The Chronicles of Faylon: Saahira | Chapter 25 (Patreon)

They left the dining hall just as the first warning bell rang. Saahira’s classes were finished for the day, but Melony and Cyprus still had one more.

Melony jumped, skipping all of the steps leading down from the hall and landing at their base. She spun on her heel and grinned up at them. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

Saahira and Cyprus exchanged confused glances.

“Oh, come on. We have to have a plan. My run’s not until tomorrow, and we can actually relax tonight! Eat lots of food, stay out late—”

“Curfew’s still at ten,” Cyprus corrected. He glided down the stairs while Saahira followed. Had her footsteps always been so loud?

Melony wrinkled her nose. “Then we can get back at nine fifty-nine instead of seven.” She grabbed Saahira’s sleeve and tugged on it. “Saahira, tell the king we need a plan!”

Saahira looked at the bemused Cyprus for help. When he didn’t say anything, she sided with Melony. “I guess we need a plan, then.” Though part of her wondered if she should spend the night comforting Nia. Then again, that assumed that Nia would be in her dorm when she returned and that she even wanted comforting to begin with.

“Alright. Why don’t we meet at The Last Gasp in three hours?” Cyprus suggested. He eyed Melony. “Can you cover your own dinner?”

Melony’s tongue poked between her lips. “Of course I can, king. In fact, I can pay for Saahira’s, too!”

Saahira blushed. “Y-you don’t have to—”

The second warning bell rang.

“Okay! See you both in three hours!” Melony said, her effervescent tone bouncing with her shoulders. She turned and trotted off to class.

“It’s alright to let your friends help you,” Cyprus said softly. “Your company is worth it.”

Saahira shifted her weight from one foot to the other, avoiding Cyprus’s gaze. She’d felt like more of a thorn in Cyprus’s side the past two days rather than a friend worthy of treating to dinner, but she couldn’t bring herself to say so. “Thank you,” she replied instead.

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.”

Cyprus left her standing at the base of the dining hall’s steps, staring up at the sky. Three hours. That would be plenty of time to check in on Nia and see how she was faring. It also gave her a chance to pick up a book on Faylon’s geography from the library. While there seemed to be an infinite amount of information to learn about Faylon’s sky and the other planets, she was still painfully ignorant in the ways of her own world.

It was a quick walk to the library from the dining hall, but everything around her moved to a standstill with the final warning bell, leaving only the sounds of the distant fountain and birds chirping high in the trees.

The library, to her mild surprise, was just as empty as the courtyard. Celebrations start early, I guess. Not that she was much better, having just made plans with Melony and Cyprus. As much as her homework itched to be completed early, she couldn’t help but feel like she should be outside enjoying the fresh air with everyone else.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she followed the center path between bookshelves to the large, round desk at the center. Basile’s outline leaned over a book on the right side of the desk, his face hidden in the shadow of the bookshelves. He had one elbow propped up beside the cover, his temple resting against his fist, and strands of his ice blue hair brushed the skin just beneath his eyebrows. The left wing in his hair twitched toward Saahira’s steps as she approached, and he looked up.

“Saahira,” he said with a heart-stopping smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Everything about him made her heart flutter. His gentle voice, the way he said her name, the taut muscles of his forearms as he closed his book. She swallowed the heat rising to her face and poked at one of the quills resting on the desk.

Come on, tongue. Don’t betray me. “H-hi Basile,” she stammered. …Great. Thanks.

He reached forward and touched the feather on the quill she toyed with. “May I offer you a few more quills?” he teased lightly.

 “N-no! I’m fine!” Better still if she could get her thoughts under control. This was only the second time they’d talked. So why did he make her feel like this? “I, um, was hoping to borrow a book about Faylon’s geography.”

“Oh? Anywhere in particular that you’re interested in?” Basile stood and made his way past the little swinging door on the desk.

“…All of it?” She wasn’t sure what the correct answer was, but she didn’t like how unsure she sounded. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I want to know more about all of it.”

Basile chuckled. “I have just the thing. This way.”

Saahira followed close behind, catching light, floral whiffs when the wings on his hips stretched. She wondered if the men’s dormitories had scented oils in their baths like the women’s did. Which led her to imagine Basile in the bath. Her eyes widened, and she bit her tongue, shifting her attention from his back to the heels of his boots.

“History and geography,” Basile announced as he strolled between two towering shelves. “This collection is predominantly owned by Mr. Hirokazu, so I would recommend the utmost care with each book.” He trailed his delicate fingers over the leather spines, occasionally pulling one free to check its first few pages before reshelving. “A second-year spilled ale on a copy of The Royalty of Réimse na Sleachta last year, and Mr. Hirokazu made him replace it and then rewrite the book in its entirety. Twice.”

