Completed Purple Butterfly on Your Left Shoulder

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Despite wanting to disregard Marianne’s suggestion, Everleigh did stop by the kitchens to snag a green apple. Somehow, taking one of the red apples seemed inconsiderate. She passed other initiates, not saying anything to them, but overhearing something about Ingrid and a bloody nose. Zael’s name had been mentioned once, then twice, and before Everleigh realized it she was running down to the infirmary.

When she reached it her cheeks were flushed, violet tresses sticking to the side of her forehead and her bangs were damp. The kitchens were far from the infirmary, and despite being a strong runner, Everleigh had kept pace with the beating of her heart. She steady her breath, shined the green apple on the end of her tunic, and stepped over to him, as if she hadn’t ran to him at all.

She loudly pulled a small wooden stool from one side of the room over to Zael’s bed. Everleigh sat down, pulled out a small blade that was hidden who knew where, and was about to cut into the green skin before pausing. She looked up from the fruit to his face.

“Do you want me to peel it or do you like skin?”

 

[Zael Castomir]

Sable and Noel left not too long ago. An hour, tops. But already the fires of resolve were burning hot, caged as they were inside of Zael's embattled body. Against Gilram and the rogues, of course, but also for more disturbing and enraging news.

Proctor Darius Kimble was still alive. That son of a bitch pulled some kind of slick miracle and escaped from the Blackwood. There were others, of course, whose bodies were not recovered, but Kimble's escape was the splinter in Zael's mind which could only be alleviated by the tried and true way of the Dreadlords: finding him, and killing him. Kimble and Malaneaux were partners in their callousness, about as close as pieces of shit like them could get to having a real friendship. Malaneaux was dead, thanks to some fancy finishing work by Ever, so at least there was that. But Kimble needed to get put into the ground right beside that bastard...and honestly, Zael wasn't just doing it for himself.

He heard footsteps coming toward his bed at the end of the infirmary hall. The partitioning curtains rustled, and around them came—

"Now here's a sight for sore eyes...heh...sore eye...I'm gonna have to get used to a few new things."

He looked at the apple she brought with her. Peel, or skin?

Zael offered her a smile. "You cut that thing into slices and I'll call you darlin."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh smiled, even now, as he was, Zael was still making jokes. Her gaze lingered over the bandaged eye, her smile faltering for a moment. She began to cut the apple into slices, per Zael’s request although she did hope he may just call her ‘darlin’ in that Tarrow drawl of his.

She pulled out the thick slice, holding it between her thumb and forefinger and cut out a triangle from the skin before easily peeling it halfway. It looked like a rabbit.

“I used to be a picky eater. My mother used to cut them like this.” Everleigh said as she held it up to him. The smile had returned at the happy memories, but it faded once again. “So.” She couldn’t help but pause. “How are you feeling?”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Like shit."

Zael accepted the slice and held it up for a brief second and said, "Thanks darlin," and ate it. Really, it was the small and simple things that meant so much, all the world wrapped in the tiniest of kind gestures.

"Barlow gave me an awful rundown of my condition. Not gonna die, but I'm gonna be here a while longer."

The sheets rose and fell as he took in a steady breath.

"And you, Ever? How are you feelin?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She chuckled, cutting off another slice from the apple, doing it just like she had done the previous one. She was certain that he felt worse than what he had said. She had chewed off her tongue before for a mission and to reattach it had been dreadful. And it had only been detached for a minute.

Of course, that was nothing like Zael’s eye.

“I’m glad.” Everleigh said, and then quickly added, “I’m glad you’ll live. I’m glad I can speak to you. And keep speaking to you.” She held up another slice for him to take. Began to cut into the apple for another one.

“I’m nowhere near as bad as you, but,” she shrugged, “we’re only talking about physical wounds. I heard you punched Ingrid.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

He took the slice. Bit into half of it.

His body was still worse for wear, but his spirit was doing better since he woke up. Not much better, but better. Weighing heavily upon him still was that guilt, that anguish, both just patiently waiting for their turn in his consciousness. It didn't help that he lashed out at Ralene either. No matter how he felt about her, doing that amounted to nothing more than a moment of weakness.

