The Chronicles of Faylon: Saahira | Chapter 31 (Patreon)

‘Klar, dark. Potential intents: darken, blind, or cloud. Can be utilized on its own to pollute air or water, altering the living energies within. Quite effective when conjugated with a wind qalen’rua. e.g. Intending to ‘whisk away’ sight, then blinding the quarry with overwhelming darkness.’

Saahira copied the qalen’rua into her notes with its description, feeling the word out on her tongue. Nia slumbered soundly behind her, the soft snoring a pleasant ambiance to the early morning atmosphere. After Cyprus had walked Saahira back to the dormitories the night prior, she had found Nia already in bed. She’d tiptoed away to take a long bath, and then struggled to fall asleep once her head found her pillow.

Images of dancing with Cyprus swirled through her head and chest all through the night. The dizzy thrill of moving together so quickly, so closely. The warmth of his skin in her palms. The way he’d smiled at her.

Once the sun poked its head above their windowsill, she abandoned the thought of sleep and decided to study.

At least, she was trying to study.

She chewed on the feathered tip of her quill in a huff, realizing she’d written down Klar and its intents twice.

When she’d first gone through her books deciding what to read, she’d held The History of Faylon in her hands, ready to learn more of the geography of her world. But then the cover of her hexlations textbook peered up from her stack, reminding her that her ward still hung heavy around her wrist. She’d felt traces of that cold, iron grip around her lungs, and with a greedy hiss, she’d set The History of Faylon aside and reached for her hexlations book instead.

Understanding hexlations had taken a sudden and very urgent priority over any of the other arts. Professor Lodovico’s protective charm would only help her for so long, and she didn’t want to ask the choir for assistance. Not before she performed her summoning, if she could help it. A creeping part of her already worried at her current debt like a scab.

With a sigh, she moved to the next dark qalen’rua on the list.

‘Tene, dark. Potential intents: decay, age, fatigue. A hex most famously used on the Royal City of Hausgandr on the Floating Kingdom to speed the decay of scores of crops in order to spread panic. More oftentimes utilized in the application of hexes for mortals or beasts.’

As she scratched down the information, a stirring behind her drew her attention.

“Saahira? Are you so intent on avoiding additional sleep?” Nia grumbled from beneath the blankets.

“I’m an early riser.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. After quickly finishing the notes for the Tene qalen’rua, Saahira tidied her notes and closed the book. “Should I go study downstairs?”

“No, no. You did not wake me.” Nia yawned and stretched her arms above her head. “Poor dreams make for the worst bedmates. I— wait a moment,” she said as if coming to a sudden realization. “Are you all right?”

 Saahira furrowed her brow as Nia shot up to attention, pink hair a fluffy halo around her face. “I’m…fine?”

“You were hexed, were you not?” Concern and curiosity consumed any evidence of Nia’s lack of sleep.

Saahira’s heart sank. “You heard?”

“Everyone has heard. However, the exact details are muddled in the retellings, as they always are.” Nia touched her chin, onyx eyes rolling to the ceiling. “One version claimed that your eyes were hexed out of your head and they had to replace them.”

“Gods, no.” Saahira groaned.

Nia grinned. “Another said that Dimitri and Talia—”

“Hang on. Where did their names come from?”

Tilting her head to the side, Nia blinked. “They are who you believe hexed you, correct?”

No. No, no, no. Saahira propped her elbows onto her thighs and let her head fall into her hands. They weren’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know who she suspected outside of Cyprus and Melony, and neither of them would have shared.

Would they?

It didn’t seem at all likely that Cyprus had. They’d hardly spent more than a few hours apart between when she’d told him and when he next saw her. Maybe Melony was a little too excited in her wolf form and had told her new companions during their run. But that would have been later last night. Not enough time for everyone to know.

“Do you know who started these rumors?” Saahira asked through her palms.

