Fable - Ask What Happens After

[Sable Pembroke]

Why? Why was someone trying to stop Sable? Did they not know who he was? Sable had every right, every reason to check in on his comrade's wellbeing. He'd almost died, after all. But he didn't! Sable could hear him! If he could hear Zael, that meant he was alive, and if he was alive that meant Sable wasn't useless! He'd saved someone, and all the others were killed by the proctors.

By the proctors. By the proctors. Not Sable. It wasn't his fault. The proctors had killed them. Not Sable. And they almost killed Zael, but Sable stopped them. It was different this time. It wasn't like before, it wasn't like with I̴̧̜̹͑̀̕s̶͉̜̺̘͋̈́̚Ả̵̗̪͠-̸̝́̊-̴͔̪̰̆

Sable, stop. Look at me.

...What?...What was...?

The initiate froze, halting himself from continuing to try to push past the infirmary staff. He was in a cold sweat, breathing heavy, head pounding. Focus returned to him as his eyes met Ralene's.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm--I'm with you." Sable answered her at last, brow furrowing as he regained his senses. He swallowed hard, a dry lump in his throat, before stepping back from the curtained beds. The staff escorted him back, and he sat down heavily in one of the available seats within the space, bewildered.

He'd been so lost that he'd only barely registered Meredith entering the room at all, and even then he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not. The young man cradled his face in his hands, then ran his hands over the top of his head and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I'm better than this."

 

[Zael Castomir]

"You," said Ingrid, "have been a drain on this infirmary's resources. Everyone else either had the courtesy to die or to at least be ambulatory. You should have slacked off more or trained harder so that you could have been neatly in one of those two categories."

Zael's eyes sliced into her, but it was like taking a knife to a granite rock. Ingrid Barlow was practically immune to the glares of Initiates, wholly unperturbed in the slightest. It didn't make her any more or less annoyed by the bothersome things that were her charges. She stood with the air of someone who was untouchable and knew it.

She sighed. "But, here we are. Let's review your treatments."

On she went.

"...magical residue in your blood will need purging, likely the continued cause of your body temperature..."

Cold.

"...staining of the eye is, of course, abnormal. Whether it is related to the magical residue..."

Callous.

"...other eye may not be repairable. That is beyond the scope of what is provided here at..."

The embodiment of the old way in one wretched woman.

"...recommend that you save and use your coin for such an extensive healing treatment. What pittance they give you, at any rate..."

Zael sat up.

"Initiate Castomir, do not be a nuisance. Your body temperature still needs work. Lay back down."

Slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Initiate Castomir," said Ingrid. "You are not clear to leave. Lay back down, or I will summon—"

Zael mustered everything he could into launching himself at Ingrid and throwing a hard straight punch into her face. Down to the infirmary floor they both fell, Zael landing sloppily on top of her. Ingrid's head hit the hard floor with a dull WHAP and her legs jerked and smacked into the bed, a loud and abrupt wooden screech sounding as it slid an inch over.

Zael pushed himself up. He was straddling her, and he could see the ruin of her face after his punch, a crimson blossom from her mouth and a matching red tulip from her nose. In his middle finger he felt one of her teeth embedded into his flesh. And when he punched her again, a groggy, slow, yet powerful enough downward blow, blood in the outline shape of her embedded tooth had cut into her cheek. The tooth had gone clattering across the floor when he drew his fist back up.

Ready to strike again as Ingrid gargled and coughed and meekly raised an arm over her face to shield herself.

 

[Samantha Black]

Ral was so focused on getting Sable back to some semblance of calm and level that she'd passed off Meredith's entrance into the infirmary at her back as just another Nurse coming or going. She didn't even see the redheaded girl while loosening her grip on the larger Initiate and stepping back to let the staff lead him back to his seat. A weary sigh escaped her as she turned, finally, to look back toward the bed now crowded by Nurses and Healers where Davi presently lay. By then, Meredith had already left again.

