ramshackle's finally turned into a heap of rubble. you saw that one coming a long time ago. what you didn't see is the harem of unsavory magicians trying to keep you confined within their dorms. ( <- prev | intermission | to be continued...? -> )
( not exactly dissociation, but detaching from reality (?), h4rassment [Lilia 😒😒], sexual innuendos [still lilia 🙄], dubcon [yes him], breakdowns, implied mind control, malleus gives bad advice to his brother 👍👍, mentioned violenc3, reader has it bad, lots of crying. )
You’re slowly forgetting the look of your home.
There are times when you lie in your bed at Ramshackle, stare up at the rickety ceiling, and marvel at how vastly different it is from your back home. A room that you had lived in since childhood, full of marks from different parts of your childhood, and decorated to make it your own. Living in this grim, run-down shack for months now, you can barely remember what shade of [Color] your walls were, and the view outside your window was a blur to you now.
Now you move from room to room, changing colors and beds and roommates. Your own bedroom was slowly losing its image in your mind.
You also remembered loathing the creaking of the stairs when your family decided to barge into your room to either order you around or just to bother you in general. Now, every time the walls of Ramshackle creaked, you closed your eyes and imagined that it was your sibling on their way to annoy you again. But the other dorms were more maintained, no creaks or drafts to imagine your family to. You only turn your head to see the outline of the men who love to smother you in this suffocation they call love.
“[Y. Name]?”
Very rarely is there someone so gentle-spoken and princely in this mess of a school, so you knew that Silver Vanrouge was there waiting upon you as you peeled your cheek off the school desk. Your short nap has you yawning into your palm, and Silver’s stoic face quirks into a fond smile as he regards your messy look.
“Nice nap, I take it?” He asks, gently taking you by the hand and guiding you onto your feet. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and nods approvingly. “Father— er, Lilia— um.” He sighs when he catches your knowing look. “Sorry, force of habit. Everyone is eagerly awaiting your arrival at Diasomnia. Lord Malleus seems to be quite excited, too. He’s looking forward to dinner with you.”
“Dinner, huh?” Walking alongside Silver’s languid pace, you think back to the Master Chef and the food that General Lilia whipped up in his dream. Silver takes note of your darkening expression and shakes his head.
“Father was insistent on cooking, but Sebek tried to convince him that ordering takeout from Mostro Lounge would be better. Lord Malleus was also quick to jump in and sway him.” The two of you share a chuckle as you imagine how chaotic that scene must have been. “Father was on his way to Mostro Lounge when I departed to find you. Where’s Grim, if I may ask?”
“Infirmary,” you say as lightly as possible. Silver smiles wryly.
Outside Diasomnia’s mirror, Silver slowly comes to a stop, and he turns to face you. You are surprised when Silver drops to his one knee, looking every bit as knightly as he prides himself on being. When he lifts his face— fair, gorgeous, and tinged with sympathy— he presses a hand to his chest as he holds your gaze steadfast.
“On my honor as a knight, I promise that no harm will befall you in Diasomnia,” he pledges to you, taking in that weary look in your eye as he takes your hand in his. “After all, I— we adore you so. We owe it to you to give you a sanctuary when you have nowhere to turn. So, please, rest easy. We are Diasomnia, after all.” He takes your hand and presses its back against his lips, turning to you with a reassuring smile, yet something uncertain flashes in his eyes. “Who else would be the most suited to give you a proper sleep?”
Even at such a small dinner party, Diasomnia spares no expense in making sure you’re cared for. As soon as Silver escorts you through the massive doors, Lilia is quick to pop out of nowhere with his youthful grin. “Well, well, if it isn’t the belle of the ball! I trust my son has been a wonderful escort!” He winks at you before hurriedly pushing you. “Come, come, Malleus has been eager to see you since forever! If we leave him alone for any longer, I’m afraid that even Sebek cannot calm his tantrum!”
“T– Tantrum?” You echo, letting yourself be pushed around by the bat fae. Silver quietly follows behind. “Is Tsuno— uh, Malleus angry?”
Lilia chuckles. “No need to act polite. You know that Malleus is quite fond of your nickname for him. But no, not angry, but he has been sulking about the other dorms having you to themselves.” Stopping at a smaller yet equally impressive door, he steps in front of you and gives you an apologetic smile. “Now, I won’t pretend to be ignorant— we’re all quite aware of the rumors around you.” The expression on your face must be exceedingly bitter, because Lilia reaches up to pinch away the frown and shakes his head. “You know how overprotective our Malleus is, so we have taken extra precautions to keep him away from those nasty whispers.”
