I threw the book down in frustration. I had already learned more herb names at the tower than the entire book contained, and was just pretending to study in my room to make it appear that I was diligent. Studying wasn’t working. I was meeting with my brother today, and I knew, just knew, he was going to ask me how I was doing at the academy.

I just didn’t want to tell him the truth. My grades were fine. I wasn’t learning anything new, but all the school’s masters were impressed. ‘The next Leslie’ they called me. As if that bossy girl could compare to me. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the other students just didn’t like me.

I wasn’t accepted by any of the girls from nobility because they knew I was an orphan. Clarista went out of her way to remind me I was every single day. I wasn’t accepted by the common girls because they thought I was putting on airs. As if wanting to act politely was above my station. The boys didn’t like me. Sure, some ogled, but they were the ones who ogled every girl.

I was alone here. At the orphanage, I had friends. Even at the tower, I was accepted for who I was. Yet, I can’t even eat in the dining hall without students moving their seats away from me. They treated me like a disease! But who could I tell? If I told any of the masters or my brother about it, that would only make it worse.

If I told dad, who knew what he would do? I pictured him flying over the Arcanum and blasting it to bits with fire. I knew he wouldn’t go that far, but I hoped he would be just as upset about my rejection as I am. If only I could tell him. I didn’t want to let him down. They weren’t belittling me for anything he taught me, but for how I acted.

I reached for the scroll on my desk, an easy reach from the bed. My room was so small here compared to the tower that I felt cramped. The scroll, dad’s last message to me, made me smile. I could just picture him wagging his finger at me at the beginning.

Greetings, Lilly, Pupil and Student,

As I have instructed before, please do not refer to me as your father in our correspondence. That is not the correct form of address. While I may consider you in some of the ways a father might, I would be remiss not to continue your education however possible. This includes proper titles and address. As such, address me as Preceptor Fargus in your missives until you graduate.

It pleases me greatly that you are advancing so well through the academy’s teachings. You are making me very proud by advancing your education, and I expect you to be a great mage in the near future. I hope you retain your enthusiasm for exploring magic in the world around you and endeavor to complete all assigned work even if the subject is something you have already built a foundation upon.

I apologize for the manner in which Master Edwards spoke to you on his behalf. The man is a twit and always has been. That he doesn’t understand the fundamentals of air currents and pressures is just an example of his failings. His treatise on the use of bird feet to mitigate the mana expenditure of air spells was met with wide ridicule throughout the community, ridicule he accurately blames me for. This is why he was relegated to solely instruct on base spells to new students and precluded from research opportunities.

That he uses his position over you to strike back at me for a slight from twenty years ago only shows his pettiness and ineptitude. I would disregard his behavior unless it hinders your education. Should it reach that point, please consult with one of the [Administrators] there to request a knowledge testing for advancement.

Chelsea, Rolf, and the rest send their regards. You are missed here, and we all eagerly await your return in two years upon completion of your studies.

Cordially,

Preceptor Nemon Fargus

I smiled as I read it, before rolling it up and putting it in my satchel. I checked the mirror for a second look at my hair and the matching yellow dress that would make me stand out among the blue buildings of Sena City. It wasn’t as fancy as I was used to wearing, but it wouldn’t look like I was putting on airs either. I was combing my hair for the third time when Bonnie, the academy’s caretaker, came to let me know Walker had arrived.

I met him in the courtyard outside the dormitory, and he looked very sharp in his red warmage robes. I ignored the other students that had gathered around to gossip to give my brother a hug. There were no classes today, and I was determined to enjoy myself for once this month.

“You look good, Walker! The robe suits you,” I said with a smile. He turned and offered his arm, which I skipped up to take.

“They call it a battlerobe,” he said with a grin.

His voice had gotten deeper, and his arms were more muscled than before. Could a few months do that to a person? “A battlerobe? I’ll remember that.”

We made small talk as we walked. I told him about the masters that were teaching me, and he told me how warmage training went.

“Why didn’t master come to your graduation? I thought they would have loved to see him!” I asked offhandedly. When Walker stopped walking, I turned away from watching the street to look back at him. His face told me everything.

