Epilogue

First

Emissary Liostra’s face looked serious as she ascended the staircase whose entrance she had remembered at the end of one of the many halls extending from the lobby of the headmaster’s court. The rising passage was narrow and lit dimly with yellow glow stones nestled into brass sconces. The stones would need to be imbued with more magic soon. Their light was nearly too dim to see the steps before her, but not dim enough for her to concern herself with imbuing them herself.

Eventually, she reached the rustic cedar door at the top, and opened it to reveal a narrow hall that was much less decorated than any that could be found in the first floor. There were no vibrant banners on the walls, or rugs on the floor. And the low ceiling felt uncomfortably close when compared to the cathedral ceilings that were usually found everywhere else in Greidwhen Academy. More brass sconces cradling glow stones attempted to light the hall, but some had died and left the hall’s light unbalanced.

Liostra touched the few dead stones as she passed by them, pouring enough magic in them to at least match the level of the others. The action wasn’t so much out of necessity as it was a rehearsal of good manners. One was always expected to light a stone that had gone out. Such was a lesson she and most others had been taught since childhood. There was even a rhyme for it; one whose melody usually hummed in her mind every time she revived a dead stone. The tune was difficult to entertain at the moment, however. Her thoughts lingered elsewhere; so much so, that she barely realized she was already opening the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall.

The door dragged outward, scraping its bottom edge against the shaggy, crimson carpet inside. The sound of a crackling fireplace in the left wall tickled at Liostra’s ears, and the warm air brushed welcomingly against her skin as she entered the royal looking room. It wasn’t a large room, only a smidge bigger than her own office in the council’s headquarters, but the overwhelming collection of furnishings and ornaments lended that it was a room whose organization was years in the making.

The clank of a tea-cup being set on its plate alerted Liostra, and her eyes met her two associates seated around the desk at the head of the room. Headmaster Falk and Councilor Veletta.

“Ah, Emissary Liostra. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Headmaster Falk said as he lifted the ceramic teapot in front of him and poured a cup for the woman. For once, the hood of his robe was left undrawn, giving a clear display of his not so wrinkled face and curling gray hair which fell to his shoulders. Liostra was surprised. She knew that he wasn’t terribly old, but his handsome complexion and full head of hair were something she’d be hard pressed to find in other men his age.

“Of course,” she replied, taking her seat in the chair beside Veletta’s. “It’s clear that there is much to discuss. I couldn’t even fathom a complete list of actions that need to be considered by the council on my way here.”

“Indeed,” Falk said, sinking back into the cushions of his chair after handing Liostra a cup. “Veletta and I were discussing such, as well.” He splayed his hand towards an open notebook in front of Veletta. Its current page was penned with a bulleted list of items. Liostra made out a few of the entries, and they seemed to match well with some of her own thoughts.

“Don’t think for a second you can change the subject, Falk.” Veletta said, offering a short glance to Liostra. “I’m still quite offended that you withheld who had authored this research. Did you honestly believe I would sabotage the analysis because it was compiled by that magicless boy?”

Falk looked hesitant at Veletta. “It was Thomas’s suggestion that it be kept hidden. Though, I do believe it had some calculated merit on his part. Too many on the board were rooted in their resistance, and they would never have been convinced by someone in the room, no matter how long we debated. They needed the opinion of an objective, third party. Someone unaware of the social complexity and who could give an honest evaluation of the material. It’s no surprise that a pupil of yours was clever enough to surmise all of that and elect you for the role. Clearly his master raised him well.”

Veletta sat back in silence, contemplating Falk’s theory. After a moment her cheeks flushed red, and Liostra wondered if the woman was already drafting an apology for her outburst against Thomas in her head.

“Well, if that is the case. Then I suppose I can drop the matter.”

Falk chuckled, grabbing the teapot to pour himself another cup. Liostra tried to share in the man’s lighthearted manner, but she could only manage an uneasy smile. There was still too much on her mind. Too many unpleasant things to consider.

“Who would have thought the boy would make such a profound contribution back when his enrollment was considered,” Liostra said, softly.

“Well, I somewhat expected interesting things from his presence here,” Falk said. “But to think it would be born out of a friendship with Lorena’s daughter…”

“So that’s who the girl was,” Veletta interrupted. “I found myself reminded of Lorena while looking at her, and not simply because of the ludicrously colored hair. She has the same face. I thought if she let her hair down they would look completely identical.” Veletta smiled, revisiting fond memories from decades ago. “How has her performance been so far?”

