Private Tales Dignity, Duty and Other Delusions

[Kalix]

[art cred]

Heading west from the great walls of Vel Anir, past the more green and hilly landscape that was lush and ripe from the early spring rains, a caravan seemed to be jostling along leisurely. If one were to look closely however they would see that amid the multitude of wagons pulled by two or more horses, in between that average sight were two luxurious carriages in between, breaking up the commodity. The landau carriage’s wood was darkly stained with brightly polished brash accenting the dark wood. The rood was up due to the dark clouds that could be seen on the horizon, the deep burgundy curtains were drawn so no one could see inside the window. The Andalusian horses that pulled these carriages had shiny black pelts and manes, it looked like shadows were really pulling these saturnine carriages.

Whether one was a commoner or a noble or even a merchant, it was obvious that whoever was inside those landaus were filthy rich. It was also obvious that based on the number of wagons, filled to the brim with something and covered with burlap sheets—and people walking or riding along on horseback near the wagons— that these very wealthy people were moving.

Kalix couldn’t believe that he would be put on such a boring mission. There was no chance of action being involved with something as mundane as this! He was practically on bodyguard duty but so far the only thing he had to do was to sit on the wagon directly behind the last landau. He pouted, slouching over, elbow on one of his thighs so he could rest his cheek in the palm of his hand. The disappointment was palpable and Kalix knew that the reason why he was even on something as basic as this “mission” was really because he was in trouble. Proctor Novgorodoff had enough of Kalix’s shit— and yes, he even used the word shit! That was when the young man knew he had fucked up. Proctor Novgorodoff never cursed, ever.

The Academy couldn’t use the term punishment anymore. It was either extra drills during the hour break they now had after the revolution, or quite often, “rEmEdIaL lEsSoNs.” This would be the perfect remedial lesson for KP or Chas or Liza, but not for someone like Initiate Kalix! He was dying of boredom out here! Is that what Proctor Novgorodoff wanted? For Kalix, one of the strongest initiates, to die?

Kalix sighed, a long, heavy one. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about possibly just taking a nap. He could sleep just about anywhere, after all, one of his talents was sleeping while standing up— a skill he had learned from constantly having to wait outside of classrooms for being a disturbance to the nerds. He quickly opened his eyes, remembering who was sitting across from him. Proctor D’Amour. Proctor Novgorodoff wouldn’t be the one accompanying him on his remedial class, not with his rapidly aging body, but why Proctor D’Amour had been assigned for this, Kalix couldn’t guess. Maybe because she was strict or something stupid like that. At least she was nice to look at, even if her cool blue-silver gaze was a hard contrast to his own blistering gold.

The line of horses, wagons, peoples, carriages meandered on, and Kalix looked behind him, seeing the old farm in the distance. He had always considered it the one-fourth mark to Amol-Kalit. He sighed, as if he were so incredibly weary, once again. They were moving like molasses and he couldn’t wait to get this dull “remedial lesson” over with.

 

[Evangeline]

Raw strength was all well and good, but Evangeline had seen first hand what power without discipline created when it came to Dreadlords. Proctor Novgorodoff was both venerable and one of the instructors at the Academy that seemed to recognize this simple fact, though his own methods of correcting behavior had been...less than effective when it came to certain students. Certain particularly bullheaded students, at that.

That was where Evangeline had been brought in. She had already been demonstrating a knack for curtailing ruffians at the Academy, bringing boorish brutes into the light of refinement. While she did have her own classes to tend to, where she found she shined was in these little private sessions. Small groups or even one on ones were where she could really focus on the problem students and tease out the best they had to offer. Sometimes breaking through was no easy feat, but she was certain that she could in the majority of cases.

Novgorodoff likely also wanted Eva out of what little remained of his hair as well. It was no secret that she frequently pestered the other proctors about their teaching habits, making requests to see progress reports and curricular summaries at regular junctions. "That's not the way we do things here," was a sentiment so often parroted back to Evangeline by her 'peers,' one she sought to wipe out if she could. The children of the Academy were the future of Vel Anir, and that future had to be cultivated properly rather than haphazardly as the older proctors were used to.

For now, that left the student Eva had dispatched with now, the particularly bullheaded Kalix. Kristen had apparently taken a liking to the boy for some reason, one of a few reasons why Eva herself had singled him out. This mission was meant to be quite simple, certainly, but nothing built diligence quite like monotony.
"Look alive, initiate," Evangeline announced firmly, but not harshly, stamping the butt of her cane into the bed of the wagon. "You're here to learn, not to daydream."

 

[Kalix]

Kalix’s gaze went back to look at Proctor D’Amour, glancing down briefly at the cane she had, and then grudgingly began to slowly straighten up. Rolling back his broad shoulders, chin with a slight defiant tilt upwards as he looked the proctor in her eyes. His black hair wasn’t tied up, there was no need for such a thing, he doubted they would even come across a wild dog.

A chilly breeze blew by, black hair briefly flowing up and around his face before letting the obsidian tresses fall down past his shoulders.

