At 5:30 am, Lady Psyche and her cousin, Lady Thalia, stepped into a portal in cliffside Lycoscura and out again into the city of Kastri. Behind them the huge stone circle hummed as it powered down, thousands of glowing mana stones embedded into its surface flickering out. Here and there a few stones burst into twinkling dust, vanishing in seconds.
Psyche pushed back her indigo braids and turned her attention to resetting her pocket watch, grumbling under her breath that it was off by eight hours. Beside her, Thalia steadied herself by putting a hand on her cousin’s shoulder and waited for her portal sickness, as well as the fractured memories of traversing the lacunae, to fade.
She then turned to look at her cousin, who had finished resetting her watch and was now only pretending to adjust it. Psyche never got sick from portals the way Thalia did, but she always made sure to waste time after she stepped out so Thalia wouldn’t feel rushed to recover. Thalia smiled down at her prickly cousin’s little farce and resisted the urge to tease her over it.
“To the Temple?” Thalia asked, stepping aside as a portal technician wearing a pink priest’s stole hurried past, a box of precious replacement stones clutched to his chest like a baby. Thalia’s tightly coiling cyan curls, drawn up in a high poof that just brushed the dark brown skin of her neck, stirred in the breeze of the man’s passing.
“Of course,” Psyche replied, snapping her watch shut.
She soon exited the teleportation bay, Thalia following a few steps behind. They emerged outside onto streets gently lit by the blue-green light of pre-dawn, illuminating the white buildings of Kastri’s business district. There Psyche paused, turned to Thalia, and said, “You were on the Estate… what, two months?”
“Yeah,” Thalia said, covering her light pink eyes with her hand, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Did you get time to venture out all?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
Psyche adjusted the folds of her ivory dress, thinking. Next to her, Thalia straightened out her more practical silver tunic and noted, with some envy, that even at this ungodly hour her cousin looked perfectly put together. At twenty-three years of age, Psyche was two years younger than Thalia, but she was so good at pretending to be mature that people often mistook her for the elder.
Having finished her mental calculations, Psyche flashed Thalia an obnoxious smile and said, “Bet you 100 drachmas it’ll be four or more before noon.”
Sometimes Thalia wanted to punch that face. Just a little bit. Lovingly.
Especially since Psyche was probably right.
It was not a good bet, and Thalia knew that. However, she also knew that if Psyche had come on her own, her trip up the mountain would have been only one or two hours tops.
“Fine, I’ll take it,” she muttered, her big shoulders drooping. Under her breath, she added a prayer, “Weeping Mother, have mercy on your daughter, her junior cousin is robbing her again… owe!”
Psyche punched her in the shoulder, then breezed off with a dignified look on her face as if nothing had happened and, even if it had, Psyche wouldn’t have been the one to do it.
The two were betting on the consequences of one of Thalia’s blessing conditions.
Everyone in Cydonia was born with some sort of blessing. Essentially, the moment a baby popped into the world, some god or gods took a look and went, ‘That’s a nice baby. Have a little permanent buff from me, baby.’
Having a blessing meant that you enjoyed stronger spells, reduced mana cost, and a greater ease of learning, so long as you were using magic within that god’s domain. Sometimes it even meant being given a special skill that might otherwise be inaccessible. There were, however, conditions applied to those blessings.
Usually this meant one would have a harder time casting spells in a certain other domain, or maybe struggle with a particular type of spell. Conditions were generally consistent, so most of the time people with similar blessings shared similar burdens. However, the gods were nothing if not capricious, which meant sometimes conditions could be unique.
Either way, it was always true that the stronger the blessing, the more troublesome the condition.
Like almost everyone in the Graycliff clan, Thalia was blessed with an affinity for life magic, a domain ruled by the Weeping Mother. Her blessing was very strong, and one of the conditions that came with it could be a huge pain in the ass.
Lady Thalia attracted animals in need.
She herself did not mind this condition. Thalia, like most Hesperians, had a deep love and appreciation for almost all animals, and viewed helping them as a moral and religious duty.
What ‘need’ constituted could vary wildly—often it was healing, but sometimes just having opposable thumbs was enough—and the demands were rarely a significant burden on her mana pool.