Saahira winced. “What did he do with the rewritten copies?”

“One of them is framed in his office.” Basile moved his hand down to the second shelf. “I’m uncertain about the second copy.” He tugged another book free, and his eyes lit with recognition. “Here we are. A Brief History of Faylon.” After flipping through its pages, he gently pressed the spine flat once he landed on a two-page drawing and showed it to Saahira.

It was a beautifully detailed map with each continent, country, island, mountain range, and body of water accounted for in Faylon. Intricate designs inked each one of the corners that framed the pages.

“This book is a fantastic overview of the events that shaped our world into what it is today. Wars, treaties, explorers, technology, and, of course, magic.” He flipped the page to a second drawing, this one similar to the diagram that Lillith had drawn the day before: the Mortal and Spiritual Planes and the Wall. Here, there were flowers she didn’t recognize drawn into the corners. “While it doesn’t discuss as much about the Planes as you’ll learn in demonology, it still includes a high-level overview.”

“No, that’s great. It’s not the Wall that I need to know more about right now.” The words came before she could stop them. Basile looked at her curiously. Now I sound like an idiot. “I-I— Because I…” With the book still in his hands, she flipped the page back to the map. Once she’d found Odalric, she put her finger to it and traced a little to the east. Her shoulders slumped, and a dry laugh peppered her breath. “The village I’m from isn’t even on here.”

“Books are a luxury everywhere,” Basile said quietly. “That you’re here searching out the unfamiliar speaks to your intelligence, Saahira. Your upbringing is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Saahira withdrew her hand, still searching for the tiny dot of Almaryn that would help validate her existence. Maybe this map was too small. The one she’d grown up with was of Chivari alone, with all of its villages, towns, and cities accounted for. “There are a lot of people here who disagree with you.”

“I hope you pay them no heed. They aren’t worth your attention.” Basile’s tone was still kind, but took on a matter-of-fact edge that matched his knowing smile. He closed the book and held it forward. “You still have one more book available to take with you, I believe. Was there anything else you were interested in?”

Saahira accepted the book, then opened her mouth and prepared to ask if there were any texts on channeling her energy. But if there were, wouldn’t Gallowood have suggested them? After a moment, another idea struck her. She hesitated. Would Basile find it silly?

“Anything at all,” Basile pressed lightly.

“I really love fairy tales,” Saahira forced the words from her lips. Hearing them out loud made her feel silly. She searched his face, afraid of what she’d find with her admission.

“I do as well.” Basile’s features brightened, and his wings fluttered. So did Saahira’s heart. He tipped his head toward the desk and gestured for her to follow. “You can borrow a book from my collection.”

She held the history book tightly to her chest as they returned to the center of the library. Basile passed through the little door of the desk, then bent down beneath it and procured a large satchel. As he rummaged through it, Saahira was taken aback by just how many books were packed inside—she counted at least nine that he piled beside the satchel. Maybe she should have expected it from the librarian’s assistant.

“I just finished this one this morning.” Basile withdrew a small book with a red cover about the length of Saahira’s hand. He passed it across to her, and she traced the black tooling in the corners of the leather binding. “It’s an old Nagatoshi tale translated into Chivarian. I won’t tell you more, as I don’t wish to spoil it for you.”

“Are you sure I can borrow this?” Saahira asked. The cover was so intricate, and the binding looked so well-taken care of.

“I’m sure. I trust you.” Basile smiled as he paged through the huge ledger of student names to an empty line. “Saahira Montarac, correct?”

Despite all of the students in the school, he remembered her full name. She suppressed her joy. “Yes. Idrian Block.”

“I’m adding A Brief History of Faylon, but not the book I loaned you. If there’s anything else you need from the library, you still have one book remaining that you can check out.”

“Oh! That’s really kind of you. Thank you.” Saahira tucked her hair behind her ear, hoping her braid still looked as tidy as it had that morning. She slid both books carefully into her satchel, then rested her hand on the desk.

Despite his excitement about her elemental affinities during their first meeting, he hadn’t asked anything about them yet. She wondered if he was still interested. “I suppose I should tell you what happened this week,” she said.

“Hm?” Basile finished writing and looked up, his expression very interested.

She traced weaving patterns into the wood with her pointer finger, avoiding his gaze. “I made a glintsphere explode in spellcraft.”

“What? How?”

Saahira tilted her head to the side. “Apparently, I poured too much energy inside of it at once.”

A beat of silence passed between them. “I’m not sure I could do that,” Basile said. “Glintspheres are crafted to hold an immense amount of energy before bursting. Was yours perhaps faulty?”

“I don’t know. Professor Gallowood didn’t seem to think so.”