“And what am I even supposed to be learning?” He asked. Kalix actually would like to know what this whole lesson was actually supposed to be about? “How to sit down and look around at nothing?” He tapped the pernach that was currently connected at his hip but parallel to his thigh due to the wagon bench.

“Aren’t you pissed about this, too? This is a waste of time, it’s like a mission for when you’re thirteen.” Kalix insisted. He wasn’t known for being quiet, and really, Kalix didn’t enjoy silence very much. He often slept better during the day because of the faint hustle and bustle that could be heard going on on the academy’s grounds. But at night when it was dead silent? He somehow always felt anxious, as if there was something waiting for him in the shadows.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Eva leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her palms on her cane, and her chin on the backs of her hands. Icy eyes bore into Kalix, though an unassuming smile stood upon her lips. The coolness of the breeze was nice; sure, Vel Anir was generally on the colder side for Liadain, but the proctor knew that the way they were headed was going to become much more temperate very quickly. Seeing the mess of Kalix's hair, Evangeline almost instinctively brushed aside one of her own snowy locks.

"How to be patient. Observant. Intuitive." The proctor replied tersely. She could already tell this was going to be quite different from instructing Vance. Calgrave's biggest issues were his temper and conceit holding him back from hitting his full stride, but he was incredibly eager to learn and grow. Kalix had similar problems if his progress reports were anything to go by, but he lacked the same...finesse, and drive, that Vance had. Instead, he had the same incredibly dangerous magic as Proctor Arne, minus the restraint...a troubling combination.

Evangeline got a puckish look in her eye at the initiate's second question.
"No, actually. I orchestrated this, after all." She answered matter-of-factly. "And if it's so simple, then it shouldn't take you too long to figure out what there is to be learned out here."

 

[Kalix]

Patient? Observant? How the heck did you even spell intuitive? Kalix blinked at those words, a brutish look coming about to mar his feline features. He squinted at Proctor D’Amour. She picked his punishment? Why not torture or putting him in the box? Pain? Humiliation? That made one stronger. Not sitting around doing nothing! How was he going to get stronger with this? What was there to observe? Sky was blue, grass was green, horses smelled like horses. Look at that, he was already a expert.

Kalix snorted as Proctor D’Amour continued. He waved a hand in front of his face, looking off to the side, a poor attempt in hiding a snide look.

“Yeah, yeah, you just told me what we we’re gonna learn. Being patient. Being observant. And being…” he frowned. What was that word? Whatever, it didn’t matter. “Everyone knows that’s the stuff for the weak dreadlords with weak magic and crap skills. When I graduate I’m going to be a second-level just like my brother. Heck, maybe I’ll get to first if I can take out some big bad guy without breaking a sweat!” He grinned, picturing graduating, getting to first level before his older brother did. Now wouldn’t that be great? Kalix would be taller and stronger than Lysander! His older bro have to look up to him then, physically and metaphorically.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Ahh, how familiar this behavior was. It reminded her of an old acquaintance, one very brutish, exiled loyalist she'd butted heads with on more than one occasion. Those icy eyes of hers studied the boy thoroughly, boring through his persona in an attempt to get a proper read on him. She knew his type. Thick skulled. That just meant it would take longer to get the message through.

"Oh really? You know that sort of thing was pretty rare before the revolution. Dreadlords who didn't like to think generally didn't last long outside the Academy, no matter how promising their powers were." She provoked him with purpose, wearing a bit of a smirk now. "A few blokes in House Virak were the exception, but, well, you know..."

Evangeline trailed off, casting her gaze into the distance and looking wistful. A simple bait, but probably an effective one if she had any idea of what Kalix was all about yet.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix frowned, listening to the proctor’s words. Funny, Lysander had told him the same thing during the brief moment they had to see each other once again after the whole revolution took place. He also couldn’t help but wonder why exactly Proctor D’Amour brought up House Virak. Was it because of how much he hug around Liliana Lorel? She had talked about her cousin, Elise Virak quite a few times and even Kalix could piece together that the Queen Bee answered to the head of Virak. Or was Evangeline talking about Archon Isbrand, Liliana’s uncle? His dark brows furrowed together. Unless, was Evangeline suggesting…

“So did they die because they didn’t understand a catapults trajectory?” Kalix said, looking back at the woman, a more somber look coming on his face. “Did they die because they didn’t remember the definition for some word they’ll never use? Oh, wait, no they must’ve died because they forgot one of the names of the battles from the first war with the knife ears. Maybe they died because they didn’t remember how to recite a whole page from some boring book? Did they die because their dark vision rune wasn’t exact so they got that grainy look thing when you don’t make that hanging ‘c’ part just right?” He paused. What else had he been lectured on recently?

“Or did they die because someone bigger and badder than them made them kick rocks?” His tone had gotten deeper, lower. It was evident that this was a sore subject for him, and one that he was extremely stubborn on. Kalix himself didn’t even really understand why it bothered him so much, didn’t have time to worry about such a thing. “KP is smarter than me, right? She’s always using those big fancy words all the time, so she has to be smarter than me. KP thinks a whooole lot, right? So if we were to go at it, really go at it like before, you know who’d win, right? I know I’m stupid. But last time I checked no one was yelling at a sword to read or take a test, they just want it sharp enough to draw blood. And I can draw a lot of blood.”