“Of course I do. I require my information to come from the sources closest to the origin point. It is something of a specialty.” Nia beamed with pride and lifted a hand, ticking off fingers as she listed names. “Caerulea Perrin, Emlynen Block’s mentor, saw it happen. Chelsea Winters, one of the infirmary assistants, said you were hexed, and Elsi Korhonen, a second year from Lathyrus Block, heard you blame Dimitri and Talia.”

Relief that her trust hadn’t been broken washed over Saahira, followed by the burning shame of worrying that her closest friends would break it to begin with. She swallowed her shame with effort, focusing instead on puzzling over this Elsi Korhonen. Korhonen. When she repeated the surname in her head, she heard it in Matsutoya’s voice.

The chestnut-haired girl. They’d thought she was sleeping. “Was Elsi sick in the infirmary?”

“She was. From her own alchemy work, as I understood it.” Nia wrinkled her nose. “By the sun, she was adamant on telling anyone who would listen about you. While I can see the merit in such a delightful piece of information, there is a certain decorum that should be followed in sharing…”

It was as if Nia was speaking about someone who wasn’t in the room with them and not the girl sitting right in front of her. Saahira lifted her head and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins. Her head throbbed, and her stomach ached. “Nia, Miss Matsutoya told me that Dimitri’s and Talia’s families will have me expelled if they find out.”

Nia sputtered a laugh. “Oh, sweet girl. If this were a claim made by a professor, perhaps. Or if Mr. Vivenzio or Miss Matsutoya informed them directly. The nobility do not have time for student rumors. They hardly have time to listen to their own children.” Her laugh faded and her lips thinned. “I cannot say that all of our peers have taken lightly to the accusation. However, from what I was able to glean, no one on staff will be writing to either Dimitri’s or Talia’s parents.”

“You were able to uncover all of this since yesterday morning?” Saahira asked, partly impressed, partly terrified.

“As I said. Information is something of a specialty.” Nia threw back the blanket and crossed to her trunk, retrieving her hairbrush and ties. “You are my friend, and as you were away with your prince, I could not simply ask you what had transpired.”

“M-My—” Saahira stammered.

“Now that you are here, however, you can fill the gaps in my findings,” Nia said over Saahira’s attempts to interject. She hopped on Saahira’s bed and patted the open space beside her. “Come. Sit. Weave me a story while I fix both of our hair.”

The version of Saahira’s hexing that she presented to Nia was far more truncated than the first three times she’d told it. Matsutoya’s infirmary was summarized in a few short sentences, and her discussion with Professor Lodovico and Lillith in fewer. The debt to the choir wasn’t something she wanted to trouble Nia with, and the upcoming meeting with Lillith only came up since it would interrupt their day together.

“A demon? Hm.” Nia had finished her own braid and moved on to Saahira’s hair, brushing away the tangles from going to bed with it wet. “Not one controlled by Dimitri or Talia, certainly?”

“Not that the professors believe. Though it creates more questions.” Saahira sighed. “We’ll see what Lillith says tonight.”

“You will tell me, yes? What she says?”

“Of course I’ll tell you. Better to hear it from me than think my eyes fell out of my skull.”

“Excellent.” After separating the black tendrils of Saahira’s hair into multiple sections, Nia patted her on the head. “Now that one tale is resolved, you will tell me about all of your firsts yesterday.”

Saahira squirmed as a renewed thrill bubbled in her stomach. “Have you ever been to Endolwyn, Nia?”

“I have not! There is much of Chivari I still need to see. Give me every detail.”

“A-Ah… Well…” This retelling came with heated cheeks and a speeding heart. Saahira toyed with her nightgown, worried at her sheets, and laughed nervously when she reached the tower of Lord Ludus. Nia’s excitement with so many firsts was contagious, enough to bring Saahira to admit that she’d never danced with someone outside of her family before.

“Not once?” Nia asked, struck with shock, as she tied off Saahira’s braid.

“No. Not once.” She closed her eyes and the distant notes of a violin reverberated in her ears. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“I am certain that you will have many more chances.”

Saahira nodded. “I hope so.” Opening her eyes, she spun herself until she faced Nia, clutching her pillow to her chest. “I’m really glad you’re still here, Nia.”

