment as if he remembered something. He turned towards Celine, who sighed.

‘I’ll speak to her.’

Silvah wasn’t sure what that was about, but it appeared to be administrative shenanigans, so she let it be. Their conversation came to an end before long, with nothing else to discuss, and Silvah was advised to go back to bed and rest.

4.

But Silvah couldn’t quite get herself to sleep yet after the conversation with Celine and Miles—her mind was clouded with too many things to think about—so she had taken the opportunity to go outside.

She was seated on a bench up a hill, overlooking the courtyard in the College. Trees had blossomed, and their pink leaves shone in the dark, even though it was still early winter and their branches should be bare. Most of the disciples had also turned in for sleep. So, the curving pathways were deserted as the hallways had been.

The peace was almost disturbing after the chaotic night she had experienced in the auction. And if she closed her eyes for too long, she could see that auditorium, strewn with bodies and blood. It gripped her. Scared her, if she was being honest.

So, when Uncle Kenichi sauntered up the hill, she was all the gladder for it.

‘Mind if I sit?’

She scooped over, making room for him.

He sat down with an exaggerated sigh, as was the wont of older men.

‘Old bones. I’m no longer made for physical intensity.’

She chuckled.

‘Aunt Emiko must be complaining.’

He laughed, his hearty expression filling the silent night, chasing away the gruesome visions in her mind.

‘If only you knew,’ he said.

The dark slowly swallowed the ringing echoes of his laughter, and silence set in once more. With the warmth of another soul next to her, though, it was comfortable.

Uncle motioned to his cigarette pack, quietly asking if she minded, and she nodded her head in assent. The light of the bud winked as he dragged. It was like a locator beacon. He breathed out. White smoke spiralled, melt, and vanished into the dark.

‘Are you alright?’ Uncle said.

She nodded.

‘I am. I cannot sense the creature at least.’

It was not what he was asking. She knew. And when his hush continued, her own trick being used against her, she answered truthfully.

‘So many people died, Uncle…’ she said, her voice lowering. She could not get herself to finish the sentence.

A pause.

‘Were you scared?’

The question was so childish. Especially coming from a figure like her uncle. And yet—

‘I was,’ she admitted.

—it hauled her feelings out of the deepest depths of her belly.

‘There were multiple times I thought I would die. I thought I was ready. Ready to pay any price to save her.’

‘We’re never ready, my daughter.’

She scooped over again, eating the distance between them, and leaned in, hugging her uncle.

‘You’re not a sorcerer, Uncle,’ she said. ‘So who will find her if I die? Does she die with me? That’s my little sister.’ Her voice broke. ‘Taken somewhere. Cold and alone. Hopeless and in pain.’

Uncle had his eyes closed as he accepted her worries.

‘Her body is indeed lost,’ he said. ‘And she may be cold and alone. But not hopeless. Her spirit is alive. She’s a fighter, that girl. She won’t give up. Not until she’s tried everything.’

Silvah sobbed.

‘You say that to comfort me.’

Uncle shook his head.

‘Did she not hound you to return to your family? Even when you and your father did not see eye to eye for over a year.’

That was true. Gods. That day in Cafe Dallas seemed a lifetime ago.

‘She did the same to your father,’ Uncle said. ‘They fought over it.’

‘They fought?’ Silvah said, looking up. ‘She never told me that.’

‘I bet you she didn't. According to Narie, they almost came to blows twice. Yet your sister would not back down. Arthur never stood a chance.’

Uncle smiled.

‘Where do you think she got it from? Where do you think you got it from.’

The pungent scent of his cigarette entered her nostrils.

She’d always been more like her father than her mother. For better or worse. Stubborn and always ready to bash her head against a problem.

Then Uncle suddenly laughed as if he was remembering an old joke.

‘Did Arthur ever tell you of that time he charged blind into a Ryūjin-kai hideout all by himself to save you?’

‘To save me?’

‘To save you, yes. You were too young to remember. But right after you were born, a disguised Ryūjin-kai nurse handed you over to their gang. A ploy of theirs to get your father to betray me.’

‘Didn’t they have guns? How’d he survive?’

‘I don’t know. Knowing what I do now, I suspect he had access to some part of his arts. But I never asked. It wasn’t important to me.’

His eyes found hers.

‘They told him to give them the location of my hideouts—where we store our munitions and such. Otherwise, they would take your life. They sent a finger through his mail. Not yours. Obviously.’

Luckily, she still had all ten of her fingers. Guess not even the worst of the Ryūjin-kai were eager to chop the fingers of a baby.

‘So it would’ve been game over if they found them,’ she said, reading between the lines.

‘Undoubtedly,’ Uncle agreed. ‘You know what he told them?’

‘To fuck off?’

‘To fuck off.’

Silvah shook her head in defeat.

‘That’s so like him. Risking the life of his child for his loyalty.’

Uncle’s rough hands rubbed through her hair and Silvah squeezed her eyes, accepting the treatment meant for a child.

‘Had it been me captured,’ Uncle said, ‘his response would’ve been the same. That’s the type of man he was, Silvah. Wouldn’t sell out anyone he cared for for nothing. Not even his own family. But then he was also the man to charge into a stronghold of a dozen armed gangsters by himself to save his daughter.’

‘Moral of the story,’ Uncle said, ‘is that he would throw down his life without hesitation to protect you, your sister, and all his other loved ones.’

She sunk down into her thoughts, Ryu’s words coming back to her: Could you slit their throat in the night and convince yourself of being righteous? Kill after kill. Death after death. Mothers and children. It still sent a chill down her spine. The assurance in his tone. Her head pressed into her uncle’s side.

‘But what about the lives of others?’ she said weakly. ‘Of that many people…’

The beacon fired again, the instants ticking by as Uncle took his time to respond.

‘He would take no pleasure in it,’ Uncle finally responded. ‘But he would have done it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘More so by the moment. To save his little angels, I’m certain he would’ve willingly become the Devil.’

That comfortable quiet returned and Silvah relished in it until she sensed their time together was coming to an end.

Uncle stashed away his cigarette, not wanting to throw it on the ground and defile the campus, then he put both hands on her shoulder and turned to her, fully embracing her.

‘I cannot follow you where you’re going, my daughter. But I will always be on your side. No matter what happens. Your father would be, too.’

She was not too grown-up to say she bawled her eyes out.

Someone loudly blew their nose.

They both whipped towards the noise. Standing behind them in the dark with a box of tissues in his hand was Miles. The floor immediately surrounding him was strewn with used tissues.

‘Sorry! I just could not keep it in anymore.’

‘You—you were spying on us?!’ Silvah said, outraged. She made to quickly wipe her eyes. ‘Read the room!’

But then the man was next to them, arms spread wide.

‘Can I get a hug, too, please,’ he said.

Silvah looked to her uncle who was equally lost for words.

Miles wiggled his arms, opening one eye to glance at them.

She sighed and opened her arms, Uncle followed suit, and Silvah experienced one of the more awkward group hugs she had ever experienced. Well. Awkward for her. Miles was leaning into the moment, crying.

God, please let this journey for her sister not see her surrounded with more idiots.

 Opening for enlisting her as an investigator?