The problem was that she’d spent the last two months on Duchess Atalanta’s estate, primarily holed up in the estate’s administration wing. That place was chock full of humans, but kept out most animals, including her clan’s beloved wolves.
As a result, Thalia hadn’t been fulfilling her condition. She hadn’t had the opportunity.
That didn’t mean she’d skipped it.
Instead, it meant that it had built up.
Even though they’d arrived early, when almost no one in Kastri was awake, they were stopped three times on the way to the temple. Once to heal a cat with a skin condition, again to cure a pigeon with a broken wing, and a third time to assist a fox that had gotten stuck in a garbage bin.
That third task brought them to an alley. Thanks to her unique blessing, Thalia didn’t have to fear being attacked by most animals, and so scooped the fox out of the bin with her bare hands and gently placed it on the ground. Despite being feral, it gave her a quick rub on the ankles with its head before it skittered off.
Psyche, who did not share Thalia’s ability to handle strange creatures without getting bitten, scowled after the fox.
Out of jealousy she mercilessly rapid-cast a few different disinfecting cantrips on Thalia, who yelped and failed to dodge them.
”Were all of those necessary?” Thalia whined, rubbing her arms and pouting, “You’re going to ruin my skin. Oh, damn, did I forget to pack lotion?”
”If you don’t like it, stop picking up feral animals,” Psyche said. Despite the frost in both her tone and expression, she still pulled a tin from her bag and handed it to Thalia.
“Hey,” Thalia asked, in the middle of rubbing lotion on her face, “What about him?”
In addition to the fox, there was a drunk man sleeping in the alley. He was sprawled on his back, snoring softly, and every now and then he’d twitch and give a snort. Both girls moved to stand over him, one concerned and the other annoyed.
”He’s breathing. He’ll be fine,” Psyche said.
“Yeah, but what if he gets mugged? Or chokes on his vomit?” Thalia replied, handing the tin of lotion back to Psyche.
“Then he should be more moderate in his drinking. He’s not our problem.”
They exchanged a look, Psyche’s angry blood-orange eyes glaring up at Thalia’s innocent pink ones.
“I’ll just take him to the Temple,” Thalia said.
”If you touch him, you’ll have to put all of that lotion back on again.”
”Now you’re bullying me.”
”How am I bullying you? Humans don’t even count!”
Ignoring her junior cousin, Thalia bent over, picked up the man, and threw him over her shoulder like a sack of grain.
“So? We’re already here!” she said, and headed out of the alley, leaving her cousin behind.
“You—!” Psyche, who had once again failed to protect Thalia from her own unrestrained altruism, jogged to catch up and continued, “Fine! But you’d better not waste your mana curing his hangover!”
“Okay, okay!”
A few minutes later they entered between the pillars of Kastri's main temple, Thalia still carrying the unfortunate man. Inside, a vast marble room stretched before them, its ceiling towering far above their heads. In the entry area rows of wooden benches and a small dais served as a place for gathered worship, and beyond that the altars of various gods lined the room, three on each wall. The altars at the far back were the largest of those, their size reflecting the importance of the pantheon’s leaders.
As they entered, they exchanged polite nods with a priestess of the Divine Chorus, denoted by the bright red stole she wore over her white robes. She took one look at the man on Thalia’s shoulder, gestured to a bench, and went back to sweeping.
After laying the man down, Thalia headed towards the back of the temple to join her cousin. By the time she arrived, Psyche had already lit incense, placed coins on each altar, and had her hands clasped in front of her as she knelt in prayer. Thalia lit a few sticks as well and joined in.
Weeping Mother, please take care of the wolves while we’re gone—especially Cassie, don’t let him eat weird shit, Thalia prayed. And watch out for Psyche, she’s been having a rough time.
Dread Lady, please let Psyche find a good cohort—oh, and support her research as well. She paused, and then added, And may Duchess Atalanta’s condition improve.
Lord Underground, don’t take us yet, haha, Thalia continued… then paused, and added, It’d be great if you killed that bitch Empress though, thanks.
Eventually Psyche got to her feet. She offered a hand to Thalia and helped her stand up, then together they headed to the exit, where they paused by the temple’s donation box. Next to it was an altar of the island’s local god, the Silent Chrysalis. It wasn’t a good idea to ignore gods—even smaller ones—especially when you were in their territory. They each lit incense, said a quick prayer for the god’s wellbeing, and then dropped a handful of silver drachmas into the donation box.