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Oh dear. The boy was denser than she had expected. Evangeline's look fell slightly flat. "KP?" Ah, a nickname for Kristen Pirian. She had the...opposite problem, generally. She was bright and eager (if a bit naïve), but lacked the raw power and experience that a lot of the other initiates had. Eva still didn't understand why these two seemed to get along.

"They died because they weren't smart enough on the battlefield, Kalix." Evangeline chided him, jabbing her cane into his foot sharply to silence him for a moment. "There is more to thinking than academic knowledge, and there is more to strength than raw power. The revolution was won, despite the overwhelming numbers and more powerful Dreadlords among the loyalists, because they fought like fools. They were reckless, blind, and overconfident. Much like you."

Eva sighed. She usually liked to lead students to these sorts of answers, but sometimes the more bullheaded just needed a wakeup call.
"You are right: Kristen would likely not be able to beat you in a straight fight. She doesn't have the time you've put into sparring. But she will pass you by one day if you don't change your outlook. Not because she'll have become more powerful, but because she uses her head." She knocked the boy twice on the head lightly with the head of her cane to punctuate the point.

It was true: much of the academic portions of what initiates had to learn was impractical to their time in the field. The point of those lessons, however, was never what they were learning, but how. His continued survival hinged on his understanding of that, and that was why she'd taken the time for this seemingly mundane mission.
"One way or another, Kalix, you'll one day realize that you can't get by on bloodshed alone."

 

[Kalix]

Kalix looked down at his foot when Proctor D’Amour jabbed it with her cane. His frown grew ever deeper as he was compared to the losing side. Kalix huffed. Reckless? Sure. He liked to think of it more as he was willing to do anything to win— and what was wrong with that. Blind? Yeah, he wasn’t much of a planner. Fair point. Overconfident? Now that was the tricky one.

More than one proctor had pointed out that if Kalix was like the blazing sun then Lysander was like the demure moon. Lysander was anything but cocky, yet Kalix couldn’t really consider him the humble sort. He wasn’t sure why he was the one who kept getting called overconfident. Kalix felt like he was just normal confident— whatever normal confident was.

Then the comment about KP. It’s not like Kalix wanted KP to lose or die or anything like that. But her beating him? That was when Kalix couldn’t hold back, giving the white haired proctor a nasty look. He had tensed up at the mention of losing to someone like KP, and when the Proctor rapped her cane against his head, Kalix only snorted.

“Whatever.” Kalix had no comeback. He briefly wondered if it was because he was too dumb to think up of anything. A flash of insecurity went through him, a tingling anxiety deep in his gut as his heart started beating faster. Maybe Proctor D’Amour was right and that was why he couldn’t refute her argument. Kalix huffed and then stuck out his chest. He wasn’t going to focus on feelings, never had before and wasn’t going to start now. “Maybe I’m just a simple man and I like simple things.” A malicious grin appeared, his gold eyes dancing in a shimmer of blazing cheekiness. Right now the only thing on Kalix’s mind was that he wanted Proctor D’Amour to feel as irritated as he did, and he knew just how to get under her nerves. Maybe. It had already been established that he wasn’t the brightest.

“Simple things like hot older ladies, booze, boobs, greasy food and other things of that sort after a good fight.”

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

If there was one thing that Eva was good at beyond combat, it was reading people. Ironically enough, that was a skill that she'd developed perhaps because of her experience in combat. It was an odd 'chicken or egg' sort of situation for her, honestly. Regardless, it wasn't hard to read Kalix; the boy wore his emotions on his sleeve. She'd struck a nerve, that much was obvious.

Kalix's response made that all the more apparent. Unfortunately for him, that particular attempt fell a bit flat. The only reaction he'd get would be a quirked brow and a slight squint.
"Indeed..." She wasn't here to banter with a student, but she could hardly resist the urge to jab back. "What you choose to spend your allowance or salary on after a mission is entirely your business, initiate."

If he wasn't so thick as to misunderstand the inference, anyway. Evangeline had spoken her piece for now, and let herself slide back into her seat slightly. With the grace of a moment's silence, she listened behind her for any possible signs of distress. As easy a mission as this should have been, this was a convoy of valuables, and bandits and thieves were generally always a threat to these sorts of things, especially post-revolution.

How unfortunate, then, that it sounded like someone nearby was raising their voice at someone else. Eva frowned. Not something you want to hear on an otherwise mundane journey. There was no reason to do anything about it yet, but hopefully nothing would escalate.