“You didn’t tell him when you were graduating, did you?” I should have known. I bet he forgot.

Walker rubbed the back of his head and cringed, “Well…”

I huffed, “You did write him, didn’t you? Or did you forget that too?”

“No! No, I wrote him. I just may have forgotten to tell him when I was graduating. I’m sure he would have been too busy—”

“Nope!” I shook my head, and then pulled his arm to start walking again, “You know master Nemon would have come. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss it. I don’t know why you wouldn’t think to invite him.”

I opened my mouth to keep explaining why it was important, but something caught my eye, “Tyrel?” I asked, uncertainly. There, sitting at the entrance to an alley was a boy that had been in the orphanage with us. A young man now, but he looked so much smaller than before. Wearing dirty, disheveled clothes, and stinking of ale, Tyrel was nothing like the happy boy I remembered.

He looked up, his eyes going back and forth between me and Walker before recognition lit them up, He gave a short, bark of a laugh, full of mockery before his face twisted, “Well if it isn’t our very own princess, eh? Come to kick me, too? Some of us didn’t get adopted. Some of us got kicked out on our own. And guess what? I’m better for it!”

He pressed his hand against a wall and struggled to stand before falling back on his rear.

I was shocked that this was what he had become. I covered my mouth in surprise, but when he fell, I called out, “Tyrel! Are you—are you okay?”

Tyrel’s brown hair covered his face, so oily and dirty it looked wet, but he pushed it aside to spit at my feet, “Don’t you worry about me, eh, princess. Trash like me ain’t worth your time.”

“Ma’am, is this man bothering you?” A guard’s voice cut in.

“No, no he’s not,” I said and shook my head. I wasn’t sure where all the anger Tyrel had for me came from, but that didn’t mean I was angry back. I didn’t want to see anything happen to him. I didn’t even turn to look at the guard, my eyes were still watching as Tyrel’s face went to a more guarded expression.

“This one has been causing problems of late. We’ll take him in, just to be sure,” the guard spoke.

“I don’t think that’s needed,” Walker answered him.

It took a few seconds for the guard’s words to get through to me, but when they did, I turned and shouted, “No!”

Then when I saw both the guard’s and my brother’s surprised faced, I realized I had shouted. Softer, I kept going, “I mean no, this man, he’s—he’s our cousin. We thought he was lost as a child. His parents, his parents were in an accident you see.” I spoke quickly, but soon realized that the guard wasn’t alone, but with two others and none had expressions that said they believed me.

“Ma’am, unless you are of noble birth, then we’ll be taking him in,” the foremost guard said. He was a heavy-set man, shorter than my brother but nearly an inch taller than me. His face was round, but the chin and eyes were familiar.

I looked towards my brother, but he shook his head. I nervously looked around, as I came to a decision, “Well, we are of noble birth, but you see, we must keep it a secret. A family secret, if you understand.”

My brother rolled his eyes, but luckily it was from an angle that the guards couldn’t see. The guards didn’t seem to believe it either, and moved towards Tyrel, but I stood in their way.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Ma’am, unless you have some proof of your birthright, we’ll be doing our duty,” the guard said, as the other two moved to step around me.

“Wait! Wait, I have proof. Just hold on. Tell them to step back. I’ll show you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone what you see.

“Lilly,” Walker said with a note of caution in his voice.

I reached quickly into my pocket and pulled out Nemon’s scroll. It wasn’t much, and I didn’t know if dad was truly a noble or not, but it was my last hope for making sure Tyrel didn’t get into trouble.

The guard shook his head in disbelief and took the scroll, “You heard her, step back.” He unrolled the scroll with obvious nonchalance, and glanced at it before looking back at me. Then his eyes widened, and he looked back at the scroll intently for a few long quiet moments while we all waited before he rolled it up and handed it back to me.

With a small bow and an apology, he turned and led the other guards away, “Come on boys. Better get going before captain has our heads.”

After they had gone, Tyrel’s bitter voice came from behind us, “I hope you don’t expect thanks for solving a problem you created.”