But Ingrid though?

"Yeah." He chuckled a little, winced, and then chuckled some more. "I'm not exactly in prime fightin shape right now, but I demoted her from Head Nurse at least a little while. Made her smile even uglier, if she was even capable in the first place."

He ate the other half of the apple slice.

Fuck it, just say it. Say why else his spirit was doing better. After the hell of graduation, everybody found out who they really were. No more cards left in any hands.

"I'm glad you're still here too, Ever. I'm glad you're here right now." He grinned. "Darlin."

The grim thought tried to intrude: what if Ever had been in Sieg's place, fighting with the Proctors instead of against them? He pushed the thought away. Hard.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Good.” Everleigh said, rolling her eyes in the same manner that Ingrid always had. “Not that I have a problem with her, she was the one to make my special elixirs.” Didn’t excuse her from being the raging bitch that she was.

It was the second darlin that caused Everleigh to flush. She was quiet for a moment and was happy that she could keep her hands busy. Slicing the apple, giving the slices ears, turning them into little green rabbits before handing them off to Zael for him to eat. She felt her lower lip tremble, her throat beginning to tighten up as her eyes began to water.

For a moment she thought about it, pictured Zael dying. Yesterday there were so many times that he could have died. Right with Kimble, with Sieglilly, with Sirius, with Malaneaux, with Gilram, on the way back to the academy, even while he was at the academy.

It was that thought of Zael dying that Everleigh had to ask the question that was weighing on her mind.

“Zael,” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Do you… want to talk about Sieglilly?”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Quiet.

Zael lying in his bed, holding the latest rabbit-eared apple slice. The sound of footsteps down the hall, maybe some of those monolithic Blackguards and maybe some of the infirmary staff. Distant voices talking, a back and forth conversation too muffled to make out. The low hum of healing magic elsewhere, perhaps Gemma, perhaps Jenna, perhaps one of the other Fourth Level Dreadlords who had made a vocation of remedying the wounds and injures of compatriots.

"Yeah," said Zael, the word like a solemn breath.

He found that he was looking up at the ceiling. That all-too familiar ceiling. That hateful ceiling, with its cold and uncaring oppression, the forever sentinel staring down at generations of Initiates with the same callous regard.

He looked elsewhere. At the twin bumps of his feet beneath the sheets at the end of the bed.

"That was the one thing...the one thing...I was fighting not to do."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“I know.” Out of habit, she held up the knife, licking off the sweet juice of the apple. A movement she had done nearly a million times, and then put the knife away. She threw the apple core into a trash can full of bloodied gauze and bandages.

Everleigh took a deep breath and shook her head. Zael hadn’t want to kill another initiate. Remembering every single world that was said while they watched the sunrise together. But the proctors had forced them to do such a thing. She looked off to the side, remembering the look she had given to Henk when he said he would fight Zael. She had wanted to kill him. She had given the same look to Sieglilly, she knew it, perhaps even a worse one as she had felt even a deeper betrayal.

She should have killed Sieglilly and kept Zael from feeling this guilt. Even if it meant he would hate her.

Everleigh chewed on her bottom lip. Such a nasty thought. But she was thinking too small. She wasn’t seeing the full picture.

“I know.” Everleigh repeated, and hesitantly she reached out with her hands gingerly to pick up and hold Zael’s hand. She grasped his hand tightly as if he might pull away at any second, and perhaps he would, perhaps he’d recoil from her touch. “And I know how useless apologies can be— how empty they sound. But I know that neither you or her wanted that. The proctors deceived you both.”

And that was the bigger picture, wasn’t it? The proctors had orchestrated the entire thing, forced them to kill each other— and for what reason? One last chance to remind them all that they were their academy dogs that attacked when ordered to?

“Do you feel angry? Sad?” Everleigh prodded further.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Both."

He wet his lips. Took a moment.

"I just can't help but think: is that the best I could do? For all my trainin, for all my power, that was it? Sieg was...a good person. A good friend."

More than a friend.

"If I called her out instead of lettin Henk step up, I could've...things would have went differently. I could have controlled it. But I was just...so damn focused on turnin on Proctor Malaneaux, so ready to just fight, that..."