Stepping back out onto the street, Psyche was just opening her mouth to ask to extend their bet when Thalia experienced a strong feeling of imminent crisis and dashed off without warning. Psyche, her mouth still open in surprise, recovered and ran to catch up, holding up her hems as she chased Thalia down random side streets and alleys deeper into the more residential parts of Kastri.
”Thalia!?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Conditions could be strange things to experience. Sometimes the urge it gave Thalia was mild, and sometimes the direction was so strong she felt like she was being hauled along like a fish on a hook.
This situation was the latter.
”I think it’s a big one!” she shouted back at Psyche.
Brushing past a wall of hanging laundry, they emerged into a dingy alley surrounding a sewer drain. In front of them crouched an old warden, his dirty face stained with tear tracks as his bloodied hands desperately tightened a belt around the back leg of the huge wolf laying in front of him.
“We’re healers!” Thalia announced in lieu of an introduction. She pulled her bronze lay-healer’s medallion from her tunic and slid to her knees in front of the wolf, heedless of the way it abraded her black leggings. “What happened to him!?”
The man, most of his face covered by a curly dark purple beard, looked up in surprise and suspicion. Then he saw Thalia’s bronze medallion, and behind her Psyche flashed her silver one, and that suspicion changed to gratitude as he started crying once again.
”He got bitten,” the old man sniffled, sinking his calloused hands into the thick fur of the wolf as he petted him. “Didn’t see by what. My partner’s run off to find a healer, but…”
The wolf in question, a massive black-furred beast that must have weighed a few hundred pounds, was sprawled in a panting heap. Ignoring the danger posed by his finger-length fangs, Thalia pulled his gigantic head into her lap.
“Wait!” the Warden said, terrified to see her grab his wolf like that.
”I’m blessed, it’s fine,” Thalia cut him off. As she ran her fingers across the wolf’s scaly face, purple and golden light flashed beneath them. “That’ll do for the pain. Psyche?”
The wolf’s hard panting turned into a soft whine, and he looked up at Thalia with big, trusting black eyes. The warden calmed down upon seeing this, and mumbled a quiet prayer to the Mother in thanks for sending help.
Psyche shooed the man out of her way and over to Thalia, then crouched down and leaned over to give the wolf’s leg a closer look.
“Not good. There’s rapid petrification, which means we can’t rule out basilisk…”
Basilisks were not the only monsters who could cause such a thing, but they were by far the most dangerous.
“Well, shit,” Thalia replied, and paused in petting the wolf to throw up a golden barrier around the four of them with a wave of her hand.
The old man turned white, looking down in horror at the wolf’s leg. True to Psyche’s words, it seemed that the flesh and fur around the bite was becoming hard and shiny like obsidian, and the effect was advancing fast enough to be seen with the naked eye.
”Blasted smugglers!” the Warden cursed, the lines on his face deepening in rage. “Of all the fool things to bring in the city!“
Monsters were animals that had been mutated by mana, and wardens like the man in question were responsible for keeping such creatures out of populated areas. In addition to patrolling and maintaining the barriers protecting roads and cities, they also enforced laws against monster smuggling and breeding.
In Aeonia, trained and certified class III monsters—such as the scaled and horned wolf on the ground before them—were permitted in cities thanks to their usefulness. This wolf had been bred for his ability to track and take down other monsters, and it was just bad luck that something small had managed to sneak up on him.
Class II monsters, such as basilisk, were illegal to have anywhere at all.
”This is all my fault,” the big man sniffled, his tanned, hulking shoulders shaking. “I never should have taken him into the sewers. It’s too tight down there!”
Wardens tended to be a serious and experienced bunch, and were renowned for their calm under pressure. Thalia suspected the man in front of her was only panicking so much because he was afraid for his beloved monster, so she tried to distract him.
”Now, now, what’s your name, sir?” Thalia asked gently, ignoring the giant pink tongue now licking her hand.
“I’m—I’m Warden Abas of Eion,” he said, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve. “This here is Lacy.”