“Did you try to weave one of the elements into your energy?”

“No. We haven’t practiced that yet.” Saahira looked up to find him listening with rapt attention. “I can hardly control my own energy as it stands. The professor gave me a glintsphere to practice with, but I still can’t seem to call on and focus my energy into things like I’m supposed to.”

“Hm. Has anything in particular been distracting you? Noises? Thoughts? Other people?”

“I’ve tried to practice without others around, and I do my best to relax.” Saahira couldn’t hold his gaze for long. It was intense and penetrative, like he’d see right through to her secrets. “I was only…sort of…successful one other time with the choir’s help.” She caught his confusion from the corner of her eye. Oh. I didn’t tell him that part. “Right. The, um, the choir. Lillith calls them the Six.”

“The Six? You hear each class of demon?” Basile’s wings rippled and flickered. Saahira nodded. “That is fascinating. Perhaps that correlates to your elemental affinities.”

The thought did occur to her due to their respective numbers, but the choir hadn’t confirmed it, and Lillith hadn’t suggested as much. “It might. I’m not sure.” There was so much she still didn’t know. It’s only been a week, she reminded herself. But that didn’t help her answer Basile’s questions right now.

“How did they help you?” Basile asked.

Saahira chewed her lip. At least she was already blushing. “They kind of talked me through it.” It was a half-truth, but it was the only one she could muster.

Basile’s expression calmed, and he touched her hand. “Is it tolerable? Listening to so many voices?”

Saahira gasped and withdrew her hand from his, clutching both to her chest. Why? Why did I do that? Of all the touches she’d experienced that week, why was this one the one to make her flinch?

The look on his face was impossible to read. Instead, she stared down at her shoes, wishing her hair were loose so that she could hide behind it. There was no masking the deep shades of red coating her cheeks. “I’m kind of used to it by now,” she managed in a thin voice.

“I see,” Basile said. Was that hurt in his voice? Of course it was, why wouldn’t it be? He’d been nothing but kind to her, had lent her his own book from his personal collection, taken an interest in her life at the sanctum, and she’d torn herself away at his touch as if he’d pricked her with a needle.

Saahira summoned every ounce of courage she could muster, and then she reached down and laid her hand over his. She waited for him to pull away—she would deserve it—but he didn’t. Her fingertips rested steadily on top of his wrist, and her pulse thrummed in her ears. His skin was so cool and smooth, like fresh grass covered in morning dew.

“The choir doesn’t distract me as much now that I’m in the sanctum,” she said, still struggling to meet his gaze. “And…I’m happy to have friends who understand me.”

Basile’s wings lifted a few inches as he studied their hands. “A wise elf once said, ‘Your dearest allies will lay down their judgments to know you.’” He smiled. “I look forward to knowing more about you, Saahira.”

Saahira nodded, her fingers numb. Excitement and fear pinned her to the spot. A hundred thoughts, images, and doubts raced through her mind, and she hoped that he couldn’t hear how rushed her breathing had become.

“Is there no one here who can help me?” an irritated voice called from a faraway bookshelf.

This time, Basile yanked his hand back just as she did. Pink touched his face, and he smiled apologetically. “I will be right there,” he called to the other student. To Saahira, he softened his voice to ask, “What are your plans on Kalyna?”

That was their final day off before classes resumed. “Homework, I think,” Saahira replied.

“Would I be allowed to interrupt you for dinner? You could tell me more about the Six and your family.”

“That would be great.” Saahira nodded, averting her gaze. “Um, five o’clock?”

“Excellent. I will meet you outside of your building at five, then.”

A young woman whose cheeks burned as red as her dress stormed to the center and slammed a hand on the desk.

“If you are quite finished, I have an assignment due tomorrow, and you are both wasting my time.” She turned her furious stare on Saahira, and her eyes flicked from Saahira’s head to her feet. Diamonds dangled from her long, slender ears, matching the teardrop pendant around her throat. She clicked her tongue and furrowed her brow. “And for what? What is a commoner doing in the sanctum?”

“Raenissa, if I am not mistaken?” Basile said. His tone was still gentle, though his words sounded more pointed. “You are not the only student who requires my assistance—”

Raenissa scoffed. “This girl? A student? Do you take me for a fool?”

Saahira readjusted her satchel and turned away. “Thank you, Basile,” she murmured.

“Have a pleasant day, Saahira,” Basile called. “Miss Salvatore, what is it that you seek?”

So he remembered Raenissa’s last name, too. Does he remember everyone’s names? Saahira’s shoulders slumped as she hurried out of the library.

Behind her, more words were hastily exchanged until Raenissa shouted, “Do you know who my father is?”

