Chapter 317: The Artifact, Part Thirteen
Melisa tapped her quill against the parchment, adding another name to her list.
The paper was headed "People to 'Accidentally' Touch" with quotation marks aggressively emphasized through multiple underlines.
So far, the list included:
Professor Ellington (probably knows something about the Memory Snare's history)
Ms. Milly (definitely hiding something more)
That smug guard who always gives me extra trouble at the academy gate
She hesitated, then scribbled a fourth name:
Queen Aria again? (if opportunity presents itself)
[Not likely,] she thought with a snort. [She's probably not going to invite me back to the palace for a little while. And, when would I ever casually bump into the queen of Syux?]
Melisa tucked the list into her pocket, satisfied with her plan.
She had thought about what she'd talked about with Javir and, to be honest...
... If Javir thought they should just deactivate the Memory Snare without using it to their advantage first, she was out of her mind! It was practically begging to be used for some good old-fashioned information gathering!
"Magic wand-wielding nim by day, secret memory thief by night," Melisa muttered to herself. "I'm practically a superhero."
She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out, nearly colliding with Margaret in the hallway.
"Whoa there!" Margaret almost tried to steady her, nearly touching her shoulders. "Someone's in a hurry."
"Sorry, Mom. Just trying to get to the academy early. Big test in, uh, Theoretical Magic today."
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
"Really? Because I distinctly remember you complaining last night about how you had a free morning because the professor canceled class."
[Busted.]
"Oh, uh, right, that was yesterday I was thinking about," Melisa fumbled. "Today is... a special study session. With Jaylin. For our project."
"Mmhmm." Margaret's expression made it clear she wasn't buying it, but (thankfully) she let it slide. "Well, since you're so eager to get to your 'study session,' you can take Hazel with you."
"What?"
"She's been begging to go back ever since yesterday," Margaret said with a sigh. "Loved it, apparently. Especially her chat with Isabella."
"But—"
"No buts," Margaret shook her head, smiling. "She's already dressed and waiting by the door. Though, please, keep a better eye on her this time. It's a bit early for her to be coming home asking me about 'the tongue thing'."
Melisa's face heated.
"Izzy..."
"I'm sure it was," Margaret said dryly, giggling. "Just try to make sure my youngest isn't getting advanced lessons in nim seduction techniques, alright?"
"Fine," Melisa grumbled. "But this totally messes up my plans."
"What plans?" Margaret asked innocently.
"N-Nothing! Just, uh... you know, studying. With Jaylin. Like I said."
Margaret's eyes narrowed, but before she could press further, Hazel came bounding down the hallway, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Are we going? Are we going now? Can we see the big library again? Can I practice spells? Isabella said she'd show me how to make a light ball!"
"Yes, we're going," Melisa sighed, resigning herself to a chaperoning duty. "But no unsupervised time with Isabella, got it?"
"Got it!" Hazel nodded enthusiastically, already heading for the door. "Let's go!"
As they left the house, Melisa glanced back to see Margaret watching them, smirking.
[She knows I'm up to something,] Melisa thought. [Of course she does.]
The walk to the academy was filled with Hazel's endless questions and observations. By the time they reached the gates, Melisa had explained the difference between Light Magic and Life Magic three times, confirmed that yes, nim could theoretically date dragons, and listened to an impressively detailed recounting of a dream involving flying pigs and talking mushrooms.
"—and then the mushroom king said I was the chosen one, but I told him I was already busy being a nim, so he should probably pick someone else—"
"Hold that thought," Melisa interrupted, noticing an unusual commotion at the academy entrance. A small crowd had gathered, and guards in royal colors stood at attention, forming a pathway.
"What's happening?" Hazel asked, standing on tiptoes to see better.
"I don't know, but—"
The crowd parted slightly, and Melisa caught a glimpse of a petite figure with distinctive white hair.
"Holy shit," she whispered. "That's Aria."
"Language!" Hazel hissed, mimicking Margaret's scolding tone perfectly.
"Sorry, but... why is the queen here? She rarely leaves the palace these days."
Melisa edged closer, keeping a firm grip on Hazel's hand. As they neared the gathering, she overheard snippets of conversation:
"—annual inspection—"
"—tradition started by her father—"
"—unannounced, of course, to catch any improprieties—"
The crowd shifted again, and suddenly Melisa found herself much closer to the royal entourage than she'd intended. Queen Aria stood just a few feet away, listening attentively as Headmistress Eliana explained something about recent curriculum changes.