She moved to join Sable, but she hadn't sat down. Unwilling to leave until Davi found consciousness again and knew he was taken care of, Ralene found herself in a state of twitchy exhaustion. Her body desperately wanted the rest that Noel had been smart enough to claim for her own, but her mind wouldn't let her.

"Everything's fucked, it's not your fault..." she hissed quietly back at Sable, brows furrowing over her gaze as she looked at him. Might've been a good moment to offer words of understanding or reassurance, but even Ral was having a hard time seeing the silver lining of this black cloud hanging over their heads. The uncertainty of everything was slowly fraying her nerves and resolve.

And in the back of her mind the nagging thought that she'd killed another Initiate wouldn't leave her alone. All she wanted, so desperately, was to graduate and leave this place to join the ranks of the Anirian Knights. To never look back here again. Now she feared that she might be looking at a future behind bars within the confines of a magic nullifying collar.

It was all a bit much, and she heaved a frustrated sigh, "Somethings gatta give-"

An explosion of chaos from the far end of the infirmary cut her short as a young Nurse came running up past their curtained areas, "Call security, he's after Ingrid!"

Ralene exchanged a short look with Sable and immediately turned on her heel to look down the row of curtains to the triage area where she'd left Zael with the Healers the night prior. There he was, hovering just half out of his room atop the old biddy, poising himself to strike. Everyone knew that wretch deserved it but like hell was this one more thing needed on Zael's record against him.

"Zael!" Ral booked it down the aisle, shoving past a waiting medical trolley to try and reach him before the next fist landed, "Stop!"

She didn't wait to see if he would, skidding to a stop beside them, her hands moved to try and grab Zael around the middle to pull him off the old woman, "Sable get her away from him!"

 

[Sable Pembroke]

Everythings fucked, its not your fault...

"Yeah, well...no one needs me contributing to that fact right now." Sable mumbled, folding his arms across his chest. He didn't expect anything extra after. She'd managed to snap him out of his little episode and he was grateful enough for that.

Ralene had her own problems to focus on. Sure, Sable may have smashed in a proctor's skull, but that was Innes. Last Sable had heard he'd recovered and ran off before the guard had even arrived at the scene. Ral had actually killed someone. Thankfully that someone was Charon, a weight off of many at the Academy's shoulders to be sure, but a kill was still a kill, and that meant trouble in a post-revolution Vel Anir.

Abruptly, Ralene was cut off by the faint *smack* of a fist hitting flesh, then thudding as bodies hit the ground. Then it was the same rush of staff as they struggled to handle the new problem in the room. Sable shared that same brief moment of decision with Ral before taking off behind her, hot on her heels.

Sable get her away from him!

Ral didn't need tell Sable twice, nor indeed the first time. He had dove in right alongside her, straining what strength he could muster to get the two apart. Zael was sluggish and wounded, but an initiate of Vel Anir's finest he remained. A radiant shield sparked into being before Zael could bring his fist down atop the old bat's face again, a sound like a bird striking a window resonating through the air as Zael's punch was intercepted by the barrier.
"ZAEL," Sable tried to shout and immediately regretted it, his vocal chords still shot from before. His next words were rasped out as he pulled the barely conscious body of Ingrid aside: "Take it out--on the people--that deserve it!"

 

[Davi]

The healers who had been assigned to Davi worked with single-minded focus. Ghastly burns that were deep enough to reveal tissue and bone slowly rebuilt into pink and smooth newly grown skin, cuts were stitched unless so deep as they needed magic to stem the flow of blood. As his lungs stopped filling with blood Davi's breath became less laboured and more the gentle whisper of a person deep in sleep. The creases of agony that had lined his face even unconscious now smoothed. He could have - would have - continued on in this final rest had it not been for the chaos that exploded.

The healers besides him shrieked as tables and beds were shoved aside and their colleague went crashing to the ground. Davi was all but forgotten as they rushed forward to pull the other woman out from under Zael and begin immediate life-saving magic. Groggily he opened his eyes and turned his head towards the noise. Through the thin curtain that had separated him from Zael's bed he saw the shadow figures of Ral and Sable attempting to wrestle someone back to bed.

