The Hermit, The Tower, The World (Vol.2 Complete)

22nd of Inandyl - 4th Isharil (cont)

Calas had expected the riddle game to be humiliating, but was surprised at how much he enjoyed himself. It was likely the warm, genuine laugh that Serea had beside him throughout the game. It was a surreal, almost dreamlike, experience. The haze of it made it easy to forget that Fara and Vesa watched them both like hawks. Calas almost forgot that they had plotted this little happenstance for reasons unknown. Almost.

Every so often the fog lifted and he and Fara locked eyes. Calas seethed, still trying to figure out what Fara's ultimate goal was at the end of this little game of hers. Fara, on the other hand, smirked, sly and knowing, which infuriated Calas all the more.

After the game concluded and the last "wow" spoken, Vesa directed everyone's attention to the table lined with sandwiches, snacks, and a rather large cake. It was quite an impressive display for as small as the gathering was, but the style and setup was very familiar and reminded him not just a little bit of home. Even the cake was a spiced honey cake, which wasn't very well known this far north, but was a delicacy in Horora.

He took a piece, wondering all the while where she had gotten it. Surely, it wasn't from the kitchens in the Great Hall. It smelled like the real deal, but Calas knew enough about his family's dealings in the spice trade to know that it was likely just a substitution. After he took a bite though, it was much harder to determine if substitutions were used. A wave of nostalgia rolled through him and not all of it was bad.

"It must be good." Calas blinked at Serea's voice, which brought him to the present.

"Yeah, actually." He stated slowly as she cut a piece for herself.

"I've never seen a cake without frosting before." She mused, more to herself than to him, he thought.

"It's kinda the norm where I'm from."

She turned to face him and he noticed that her blue eyes practically sparkled in the oddly bright firelight. "Oh, Vesa told me it was common where she is from, too. 'A little taste of home,' she said."

Calas nodded, keeping his expression neutral while he berated himself silently for letting that detail slip. The "taste of home" lingered in his mouth, the familiar sweetness mingled with the fragrant blend. Each aspect fought for dominance, but neither won out and it struck him as something very Horora, indeed. He decided to change the subject.

"You got quite a few of those riddles right." Calas commented as he set the piece of cake aside on a nearby table.

"Yeah, the 'darkness' one was kinda tricky but I like those kinds." She gave him a grin that lit up her face and he reflected the smile back at her.

"You are quite clever." A moment of deja vu stunned him as he recalled saying something similar to Lady Crow. All thoughts of the Masquerade were interrupted by Serea's smile that faltered.

A spike of panic filled him at the thought that he had inadvertently pissed her off. Again. Calas figured he had a knack for saying the exact thing that would set her off. It happened to him all throughout last term and sometimes he had used it to his advantage if it helped her understand her magic. Just to be safe, he changed the subject again.

"Who is this lovely butterfly on your shoulder, today?" He pointed at the small thing, hoping that would be a safe subject to keep her talking.

"Oh, this is Chou, my, um, familiar." She said it uneasily, not like she was hiding something, it was more like that explaining it was uncomfortable. A familiar would explain the sentience, but the body was clearly made from metals. He saw it more clearly when it fluttered up toward him and Calas nodded in greeting.

It looked like something Wen would come up with upon closer inspection. The sky blue in its wings blurred as it floated in front of his face. A soft light blue glow emanated from the center of the three sections on her gray metal body. Six thin, metal appendages, three on each side, hung from the same central section. The top section had a button-cute face and two antennae poking out.

"It's nice to meet you, Chou." He waved to her small, fluttering form and wondered how it could fly.

"It is nice to meet you, finally." It greeted him in a small, breezy voice. "Cira and Serea talk about you all the time."

Calas choked down a laugh at this information, but the motion was covered by the mouse's exclamation of dismay. "Chou!"

It does seem to have a mind of its own, he thought with a smile. He pointedly did not ask what was said about him, though. He learned long ago not to ask questions he would rather not know the answers to. Calas instead chose to ignore that little gem.

"Well, Serea hasn't told me a thing about you." He peered toward the small automaton hiding in the sandy blond curtain of Serea's hair.

"I kind of, uh, made her." Serea started. Her voice was hushed as she fidgeted with her nails. Calas' brow furrowed as she looked away from him and he found it odd that she became so timid. Since when had she ever backed down from his teasing?