Aria looked... different, somehow. Tired, mainly, with subtle shadows beneath her eyes, but there was something else. A sort of hardness that hadn't been there before. The weight of the crown, perhaps, or the burden of the decisions she'd had to make recently.
[Like whether to execute nim rebels,] Melisa thought grimly.
As if quite literally sensing her presence, Aria's gaze swept over the crowd and landed directly on Melisa.
Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by something that might have been irritation or possibly amusement.
"Miss Blackflame," she said, her voice carrying easily despite its softness. "What a surprise."
The crowd around them quieted, all eyes turning toward Melisa, who suddenly felt extremely conspicuous with her horns and tail.
"Your Majesty," she managed, dropping into a hasty curtsy and pulling Hazel down with her, ignoring the memory she then had to view of Hazel practicing magic in the garden. "An honor, as always."
"Indeed." Aria's lips twitched. "I trust your studies are progressing well?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Very well."
"Excellent. And who is this young lady?" Aria nodded toward Hazel, who was staring open-mouthed at the queen.
"My sister, Hazel, Your Majesty. She's visiting the academy today."
Aria stepped closer, and Melisa caught a whiff of her signature jasmine perfume.
"Hello, Hazel. Are you enjoying your visit?"
Hazel nodded vigorously, seemingly incapable of speech for once.
Aria smiled, a genuine expression that softened her features.
"Perhaps you'll attend the academy yourself one day."
Then, as she turned to continue her conversation with the Headmistress, her hand suddenly brushed against Melisa's arm.
The world tilted.
Aria stood in her royal chambers, a stack of execution orders on her desk. Her face was drawn with exhaustion as she picked up a document and read the name aloud.
"Koros Moonshade." She set it aside, reaching for another. "Execution approved. I will decide the day once I've revisited the evidence later."
Next name.
"Verin Darkthorn." Her hand hesitated, then placed it on a different pile. "Commuted to life imprisonment."
Another.
"Vira Moonshade." This one gave her pause, her fingers tracing the name. "Insufficient evidence. Release pending."
Lord Caelum, standing nearby, cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty, the court expects examples to be made. Leniency toward the Moonshade woman could be... misinterpreted."
Aria's eyes flashed.
"The court can expect justice, Lord Caelum. Not blind vengeance. I will not execute someone without evidence of direct involvement in violence."
"But her brother—"
"Is not her," Aria cut him off. "I've made my decision."
Caelum bowed stiffly.
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Though I feel compelled to remind you that your mother would have—"
"I am not my mother," Aria said, her voice deadly quiet. "And I thank the gods for that every day."
Reality snapped back into focus, and Melisa found herself still standing before the queen, only a second having passed.
[... Shit.]
"Do enjoy your day, Miss Blackflame," Aria said smoothly, already turning away.
Melisa paused, thinking about what she just saw.
In the end, it seemed Koros's execution was going to happen. Melisa could hardly be sad about that, Koros was an actual murderer. He deserved it, plain and simple. But...
[Vira,] Melisa thought, sighing. [Damn.]
As the queen moved on, surrounded by her entourage, Hazel tugged at Melisa's hand.
"Sis? You okay? You went all weird for a second."
"I'm fine," Melisa assured her. "Just... surprised to see the queen, that's all."
"Yeah, that was the QUEEN!" Hazel squealed, finally finding her voice now that they were out of earshot. "She knows your name! She talked to me!"
"Yeah," Melisa said absently, still processing what she'd witnessed. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"The coolest! Can we go see the library now? I want to check out that book about Elemental Magic!"
Melisa nodded, allowing herself to be pulled along by her enthusiastic sister while her thoughts remained on Aria's memory.
On the bright side, if the queen was showing lenience toward the nim rebels—or at least toward Vira—perhaps there was hope for real change in Syux.
After dropping Hazel off at the library (with firm instructions to stay put this time), Melisa headed to her Elemental Theory class. She was already late, but the professor was usually forgiving.
She slipped into the classroom, muttering a quick apology, and took her seat beside Isabella, who immediately passed her a note.
"Where have you been?" it read in Isabella's looping handwriting. "You missed Armia wearing her tight practice clothes before she changed for class. Her ass looked DIVINE."
Melisa rolled her eyes, smiling, and scribbled back:
"Royal visit. Tell you later."
Isabella's eyes widened, but Professor Hamlin cleared his throat pointedly before she could respond.
"As I was saying, the practice of combining elemental forces requires a delicate balance..." He droned on, and Melisa found her attention already wandering.
"I'm just glad my seat's finally here," Isabella then said, standing up so she could, as usual, sit on Melisa's lap.