With a grimace he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, tugging a sheet with him to wrap around his cold shoulders, before blearily pushing the curtain aside to reveal the almost comical scene of Zael all but being carried back to bed by Ral and Sable. He glanced down briefly at the blood he had stepped into barefooted then back to the little band of initiates.

"You are quite literally making enough noise to raise the dead."

 

[Tobias Pirian]

While Ronan's sudden intrusion was certainly unexpected, but not enough to shake Lord Tobias. A polite nod was offered as the archon of the republic entered and said his piece. Another nod was all the reaction the noble made to acknowledge the headmaster acceptance of the strong-arming he was currently receiving.

Predictably, Elise then began to make her move. With a concord between the lot of those present, it was only natural that a woman so notoriously ambitious would be hasty to make a play. Some behaviors ran in the family, it seemed.

"While I can't condone undercutting the Assembly, I do agree that the Academy cannot go without leadership. There must at least be a stand-in." Tobias submitted, no audible change in his tone.

I propose Evangeline DAmour.

For the first time, something in this meeting gave Tobias pause. Such a pick from the young head of House Luana was...surprising, to say the least. The Pirian lord cocked a curious eyebrow at Jiya overtop his spectacles before adjusting the things and speaking up once more.
"I must concur with Lady Luana. I've known Miss D'Amour for the better part of a decade. There isn't a soul I can think of that better exemplifies everything this Academy should be."

Tobias cast a sidelong glance at Elise and Aisling, the latter of whom he assumed was only here to lend credence to anything Virak's matron might propose. The Pirian noble guessed that Elise would not agree with this decision; he would be more concerned if she did. Unfortunately she had already turned this affair into part of her little game, and that meant everyone else would have to play or risk ceding the field to the Baroness.
"What it always should have been."

 

[Liliana]

"Mm." Liliana intoned softly. She had been listening to the both of them carefully, but in truth most of her attention had been on the Guardsmen across the courtyard.

Using her magic at a distance was taxing, and far more difficult than if she'd been up close. Yet as the man stepped she could see the compulsion setting in. A stutter in his step, a double take in her direction, it was all she needed to know.

A small smile slipped on her lips. "You do have quite a few arrangements to make, Alistair."

She said knowingly.

"If you require any assistance, do let me know." Liliana looked towards the other Noble, smiling. "I intend to join the reserves as well."

For a second there was a pause, and then she continued. "And I suggest you do the same Trix."

Slowly she stood. "Your talents would be utterly wasted serving under some fat peasant."

"And besides." Liliana said with a smile. "There's other ways to make sure Vel Anir stays strong."

There was no magic, no weave, just a simple truth. "I'll see to that."

 

[Zael Castomir]

A fist struck Sable's barrier. Slid down it some.

Then from behind arms coiled around his waist. Ralene. Pulling him back. Zael was in little condition to offer much resistance. So pulled back he was, torso against Ralene and legs splayed out on the floor before him.

"Get off of me," Zael said, his voice not booming with rage, but low and level. Certain. Heavy breaths hissed in and out of his nose. His eyes were locked onto Head Nurse Ingrid's bloodied face. She moaned in a dull agony and rolled vacantly over onto one side.

Sable pulled her away. Far out of reach.

"She does deserve it." There was a calm defiance in his tone. "Every last one of em does."

Sable Pembroke Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Not knowing just what wounds were where, exactly, Ral for one of the very few times in her life found herself trying to be careful as she manhandled her fellow Initiate off his target. Strong arms wrapped around Zael, one crossing his chest diagonally and locking onto his shoulder while the other locked onto her own forearm, Ralene braced for an inevitable struggle that didn't come.

Yet.

Zael's quiet words were disturbing for someone who was so accustomed to his loudness, but not enough to move Ralene to letting go.

"No," she replied back in her own flat tone, her eyes catching the movement to their right as Davi appeared. She almost wished he hadn't - he wasn't in any condition to be caught in the cross fire if Zael decided to lose it.