He shot an anxious look back at Psyche, who had one hand on the wolf’s leg, and another raised in the air as she drew complicated-looking circles in purple and gold light.
”You’re from Thymimata, huh? Nice to meet you, Warden Abas—and you too, Lacy.” Thalia ruffled the wolf’s ears with one hand, giving one of his spiraling black horns a pat with the other. “There’s no need to worry, my junior cousin and I are healing students from Aegis. We’ve treated far worse, I assure you.”
”I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am,” the man said, once again tearing up, “He’s only a few years old—they say don’t get attached, but I’ve had him since he was a pup. I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”
“And what a handsome puppy he is,” Thalia interrupted him, smiling down at the wolf. “You know, I can’t help but think—cousin, doesn’t he look like one of ours? Doesn’t our elder cousin Silanus breed dogs with horns this shape?”
”Yes, yes. I’m busy,” Psyche said back. There was a constant golden glow now under the hand she had on the wolf, and the circles in the air flashed and vanished as she invoked them with her spare hand.
”You’re Graycliffs?” The man asked, surprised.
Thalia and Psyche both tensed up. Thalia was sheepish and looked away like she regretted opening her mouth, while in contrast Psyche directly glared at the warden and asked,
“Yes? So?”
The two girls braced themselves for his reaction.
“You breed damn good dogs!” the man said, oblivious to their anxiety.
They both relaxed, and Psyche went back to drawing more circles in the air.
”We do, don’t we?” Thalia agreed, relieved to have run into a dog-lover.
”You’re not, uh… you know.” He raised his hand in a flicking gesture that, to commoners, meant ‘noble person.’ He’d been so wrapped up in worrying about his wolf that he hadn’t noticed how expensive their clothing looked, and now it was his turn to be nervous.
”No, no. It’s a big clan, you know how it is,” Thalia lied.
She wasn’t sure it worked, but Warden Abas seemed to relax anyway. Most people outside of Hesperia only had a foggy idea of how their clans worked, only that the system was confusing to anyone who wasn’t from there. Most Cydonian commoners who considered themselves part of a family or clan rarely dealt with more than a few dozen extended members, whereas Hesperians tended to have hundreds at minimum.
“I can’t break this damn curse fast enough,” Psyche hissed, and shot Thalia a serious look. “It’s still localized to his leg, so we’re going with plan C!”
“Plan C?” asked the Warden.
”She means to cut it off!” Thalia grit her teeth and pressed both of her palms against Zeno’s furry head, the golden light under them intensifying until it was painful to look at.
”Cut off what!?”
”The leg!”
”The leg!?”
”Don’t worry, she’ll regrow it!” Thalia reassured him. The wolf under her hands started to droop and twitch. He fought against the spell, instinctively trying to stay awake to guard his injury, and sweat beaded on Thalia’s forehead as she tried to force him unconscious anyway.
“Is there something I can do!?” Abas asked.
“Message your partner and tell him to bring a lot of eggs and meat!” Thalia replied.
”And the Kastri Guard!” Psyche added, “There’s no way anything other than a basilisk could leave a curse this strong, you need to evacuate and quarantine the area before it bites anyone else!”
“Oh shit, you’re right. What am I doing wasting time like this!?”
Knocked out of his shock, Abas stood and grabbed a large silver bell hanging by his hip, only to pause once again. “It’s—I won’t distract you if I…?”
”It’s fine, just ring it!” Psyche snapped. “Thalia, I’m running out of leg. Is he good yet?”
Warden Abas unstoppered the bell, raised it high, and began to ring. The clamor it made was far, far louder than its size implied, a tooth-rattling clang that seemed to blast in through the ear and out through the back of the skull. It was a sound every Cydonian citizen was familiar with, and within a few rings windows on surrounding houses were slamming open, and here and there sleepy people stuck their heads outside to look towards the source of the sound.
Lacy finally went limp, and Thalia yelled, “Psyche I’ve got him! You’re good!”
With his other hand the warden grabbed a tube-like device from his belt and aimed it up. With a hissing whoomph! a burst of blue light shot skywards where it arced high into the air and then exploded into a dark red cloud.
Around them doors were starting to open, and people began to flood out of their houses and into the street. Every one of them checked the sky, saw that signal, and began to rush away from it.