As soon as she did, the world tilted dramatically. Almost violently.
Heat. Sweat. Spread legs and hands gripping thighs so tightly they left marks.
Isabella was on her back, eyes glazed with pleasure as Armia loomed over her, powerful muscles flexing with each thrust.
"Fuck yes, right there, scales!" Isabella moaned. "Gods, you're so deep—"
Armia growled—actually growled—and hoisted Isabella's legs higher, changing the angle of her thrusts.
"This is what you always want, huh?" she demanded, her usual reluctance completely absent. "To get split by my cock like a cheap... tavern wench!?"
"Yes! Yes! Oh FUCK—"
The most shocking part wasn't the scene itself—Melisa had certainly witnessed (and participated in) plenty of encounters between her two friends. No, what made her breath catch was the surroundings.
They were in this classroom.
On the professor's desk.
In the very room where Melisa was currently sitting.
Reality snapped back, and Melisa found herself staring wide-eyed at Isabella, who was giving her a curious look.
"You okay?" Isabella whispered. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or a really hot sex dream. Was it a really hot sex dream? Can I be in it?"
"YOU FUCKED ON THE PROFESSOR'S DESK?" Melisa hissed before she could stop herself.
Isabella's eyes widened and several nearby students turned to stare. The professor, thankfully, was too engrossed in his explanation of fire-water harmonization to notice.
"How did you—" Isabella began, then realization dawned on her face. "Oh! The Memory... thingy! You saw!" Isabella wasn't ashamed at all, funny enough. She grinned. "Did you see the part where she picked me up and railed my ass against the-"
"Miss Blackflame, Miss Summer," the professor's stern voice cut through their whispered conversation. As usual, he sounded eternally disappointed in them. "Perhaps you'd like to share your discussion with the entire class?"
"Sorry, Professor," they chorused.
"It won't happen again," Melisa added, face burning.
"See that it doesn't."
The moment he turned back to the blackboard, Isabella slipped Melisa another note:
Bathroom after class?
Melisa thought about it for a couple of seconds.
[... I mean... It was hot.]
She answered back:
Sure
---
{Jaylin}
Jaylin paced her small dormitory room, rehearsing under her breath.
"Oh, Margaret! I didn't see you there. Let me help you with those groceries."
She shook her head, dissatisfied with her delivery.
"Too eager. Try again."
She cleared her throat, adopting a more casual tone.
"Hey, Margaret. Heading out? I was just... No, that's stupid."
She'd been at this for nearly an hour, planning the perfect "accidental" encounter with Margaret. Each scenario she envisioned ended the same way: with her touching Margaret's hand, arm, shoulder—anything to trigger the Memory Snare's effect.
It was... kind of pathetic. She knew that. Jaylin Folden, top of her class in combat magic, reduced to practicing pick-up lines in front of her mirror like some lovesick teen.
[Which is exactly what you are,] she reminded herself bitterly. [A teenager pining after her aunt's married friend. Who also happens to be her rival's mom. It's like something out of a bad romance novel.]
But no matter how many times she told herself to abandon this ridiculous plan, her mind kept circling back to the same tantalizing possibility: seeing Margaret through someone else's eyes. Experiencing her in a way Jaylin never could otherwise.
"UGH! This is so wrong," she groaned, flopping onto her bed. "So, so wrong."
And yet, she couldn't stop imagining it. If she touched Margaret, would she see a mundane memory of cooking or cleaning? Or would she see... more? Melistair's perspective as Margaret straddled him, her silver hair cascading down her shoulders, her generous breasts bouncing with each movement...
Jaylin's face burned, and she buried it in her pillow.
"You're the worst," she told herself, voice muffled. "The absolute worst."
After a moment, she sat up again, smoothing her uniform and taking a deep breath.
"One more time," she decided. "Then I'm done with this nonsense."
She stood before the mirror, composing her features into what she hoped was a natural, casual expression.
"Margaret, hi! I was just stopping by to talk to Javir about our project, but since you're here, maybe you could help me with something?"
Jaylin cringed internally but continued.
"I heard you were struggling with this one spell... Maybe I could help?"
That wasn't terrible. A plausible reason to be at the house, a plausible reason to interact with Margaret. All she'd need then was a plausible reason to touch her.
[This is ridiculous,] she thought again, but with less conviction than before.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror: flushed cheeks, slightly disheveled hair, eyes a little too bright.
[Get it together, Folden,] she told herself sternly. [Focus on your studies. Focus on the project. Focus on anything but Margaret's obscene tits.]