"Wotcher," Ral said to Davi as she watched the other staff members pile in to Ingrid's aid. A warning to keep his wits about him.

"It's out of our hands now," the hand capped on his shoulder gave it a squeeze, "the Guard and half the Noble house heads are here chewing out the Headmaster and rounding up the rogues." Hard not to overhear the nurses and healers gossip as they worked on the wounded students. The grapevine was just as strong among the staff as it was among the students.

"We'll get this bitch away from you and find someone else to help." Nobody liked Ingrid and Ralene was pretty sure Ingrid didn't like any of them, either. But that didn't mean Zael's actions against her wouldn't come with consequences from the higher powers.

"We're here now, Zee. We'll stay with you. No one is going to make us leave - isn't that right Sable?"

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“I’m sorry,” the sarcasm was dripping off her tongue like venom. “Next time I’ll just get an adult, is that better?”

“For shit sake’s, Ebersol,” Proctor Palahniuk cursed, exasperated and throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not sure what’s more natural for you at this point: lying or breathing?” Neither of them spoke, and the guardsman in the room cleared his throat loudly. Everleigh could practically hear the phlegm reverberating. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Sure.”

“I am. What did I tell you? You’re not in trouble. We just want to undestand—“

“Understand what? I was fighting for my life, Proctor. There’s nothing more to understand. I didn’t feel like dying, yet.”

“If you were fighting for your life then you would have ran. You wouldn’t have tried to help Zael. You’re not suited for that. So we want to understand why you fought alongside him when you’ve clearly stated plenty of times that you were ready to kill a classmate for the ‘graduation’ if it meant you’d live. Zael was gravely injured at the point you decided to intervene.”

Everleigh narrowed her eyes Palahniuk. Out of all the proctors, it had to be him, didn’t it? The one constantly reminding her what her strengths were, which dimmed in comparison to mountain-sized weaknesses. The guardsman cleared his throat once again as if the silence was making him uncomfortable.

“Zael is a good fighter. Made more sense to keep him alive and distract the proctors more. Even after Kimble’s attack he was still standing and able to use magic.” Everleigh took the glass of juice that had been set before her minutes ago. While she had managed to walk away from the scene, the blood loss caught up to her soon after. Kalix had his hands full on the way back to the academy. And despite having her wounds sealed up just enough, she was still lethargic and recovering.

Proctor Palahniuk thought juice would be a good way to aid her recovery.

“Ebersol,” the proctor said softly after he had written down her words again. He had pages at this point, and not just from Everleigh but other students. “You make me wish Marianne was still here, sometimes.”

“Good thing she’s dead. Or exiled or whatever.”

“Is that what you think?” The way he smiled got on her nerves, but still, she kept her face unflappable.

“After the revolution she didn’t show her face here so… not hard to assume what happened to her.” The proctor leaned back in his chair.

“Marianne Goetsch is my cousin.” Everleigh picked up quickly on his use of present tense. So, she wasn’t dead. Shame. “She went on leave because she was pregnant, initiate. She’s enjoying motherhood and has decided to be in the reserves since her husband is away on business quite often. If everything goes well, my nephew should be a big brother in a few months. She’s hoping for a little girl.” Everleigh’s poker face broke, and she looked at proctor p incredously. He ruffled around his desk and then found a small painting, showing Everleigh a happy family of three: the boy was blonde and looked like a cherub nestled safely in his mother’s arms as she held him close to her bosom. “Ebersol, what was the first thought that crossed your mind?”

“What are you asking for exactly?” Everleigh questioned back, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms rise up. Gooseflesh quickly began to travel along her skin.

“I’m asking what you thought when you found out Marianne is living a happy life.” Another pause. “You seemed shocked. Or rather… you seemed upset.”

“I thought nothing.” Everleigh said. The door opened. Light footsteps. Everleigh didn’t turn around, didn’t need to. She knew those footsteps, could never forget how they sounded after years upon years of spending time below in the dungeons.