The door closed, and Saahira sucked in a deep breath. While most of her class had accepted her presence—outside of Talia, Dimitri, and Kaylee, of course—it seemed the rest of the student body could still pose a problem.

A clock that hung on the library building showed that a little over thirty minutes had passed. It was still plenty of time to head back to the dormitory before she met with Cyprus and Melony. And now, at least, she couldn’t see any more students wandering the courtyard.

Odalric was lively, but thankfully not swarming. The merchants at their stalls called out to Saahira in good humor as she passed, and she waved them off with a smile. None of them judged her for her clothing or appearance. They didn’t look down at her like a tick on a dog. She felt a deeper kinship with them than the majority of her peers, and a part of her envied the simplicity of their days.

However, beyond the dizzying amount of information heaped onto her in her first week of classes, her new routine had begun to settle beneath her skin, calling her back each day for more. A flicker of candlelight that fanned into a brilliant flame with each new thread of knowledge. It didn’t matter how many students like Raenissa there were, so long as she kept going.

And then there was the library. She would have confronted a hundred reanimated fingers if it meant she could spend as much time as she wished in that library. There was so much to learn, and she had free access to all of it. A spring carried her steps as she patted her satchel, two new books awaiting her.

When Saahira reached the dormitories, she found at least two dozen students relaxing on the lawns. The benches around the grass were all full, while more students sprawled out on blankets together, picking at food from shared baskets. A handful leaned against the thick tree trunks, reading or scrawling in books.

It was a beautiful day to be outside; the autumn weather was still mild, and not a single cloud hung in the sky. She paused and stared up at the expanse of blue, then inhaled a deep breath.

Pain engulfed her chest and throat as the air was wrenched from her lungs.

What…?

Saahira clutched her chest and fought for another breath. It didn’t come. Her pulse surged as panic took hold, and she searched the grounds. She spotted Talia and Dimitri sitting on one of the benches, watching her with interest.

A dangerous smile twisted Dimitri’s lips. Anger bloomed over her pain.

The world began to spin, and tears collected in the corners of her eyes. She felt like a fish gasping for air. A low throb drummed in her head, demanding that she breathe. And still, she couldn’t. She took a stumbling step forward and fought to stay standing.

I need help! Please! she begged the choir.

Silence. She blinked, and the tears fell down her cheeks. Why weren’t they answering?

Her mind raced. Dimitri or Talia had casted something. Spellcraft? Talia did insist that she could command the wind. Was she commanding it away?

Saahira fell to her knees. Her satchel spilled beside her. The world was starting to spin. Two students nearby on a blanket took notice.

“Hey, are you alright?” one called.

Saahira shook her head. She didn’t have the breath to speak. She slumped to her hands, her elbows quivering beneath the weight. What had they done?

They took my breath away.

Just as she’d taken Leon’s sight. A hex. They took my wind.

They’d only practiced two wind qalen’rua thus far. There was a high chance that this hex invoked another one for the long list Professor Lodovico had wanted them to study. But if she didn’t try what she knew, she was going to suffocate.

Saahira parted her lips and wheezed, “Xenesthis tor’vyn.”

Nothing happened.

“Xenesthis siro tor’vyn,” she added the second wind qalen’rua, focusing on the way her tongue struck her teeth and the roof of her mouth while fire gripped her chest. She was crushing her lungs for the words. It was like balancing on the edge of a blade.

Still nothing.

The student who had called out to Saahira crouched beside her and patted her on the back. “Are you choking?” she asked.

Of course she wouldn’t think it was a hex. Hexes were punishable by expulsion. No student in their right mind would do this.

Unfortunately, Dimitri and Talia never seemed to care.

Saahira shook her head, but it likely wasn’t noticeable. Her head and limbs felt impossibly heavy, and she wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground and fall asleep. She rested her forehead against the back of her hands.

“Caerulea! This girl needs help!” the student shouted. The words were barely audible above the ringing in Saahira’s ears.  

-Zyr,- the choir murmured.

Zyr?

-Yes. Xenesthis zyr,- they repeated slowly.

“Xenesthis zyr tor’vyn,” Saahira forced the last of her air at the cobblestone with the final drops of her consciousness. She couldn’t hear the students on the grass anymore. She prayed that her tongue and lips had formed the words adequately. Seconds passed by in eternities.

Air flooded her lungs. Saahira squeezed her eyes closed, gasping and coughing between greedy breaths. Hands grasped her shoulders and carefully pulled her upward until she sat back on her knees.

“What happened?” Caerulea asked.

“H-hexed,” Saahira stammered between breaths. “I was hexed.”

Saahira blinked away the tears, and the darkness faded from her vision. She scanned the lawn, searching for the bench that Talia and Dimitri had occupied just moments before.

The small smile on Talia’s face promised far worse.