“Hm? Is there some reason I should not be?”

“Well, after— after what happened in necromancy. I just— I wasn’t sure…”

“Ah.” Nia looked down at her hands in her lap with a frown. “Unfortunately, that is a class we will not share any longer. I will utilize that time in my schedule for studying the other arts. But I would not be my mother’s daughter if I allowed such an inconsequential interaction to influence my destiny.”

Her destiny again. Saahira chewed the inside of her cheek and thought about what Professor Lawrence had said. A kingdom absorbed with the help of necromancy. Even before they’d touched the wriggling fingers, something about the professor’s words had found its way under Nia’s skin. But she wasn’t explaining further, and Saahira didn’t think it her place to ask.

Wanting to bring the joy back to Nia’s expression, Saahira smiled and gently changed the subject. “Well, an extra hour to study is good. Especially if you have to write more surprise papers for alchemy.”

To Saahira’s relief, Nia laughed. “If only I shared my room with someone who warned me of impending assignments.”

“Maybe next year.” Saahira giggled. Her stomach growled in reply. She furrowed her brow and grimaced.

“Have you eaten anything since you woke?” Nia asked.

“Not yet.” With a shake of her head, Saahira stood and moved to her trunk to find a dress. “Oh, um, Nia, where should I go to wash my clothes? Are there tubs around? Or a spring?”

Nia studied her with amusement. “No. However, I think you will prefer the way it is done here.”

Saahira collected her clothing from her trunk at Nia’s instruction and followed her out into the hallway. Along the wall near the stairway were six baskets made of a thin black metal with curved edges. Each one was marked with a golden number from seven to fourteen, and could hold little more than two loaves of bread.

“Simply place your dresses in the basket with our room number.” Nia pointed to the basket with the number nine.

Leaning forward, Saahira eyed the basket with more than a little skepticism. Her wardrobe paled in comparison to Nia’s, and what she held in her arms couldn’t possibly fit in such a small container. A quick glance at the other numbered baskets in the row revealed that they were all empty. Surely she couldn’t be the only one who needed to wash her clothing—

“I know what you’re thinking. Just try it,” Nia urged.

Saahira frowned, but kept her doubts to herself as she bent forward and carefully eased her clothing into the basket. The fabric tumbled inside and vanished, as if the bottom of the basket didn’t exist.

“Are these enchanted?” Saahira asked as the sleeve of her cornflower dress disappeared from her hands.

“Naturally.”

“Where did it all go?” After she finished pooling her dresses inside the curious infinity, she slid her fingers along the bottom, the metal cool to the touch, her clothing nowhere to be found.

“Into this basket’s twin in the servant’s quarters. There they will mend, clean, press, fold, and return our clothing to our trunks by tomorrow afternoon.”

Saahira blinked. She’d washed her own clothing since she was just a couple of years older than Isa. To think she’d never need to do so anymore… “Wait, mend?”

“Mhm. Some of your dresses may return in better condition than you deposited them in.” Nia smiled. “Do not fear, they will not harm your lovely cloak.”

That hadn’t been a concern before, but now that Nia had put it in her mind, it was difficult to ignore.

“Really, they will be fine.” Nia giggled and laid a hand on Saahira’s shoulder. “Let us eat.”

Saahira followed Nia down the stairs and outside to the courtyard. A handful of students lounged in the grass, reclining on blankets with open books and myriad snacks.

“Are we eating at the sanctum?” Saahira asked.

“Of course not. Especially when we have an opportunity to obtain another first for you.” Nia waved to one of the students as they passed by. “Have you had a Vrida breakfast?”

“No. What’s that?”

They crossed the bridge and a pair of girls in short, fashionable dresses greeted Nia before she could answer. It really felt like she knew everyone. Once they were gone, she continued. “Are you familiar with the Vrida Plague?”

“My mother mentioned it once when she showed me how to brew a particular tonic that kills witherworms.” Saahira shivered with the thought. Tiny worms that took residence in a patient’s stomach, eating the digested food first, then the flesh second.

“That would stand to reason, as witherworms were the source of the plague,” Nia replied.