“You’re a horrible liar nowadays, Evie.” Marianne. The mind-reader. The proctor that made Everleigh who she was today. “You thought about shoving my son’s face into shit, thought about killing him so you could watch my face and see if I could beg for your forgiveness. Thought about poisoning me so I could miscarry and see a misshapen cadaver.” She stood beside Palahniuk, and stared at Everleigh hard. She was back in uniform, and it made it so Everleigh couldn’t discern whether she was pregnant as Proctor Palahniuk had said. “And that’s the reason why no one here understands why you decided to save Zael. You’re very much attuned to the old academy: you’re a killer more than you are a life-saver.” The sunlight from the window created a golden halo around Marianne’s head, but Everleigh knew better. The blonde woman was far from a angel, and she doubted motherhood could change her so easily.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair nodded, not letting his face show anything for Liliana. He did not need to be reminded what she held over him, more specifically what event she knowingly spoke of.

"I'll be sure to call on you if needed, which is more than likely. House Krixus is in dire need of an overhaul for beurocratic purposes."

He could not help but focus on that last comment, though. It sounded like a promise, but also incredibly more like a threat.

"Be careful with whatever moves you decide to make, Liliana. The politics of Vel Anir will only continue to grow dangerous...If you need any assistance then you know where to find me."

He finally got to his feet and pursed his lips as he looked around the grounds.

"I don't like this. I know some of us are in the infirmary, but it feels like we lose control of the situation the more we are all separated." He said as he referred to their class of Dreadlords. After everything they had been through, they were the only ones he cared for at the moment.

Liliana Trix

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline glanced up as Kalix silently entered her office, neither surprised nor bothered that he'd entered unannounced and uninvited. Perhaps more than any other student excluding Kristen, Proctor D'Amour's door was always open to him. It was the least she could do after their ordeal with the noble cavalcade in the weeks prior, and even more so now that Kalix had been involved with the so-called "graduation."

The once-Dreadlord tucked the document she'd been going over back into its folder and stared at the sullen and scarred young man on the opposite side of her desk.
"Care to talk about it, Kalix?" She asked him softly. She didn't need to specify what. They both knew. Why else would he have wandered in? What other storm of thought could be churning behind those gloomy eyes?

She leaned towards him, as if to offer the initiate her full attention.

 

[Sable Pembroke]

The ward faded as Ingrid was shuffled away by the staff. More barked orders filled the space, more urgent cries for aid for the newest patient at the infirmary. As Zael, Ralene, and Sable were left to pant and wonder what further repercussions might come, Sable got it. Ingrid, much like every proctor that had put them in that horrid situation, represented everything that was still wrong with the Academy. Too caught up in the old ways, too severed from their own emotions to ever change.

Sable couldn't find a reason to disagree with Zael. He knew inherently that his battering of Ingrid was wrong; she was essentially a civilian, with no combat training or offensive magic, and even in his current state Zael was still very much a fledgling Dreadlord. The young titan just couldn't will himself to verbalize that right now, or do anything beyond furrow his brow and lock eyes with the floor. Davi's annoyance with the scuffle went unheard by Sable as he tried to make some sense of what the Academy really was.

Ralene pulled him back once again, though.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm not going anywhere," Sable smiled weakly through the dull pain and exhaustion, a glimmer of his former self trying to shine through. "I swore I'd make sure you were okay Zael, so you're stuck with me until I think you are."

 

[Aisling Weiroon]

"Evangeline?" She'd known the name and she'd read dossiers on every Proctor during her voyage to the academy. There were ties to House Pirian, that much was true, but there were certainly a fair number of worse choices. "This is her first year as a Proctor, correct?"

The second question was not, actually, a question. Inexperience here could be a problem although it also could be a blessing given the nature of the old academy and the republic's vision of building it anew.

Aisling tapped her fingers upon the wood as her lips twisted in concentration. "Are there any other viable candidates? We'd only do ourselves, and the initiates, a disservice not to consider all of our options."