 

[Kalix]

That grin that had once been so evident on the young man’s face quickly turned into a thin, straight line. There was a slight heat to his cheeks, he could feel it, that brief shadow of shame. He had been hoping for some sort of reaction from her, something that could have feel smug towards Proctor D’Amour. But if it was easy to rile her up, she wouldn’t be preaching what she had just lectured Kalix on. With a frustrated huff he crossed his strong arms over his chest, and as if disgusted, turned his head away from the proctor.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, rather dejected. He had been so certain that Evangeline would have said something more. Or at least give him a disgusted look. He frowned then. Yeah, he would have been happy if she had just swung at him with her cane. If anything, he wished that Proctor D’Amour would have beaten him, just like any other proctor would have. There was always something that when he was being punished, something inside him that made him grit his teeth and endure it, and afterwards when he would nurse his wounds, he would feel a sense of pride.

No. Pride wasn’t the right word. He wasn’t proud of being beaten, but he did like knowing he could invoke such a reaction from a person. A little disrespect here and there and some of the proctors, especially Novgorodoff, would give you that look.

Proctor D’Amour had yet to give him a look such as that. And her lecture? A part of it stung more than if she had whacked him upside his head.

“What level are you anyways?” If he had been told, Kalix probably forgot right then and there. But now he needed to know, he had to know, if Proctor D’Amour was second-level or above.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

For the moment there was no discernable rise in volume, no escalation of that nearby spat. Hopefully there was just some personal slight that the convoy workers had had, rather than anything more dubious. One ear was kept listening in that direction regardless, just in case.

In the meantime, it seemed that Eva's initiate charge had gone back to being bored and dejected. He'd clearly been seeking a rise, and in the absence of that a brief wave of frustration had washed over him. Somehow she imagined that just the little admonishment she'd given him thus far had been more effective than any violent or cruel reprimand any other proctor had offered him before. Good. If he was brooding, that meant he was thinking, maybe even reflecting. A solid start.

Then came his question. Eva tilted her head towards the boy and gave him a small smile.
"Second level, officially. I'd have been a First, but being a model loyalist was generally a requirement to advancement under the old ways, so House Pirian never had any First levels." Her answer came with a fondness and an air of pride. She knew she'd been worthy, but didn't care for the title, though she had wanted the prestige for her House that would have come with it. "The other Great Houses didn't want that kind of authority falling into the hands of known dissenters, so a Second level I remained."

Her hand palmed her cane. It was a shame that the events that transpired during the rebellion had to stifle that advance. Higher callings did present themselves though; after all, she was participating in that calling right that very moment.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix looked at Evangeline with a raised brow and a frown. So she was at the same level as Lysander. Or perhaps higher. The politics surrounding Vel Anir went over Kalix’s head, always. That was why Liliana Lorel was almost like a godsend to this initiate, even if many around him understood that if anyone really benefited from their dynamic, it was Liliana. Kalix didn’t care to think, and even if he did a little bit of thinking, Liliana just had a better plan.

One that often allowed Kalix free range in causing terror as much as he liked.

It was also a major crutch for Kalix, one that he innately knew of but chose to ignore. He had a vague, fuzzy idea of graduation. He would most definitely graduate, whether he had to kill someone or not, he was immensely strong. And he knew how much clout he got from his power and from his brother. He had immense magic, many opportunities were just laying in wait for him to reach out and grab. Kalix wondered, for just a brief moment, what his future would actually be like.

“So you can’t ever be a first level because of politics? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.” It was extremely stupid. “That means there’s first years that are weak and—“ Kalix’s eyes widened, a slight epiphany forming. He was having a very small spark of realization, although it wasn’t enough to fully ignite his understanding of everything just yet. “Oh. I get it now.” He frowned, not quite getting it but assuming he did. “So, hypothetical question, if my brother supported the rebellion does that mean I can’t be a first level, either? And he could never move up from second level?”

Rebellion. Kalix hadn’t even realized how that word could sound. What was the difference between rebellion and revolution? They both started with the letter r, they both suggested the same thing, didn’t they? All he knew was that sometimes he heard some proctors mention rebellion and others mention a revolution.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Kalix's assessment of the situation earned a small laugh from the proctor. The boy's bluntness never ceased to amaze, nor did his black and white views on life.

"I couldn't before, no. If I'd left for House Luana I imagine I'd have been a First level in no time, but I could never do that to my Lord and Lady, nor my principles." She elaborated affably, trying to work out exactly what his thought process was as the gears visibly turned in his head. She too concluded that he did not, in fact, 'get it.'

"Not at all. I know several Dreadlords who fought in the revolution that were promoted because of their valor during the battles. Even I could have gotten my promotion had I not chosen to become a proctor...and if I'd tried to do more about this." She assured him, punctuating her sentence by tapping her own leg with her cane. It seemed fairly obvious to most that the injury was a reason for her semi-retirement from duty, but Kalix wouldn't have been here if he were observant.

That reminded her:
"I'd nearly forgotten that you have a brother. Lysander, wasn't it?" She asked, curious. If she was thinking of the right young man, then the brothers were quite disparate from each other. Eva wondered to herself if Kalix viewed him with resentment or pride.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix looked down at Evangeline’s leg. Everyone knew that she had had a injury— her cane was proof of it. He took a deep breath, considering what the ranking system for dreadlords meant. If Proctor D’Amour was a second level because of her leg, then the first levels must be fearsome. He thought about it, wondering briefly what Evangeline was like in her prime. His thoughts drifted to what she was like in the academy.