This is a first, he thought, what happened to my fierce, little mouse? A familiar instinct stirred within him as it sensed the change, but Calas set his jaw and pushed it back down.

"I replicated the pattern from a very complex piece of Arcanum in the shape of a beetle in my relics class near the end of the term and well, here she is." Serea explained with a smile for the "she" on her shoulder.

Relics. That made a lot of sense to Calas and he concluded that this tiny mechanical body of Chou's actually was a Wen original design.

"Sounds promising for next term." He leaned against one of the tables and crossed his arms before continuing. "What combat class are you in next term?"

"Professor Lighthammer says I have a real talent for enchantment, but I feel like I have no talent at all for physical stuff like combat." She sighed deeply, chest heaving softly with the effort. "So I really hadn't thought about taking a combat class next term."

Calas paused. This had to be the longest conversation they had ever had outside of him just prodding her, goading her, or guilting her into a response. This must be what a normal conversation feels like.

"Well, that's a shame. Not only that you hadn't thought about it, but also that your assessment of your own talent is just not true in this case." Disappointment formed on his face. How could he convince her that she was actually really good with minimal training? Especially with magic. If she were to add martial skills to that, she might be able to kick my ass. Eventually.

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She just rolled her eyes at him, scoffing. "Come on, you were there with me all term. I was pitiful!" The whine in her voice reminded him of Korinna and he chuckled under his breath, despite himself.

"Yeah, you may have started out that way, but who doesn't? Besides, your mock exam more than made up for the slow start." The memory of the largest tidal wave spell he had ever seen flashed in his mind and he smirked broadly.

"You heard about my combat exam…" It wasn't exactly a question and her breathy voice was a bit like Chou's as she looked away, once again the timid mouse.

"No," He started slowly, patiently, as he quelled the surge of instincts that told him this mouse was prey. Calas warred with that primal side of himself and convinced it that no matter how she might act, this mouse had teeth. Sometimes. Don't run, mouse. Whatever you do, don't run.

"I saw your tidal wave with my own eyes." When he spoke again it was deep and measured. "It was impressive. As per usual, you exceeded everyone's expectations and passed with flying colors."

After a long moment the desire to hunt abated and he leaned back away from her. He hadn't recalled when he leaned in. Her deep blue gaze followed him and took a cleansing breath to steady himself. "You will have to tell me how you managed it since the last I knew, incantation was a bit of a sore spot for you."

"It's not worth talking about. It finally clicked, that's all." Serea choked out. Something bitter burned in her eyes, it was fierce and raw. It took him more than a little by surprise, noted by a lift in his brows. A hand covered her face as if to shield her and she stepped back.

He moved before he could stop himself and Calas took her shielding hand by the wrist, prying it away from her face. His heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to regain control. Shit, he thought, why did you have to step away?

Calas was surprised the mark of Orendell was still cool on his skin with the spike of intensity that left him looming over her. Unwilling to move, half afraid to move, Calas knew he messed up when their eyes locked. His hand grasped gently around her wrist as her deep blue eyes stared up at him in shock.

First Lady Crow, and now this cute, sweet mouse. Asshole! Calas could only berate himself silently as the moment dragged on, neither of them moved. Hells, he barely breathed, but he could still pick up her subtle, floral scent in the space they shared.

Her gaze flickered to his hand holding hers and he knew he couldn't stay in this space. Finally, he forced his voice out softly, unwilling to frighten her any more than he probably already had.

"Don't ever say that about yourself, Serea." He opened the hand that gripped her and waited for her to retract it. Once she had, he ran the same hand through the long strands of his dark hair in an attempt to break his own anxiety. It only worked partially, but enough that he leaned back on the table. Letting out all that awkward tension in a breath, he turned his gaze skyward before finishing his thought. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know."

He breathed slowly for a few heartbeats before his attention was drawn to her beside him, moving the cake he discarded and hopped up to sit on the table next to him. He blinked in confusion at her. He felt that he would never understand this creature.

"I figured it out while writing my mock exam essay. The day before the combat exam." Her voice was calm as she answered his original question, but not pleased. It seemed more like a confession. "I made Cira help me to connect the weave to a trigger word the entire rest of the night." She sighed deeply again which made her small form shift in her bulky sweater. "I could only get the timing down to five seconds, but it started at two minutes."