Evangeline likely hadn't been 'spoiled' by the old ways of the academy and given her record it seemed unlikely that she even could be led towards some of the impropriety of the old ways. "However, I don't have any major objections to her if there aren't any other suitable replacements."

 

[Musah]

Hmm, Evangeline, he had read reports on her. One of Pirian's prodigies, if his memory served him correctly...There were worse choices, but at the same time, there were better.

Ronan tapped his fingers to some unknown beat against the table. He had a faraway look in his eyes before zoning back into the conversations.

"I don't doubt her abilities as a Dreadlord. However, there will be questions. She was a Proctor at the school when this incident occurred. Why wasn't she aware of such a threat? There may also be questions of her independence from the great noble houses, especially Pirian..."

This time, Ronan had been speaking while looking out a window that looked over the Academy. He turned back to the other members of this small council.

"There is a growing concern that the Academy is being turned into a tool to produce a specific breed of Dreadlord for the Republic, while I am sure the reverse of that would be that it use to produce a specific breed for the nobility. It stands to reason that Academy requires a certain level of strength to maintain independence from both sides...I can not think of a better showing of strength than to have the Headmaster of the Academy be an archon. For that reason, I would like to offer up my name."

Ronan had been rather reserved in his political moves ever since the revolution. He had taken it as a time to get a feel for the new arena that their battle would be waged. This recent incident was proof to him that he needed to stop sitting on the sidelines. Gilram now had a small army, and he would surely be coming for Vel Anir.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise's face remained utterly impassive as Jiya practically jumped to suggest Evangeline D'amour, though inwardly she coudn't help but smile. Her fingers sat resting in her lap, thumbs idly tapping against one another as the conversation went around the room.

Tobias, of course, supported the notion. There was absolutely no surprise there, Elise would have expected as much. She offered him a quick smile as he finished his word, then slowly turned towards the others that spoke. Her gaze lingered on Aisling as she began to cast her doubts, and then fell on Ronan as he added in his own card.

"A valid point, Archon." Elise mused, turning to the others. "She is a poisoned apple, Tobias. I have no doubt of the girls aptitude, but word will spread and the tide will turn quickly against her. One incident, and she will be utterly ruined."

She then turned her attention to the Dreadlord. "But, the same will be said of you, Ronan."

Elise frowned ever so slightly.

"You may not have been here, but it was an Archon that took the children. Another who tore down a city. Your very title now holds suspicion." She shook her head, and slowly regarded the rest of the room. "So, I propose an alternative."

Her gaze flickered between the members of the council, lingering on two in particular. "Jiya, Aisling, you remember Madame Lévesque? Of Aurel Academy."

Beatrix Lévesque had been headmistress of Aurel Academy for nearly thirty years now. A strong handed woman, though notoriously fair. She had helped in the raising of more than two generations of powerful nobles and worthy commoners who had attended her school. "She is independent. Her school has taken donations from nearly every House and even the Royal Family. She has taken in peasants, orphans, even foreigners."

"You can't be serious she's a school teacher-"​

"I am not proposing she take over completely. There must be advisors of course, perhaps even the good Archon and Proctor D'amour. With final word landing to her hand." Elise said, cutting off the General. "With all due respect, the Dreadlords have had four hundred years to lead themselves, the Guard had..."

She glanced at the former Headmaster, then continued. "Perhaps it is time we allow someone experienced in actually teaching children to try."

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael regarded Sable for a moment. A level gaze with his sole eye. Then a small shine of gratitude. Followed by a darkening of preemptive apology.

With no small effort he turned his head to the left, looking back at Ralene as much as he was able. And then he was saying it before he could stop himself.

"How many did you kill Ral."

In his eye was a cutting look. He wasn't talking about Proctors during graduation.

"How many times did you do exactly what they told you to do?"

He knew it was completely unfair for him to say that. Even by his own admission, Zael had been more than ready to kill in order to graduate under the old way; he wasn't going to die here, and so he had long ago set his mind on living. He didn't get to claim any especial goodness over her.