Over the din of the still-ringing bell and the raised voices of fleeing people, Psyche shouted, “I’m making the cut!”
There was a flash of light, and a heavy sound like stone hitting the ground.
In the end, the wolf was fine.
Psyche and Thalia were less so.
Regrowing the wolf’s leg had actually been the easiest part. Healing magic like that took a great deal of mana but only needed minimal direction, as the wolf’s body already knew what kind of leg he ought to have and how it should be constructed.
The exhausting part was everything that came after healing the wolf. Helping people heed the evacuation order, coordinating with the other wardens that arrived to help, and finally having an argument with the guard about the necessity of calling for an evacuation in the first place.
Class II monsters like basilisk were illegal for good reason. Their small size and aggressive nature, coupled with the vicious lethality of their venom, meant that having even one in the neighborhood risked a death toll. The wolf only survived as long as he did because he’d been bred to have high magic resistance. Had a regular person been bitten, they would have petrified in minutes, if not seconds.
All of which was information Psyche had shouted at full volume while waving a chunk of wolf leg-shaped obsidian in the face of a Guard Captain who did not want to deal with the manpower, paperwork, and expense that would go into shutting down multiple neighborhoods until the snake that had bitten Lacy could be caught, all because Warden Abas had not actually seen a basilisk, only the resulting bite.
“A big one, huh?” Psyche said.
She and Thalia were sitting on a stone bench outside Kastri’s transportation bay. They’d picked up some biscuits and milk tea from a stall and were now eating as they took some time to regain their energy and mana.
While they’d both cleaned up afterwards, only Psyche had spent extra time fixing her clothing and makeup, and thus once again looked just as put together as she had that morning. Sitting next to her prim and proper cousin, with her perfect posture and daintily crossed ankles, Thalia couldn’t help but feel like she’d dodged an arrow by opting out of inheriting Duchess Atalanta’s title.
”Yeah… huh. Oh! But look on the bright side, the transportation bay didn’t get quarantined,” Thalia said. She chugged the rest of her tea before continuing. “That means the Mother’s still smiling on us, eh?”
Psyche shot Thalia a glare. “Oh, yes. I feel incredibly favored.”
“Ohh, come on—think of all the favors we wrangled out of those wardens,” Thalia elbowed her cousin. “We’ve probably got half of them in our pockets, now. Just imagine the sort of trouble we can get away with in the future!”
“Their pockets aren’t the ones I need,” Psyche mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing.
The morning sun warmed their faces, and for a little while the two of them sat in silence. Gulls cried overhead, and the vendor at the tea stall loudly haggled with a customer.
”I’ll double the previous bet. I say at least three more before the dinner bell,” Psyche said.
“Would it be easier if I just handed you my purse?”
Psyche extended her hand. With a dramatic sigh, Thalia pulled out her purse and dropped it in Psyche’s palm.
“It’s good you know when to give up.”
”Can we go find our carriage now?”
Despite her complaining, Thalia felt like she was the one who’d won. Psyche would only take money from her if she felt like she’d earned it, and the easiest way to do this was to frequently lose bets with her.
If only the Duchess would ease up a bit, then Thalia would be able to keep her allowance for more than a few days...
They headed into the transportation bay and briefly split up. Thalia went to look for a carriage and Psyche stopped by a newsstand to buy a few papers.
Once Thalia secured a ride for them—one without horses, it was better not to tempt fate when it came to her blessing’s condition—she and Psyche piled aboard. Psyche curled up in a corner and pulled out a leather folio from her bag, placing it on top of the papers she’d bought. Thalia, whose big and tall frame gave her trouble in almost any conveyance, arranged herself to the best of her ability and tried not to squash her cousin.
“What papers did you buy?” she asked, folding and refolding her long legs as though there might be some magical position that would help her fit properly.
Psyche looked up at Thalia and frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “I see I can’t even read in peace.”
“If you wanted peace, you shouldn’t have made me your knight,” Thalia replied, holding her hand out expectantly.
Frowning, Psyche handed them over. Thalia examined them and immediately noticed two headlines:
‘Can Hesperia Afford a Common Duchess?’ From the Cydonian Observer, and ‘Cheated of a Dukedom, How Lycoscura’s Rightful Heir Lost to A Stranger’ from the Elusian Times.