The subtle motions of his pursed lips spoke to an agony contained in his heart. Repress it though he tried, still in his eye did the range of his emotions shimmer.

"I let her down."

Goddamn was he glad Ever was here. There was no one else who would truly listen. No one else who would give a damn. That's what the Academy, the old way, had done with rare exception to all of them.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Violet tresses swished back and forth as Everleigh shook her head, squeezing Zael’s hand firmly.

“We all could have done something different. I did nothing until Kimble hurt you. Could’ve put her to sleep or… I don’t know. Everything could have been different with one move from anyone.” Her thumb caressed the back of his hand as she debated her next words. “Maybe it wasn’t your best, but it wasn’t your worst. You went in that ring not expecting to kill anyone other than a proctor. You were willing to go down trying.”

Everleigh leaned her head forward, her braid sliding over her shoulder as she pressed her forehead into the hand she held so tightly.

“I think Sieglilly would find some comfort that you feel angry and sad. No one cries for us, no one sheds a tear for weapons. But feeling that grief… well, you only feel that towards others— towards people.” Despite the strong, stoic facade that Everleigh had put up over and over, even when she had been punished, the violet graduate broke.

Everleigh didn’t go into body-racking sobs, but tears still spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto the white bedsheet. Her voice cracked and her chest hurt, her heart aching in such a way that Everleigh wondered if this was what dying felt like. Having a pain deep inside, one that couldn’t be cured.

“I’ve let you down, even now, these tears are selfish because all I can picture is you not being here. I can only assume this is a fraction of the grief you feel for Sieglilly, and... I’m sorry for not doing more so you wouldn’t have to bear this burden alone. My heart hurts because your heart is hurting.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

I think Sieglilly would find some comfort that you feel angry and sad.

That same thought had come to him, and there it was, spoken aloud by Ever. If this was the way it had been meant to go—fate, as Ever had brought up before—then yeah, at least it had been him. Edric? Ralene? That lunatic Charon or that piece of shit Bull? If any of them had been the ones to do it, the memory of Sieg wouldn't have lived on in any of those cold hearts. She would have been just another body on a heap of the same for them. Forgotten.

She wouldn't have been a person to them. But to Zael, she was. To Zael, she mattered. If it wasn't for her...Kress...he knew Gilram's sickly sweet words would've swayed him.

Ever continued, and Zael found himself struck by what she had to say. This was the sort of talk the old way did everything in its godawful power to suppress. If he was a true believer in the old way, he would have looked at Ever now with disdain for her tears, with disgust for her vulnerability. Thank Kress he wasn't. For all his criticisms of the Revolution and the Republic, thank Kress that it happened, that it broke him out of the nihilistic, survive-at-all-costs mentality that had been pounded into him and everyone ever since they all got here. He had rebelled constantly in all his small ways, was nearly killed outright several times for it, but the true rebellion only came when the Revolution shined a ray of hope into his eyes. What the hell would he have become without it?

Zael made the slow and concerted effort to sit up. Everleigh's forehead was pressed into his hand and she was weeping silently, so with his free hand Zael touched her shoulder and prompted as gently as he could for her to sit up.

And then he opened his arms wide. Inviting. Fuck the Academy, fuck anybody who might turn that corner around the partitioning curtain and see, fuck all of Vel Anir if anybody had some wrinkled nose reaction to this. He was of a mind (even if his body likely wouldn't be so cooperative) to just walk right out into the middle of the Academy courtyard and hug Ever out there too, for everybody to see—Initiates, Proctors, brown-nosing nobles and even those faceless Black Guard bootlickers.

"Come here, darlin."

He didn't even know he'd added another darlin to the end of that until a second after he had said it, but...it felt good to say it. Yeah. It really did.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Pressing her forehead against Zael’s knuckles, feeling the hard knobs of bone was a comfort. It grounded her in a strange way. Everleigh was used to feeling someone’s knuckles against her jaw or cheek or gut. Heck, she had even felt Zael’s knuckles a few times within the fighting rings.