Calas shook his head, with an impressed and bewildered expression on his face. It was only slightly spoiled by the frustrated pinch in his brow. "That's amazing. You know that, right? Not many can blend magical disciplines like that, you know." She acts like she should have been able to do this all along. Where did she even come from?

"Uh, no? Is that true?" She raised an eyebrow at him, which only confirmed for him that she honestly just thought it should have come naturally.

"Yeah, it is a particular area of study of mine so I am aware of how difficult it is." He thought again of what she called "weaving" and he promised himself to prioritize that book, "Empires of Eld".

"You study different types of magic?" She sounded genuinely interested, but the question was so simple that he had to mess with her now.

"Uh, yeah. I think most scribes study magic here." He stated simply, playing dumb.

Serea clipped the back of her hand on his bicep, scoffing. "Smart-ass."

"Ow!" Calas feigned the pain in his arm by rubbing the spot where he was hit. "See? Look how violent you are, mouse, you definitely need to be in a combat class next term!" The sarcasm was real, but so was the suggestion and he grinned at her playfully.

She gave him a dirty look that would only scare a hare. When she stuck out her tongue at him, though, a very different primal feeling passed through him before he reined it in. "Unless there is a more basic combat class than the one I just took, I don't think Professor Blackclaw would much like me returning after…"She paused as a hint of color blossomed on her cheeks, "after I flooded the training hall."

He burst out laughing at that. Like Blackclaw would ever clean that shit up. "I wouldn't worry too much about Blackclaw. I was actually the one to clean up all that water. He had to repair his golem before the next scribe could take their exam."

"You?!" She clearly had no idea what his role was here at Court.

"Of course, how else could I have seen your exam?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm one of his aides for the year so I get to see all the first year exams."

"I know you are a staffer, but are you really in all of his classes?" She asked and it was odd how inquisitive she was. About him, no less. Had she ever asked him questions like this before? He honestly couldn't recall.

He shook his head as he responded. "Nah, just all the first year basics courses and my own advanced one." He gave a nonchalant shrug in between thoughts. "It's not as much work as you might think. I'm only partnered with people when there is an odd number of scribes in the class. The rest of the classes, I just help out when and where I'm needed."

She was silent for a bit too long and he started to wonder if he had said something to upset her again. Thankfully, she visibly shook herself out of whatever thought had put that scowl on her face.

"How did you get selected to be his aide?"

He stopped for a moment, deep thought furrowing his brows. How did I end up this way? Well, I know why, but how…That is something different. Why did Blackclaw put his neck out for me?

"Ya know," he started slowly, sucking in a breath and letting it out all at once, not wanting to face the one possibility that made the most sense. "I'm not really sure." It couldn't be that an esteemed professor and war hero actually cared what happened to him; the dutiful first son and heir to the Duskwood Syndicate.

"Honestly, I think it's to keep an eye on me. Keep me out of trouble, probably." Yeah, that's the most likely reason.

"Are you that bad of a student that you need a professor to keep you on task?" She covered a laugh and Calas looked at her incredulously.

"No. Silly mouse. I got in a lot of fights last year, so it feels a bit like…" He scoffed at her poor attempt at humor and gave her a flat look. "Like penance." Even though he swears up and down that it isn't. He sighed, letting go of that thought.

"Like this weekend, for example," he started again in a less agitated tone, "there is this stupid faculty dinner and they want us, the staff, there beforehand to help set it up." He threw up his hands in a futile gesture, shaking his head in wonder. "It's a lot of those useless, menial tasks that he has me do."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Serea winced and he could tell that she meant it. It was more than a bit surprising to hear.

"It's nothing you did, mouse." He corrected her as he shook his head. He didn't want her to waste her kindness on him like that.

Before she could protest, Vesa announced that she was about to open gifts and all those in attendance started milling toward a table with a small pile of wrapped boxes. Serea hopped off the table and Calas followed close after her and took that moment to whisper in her ear.

"There are other combat classes you can take this term. Just let me know and I'll make sure you get in the right one."

"Yeah, I'll let you know." She nodded in response as she whispered back to him.

Once the crowd dispersed, Calas found an opening not too long after the gifts were finished where he ducked out quietly. He only found Fara's keen cat eyes on him as he slinked away while all the others conversed with Vesa or in small groups of their own. Calas only took note, though, as his last look was directed toward Serea who smiled among her friends.

The image filled him with both a hope and a longing that he knew was impossibly far away. Still, like his time here at Court, he appreciated these fleeting moments.