“Really? Seriously, how much is the Empress paying them?” Thalia said, putting the papers down in her lap. “What a waste of money.”
“Strange, I thought you’d be more upset about being cheated out of a dukedom,” Psyche said, her lips twisting into a bitter smile as she opened up her folio.
“Why? I’m the one who cheated you into it,” Thalia frowned, flipping through the papers. “You know, maybe we should just rock-paper-scissors for it each month? If we keep going back and forth, we might piss them off enough to get them to give up.”
“Hmm. I’ve got a headline for that,” Psyche said, holding up her hand and waving it across an imaginary paper. “‘Rock-Paper-Crisis? Unqualified Children Turn the Future of Hesperia into a Game.’”
Thalia snorted. “‘Rock-Paper-Crisis’? That’s a good one. I’m stealing that.”
Psyche shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve got to be clever to steal a title.”
Young Duchess Psyche’s status as Lycoscura’s heir was a big deal, and not just for Lycoscura.
While the Empire itself was organized at the top under the Emperor and the imperial family, at the state level the government was led by its local collection of title-holders. The dukes of each state were de facto governors responsible for leading and controlling all the nobles ranked below them, so inheriting Duchess Atalanta’s position meant, to a degree, becoming the leader of all of Hesperia as well.
That kind of power meant criticism was inevitable, but the scrutiny Psyche faced was excessive compared to most heirs.
Part of the problem was cultural. Hesperia was one of only two states that didn’t require a blood relation in order to inherit a noble title. In the eyes of most of the Empire, Thalia, who was the biological daughter of Duchess Atalanta’s sister, should have been the heir by default.
However, even long before its city-states had been sucked up into the Empire, Hesperians believed that what made a person family was not blood but a vow. After all, people could become part of a family through marriage. Thus, having joined the clan, and having been adopted by Atalanta, Psyche was just as qualified as Thalia by Hesperian standards.
As for why Psyche became the legal heir and Thalia didn’t, the fact was that Thalia had refused to compete for the title because, in her opinion, it was a terrible job, and only an uptight lunatic like Psyche would want it.
”I’ll send these to your father,” Thalia said, folding them up and stashing them away with a sigh.
Most of the time states did things their own way and then judged one another without any real interference. The reason this matter kept showing up again and again in papers for the past few years was simple: Empress Ladike had a grudge against Duchess Atalanta, and by extension, Young Duchess Psyche.
“If you like,” Psyche replied. She did not say the rest out loud, which was, ‘It won’t matter either way.’
Things weren’t bad for them inside of Hesperia. Other territories and other clans were largely on their side.
However, outside of Hesperia, it was hard for them to predict when they’d be met with hostility.
“Is that your cohort proposal?” Thalia asked.
“Mmm,” Psyche replied, her orange eyes fixed on her papers. She must have seen something she didn’t like, as she scratched it out and began scribbling.
Thalia sighed. Knowing her cousin, the proposal was already perfect. The problem was less whether or not Psyche’s work deserved cohort support and more whether or not anyone running a cohort was willing to take the risk of backing her.
Not that she’d need it at all, if her and Atalanta hadn’t had a huge falling out over the summer.
“We ought to just raid them,” Thalia muttered, putting her chin on her hand and looking out the carriage window. She felt that conquering another duchy would be easier than changing the Duchess’ mind.
“Our navy was disbanded, Thalia,” Psyche reminded her. “All we have are merchant ships now.”
“You’ll never guess what happens if you strap enough weapons to a merchant ship.”
”Forming a new navy out of merchant ships would be illegal.”
”Oh, come on! Palea sits right on a beach! It’s sea level! One night, maybe five ships, we can take the weapons back off in the morning.”
“Piracy against fellow vassal states is also illegal, Thalia.”
“It’s only illegal if you get caught,” Thalia protested.
“That’s not how the law works and, furthermore, it won’t be hard for the Empress to figure out who did it.” Psyche fixed Thalia with a stern glare. “Drop it.”
Thalia leaned back against the window, pouting. “This wouldn't be an issue if you’d just let me introduce her to Big Stick.”