Her teaching style was so different from all the other proctors and yet she had been subjected to the same sort of torture that he had been, hadn’t she? Kalix was still lost in his thoughts, still trying to navigate through her words and his knowledge and perspective of the world— but one word broke through that.

If there was one word that could bring a sort of boyish delight to Kalix’s face, it was the mention of Lysander’s name. Kalix had been brought to the academy when he was six, Lysander was ten. Despite having less time than other initiates Kalix felt such immense pride for how Lysander quickly moved up to be the best in his year.

Even if it meant that when Lysander was to be punished the proctors would bring Kalix into one of those dank dungeon rooms and chain him up and drop him in that case of—

…Don’t think about it….​

“Lysander is my brother!” Kalix beamed, never feeling the need to clarify they were only related through their mother. “He’s gonna be the strongest dreadlord ever, just you wait. Well, after me. I’m def gonna be the strongest. But when I graduate, him and I together? Shit, we’re gonna be the dynamic duo that can’t be stopped. You’ll see, we’ll be like… totally unstoppable. We’ll be archons together!” He paused then looked at Proctor D’Amour with a more somber expression, a slight smile.

“Or that was the plan. Last time I saw Lys he told me he just wanted to like… yanno, do what was right or whatever. Said something about being a eagle-librarian or whatever. I didn’t know he liked birds like that but maybe when I graduate things can go back to normal.”

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

So it was pride, then. Good. So far as Evangeline was aware, Lysander was a far more level headed person than Kalix was. He had a positive example to look to, and a solid goal, even if Kalix seemed to differ in his opinion on how to reach that goal. Only one strange thing seemed to strike Eva as Kalix spoke.

"Eagle...librarian?" She queried, blinking at him in confusion. She had no idea what that might've meant, or why someone would want to be...that. Unless?
"Do you mean...'egalitarian?'"

Kalix must have been powerful if he had made it this far through the Academy like...this. There was no doubt in Eva's mind that if she didn't give this boy all the focus he had been denied over his years that he would die nearly immediately once he had graduated. If he graduated.

Still, she smiled politely.
"It means 'someone who believes in equal rights and opportunities for all.' Your brother must have a noble heart, if that's the case."

 

[Kalix]

Oh. Is that how you pronounce it? Egalitarian? Kalix nodded his head resolutely. Thank goodness it sounded way cooler than Eagle Librarian. More importantly, thank goodness his brother wasn’t going to have a library full of eagles. He hummed at the proctor’s explanation of the word, and Kalix’s bright expression that had been so boyish soon turned sour. Equal rights and opportunities for all? How the heck could that ever be possible when dreadlords existed? A deep frown had once again appeared.

“Is that what you believe too, Proctor D’Amour?” Kalix asked solemnly. “Because ‘fairness’ doesn’t exist. At least not at the academy, as proctor Novgorodoff always said, ‘fairness is a construct created by the weak’.” Was it fair that Kalix was punished if he wasn’t fast or strong enough? Was it fair that if Lysander had messed up, Kalix would be the one to get physically harmed? Was it fair that he had to kill other children to ensure his survival? Was it fair that now after the revolution his whole entire world was upside down? Was it even fair for Lysander to change their plans and think about humanitarian efforts? Now? Of all times?

“Do you remember who you had to kill to graduate?” Kalix asked in a low voice, his golden gaze meeting Evangeline’s. He had clasped his hands together, his elbows resting on his thighs, legs spread apart as he leaned over slightly, leaning towards the proctor. “And was it a fair match up?”

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

There it was again, that taint of old Vel Anir. It was no surprise that an old dust sack like Novgorodoff would spew such woeful ideologies, nor was it a secret that he was a loyalist sympathizer. His toxicity was exactly the kind that Evangeline had come to the Academy to combat.

"You're right -- or at least, you would have been a year ago. The Academy, and Vel Anir at large, were hopelessly unfair places, soul crushingly so. But we fought and won a revolution so that we could start fixing that."
Eva replied very directly. All was not yet right with the world, true, but the kingdom was not built in a day. It would take much time to undo the damage that had been done.

Kalix's mention of the graduation duel finally managed to rob the proctor of her smile. That was an event she preferred not to think about it she could avoid it. In fact, she generally avoided thinking about her time at the Academy at all.

She eyed Kalix and observed his posture. It looked like he was trying to imitate her own earlier stance, which might've been funny of not for the topic at hand.
"Yes, I do. And no, it wasn't." She paused, her icy eyes meeting Kalix's golds, unwavering. "I was supposed to die."

 

[Kalix]

It was becoming quite clear now to Kalix what made Evangeline different from the other proctors. She was strict, yes, but in a way that was entirely different to Kalix. She wasn’t strict because she demanded respect, because she had some strange superiority complex or because she was sadistic. He just couldn’t exactly place his finger on why she was— how she was like this unless he wanted to take the excuse that she had served under House Pirian and that was a house made of softies.