“Now look here,” I started with my fists on my hips, but Walker just put a hand on my shoulder. Then he reached down to offer his other hand to Tyrel.

“We’re headed to the orphanage to visit. Would you like to join us?”

Tyrel blinked away tears, and then gestured at his clothes, “In this? Like this?”

Walker gave him a smile, “That’s up to you. I’ll pay for a visit to the bathhouse and some clothes, if it would convince you to join us.”

Tyrel mumbled something I didn’t quite hear, but Walker must have because he took the man’s hand and pulled him up.

A few hours later, we were standing behind the orphanage with children sitting around us. Some I recognized, but most I didn’t. Walker had gone first, talking about his life. How he wasn’t adopted but received the scholarship to the Arcanum. How he studied under dad and recently graduated into the army as a warmage.

I talked about how Walker had adopted me, and how dad accepted me. How lucky I felt to have a family. How sad I was to leave the others here. How hard I worked to study and how I felt so alone at the Arcanum. That I didn’t feel like I fit in with anyone but my brother.

Then, Tyrel spoke. His voice was jagged like breaking glass, and he didn’t hold back his anger.

“This morning, I was alone too. Sitting in an alley in a puddle of my own filth. I didn’t get a scholarship. I didn’t get adopted. When I was old enough, I was just told to leave. Three apprenticeships, I failed. The common folks out there—they used me up. I did every little chore they gave me without complaint and when they couldn’t think of another, they kicked me out too.

But there’s something you can learn from me, too. Don’t do what I did. It’s okay to be angry. To be sad and to cry. To feel. I shut out the world because of what happened to me. I should have listened more. Even this morning, I thought Lilly and her brother had come to laugh at my failures. I thought that because I thought they didn’t care. That no one cared. But they did. They do. There are people out there who do care about you, if you let them.

They aren’t the ones handing you a drink, or telling you what to do. They’re the ones pestering you to be better. No, none of us asked to be here. This pain, is ours. But we aren’t alone, even if it feels like that. When you need someone, find those who wanted you to become better and ask for their help.”

Then, surprisingly, he turned to me and Walker, with sad eyes he asked, “If there’s any way you can help me find work, I need it. I need something to do, anything. I’m tired of living like I have. Please.”

I wasn’t certain what to say. I didn’t know anyone that could give him work besides dad, and I didn’t know what would happen if I told him to go and dad said no.

Walker, though, put his hand on Tyrel’s shoulder just like dad would do. With a smile, he answered, “Sure, we’ll help. You said it right, we aren’t alone.”

All three of us were surprised to see the ten guards standing in formation in front of the orphanage when we finally left. Even more surprised, when they all knelt except their captain, who bowed. He looked like the brother of the guard we saw before.

“Lilly Fargus?” He asked after he completed his bow.

Unsure of how best to respond here, I curtseyed back, “How can I help you?”

“I am Knight Felix Shielding the third. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Do you perchance have any orders from our savior?”

“Savior?” I repeated in confusion.

“Erm, the wizard Nemon Fargus, I mean,” he said words like he was uncomfortable using dad’s name, but neither his expression nor his tone said anything but confidence.

“Hmmm,” I answer with a tap on my fingers. I would have stroked a beard like dad does, if I had one. Then I snapped my fingers, “Yes! He did. We were actually on our way to see you currently. This man here, Tyrel, is looking for work and would make a fine addition to your guard if you would train him.”

This didn’t look like the answer the man wanted, but he didn’t say anything, so I kept going, “Surely such a thing is within your capabilities, Knight Shielding?”

“Well, yes, we Shielding are the best guards in the entire Kingdom, so training another guard would be an easy task for—”

“Excellent!” I cut him off, fully adopting my noblewoman’s guise. “I trust there will be no misunderstandings when you train him to be the best guard in the entire city, then. Now please, excuse us for a few moments so we can say our farewells.”

When the guards marched down the street far enough, both Walker and Tyrel turned toward me with questions in their eyes. I scoffed like dad would, “I told you I was a princess, didn’t I?”