Completed Purple Butterfly on Your Left Shoulder

[Zael Castomir]

Zael lay there for a while, uncharacteristically—for it was his nature to make up his mind quickly and to speak it just as fast—giving Everleigh's questions long and serious thought. Particularly the second one.

His tongue sucked against the back of his teeth.

And he answered the first question succinctly: "You'll be a good Proctor once you get out from under Goetsch's shadow."

Zael never came into any meaningful contact with Proctor Goetsch, but he'd be willing to bet his whole first year's salary in the Guard that Goetsch didn't give a damn about protecting the up and coming Initiates from experiencing what she did. She probably wanted them to experience it, every last little bit.

And now, on that matter.

"Alright," he started slowly, his drawl very much accentuated by it, "are you strong enough to protect the underclassmen? No. No, you're not."

He fully expected her not to like that answer, because hell, he wouldn't like it if he was in her place getting told that. But their Graduation was nothing if not humbling.

"I reckoned I was gonna die in the Blackwood. And I damn well would've too if it weren't for so many other Initiates havin the same idea of rebellin as me. I mean, hell, Ralene and Noel? Seriously? Two of the biggest bootlickers in our class? And fuckin Edric? Mister Dreadlord's Dreadlord himself? Who coulda seen that comin? Lemme tell you, Ever, I got lucky as hell. We got lucky as hell."

He wanted to reach out. To feel the touch of her hand again after he said that. But he let it be.

"Not one of us alone is strong enough. But together? Yeah. Together, I think we got what it takes."

Some few days in the future he'd utter similar words to Kristen Pirian, and it was here and now with Everleigh that marked the genesis of that idea.

"You get any notion that somethin awful might happen here at the Academy, you send us letters. I can't speak for everybody else, but I'll be back here in a heartbeat. You got my word on that, darlin."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

To get out from a proctor’s shadow wasn’t impossible. It would be difficult, and one mistake could cost Everleigh the experience in learning how to teach, but she had never found the easy things in life to be particularly fun.

Zael was right when he knew she didn’t like his answer, of course, what initiate or dreadlord would like to hear such a thing? But it wasn’t because solely the comment on her strength, or lack thereof, or even her having to rely on others.

It was the reminder that Zael was leaving and that their clandestine affections would be pushed aside for much more important things. And with that realization was also the suspicious way Zael was talking.

“You’re talking like you’re some sort of hero.” Everleigh said, a chuckle escaping through her lips before abruptly stopping. She looked at Zael, eyes wide with worry for a moment. She could feel her heartbeat quicken in her chest, warning her of the future. He had already lost a eye, what more of a martyr would he have to be? What more would he have to lose?

Her shoulders slumped as her spirits fell to the dawn of their future. Nothing was going to her plan, and worst: Zael would be without her help. If he were the be the hero, the hero that Miklan had most definitely thought him to be, who would be there for the hero that was set on making things better? He could fall in battle, this could be their last meeting, her last image of him would be him bedridden and—

“Before you go,” Everleigh whispered, “can’t I see you before you go?” Somehow, she felt certain he would leave without a goodbye, sneaking off into the night and never looking back.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Hero? Zael could only grin in disbelief at that. A hero was probably the last thing Zael thought of himself as. He was a rebel, a go-getter, a daredevil, an instigator, a brawler, and sometimes a downright prick (sorry Tinker, sorry Ralene). But a hero? Nah. Save that for somebody like Ollie, somebody who could wear it well like him.

...can't I see you before you go?

Now this was something he definitely needed to make the effort for. So he sat up again, pushing his beleaguered muscles to do so, and reached over to touch Everleigh's hand.

He looked her right in eyes. Smiled.

And said, "Count on it."

Everleigh Ebersol