Yet still he felt how he felt. Ralene probably had sent the most young men and women, fellow Initiates all, to an early grave. Maybe it was the most, if all things were to be revealed. Here he was, tearing himself up that he had to kill Sieglilly, and there Ralene was, as cold as Ingrid Barlow, regretting not a damn one, so far as Zael could tell.

Unfair of him. Hypocritical of him. Judgmental of him, even when he knew what they all had gone through. What they all had to do to survive.

Yet the thought remained.

What makes her think she's one of us? What makes her any different from Proctor Kimble?

Ralene Sable Pembroke

 

[Samantha Black]

With no verbal confirmation that he'd relent, Ralene maintained her hold on Zael, waiting for Ingrid's battered self to be carted away. Though she'd worked alongside him on a handful of missions, what Ralene knew of Zael was scant aside from the fact that he was a bit bullheaded and foolish. Couldn't fault his bravado, knew the strength of his right hook and the heat of his fire magic.

That he was torn up about killing a student yesterday - something Ralene was not even aware of - completely escaped her.

Wasn't that just the way of things between the Initiates, though? They'd only had a year to step back from what they'd known of kill or be killed and learn to be ...friends. Many of them were still struggling with it, Ralene included. But his question struck a chord and Ral's gaze shifted to look back at him with a glint of wariness. The line of her jaw drew taut along her cheeks and her brows furrowed.

"I did what I had to survive," she'd not dignify his question with a number, "we all did."

Her gaze left his, flickering to Sable and then up to Davi, a frown etching itself deep into her expression. There was confusion next.

"Why does this have anything to do with me?"

 

[Kalix]

Kalix, prompted by Evangeline’s kind words, looked up. His emotions were clearly written on his face, and despite never being inward, Kalix opened his mouth to speak.

“You know when you told me about when you graduated?” Kalix couldn’t quite look Evangeline in her blue eyes, and his golden gaze lingered to the few sparse items that could actually be found on her desk. He looked at her hands, the papers she had just been reading, and even to the wall behind her. “I tried to picture what it would be like to go up someone stronger than me. So I thought, yanno, Edric, right?” He paused for a moment, trying to figure out his feelings and the words that struggled to come out from his tight throat.

“But it didn’t really work. So I thought about Lys, and when he was in the tower and how I snuck in, but really, I think the proctors purposefully allowed us to sneak inside so we’d know what would be expected of us. I forget the kid Lysander fought but… it didn’t matter if Lys lived. I wonder how he killed him.” A hand went up push his dark locks out of his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt— well, I don’t want to say whenever I’ve been in a fight I felt hopeful, maybe confident. But I don’t think I ever felt so close to death and hoping that some sort of divine intervention happened or wishing… wishing someone would show me mercy and not make me suffer. It’s the first time I thought, like, yanno, it wasn’t fair?” Proctor Novgorodoff’s words came to the forefront of Kalix’s mind, only the weak thought about fairness.

Evangeline

 

[Sable Pembroke]

Sable recognized that brief glimmer in Zael's eye. There was some comfort in that look. Confirmation that he'd done something right. With a soft exhale, he gave Zael a short nod of acknowledgment. What came after that look, though, took things far into a different direction.

"Zael, that's enough..." He found the words falling from his lips, but...they lacked conviction, lacked Sable's usual bluster. He caught Ralene's glance and saw the doubt written on her face, and all he could remember was her stony glare and tone while they sat in the downpour beyond the walls of Wissburg.

"We can't afford to be honorable."​

Clarity. It was a horrible thing to insinuate, but Sable had witnessed it first hand. One could easily draw that parallel between the adherents to the old ways and Ralene's apparent code of conduct. She shirked what she viewed as extraneous, spoke harshly and coldly.

...but was that really who she was? Just another heartless cog in the Anirian machine? Sable cast his gaze to the floor. That couldn't be, could it? And...was he, or Davi, or Zael, or anyone else here any better?