“You sound like Lys.” Kalix said. It was all that he could say. A part of him was happy the revolution was a success because of what it meant for his brother. Another part was entirely confused on what his place would be. It’s not that he didn’t mind joining the guard, but how boring would that be? Kalix needed excitement!

Patrolling around the walls of Vel Anir were so not exciting. If Lysander enjoyed it, fine, but that was just because he wasn’t the best at having fun. Kalix would fix his older brother right up. He was so close to going off into his head but something Proctor D’Amour said grounded him.

“What do you mean that you were supposed to die?” He said, morbidly intrigued but also mystified. The graduation ritual had always sat there at the back of his mind. He was always so curious on who passed and who didn’t, and when it came time for Lysander’s test of might and wit and whatever else, he had snuck out and hidden himself, staring at that entrance for hours and hours.

It was the greatest fear Kalix had ever felt. The relief all the more sweet when his brother walked out, bloodied but safe. And now he pictured that same memory but with Evangeline instead, a bit younger, maybe less assured looking but still possessing that calm refinement she alone carried. He wondered if she too had been covered in blood like Lysander had.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

“You sound like Lys.”

Evangeline wasn't sure if that carried positive or negative weight. She didn't have siblings, but from what she'd observed of those who did, it likely carried a measure of both. There seemed to be a moment of introspection for the boy, a rare interlude where perhaps he was considering the nature of his position, his future, his responsibilities.

Gods, it was almost disgusting how ineffectual the 'veteran' proctors were. Imagine if they had actually taken the modicum of time and effort Evangeline was now spending with students just like she was now. Perhaps the Academy would not have become famous for producing barely-functioning, violent sociopaths and declaring them 'successful and model Dreadlord material.' Novgorodoff was going to get an earful after this was all said and done.

“What do you mean that you were supposed to die?”

My, oh my. Evangeline had let her mind wander as well. What a question to bring her back with, as well. A deep sigh escaped her lips. She blinked slowly, her eyes meeting the floor of the wagon for the first time since they'd started talking when her lids rose once more.

For just an instant, Eva was back there in that moment, clawing at another human being for dear life. She recalled the downpour, how it soaked through clothes and chilled her to the bone. How her blood and his mixed and ran together into sodden, runny puddles beneath them. How she had survived by the skin of her teeth, and what it had cost her to do so.
"Novgorodoff is hardly the first proctor at the academy to regurgitate that idea on 'fairness,' Kalix, nor the first to believe it." A far more somber tone had entered Evangeline's voice by now, the bitterness of the past exacting its toll. "I spent my entire career at the Academy defying the proctors and their teachings and succeeding in spite of that fact. And they hated me for it. I suffered through more torture than you could imagine."

The woman rubbed her jaw, the phantom pain of one particularly wretched device having never left her subconscious.
"When it came time for my graduation, the proctors knew that I could not be allowed to succeed again. They designed the ceremony for me to fail. A young man twice my size with powerful magic that ran counter to my own was placed opposite of me. He was given a greatsword. I was given a paring knife." She glanced up at Kalix. Any hint of that knowing smile of hers had vanished. Icy eyes bored into the boy. She almost seemed to look through him, rather than at him. "They wanted to make an example of me. They failed."

 

[Kalix]

Kalix loved stories. It wasn’t something he admit, he knew how childish it was, but nothing could enrapture him better than a good story. It was why when Perci came, despite being a late bloomer into the academy, that Kalix had stuck to her like a bee to honey.

And did Evangeline have a story to tell. It was short, not long, but it didn’t need to be. Every single world held impact because few words to spoken, causing the grave subject to elevate. Evangeline would see in Kalix’s gold eyes flickers of a multitude of emotions. There was respect and awe from her accomplishment, confusion and disgust over the fact that the proctors would tamper so much with a test, and even a moment of melancholy from the look she gave him.

“I didn’t know they did things like that.” Kalix lied. No, he knew very well of the cruelty of the proctors. He didn’t say anything for a long time. There was a bit of anger because of how unfair it was— look at that, him caring about what was fair. It was strange, if it was anyone other than Evangeline, one of the initiates that didn’t have magic that was great like his, Sable’s, Edric’s, Noel’s or Vance’s, he would have laughed in their face and told them to suck it up. Kalix was smart enough to not ask details about the fight, even though now a image flashed through his mind:

Him, holding a great sword, using gravity, and then Evangeline, smaller than him, with a paring knife. And somehow he would be the one who ended up dead.

“Whenever I thought of graduation I never put a face to my opponent,” he admitted, not needing to further clarify that if there was a face in his imaginary opponent, some faces would have Kalix struggle. Like if he went against Edric. Or what if he had to fight Jaxan? Or Zael? He frowned, and was about to say something else but before he could even open his mouth the sound of neighing and shouting could be heard from close to the front of the group.

And then a arcane explosion the color of a twilight sky burst from the ground not that far from Proctor D’Amour and Kalix, causing the horses leading their wagon to freak out and rear up and buck, tossing the proctor and initiate around for a moment before they would both launch into action.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Kalix seemed to have genuine interest in what little Evangeline had shared with him. It was...nice. A wonderfully humanizing moment for a couple of trained, state-owned killers. Seeing Kalix continue to delve deeper into his own thoughts and feelings was a reassuring side-effect, as well. That was all she really wanted to achieve with this outing, to get Kalix to think, especially outside of the narrow spectrum of his lessons at the Academy.

