Private Tales Magic Steeped in Poison

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“You’ll like her.” Marianne said to Everleigh as they walked down the hall together. Marianne’s stomach was swollen, obviously round from pregnancy. Yet the blonde still moved like there wasn’t another human inside her. Of course, she wasn’t at her third trimester just yet. Even then, Everleigh wasn’t sure if that would be enough to slow Marianne down. “Has the purple hair and eyes like you, almost could be twins.”

Everleigh raised a brow, saying nothing. Marianne laughed, reading the poison eater’s thoughts.

“Of course you two don’t look like twins. But not that far off from height, with the eyes and the hair… let’s say you look like sisters.”

“Just what I always wanted. To really stand out in a crowd.” Everleigh responded dryly.

“I know the other initiates have given you a hard time. But she hasn’t grown up in the Academy. She doesn’t know you. She doesn’t see you as another initiate. To Ophelia, you’ll be another proctor. A young proctor. Bedsides, the mission is, as you’ll notice, suitable for ninth years. Infiltrate the Bellamy’s hideout and get them for illegal betting. They’ve been rigging the dog races again. You won’t find a Bellamy in there, but just nab whoever is in charge and bring them to jail. With some sort of proof. You can try their bar, The Dagger and Mare, but it’s not really a place for ladies.” They came to the meeting room, and Marianne opened the door.

Inside, Initiate Ophelia should have been there. But as the two proctors entered the room, it was clear that no one was actually inside.

“Well.” Marianne said tersely, “I had heard she struggled with… ah, what does Proctor Matos call it? Lack of motivation?” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Never would’ve happened before the Revolution.”

“Should I go find her?” Everleigh offered.

“No, let’s give her a minute or two. Maybe she got lost.” Everleigh shrugged. Things were done differently now. Ophelia wouldn’t even be scolded for being late, just a light reminder about time management. Everleigh was certain that on this mission, Marianne fully expected her to break Ophelia in. She came to the Academy when things were getting soft. It would take some bad blood to straighten Ophelia out.

Ophelia

 

[Ophelia]

“Let go of me. Now!”

Ophelia writhed against Proctor Jeeves as he dragged the girl down the hallway. She’d been there no longer than seven months and had made it clear on any given occasion that she did not wish to stay at the academy. She had no interest in being some pawn for Vel Anir. It was not her home and it never would be.

She spat at him and tried to bite the hand that wrapped around her upper arm.

“Now, now. Calm down.” Jeeves paid little mind to the scrawny girl’s thrashing. Despite already being late, he continued to rush her along in fear of what Marianne or Everleigh might do to the…irritable…initiate. After all, it was his fault. He’d personally overseen much of her incorporation into the school and of course the one time he had gotten distracted with his research, the little monster had tried to make a break for it.

Fortunately for everyone, Jeeves had created a collar engraved with runes that made it slightly easier to keep a leash on her by triggering her little shadowy tendrils to incapacitate herself. Or maybe it was triggering her hallucinations. He didn’t actually know. As far as anyone was concerned: if it worked, it worked.

Unfortunately for Ophelia, it only pissed her off even more.

She hissed at him.

The giant man-nerd picked up the pace until he and Ophelia came crashing in through the door. “Apologies, I was caught up in my work. I completely forgot about your arrangements.” He addressed Marianne and Everleigh, the former being a woman he feared most within the Academy.

“Liar.” Nearly invisible tendrils would cross the floor, grabbing onto both Marianne and Everleigh's ankles to hold them in place for only a moment before she would flinch. The collar glowed and the darkness dissipated around them. She was right, though, Jeeves had never forgotten anything ever. He was simply afraid of making the blonde angry. Her head turned so that Jeeves would be the recipient of her scowl.

Jeeves awkwardly stood behind the women before tossing the counterpart to her collar, which looked like a stone one would use to skip in a lake (with some etchings on it), at Everleigh and taking his leave with a final, “Well, it looks like everything’s in order. Take care!” Leaving Ophelia in the care of the two women.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Some time passed when Proctor Jeeves left, Marianne staring hard at Ophelia. They both had felt it, her magic touching them for the briefest moment, but it was there. Both women were irritated by it, but Everleigh remained quiet. Normally, she found herself liking the ones that had a rebellious streak against proctors. But she knew Ophelia was more on the ignorant side instead of brazen side when it came to her little temper tantrum. She didn’t understand what Marianne was like, what Marianne could do.

“If you ever touch me with that weak magic of yours again,” Marianne said, “you’ll be leaving the Academy sooner than you think.” The threat was subtle, but Everleigh was certain it would fly over Ophelia’s head. She was lucky that she was older. She was lucky that Everleigh was going to be in charge.

“This controls that collar of yours?” Everleigh asked, holding up the flat stone and inspecting it. She didn’t wait for a answer. At least the collar wouldn’t be permanent like some things tended to be. Everleigh thought of the rune on the back of her neck keeping her in check. It seemed the similarities only kept increasing between the two of them. Everleigh slipped the stone into her pocket.

“The mission,” Everleigh began, taking a folder on the desk and walking over to Ophelia to hand it to her, “is simple. But it will require being discreet and having your wits about you. I will be watching over you but also to help you. You get ready, if you have not already done so, and then we ride to Vel Anir. We’ll be there by evening and can start investigating. Any questions?”

Ophelia

 

[Ophelia]

Ophelia’s response to Marianne’s threat would be a simple eye roll. She didn’t want to be there; leaving the academy was the goal. And sooner was always better than later if it meant she could get the fuck away from all of these people. She crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair.

Her glare would shift over to the purple one as she examined the stone. “Don’t know how it works. Don't care. Don’t ask me.” She shrugged it off. It was most likely some sort of proximity-based rune that meant she couldn’t run off, she assumed. How she would get it from Everleigh, she did not know. That, however, appeared to be a new goal for the mission.

“Sounds boring.” She looked down at the folder, but didn’t dare touch it or look at its contents. An unfortunate downside to her running away as a child meant that her Anirian reading and comprehension skills were very, very far below the average. A fact Jeeves appeared to not have shared with fellow proctors.

USELESS!

Now if it were written in elvish…

Any questions?

Ophelia had dozens if not more. Why do I care about this? Why can’t I leave? Why won’t you let me go? Do I get anything from this…? None likely to be answered by either woman. None with words, rather. She was certain they had no qualms about using violence for the littlest of things unlike Jeeves who seemed more preoccupied in his research than disciplining unruly initiates. After all, it was his collar-creation that made it possible for him to let her run amok with little worry for anyone’s safety.

“None. I am ready whenever.”

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh glanced at Marianne, then back at Ophelia who hadn’t take the file. The poison eater shrugged, placed the file back on the desk. It was to be expected that Ophelia wasn’t going to be compliant, and Marianne was right. Ophelia wasn’t being disrespectful because she had once been a initiate months ago, but rather because Ophelia was disrespectful to all proctors.

It didn’t make Everleigh feel better. It sickened her. When she came back from this mission with Ophelia, how would she be judged by the other proctors if Ophelia was still displaying the same sort of disrespect?

“Are you packed, then, Initiate?” Everleigh asked, gesturing for Ophelia to stand up— and stop slouching— so that they could leave the room. She looked over at Marianne one last time who was staring hard at Ophelia. “You’re not wearing any sort of armor, so I think it’s safe to assume that we need to go back to your room.” If Ophelia took Everleigh’s offer, it would mean perhaps she wasn’t as stupid as Everleigh currently thought she was. If she didn’t, well, then she is exactly just as stupid as Everleigh thought her to be.

Ophelia