She felt Zael move and shift but she didn’t look up at him until his hand prompted her to look up. Tear-streaked cheeks with wavering lips, Everleigh looked at Zael in the ugliest state she had ever been in. The swell of emotions deep within her over-flooded. Like a dam unable to hold back water, Everleigh felt the bittersweet mixture of emotions that had plagued her for months whenever she thought of Zael.

Everleigh stood up, nervously. With the back of her wrist she wiped her nose, eyeing Zael. Waiting for him to say something in jest but instead she heard only three words. Everleigh decided then that those were her favorite three words to hear. The poison eater leaned in closer and closer, awkwardly and stiffly. She had seen others hug— but she had never done this herself.

Embracing another was wrong, wasn’t it? But as she pressed her chest to Zael’s gingerly, dipping her chin over his shoulder, and wrapping her arms around him, holding him close and wishing to hold him closer yet, Everleigh felt as if she melted into Zael.

For once, or at least since the first time since she had stepped foot into the academy, Everleigh Ebersol felt safe and secure.

And she knew. She knew exactly what this meant.

“I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to lose you. If I can just stay by your side forever then I know I can protect you, keep you from harm’s way. I’d sacrifice whatever to keep you alive.” She whispered, sobbing silently and happy that Zael couldn’t see her emotional tears. Her fingers felt the hard ridges of his spine, memorizing their shape and length and width. She wanted to pull him closer but was careful to resist that urge. But there was one urge that she couldn’t resist any longer. Especially with a decision being made, unspoken between them but it was final. Others needed her more, even more than she believed Zael did. “I hate loving you this much.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"And I'd burn the world to keep you," Zael said, equally low, equally intimate, holding her as firmly as his embattled body could in the embrace. It felt like their little pocket of the infirmary was detached from the rest—nothing else mattered but what was happening right here.

Then she said it, and Zael was given much to pause over.

He thought in sporadic, representative images of all that they had been through. He thought of the sunrise, that beautiful pink sunrise, just prior to graduation. He thought of how it felt when Ever came to his side while Proctor Kimble and Proctor Malaneaux were preparing to do their worst. Yeah. She cared about him. She more than just cared.

Then came to mind Captain Claudia. She was full of subdued charm, wry humor, and surprisingly lucid doses of wisdom (and wouldn't you know it, they were going to end up with matching eyepatches now). But what they had was transactional—even acquaintance was a strong word.

Then came to mind Sieglilly. Witty, a good heart in her, but she could be distant, not quite aloof but just wrapped up in (or overwhelmed by) her own world of problems. On that mission when he caught her spying, she had decided she didn't want to just watch. She wanted to see what it was like, and he obliged. But what they had was casual. Good friends regardless.

Ever? Not Claudia nor Sieg nor anyone else ever said anything like that to him. Thrilling and terrifying in its wide open potential, what could happen here? Beyond the transactional, beyond the casual, could there be something...special?

There was one way to find out. The only way, he imagined, since the dawn of time.

Zael pulled back and her face was a mess and he didn't care. He looked at her, smiling. Black hair, purple hair, happy or sad, Ever was Ever. His hands were on the curves of her shoulders, and one slid up the incline of her neck and settled into the soft hair at the back of her head.

"Let's do somethin we're not supposed to do."

No more waiting, no more worrying. They called her poison. Time to prove them wrong.

Without hesitation, he gave what strength he had to kiss her deeply.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Touching Zael like this, embracing and holding him close, it felt too good to be true. All her senses were consumed by Zael: his warmth, the rise and fall of his chest, his scent, his voice, his touch, the way his blonde hair tickled against her cheek.

When he pulled back, a sense of longing and disappointment washed over her and mingled with the security and gratitude. Everleigh had wanted to touch Zael for so long she hadn’t even registered how the yearning would take place. Late at night, especially when it got closer to graduation and after the Festival of Freedom, she fantasized about touching him. A lingering touch like a hug, full-bodied and warm. No more of her tests to see if he would recoil from the pads of her fingers.