‘Big Stick’ was the name of Thalia’s bonded weapon, an innocuous-looking wooden baton that hung from her belt. It was an heirloom she’d inherited upon her mother’s death seven years ago, and a unique blessing she’d received from the Weeping Mother allowed her to use it.
”Thalia!” Psyche snapped, closing her folio with a crisp snap. “Watch what you say!”
”Why? I’m wearing my anti-eavesdropping artifact, aren’t I?” Thalia said, shaking the bracelet on her wrist.
”That’s not the point! The point is if you get in the habit of it, and then you slip up around someone else…” Psyche didn’t finish the warning, kneading her forehead with her fingers in exasperation.
Before Thalia could reply, the carriage suddenly stopped.
She sighed. She had that subtle feeling of being pointed in a direction again, which could only mean one thing.
”That’s five. Thalia, at this rate you’ll lose again before noon.” Psyche clicked her tongue and turned her attention back to her folio.
”I already gave you my purse!”
By the time they finally rolled through Aegis’ gates, it was almost mid-morning. Their driver brought them to the dorms, where they disembarked and paid him off.
Psyche took a look around and noted that a few faces had already turned Thalia’s way. Her expression cold, she grabbed Thalia’s bag off her shoulder and said, “I’ll put your stuff in your room. I don’t feel like waiting for you any longer.”
Thalia, who was fluent in Psyche, knew this translated to, ‘If I don’t take this now you’ll be stuck carrying it while you say hello to all your friends.’
“Awww, thanks junior cousin,” Thalia said, and ruthlessly pulled Psyche into a hug, then squeezed her, causing Psyche to let out an angry little squeak. “You’re my favorite hedgehog.”
”What is wrong with you!?” Psyche hissed, squirming her way out of Thalia’s grasp. “Why are you so shameless!?”
”I love you too! I’ll see you later.”
”Ugh!” Psyche huffed, and walked off towards the dorm with both bags. As she did, she passed by a familiar orange-haired girl sitting on the grass. Psyche didn’t bother to greet the girl, she just shot a quick look back at Thalia and mouthed, “I’m not counting her!”
Thalia smiled. Even when she was desperate for money, her morally upright cousin insisted on playing fair. Or… fair-ish, at least.
She then went to greet the girl herself. Crouching down next to her, she looked at the pale girl and said, “Hi, Arete. Heels, on moving day?”
”I wanted to look cute for Axi,” Arete said, her brown eyes stubborn. She turned her head to watch Psyche leave and added, “I see your cousin is as friendly as ever.”
This girl was Lady Arete of House Calus. The third daughter of a viscount, like Thalia she was still considered a noble even though she wouldn’t inherit a title. Nobles who wouldn’t inherit shared rooms at Aegis, and she and Thalia had been roommates since they’d been freshmen three years ago.
”She’s just shy,” Thalia explained, lifting Arete’s ankle and examining it.
“No, she just hates everybody.”
”Yeah, but she’s also shy,” Thalia said, and pressed her hand gently against Arete’s swollen ankle. There was a brief golden light, and then the redness faded. “Anyway, she likes me, that’s what’s important.”
”Everyone likes you,” Arete sighed, poking at her ankle to see how it felt.
”I know, and it’d be a shame to break that streak.” Thalia looked up and saw someone with brown skin and a head of fluffy purple hair running towards them. “Oh, your beau’s spotted you.”
”Quick! Help me up!” Arete hissed, grabbing onto Thalia. She did, hauling the smaller girl up and pretending not to see her furiously adjusting her skirts.
“Arete! Are you alright!?” Axiothea asked, slowing to a stop in front of them. “Why were you sitting in the grass? Oh, hi Thalia!”
”Hi Axi,” Thalia said.
”I twisted my ankle. I’m fine, though, Thalia helped me,” Arete said, pouting from embarrassment.
“Are you wearing heels? But it’s move-in.” Axiothea frowned down at Arete’s shoes, their black eyes full of concern.
”I know that!” Arete swatted Axiothea on their shoulder, her frown morphing from coquettish to genuine. “Don’t you have anything else to say to me?”
”Oh! You look very pretty today,” Axi said, finally catching on. “Was that right?”
”I don’t know why I even bother,” Arete mumbled. She turned her back on them, her arms crossed, and began stomping off towards the dorms.