"I'm thankful that you won't have to--"

Evangeline was cut off. She had only a moment for her ears to perk at the resumed sound of shouting before that terrible boom filled the air. Evangeline grunted and gripped the wagon as hard as she could so as to not be thrown from it.

It took very little for the instincts of a Second Level to kick in. Faster than Kalix could see, her hand would grab the back of his head and force him to take cover below the edge of the wagon.
"Get down." She ordered the boy, only as loud as she needed to to make sure that he alone heard him.

She ducked down as well, peering over the lip of the wagon. She spotted wreckage, and corpses, and burning among the chaos that had just erupted in the unassuming convoy. She saw horses that were not their own. She saw glints of armor, dark gray, in the fray. These were likely not Kaliti raiders, then. She dreaded the likely alternative: loyalists.

Evangeline looked to her student. Any ounce of geniality in her face and voice was now gone. She was not Kalix's teacher in this moment, she was his commander.
"Stick with me, and do not try to play hero. I don't believe our attackers know we're here. If we are to triumph we will need to exploit that."

Then, she slid over the side of the wagon and began to creep into the cover of the smoke, keeping low all the way.

 

[Kalix]

It’s not that Kalix didn’t have good reflexes, despite his somewhat lumbering form, he was rather light on his feet. And at the academy, all initiates were trained to be fast and quick about anything and everything. The thing was: Evangeline was fast. Very fast. Kalix wasn’t sure there was anyone in his class that he could even compare to her speed. He wasn’t even sure if he could say that Lysander would have been as fast as Proctor D’Amour had been.

It was amazing and frightening all in one, the difference between him, a fully healthy and able-bodied initiate with immense power, and Evangeline with a permanent handicap yet second-level dreadlord. There was no way in hell that Kalix would graduate as a second level and be equal to Evangeline, no fucking way at all.

Kalix gnashed his teeth together when Evangeline did shove his head down. Kalix may have been dumb but he wasn’t dumb enough to stick his head up and get an arrow right between his eyes. Maybe. He glared at the ground but despite being hardheaded, Kalix would obey her every word. The smell of fire, of magic, even that tang of blood was assaulting his nose.

Keeping quiet, Kalix merely nodded his head, although a hand went back to hold onto the shaft of his pernach. He followed Evangeline, keeping low as she had instructed and was careful to not make a noise. The smoke made his gold eyes water but he kept his eyes on Proctor A’mour— oh, hey, when she was in this sort of low position, Kalix could make the outline of her hips and—

A resounding roar could be heard, the sound of running horses getting closer which snatched Kalix out from his lecherous thoughts. He glanced over, thinking that perhaps even with the smoke and wreckage that maybe they had caught sight of the two dreadlords creeping around. But it was for a different reason why they charged.

The minor noble family had stepped out of the carriage, the mother holding her toddler so tight to her chest Kalix thought she must be suffocating her child or breaking their ribs. She screamed and started running, a young girl in a dress chasing after her while what Kalix assumed to be the father stepped out last. Kalix saw the sister trip and fall before crying out.

“Proctor!” Kalix said urgently. The noble man wasn’t running away, instead he seemed to be looking around, searching for someone or something. Maybe them? Maybe someone else? Kalix could’ve sworn that they were supposed to be protecting a family six but he had so far only counted four.

Evangeline

 

[Evangeline]

Well...so much for the advantage that stealth might've wrought. Evangeline should have known better; if these were loyalist raiders, killing nobles would almost certainly be one of their goals. Anything to destabilize the power structure of Vel Anir would be in their interests. Protecting the nobles and surviving was going to be no easy feat. For young Kalix, this was about to become a trial by fire.

"Kalix, I need you to go after the runners. Stay out of sight if you can. Get them into cover if you can. Once they're safe, head back this way. I'll call out if I need support. Go!" She instructed and ordered him in the lowest tone she could, but there was not a hint of doubt in her voice. She trusted the young man, and she trusted that this was the best course of action given the information they had.

Once Evangeline had delivered the order, she slunk off to take care of her own part of this affair. A nearby covered wagon had been overturned, and she made her way into its wreckage to observe the noble father. Yes, he was likely seeking the remainder of his family, but there was always the chance he was looking for someone or something else as well. He was dreadfully exposed, and that meant that Eva wasn't the only one who had eyes on him.

In a moment another young boy, perhaps no older than seven or eight, came running through the smoke and up to the father, whom caught him in his arms. The boy cried for his papa before the father cut him off.
"Where is your brother? Where is he?" The nobleman asked his son in a panic.

"Careless, aren't we?" A voice called out from the blackened smog around them. A mighty warhorse trotted into the clearing as though chasing the sound, a warrior sat atop its saddle. By his accent, the man was Anirian; he wore little armor beyond leathers, including a mask that hid all but his eyes, ears, and the top of his perfectly bald head. Stern eyes looked down upon the noble from behind many scars, the most prominent of which was shaped like an "x," displayed near the center of his forehead.