A part of her wanted to take her hands to rub the tears out of her eyes. Zael was smiling, the smile she adored so much, and she felt silly for crying. Kress, since when did she cry this much? She hadn’t even cried with Proctor Palahniuk broke all ten of fingers to heal her and do it again.

But thoughts of the academy, of proctors and graduation faded away. Leaning into his touch and savoring it as if it would be the last (because it very well could be), Everleigh looked at Zael confused. And then his face, so close to hers, didn’t stop getting closer. Her mouth parted, as if to speak, and perhaps she was going to actually say something.

Everleigh bloomed before Zael as their lips touched, hers tentatively at first. Tilting her head towards him, thinking while she could that this seemed nothing like what kissing looked like. Whenever she had seen others kiss it reminded her of two people pushing their mouths together, each pushing squarely at the other’s mouth. This kiss was far more welcoming, astonishing Everleigh how much she had desired something she had never had before.

She could taste a hint of the apple’s sweetness on his lips. Her new favorite fruit.

Her nose nudged his, and her eyelids hid her dull violet eyes, closing shut. Everleigh wanted to keep them open, to watch Zael as they kissed. Even if all she could focus on was the length of his eyelashes and his blonde eyebrows. Wanting to bear witness to this moment, or perhaps trying to hide the fact that she had forgotten to breathe, Everleigh pulled back.

Both of her hands were tight fists gripping the sides of Zael’s shirt to ensure he’d stay close to her. Her chest was pressed to his, and without her leather vest on, Everleigh flushed as if she had on no tunic and was completely exposed.

“You’re right, you’re not supposed to be doing this,” Everleigh said softly, breathlessly and chuckled nervously. A sort of disbelief hung over her. “Did I hurt you? Are you hurting? You shouldn’t push yourself right now.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael was immune to fire, but he could still feel warmth. He knew when it was there, and he definitely knew when it wasn't.

And here the moment was replete with it. His core body temperature was still suffering the potent, lingering effects of Kimble's magic yet he hardly noticed (likely it was that it even enhanced the moment). He felt everything: the velvety touch of her hair, the press of her chest to his, the feather-like caress of the breath from her nose. All of which paled before the softness of her lips, wondrous and welcoming, like a little taste of ambrosia.

Here was the truth: Ever gave him what no else did, what no one else ever had. Through the fog of the Academy's brutality he could see it, feel it, like never before. And this was the exact thing the old way wanted to deny them.

Rebellion was never as sweet as this.

They parted, and Zael was aware of the twin tugs on his shirt, her fists holding on as they themselves sustained him. He just smiled as she spoke. He had seen many faces of Everleigh Ebersol, but this had to be one of his favorites—that vibrant red was something else.

"Didn't hurt me at all," he said. "And maybe, it was just what I needed."

Still, there was a vexing truth to what she said. An almost kinetic pull was dragging at him, suggesting cruelly and with increasing intensity that he lay back down instead of sitting up and enjoying their embrace. It would be days and rounds of treatment yet before he properly had his strength back.

He gently touched his hands to hers, prompting her to let go or at least to give him enough leeway to lay down. And so he did, his head once again coming to rest on the pillow.

Making the effort to push grief and anguish to the side (Kress knew it would come back to have its say late in the night), Zael smirked and made light of her remarks, "You're really gonna get it when I'm up and out of this bed."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Realizing how she was clinging to him, Everleigh was quick to let go. Partially because Zael did need to rest, but also because dreadlords didn’t cling to another. For so long, she believed in no one but herself. Her abilities, her mind, her magic, her body. That pride was still there, but with it was a new feeling of vulnerability— and not caring that Zael was the sole witness to it.

Everleigh leaned back and away from Zael, despite wanting to continue this closeness. But footsteps outside the infirmary could be heard and it rocketed Everleigh back to reality. This was still the Academy. Rules had been broken, dozens of them. She sat down on the stool, staring at Zael, a smile on her face.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Confident was her answer, her voice, but her violet eyes held both hope and nervousness. She raised a hand to caress her lower lip with a finger and her smile grew. She had to ask, even if it would ruin her bravado. “You’d… I mean, when you’re better, you would want to do… that… again?” Everleigh asked, her hand falling down to her chest to still her beating heart.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"As many times as you want, and then some," Zael said.