The headmaster sat up straight and heaved a deep, hesitant breath. “She is having some difficulty. There were a few… regretful incidents of negligence on her part, and my hand was forced. Fortunately, she’s proven herself in these past few days and has been permitted to remain.”

“Oh my! That would have been devastating for you! To be known as the headmaster who had to expel Lorena’s daughter!” Veletta laughed and nearly spilled her tea while setting it down. “I daresay… you didn’t fudge the outcome, did you?”

Falk looked unpleasant at the crafty, old woman. “Firstly, it’s a tragedy having to expel any student,” Falk said, doing a poor job of hiding his annoyance. “And the board wasn’t shy about their qualms with my involvement either. They claimed I was susceptible to granting favoritism because of her relation to Lorena.”

Veletta calmed her laughter and settled for an amused smile. “Well, I certainly don’t believe you would have influenced the results, Falk. But we all know Lorena was your favorite. She was all of ours’.” She turned her gaze. “You might know, Miss Liostra. You were enrolled in the same year. Were you both well acquainted?”

“We weren’t quite in the same circles of friends. Though, I did pay attention to her performance in the tournament during our second year. She was incredible…”

“Indeed, she was. Her entire troupe was impressive. Although, those two Samphriders of hers were rascals in my class.”

Falk smiled, seeing Veletta’s scrunched face. “Florence and Jillian? I do remember you sending them to Headmaster Mayer’s office one or two dozen times. Her husband confessed that they may have been the reason she retired so early.”

“Is that so? Then perhaps I deserve a thanks for your early promotion.”

Falk chuckled at Veletta’s comment, but his amusement quelled at the sight of Liostra. Her eagerness to get the conversation back on track was clear on her face.

“And now we have a new generation to raise up,” Falk said softly. “The magicless boy, being the most concerning of all.”

Veletta hummed in agreement. “He seems well adjusted. At first glance, anyway.”

“I don’t agree,” Liostra said. “He was demonstrably abrasive. Both with myself and a member of the board.”

Veletta scoffed. “Abrasive? Have you dealt with teenagers before? If that’s all he is then our troubles are small.” Veletta paused, appearing deep in thought. Her eyebrows then raised as she looked at Falk. “How is he with the girl?”

Falk shuffled in his seat, sitting up straight and folding his hands onto the desk. “Gentle… is a way of putting it.”

“Oh my… Love?”

“Who can say? According to his mother, he was quite tender and reserved until recently.”

“It must be friction from the other students,” Liostra said. “Has the student body been educated of his circumstance?”

Falk looked hesitant. “Mr. Leonarch himself requested that nobody be told.”

“And you obliged?” Liostra said, astounded. “He’s only a kid. How can you expect him to make sound decisions for himself?”

“Because such declarations were made before in his home village and it never made a difference.”

Liostra looked stunned as the last word left Falk’s lips, and an uncomfortable silence lingered between everyone.

“The boy’s reasoning is sound to me,” Veletta said, watching as Liostra reclined into her chair without a single word of reply. “At best, his peers might treat him no different than anyone else. But… at worst…”

“A target is painted on him.” Falk finished. “We cannot monitor him every hour of every day, and we cannot effectively discipline every student that antagonizes him.”

“I have no doubt the nobles enrolled here would be the most troublesome should they get involved,” Veletta added. “With a harsh-enough incident, the board would be put in an egregious position. Sacrifice the well-being of a single, magicless student, or lose the contributions and good faith of several wealthy and powerful families.”

“It seems the scales are already teetering towards such an outcome. At least with the Elefrian branches,” Falk said. The caution in his tone unsettled everyone. “Freida Straughtvern hinted as much in our conversation. Perhaps she understood that it was me under that disguise and meant it as a personal message.”

“How harrowing…” Veletta said softly, holding a hand up to her mouth in disbelief. “Are there any such convictions among the Amrians?” Veletta glanced at Liostra who looked uncomfortable upon the question.

“I’d rather not attempt to speak for my people, but I would assume not,” Liostra said, suddenly aware of the distinct, dark hue of her own skin. “There are plenty of Amrians who believe in Greidwhen’s undertaking to unify the three races, and I don’t believe they want to see it fail…” Liostra paused as if a thought hit her, and suddenly her expression became jaded. “Although… I know there are some lines both sides still cannot stomach to see crossed.”