 

[Jiya Luana]

Jiya couldn't help the grimace that twisted her lips. Yes, she remembered the horrible woman. Fair but firm was how her mother had described her but Jiya had had a few choice other words. A few of those around the table seemed to hold similar memories to the young Luana Head by their similar expressions. Of course, personal experiences were no reason not to an elect someone who was, on paper, very good at their job and she refused to be like her parents who would have in that moment attempted to bribe others to her side.

No doubt a tactic the woman opposite her planned on doing anyway.

She turned her attention to the General's stony face.

"In the ethos of our new Republic, I suggest the three candidates campaign for it. Tell us in their own words what their vision is for the Academy. In a month, the board votes," it was the fairest thing she could think of and perhaps, with Pirian and Luana working together, they might convince enough people of D'Armour's capabilities.

 

[Davi]

"What does it matter? They're still dead. Gone."

Davi's voice was flat but for those that knew him better they might detect that razor sharp hint of anger. Perhaps it was because he felt a certain amount of debt to Ralene that he felt the need to defend her. Or maybe it was because Zael was merely putting voice to several of his own midnight thoughts. Either way, Davi was tired of the feelings of guilt and expectation tugging him down like chains. What had happened was almost vindication. He had known the torture during his time here would not end with just a handshake and a certificate. It gave the lives lost almost... purpose.

"Pointing fingers doesn't bring them back. Getting angry doesn't bring them back. All it does it fuck you up more and can you help anyone when you're wallowing in your own guilt?" his punctuating snort showed exactly what he thought the answer to that question was.

"Let him go. If he wants to waste these emotions on just hurting more people, let him. I'm going to get some food," and pants, but probably food first. "And then I'm going to figure out how we can help the next senior Initiates from turning out a little less fucked up than us."

Gathering his sheet with as much dignity as a man could, Davi turned and made for the door.

 

[Trix]

The Reserves, perhaps. Or maybe something more permanent. Her house did not need her so much now Jiyas succession was more secure with Maz and Houri then the young twins. House Luana was looking for stronger and Trix's ambitions had changed.

"Well sitting round here waiting isn't helping," Trix commented after Alistairs observation. "But I don't want to sit in the infirmary either. In fact, I'm starving," she announced abruptly and chambered out of the fountain.

"Let's grab some food and take it to the others, infirmery food is shit. Nobody wants to eat porridge when you're sick. I'm sure we could convince Barbara to cook us some bacon and eggs," Barbara seemed to not realise she was cooking for magical children and treated them all as a grandmother might her child which had quickly made her a firm favourite in the Academy.

 

[Musah]

Ronan grumbled to voice his displeasure, except when he grumbled the entire room vibrated with unease. He had hoped Elise would be more on his side to counteract those voicing support for Evangeline, but her idea had been even worse.

The one worry Ronan actually had for the Academy was that it was weakening. While the nobles and the Republic fought over the Dreadlords they were creating cracks in the foundation.

"I would rather have the Dreadlord pup than the noble hag...Elise, if you wish to sow distrust based solely on my title then that would remove trust for not only every Archon, but every Dreadlord to do any job in this republic given that this revolution was fought by Dreadlords."

To be compared to that bastard Gilram, he wasn't even an archon anymore. Being compared to such dirt was enough to make anyone dirt. He brought a horrible stain to the name of archon, but to many people forget that without the archons this city would not last a year. They were the true power of this city.

 

[Zael Castomir]

He only looked at Ralene for a moment longer. Yeah, that was enough.

"Let me go."

There was no struggle to escape, only a relaxation of his body. He'd barely the strength to deliver another worthwhile punch to Ingrid if she were even still here. Couldn't have been a struggle even if he wanted one.

What Zael did want was to be free of Ralene's grasp. In that moment he found himself repulsed by her very touch. He just couldn't bring himself to accept what he considered to be her poor answer. To trust her. Her arms, her fingers, they might as well have been made from pure ice. Zael had said not so long ago that, under the old way, it was the ultimate rebellion to be a decent human being.

And Ral was no such rebel.

Ralene Sable Pembroke