To care was to make oneself vulnerable—that was why the Academy abhorred it, squashed it viciously if ever they got a whiff of it between two Initiates. Yet to be so closed off, to be invulnerable, was the most awful feeling in the world. Zael knew it. Ever knew it. They both had lived it for over a decade.

That kiss they shared? Sweet liberation. He didn't know what the future held, but he'd make his way back to her. Through hell he'd fight, through foes innumerable he'd carve a path, to return to her embrace and to offer his own.

On that note of the future.

"I don't know if you heard," he said, glancing briefly to the partitioning curtain and then back to her, "but I got some unfinished business with Proctor Kimble and Proctor Innes."

Well, former Proctors, he'd say.

"I'm going military like I said, but...I'll be takin a little leave for them—whether the Guard likes it or not."

He'd take some lashings, a demotion, or whatever punishments the Guard threw his way if he ended up in trouble with them—which was pretty likely.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“What do you mean?” Everleigh asked, just as soon as her heart was rocketing up into cloud nine, it was soon crashing back down to Arethil. “Are you doing this alone?” She asked seriously, but there was an edge in her voice. She searched Zael’s blue eye, knowing that he wasn’t liar— Zael could be call many things but a liar wasn’t one of them.

She couldn’t help but feel that because of the choice she had made, destiny or fate or whatever else, had made a choice regardless of her wishes.

Everleigh wanted to take Zael’s hand, to feel that warmth of his pal against her own, but she refrained from doing so. The issue wasn’t that Everleigh thought Zael to not be capable, she more than anyone else believed in Zael and his abilities. But the issue was, more than any of the little things, that she wouldn’t be there. That separation felt different. They had gone on plenty of missions without the other, sometimes Everleigh would be at the academy waiting for Zael to return and other times it was her on a mission wondering what Zael was doing at the academy.

“Are you certain Kimble is alive? Didn’t Gilram…?” Everleigh trailed off, glancing down at her hands. They were in tight fists.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"I will if I have to," Zael said.

He knew Proctor Kimble better than any other Initiate at the Academy, and he knew damn well that he was everything that Kimble hated. He also knew that this fight would be coming to his doorstep whether he wanted it or not. Kimble wasn't the type to just let something like this go. No, he'd want to finish the job with Zael, with Henk and Sable and Ever too if he could get his hands on them. Break him, break all of them. The man's sense of order and discipline was warped into something pure evil.

"As certain as I can be. Sable said that Kimble and Innes's bodies weren't found in the Blackwood. Innes, yeah, kind of expectin that, but Kimble...he pulled one hell of a trick."

Zael snorted.

"Don't matter. He won't get a second time for that trick. I won't leave anythin but ash."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She took time to ripe the tears off from her long dark eyelashes, did her best to look presentable: uncaring and stoic. But as Zael spoke, Everleigh wanted nothing more than to kick something hard. The bastard that Kimble was would somehow not be dead. Everleigh couldn’t help but to blame herself for it, she wasn’t thinking and cared so much for Zael’s safety that she hadn’t thought about making it so Kimble wouldn’t be able to stand.

Tentatively, after taking a quick glance behind her shoulder, Everleigh reached a hand out to touch the back of Zael’s hand. Her fingertips were cool, and only her index finger moved back and forth to caress his hand. Her lips were tugged down into a frown as she debated Zael’s words.

“I see.” Everleigh said slowly, then paused looking quite bashful as she glanced at Zael’s lone blue eye. Well, it’s not like he had gone blind so her comment wasn’t too rude. “It sounds… dangerous.” She said after a few moments, still musing over unsaid things in her mind before settling on another truth. “I won’t be able to follow you on this journey. So you better come back.” Everleigh squeezed his hand then. Whether he got Kimble or not, he needed to come back.

“Since Sable told you… are you going with him to get Kimble and Innes?”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

I won't be able to follow you on this journey.

He had a feeling this would be coming. Kind of knew it would be coming, unless they were to both join the Reserves or both go into Exile, and neither of them were doing either of those. Still, it stung.