The warrior wielded a heavy looking curved sword in one hand and carried a small child in the other, dangling the boy out like a meal for a caged beast. Yet another, thinner sword was kept in a hilt on the man's back, and the flesh on his arms looked strange, like charred obsidian.

"Y-you...you! You said--!" The nobleman tried, sheltering his son as best he could before the loyalist cut him off.

"You said this little caravan would be defenseless, yet by my very own eyes I've witnessed soldiers aplenty. Lest the blood dripping from my blade is lying, eh? Heheheh..." The Dreadlord laughed softly as his warhorse stalked forward, then he tossed the child down to the dirt at his father's feet. The boy had been crying already; now those cries ascended to screams. "I think our deal is off. We'll be taking what we want. What's left of your family can clean up the mess later. Now die!"

Just as the bald warrior hefted the curved blade, suddenly his horse collapsed beneath him, its legs no longer able to hold its own weight, much less its rider's. Evangeline stood among the clearing, her cane sword drawn and soaked in blood, just as the horse's bulk crumpled to the ground. To the loyalist's credit, despite his yelp of surprise he managed to dismount expertly, leaping to the ground before his horse fell to crush him under its weight.

"Bitch!" The loyalist shouted as he stumbled back to his feet, drawing his second blade as he did. He examined Evangeline with dull, hateful eyes, then laughed. "Heh...well, if it isn't a traitor? Good. This was so easy it was boring me. I was hoping for someone who could whet my blade properly!"

For her part, Eva had put herself between the enemy Dreadlord and the nobleman. She regarded her foe with a calm, keen gaze, but said nothing to him.
"I'd suggest you go. Quickly." She stated dryly to the cowering nobleman behind her, who promptly nodded and began gathering up his children. Her opponent took an aggressive stance, and she took a defensive one. Seemed it was time for a proper fight.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix nodded his head at Evangeline’s order, a pensive look coming across his face. He left Evangeline’s side, not even glancing back at the proctor. Kalix felt no fear, only a boiling aggression that was finally getting a reason to show itself. Although, that wasn’t to say it took him over completely, Evangeline’s stoic and sage words now at the back of his mind but unconsciously leading Kalix to remain quiet.

Normally he would have rushed out and would have preferred to go right into the fray and slaughter whoever came even near him. And while that plan of attack would definitely work with those without magic or had little experience, it did make Kalix incredibly vulnerable— more than he’d ever admit even to himself. Besides, protecting the noble family, that was his role right now. And if a bandit were to come too close then Kalix was ready to knock them out.

Staying fairly crouched, Kalix began to rush as fast as he could over to where the mother and two of her children had ran. In rather shocking turn of events, the mother came back to her fallen daughter, her face as white as a sheet as she reached out a hand to pull her hand up. She went to pivot on her heel, a tight grip on the elder sister’s wrist, but froze. Kalix met her line of sight and saw a slew of arrows arching high in the sky.

Without much thought Kalix used his magic, keeping his gold gaze on the arrows. He reduced their gravity completely and when they began to float high into the sky was when Kalix began his path back to the Noble family. No longer focusing on the arrows, that fell flat to the ground. It didn’t take long for him to catch up to them, after all he was in peak physical condition compared to the family. Even with his armor and pernach, Kalix moved quickly and assuredly compared to the panicking mother and her children.

The youngest in her arms was crying out and when he caught sight of Kalix he howled.

“Stop running! Stop running!” Kalix shouted, glancing back over his shoulder over and over. The woman either couldn’t hear Kalix or thought she knew better. With an exasperated huff, Kalix reached out with the hand that wasn’t clenching his pernach and grabbed the daughter’s shoulder. She yelped and then the noble woman finally looked back at him. She opened her mouth to scream until that flicker of recognition flashed in her brown eyes. “Follow me.” He growled and she nodded her head. He looked back, back to where Proctor D’Amour was.

The only thing he could make out was that a large horse had fallen and the rider looked to have got off. He cursed under his breath for a moment. A part of him urged him to go back there, not because he felt Evangeline needed his help but rather because things did look far more exciting. All he had gotten was some meager line of arrows and— through the smog he saw the riders. ten in total. The girl began bawling her eyes out.

“Hey.” Kalix said, leaning down and picking up a handful of small rocks. “Wanna see something cool?” He asked, looking over at the little girl and giving her a big grin in an attempt to reassure her. She only shook her head and it caused the initiate to roll his gold eyes all the way to the back of his head. “Well you’re gonna.” He said and tossed up one rock before hitting it with his pernach in a horizontal swing. The rock went flying off and struck the first rider right in his chest.

The rock should’ve bounced out, but instead, it tore a large, gapping hole right through the man. Moments later he fell off his horse only to be dragged along the ground due to one foot remaining stuck in a stirrup.

“Cool, right?” Kalix said and threw up another rock, readying his swing to do the same thing again to the remaining nine.

Evangeline