Liostra lowered her gaze and studied the shadows flickering on the desk before her. A quiet sorrow seemed to border in her eyes, and her thoughts flashed to an image of a beautiful woman who looked similar to herself. She was young. Younger than Liostra was now. And her smile was bright and lovely. Liostra imagined a familiar garden for her to stand in, one bathed in sunshine and accompanied by the sound of waves on a distant shore. Soon, however, the image was replaced by something much darker. It was a man. One whose face was obscure and surrounded by darkness. Liostra couldn’t believe she had let herself forget what he looked like. Although, there was one detail of his which she could never forget. She didn’t like to focus on it, but the dark fog curling around him made it impossible to ignore.

The color of the man’s hair was a flawless white.

“Liostra? Liostra?” She heard a voice call faintly. The desperation behind it sounded familiar.

“Aravis.” Falk’s voice rang clear, finally jostling the woman. It wasn’t every day that she was called by her first name while on duty.

“Are you feeling well, dear?” Veletta asked. Liostra wasn’t used to her having such a motherly tone.

“I’m fine…” Liostra said without much assurance.

After a short bit of conversation to collect herself, Liostra managed to reign everyone in from their nostalgia to discuss the finer details of what they began to dub the ‘Inanimport Revelation’. She had no idea how fascinating it would be once they started digging into the greater implications of the matter. As an arm to the council, Liostra had served witness to several discussions on magical theory before, but to participate in a discussion of a real discovery with two masters, one of them the world’s leading spellstician, was a rare treat—one she expected she may never experience again. By the end of it, Liostra had compiled all their thoughts onto paper. It would be an interesting morning tomorrow when she and Veletta walked into the council meeting with these notes in her hand.

“I would love to catch up more, Falk, but I must get back to my office,” Veletta said, standing up and checking her lap for any crumbs from the lemon shortbread Falk had brought out halfway through their session.

“Of course. I would feel sorry if I kept you any later,” Falk smiled, standing up and glancing out the window the face of Greidwhen’s clock tower. “No doubt you’ll be up for another hour or two to gather your own thoughts on this matter,” he laughed.

“You certainly don’t become the best by putting things off.”

Liostra snuck an awkward eyebrow raise as she also stood up from her chair. She had no earnest plan to lay out any more thoughts like Veletta did. The only thing she could think about was the soft bed and silk sheets waiting for her to crawl into at home. She wondered if this would come back to bite her come time for her election as a council member.

“Don’t worry yourself, dear,” Veletta said, reading Liostra too well. “Get some rest. I’ll need to rely on you tomorrow… possibly for the entire week.”

“She always has been reliable. Even when she was a mere student here,” Falk piggybacked off Veletta’s praise.

“You are both too kind,” Liostra said, lowering her head and offering a bow.

Veletta offered one last smile to each of them, and promptly gripped her medallion between her knuckles, and disappeared with in a modest shimmer of gold light.

“Going to do your usual walk through the campus?” Falk asked as Liostra opened the rustic door she had originally entered.

“You know me too well,” she chuckled. She offered him a respectful nod before turning to leave, until a thought brushed her mind and made her pause.

“How is Faris doing?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were going to ask,” Falk said, cheery. “You will be happy to know that she is excelling academically. If she wasn’t so concerned with the tournament this year, her grades would likely be perfect. She has such talent that I’ve heard some call her the Lorena of this generation…”

Liostra smiled faintly, moving her gaze low in thought. “I bet she hates that.”

“It’s probably why she’s so determined to finish the job this year,” Falk said. His expression suddenly became muted. “I suppose it’s also regrettable… from a certain point of view. If the young Miss Hardtvelt wants any chance at reaching the Celestials, she had best make sure it happens this year.”

“Makes you wish we could simply give each of them the thing they want the most,” Liostra said. As the last word left her lip, she couldn’t help but meet Falk’s eyes. If felt like his old age was showing more, though it may have just been the wise gleam in his steady eyes. However, there was something more behind his gaze now. A glint of concern; no doubt for every student he wished could see their dreams through.

“I’ve sought for such a miracle since my earliest days here…” The old headmaster said. He didn’t try at all to hide the regret in his voice. “However, the rules are clear. Even if fate saw fit to give every child the strength to reach the Celestials, only a handful might earn the right to face them…”

“And only one can ever go so far as to defeat them...”