But made her next five words all the more pertinent.

"I will," he said. No jokes, no grins, no laughing. Just a firm seriousness in the matter, and the resolution to see it done.

"Yeah, I'm going with him. We'll figure this thing out."

Then, of course, he had to ask. He had to feel that sting again and ask.

"What will you be doin, Ever? Now that..."

You're graduated. Easy words to say in any other context. Yet the weight of the word graduation, he found, was still heavy for him. He still saw Sieglilly's face, that tearful desperation, right before she disappeared in the torrent of his flames.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh didn’t make a face, although she wanted to. She wanted to tell him that if push came to shove, to leave Sable behind and come home. But that wasn’t why she had fallen for Zael in the first place. He wasn’t the sort to run away.

Then he asked her a question they had discussed before, but plans were changing now. Although she’d still be in the guard.

What will she be doing? Everleigh realized that when she heard Marianne’s words, the first person she had wanted to tell was Zael. It was a compliment(Marianne’s proposal and job offer), wasn’t it? Normally it would be something to keep to herself and normally she would want to hide it away from others just in case it could be used against her.

Maybe her visit had been a little selfish after all. At the same time, there was no opinion she wanted to hear more than Zael’s. Do you think I’ll make a good proctor? Should someone like me even try to be a proctor? Do I deserve to be a proctor? Have I suffered enough for this opportunity? If I accept the offer, can I save the others from going through what we went through? Will this atone for my hesitation? If I become a proctor will you view me differently— would you still want me? What if I said ‘no’ and followed you all around Arethil to find Kimble?

“Zael, do you think I am a fair person?” She asked, looking deep into his lonesome blue eye. Everleigh didn’t think Zael to be a liar, but she wanted to remember his answer and his face when he replied. Even if he said no.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

If it were any other time, he might have grinned and laughed at the question. But the occasion had his reaction tempered down. So no grins or laughs, and maybe only just the ghost of a smile. His head did rock back slightly though, as if the question were unexpected by virtue of it, in his opinion, not very much needing to be asked in the first place.

"Fair? Who the hell accused you of that? You play to win, Ever."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A wry smile appeared. He was right, there was no denying that she had always done anything and everything it took to win. Everleigh’s moral compass was skewed, twisted like briar brambles that were quick to ensnare anything that wasn’t in her best interest. She had been poisoned in her youth in the worst way. But Zael, and perhaps their time in Arnim with Miklan, had been an unforeseen antidote. Would she reverse that growth to continue carrying on a harsh tradition?

“I do like winning.” Her lips curved up ever so slightly although there was something deeper being reflected in her eyes. “I’ve been offered a position to help teach. Academy is short on proctors. They’ve brought back Proctor Marianne Goetsch.” She paused, her grip on his hand tightening for a moment. “I think every proctor has their favorite initiates, you know, the ones they liked to abuse the most. The ones they thought would be a challenge to break. Or maybe they just wanted to hurt someone how they had hurt, to watch them get their mind beaten out of them and feel superior.” Everleigh let go of Zael’s hand, realizing that her hand had gone clammy.

She tried to be cool and collected at all times. Marianne had made her that way, and she was certain she’d be disappointed to find out that Everleigh couldn’t regulate her body temperature like before.

“I think I was Proctor Goetsch’s favorite. She liked the really smart kids. She liked digging in our minds. She would make us play games, like we were rats in a maze.” Everleigh traced the two holes in on the side of her middle finger. She would need to get her body pierced again. Her hand went to trace the rune tattooed on the back of her neck, violet like the rest of her as if to make fun of the irreversible changes.

“She was cruel and unusual, and unfortunately creative and extremely intelligent. She understood human behavior as if we were dogs. ‘Course, she could read everyone’s mind as easy as she breathed.” Her smile grew grim. “I’d be teaching with her guidance. Like a substitute, or a student-teacher. Still would be considered joining the guard. Wouldn’t have to be forever.

“I… I know I’m rambling but I suppose I’m asking you, or trying to ask you, if you think I’d make a good proctor? And… do you think I am strong enough to protect the underclassmen from experiencing what we did?”

Zael Castomir