Without her bags. Those were still in the grass, between Thalia and Axiothea.
The two exchanged a look, and then each grabbed one.
”Don’t say anything,” Axi said, holding up a hand.
”Who said anything? I didn’t,” Thalia said. “Look at me, I’ve got a heart like a pool of still water.”
She’d known Arete for three years. If behavior like this could upset her she’d have chucked that girl out the window of their shared room ages ago.
”But you’re thinking it,” Axi replied with a sigh. “She’s just upset because her parents… didn’t take things well.”
“I see, that’s too bad,” Thalia said. While relationships between classes were not unheard of, the family on the noble side of the arrangement generally felt like they were the ones taking a loss. “Oh, and I like your new earrings.”
”Oh! Thanks.” Axi blushed, and gave one of the silver half-moons dangling from their ears a flick, their simple design similar to the new moon stud Thalia wore in her left ear.
Fashion and social convention varied widely between the states, which sometimes made a person’s gender hard to guess at a glance. Wearing a piece of jewelry with a gender-corresponding phase of the Celestial Eight-in-One to clear things up was a Cimmerian practice that had steadily spread over the years, one Thalia had long ago adopted herself.
“Arete wasn’t thrilled about them,” Axi continued. “I think she’s worried it’ll make her parents hate me even more.”
”Well, they are Lycian,” Thalia said, with the unhappy tone of a woman who not an hour before had tried to convince her cousin to invade a Lycian duchy, only to once again be rejected. “Anyway, have you tried not listening to her?”
”All the time, but mostly not on purpose.”
The two of them caught up with Arete by the dorm’s entryway, where she finished her conversation with another group of students and shot the two a bright smile. Swinging back around to them, she hooked her arm around Axi’s waist.
”Thalia! You’re a healing major, right?”
”It’s a minor, but go on, Arete,” Thalia said, a little impressed Arete even knew that much.
Together they entered the building and began walking down the cool stone hall.
”Guess what! Apparently, you guys are getting a divine mage!”
“Oh! Oh…” Thalia slowed, frowning. “You mean a divine holy mage? Really?”
“That’s what people are saying. Isn’t it exciting?” Arete said, her brown eyes sparkling, “You should try to befriend her! Ask her to join a study group!”
”Aren’t divine mages supposed to be kind of… you know…” Axi held their hand up and made a back and forth ‘sort of’ gesture. “Weird?”
Oh, definitely, Thalia thought to herself.
Still, she was surprised to find that another had popped up and she hadn’t known about it. As the daughter of a divine mage, she used to get pulled into those circles without even trying.
Hearing about it secondhand felt like another little reminder of the hole in her life her late mother had left.
To her surprise, Thalia realized she felt a little complicated about this development. This must be the first new divine holy mage since Hippolyta’s passing, and she knew another had to be chosen eventually, but…
It felt, just a bit, like the Lady was trying to replace her.
She knew that feeling was unreasonable the second she had it, but knowing that didn’t make it go away.
Neither Arete nor Axiothea knew about her mother, so she kept it to herself.
”Yes, but also, you know, powerful!” Arete waved her hands, nearly bouncing with enthusiasm, “They usually become celebrities, don’t they? If we meet her before she’s famous, maybe she’ll remember us once she is!”
”Did they tell you her name?” Axi asked.
”No, but she must be a healing major, right? And if she’s blessed by the Lady, she must be at least a lay-healer by now! Plus, we know she’s a freshman, so she’ll be really young… Oh! And they say she’s got pink hair!”
As they approached their room, Thalia handed Arete’s other bag to Axi and then paused in front of the door.
Huh.
Had Psyche been so stressed she’d forgotten how doorknobs worked?
Poking her hand into the hole in the wood, she pulled it open and made to enter, only to stop once again.
“What’s the hold up?” Arete asked, trying to get a look around her wider friend and failing.
“You said the divine mage is a pink-haired lay-healer, right?”
“I mean, probably?”
In front of Thalia, sitting on the floor of her room, was Psyche. In her lap was the head of an unconscious pink-haired girl, a bronze lay-healer’s medallion hanging from around her neck.
Psyche, her expression exasperated, looked up from the girl at Thalia. “She’s human. Doesn’t count.”