“It happened over a hundred years ago, didn’t it?”

“Correct. But this tradition remains. You see, the Vrida breakfast’s namesake is quite grim. One would eat a large, rich breakfast consisting of seeds, fruits, and sugars in the hopes of sating the witherworms until a cure was found. It was only given to those on the brink of death, as Vrida’s food supplies were scarce due to the number of infected. For many, it was their last meal.” Despite the macabre nature of the story, Nia’s eyes sparkled as she told it. Gaining and sharing new information always seemed to delight her.

“And…places still serve this meal?”

“Oh, yes. It is very famous in Vrida and the surrounding cities. The Final Bar serves it so long as you attend early enough.” Nia touched Saahira’s wrist, where the hex ward lay flat against Saahira’s skin. “Since you had such a recent brush with death, I find it fitting.”

At least five more students took the time to say hello to Nia as they made their way to the Final Bar. Saahira only recognized Alexis, though she awkwardly waited in silence while Nia held a quick conversation.

“Do you know the whole school?” Saahira asked after Alexis had excused herself.

“Almost. Connections are an integral part of social standing.” Nia lifted her chin, pride glowing on her high cheekbones. “Besides, how else can I seek the heart of the most titillating rumors in the sanctum?”

Once inside the restaurant, they found tables far less crowded than their first time together. They were guided to their seats near the hearth, where Saahira spotted a small statue of Ludus and Agaline dancing to an unheard song. Saahira’s thumb traced a line in the air, mimicking the shape of Cyprus’s collarbone. Averting her gaze, her cheeks heated as she quickly took her seat.

Nia ordered Vrida breakfasts for them both, and the number of plates that arrived at their table was staggering. Two full plates filled with fresh slices of fruit, thick hotcakes drizzled in honey, a muffin filled with small black seeds, eggs, bacon, and two bowls of roasted pumpkin seeds.

“I don’t know if I can eat all of this,” Saahira said. Her rumbling stomach disagreed.

“Do your best,” Nia replied, amused. “Remember, this meal is far easier to consume if you are feeding a witherworm.”

By the end of it, Saahira wished that she did have a witherworm. Never in her life had she eaten so much food in one sitting. Another first for Nia to claim ownership over.

“It’s no wonder Vrida ran low on food,” Saahira murmured.

Nia laughed. “As I said, they reserved this meal for those already dancing with eternity.” She stretched her arms over her head and favored her empty plates. Somehow, she’d tucked away every last morsel into her thin frame. “It is time for another first.”

“Actually, I had a suggestion,” Saahira replied.

“Oh?”

“Why don’t we study together? I can help you finish your alchemy essay, and we can catch up on the rest of our homework in the library.”

Nia stuck her tongue between her lips. “But that’s no fun at all.”

“It would be my first time studying on my day off in the sanctum,” Saahira pressed. She didn’t want to fall even further behind her peers in her studies. From the moment she’d set foot on the sanctum grounds, they were all already so far ahead.

“That is quite a contrived first.” Crossing her arms, Nia knit her brows and looked at the hearth.

“Maybe. But we have the whole year for more firsts.”

“Unless your prince beats me to them,” Nia grumbled.

Twice she’d asked Nia not to refer to him like that, but it seemed she was intent on the moniker. “Please, Nia? This will let us both catch up.”

Nia’s shoulders deflated with her sigh. “Fine. As you wish. We shall study.”

Saahira grinned. “Thank you, Nia.”

Somehow, Nia remained uninhibited despite her enormous breakfast, walking with the grace of a princess while Saahira staggered out of the Final Bar. They returned to the Idrian Block to fetch their books, and then made their way to the library.

Basile was nowhere to be found, which helped Saahira’s focus tremendously. She and Nia enjoyed the afternoon—perhaps ‘enjoyed’ was a bit strong for Nia—deep in their books in the nearly-empty library, exchanging pieces of newfound information and quips about the authors.

However, as the sun marched its way across the library windows overhead, Saahira’s anxiousness grew.

She was due to meet Lillith.