“Sebek’s taken too many precautions, I think,” Silver speaks up from beside you. Lilia waves it away.
“They do deserve it, and it’s not like Malleus has heard of Sebek’s actions. Yet.” Lilia puts two steady hands on your shoulders and levels you with a stare. “Us hardworking knights have done our best to protect you and others from Malleus’ wrath, so please don’t let it slip, okay? I am not against Malleus smiting those wicked men, but you…”
You shake your head immediately. Lilia steps back with a satisfied smile and pinches your cheek one last time. “Of course. Our [Y. Name] is ever so kind, after all.”
Silver and Lilia push aside the doors to reveal a small table fit for five with Mostro Lounge takeout placed appetizingly around green-flamed candelabras. Malleus is looking out the window, lightning flashing to illuminate the stormy expression on his face, while Sebek is saying something to placate him. When they hear the doors creak, they quickly turn around.
“[Y. Name],” Malleus greets you warmly, approaching you in long strides. He is handsome as ever, the friendly expression sitting so regal on such an otherworldly face that makes you feel small compared to him. You think back to the days when you didn’t know how much of a deal Malleus was, taking late-night walks with him outside of Ramshackle. You’ve always thought him handsome and imposing, but certainly not someone you would be scared of.
The image of his Overblot form overlaps with his current form as he stops in front of you, but you return his smile as sweetly as you could. “Malleus! Thanks again for the invite; the others were driving me crazy.”
He chuckles, smooth as butter, but you catch the darkening of his eyes for a sliver of a second. “Mm, yes, I’ve heard whispers.” Behind him, Sebek starts telling you to stop with a cutthroat motion. He quickly stands still when Malleus follows your eyes to look behind him. He turns back to look at you, smiling the same as ever. “Would you care to join us for dinner? We’ve prepared quite a feast to welcome you.”
You say your thanks as everyone joins Malleus at the table. “I could’ve cooked, you know~!” Lilia sighs. “Is it not rather rude to serve take-out to a guest as dear as our [Y. Name]?”
“N– Not really,” you nervously laugh. “In fact, I’m already getting shy from all this unnecessary welcome. None of the other houses really did this for me…”
“Of course!” Sebek booms with pride across you, thumping his chest with his hand. “It is to be expected that Diasomnia, the dorm that our Lord Malleus leads, will be a step above the rest!”
Lilia, on the other hand, leans forward on the table and perches his sly face on his hands. “Oh, I’m sure the other dorms must have been hospitable in their own way…” He purrs, eyeing you knowingly. “But fae pride themselves on being hospitable. I think serving takeout is somewhat distasteful, but if our guest has no complaints, then who am I to say so!”
The dinner falls into a comfortable conversation, each one playing a role they’ve clearly been playing for many years. Lilia cheerily inquires about you on the general state of things, with Malleus slyly trying to weasel information from you on what (or who) you’ve been up to these past few weeks. Sebek loudly demands that you answer his young lord’s questions while Silver scolds Sebek for being too imposing.
The scene is… familiar. Sharing takeout around the dinner table, interacting freely with each other— they overlap with people from your world. Your parents, your siblings, your friends… You bow your head and force yourself to take another bite, blinking away the sting welling up in the corner of your eyes.
You don’t quite notice the shared looks around the table, the green candlelights of Diasomnia flickering every so slightly brighter.
SEBEK ZIGVOLT has no duty to you. Nothing is binding him to you, so why does his heart squeeze so painfully when he sees you with that vacant look in your eyes?
You’re standing on one of the dorm’s many balconies, unmindful of the chilly wind blowing throughout the night. Bathed in the serene glow of the moonlight, Sebek would have mistaken you for a nocturnal fae had he not known any better. The indifferent look on your face, as you look upon everything that Diasomnia has to offer, is eerily inhuman.
Sebek swallows down his feelings and knocks on the glass door leading out to the balcony. You turn to him, a little light returning to your eyes, yet your expression still stays somber. “You’re supposed to be in your room,” Sebek says stiffly. “It’s already lights out. Do yourself a favor and get some rest.”
“Hi, Sebek,” you softly greet him, turning back to the dreary view below. You study the twisting vines and branches. “Don’t you get depressed living in a place like this? It’s so… well, depressing.”
He frowns, taking the space beside you. He’s never thought of it. Briar Valley was full of similar twisting vines, and they weren’t so scary when the woodland fae were there to light the way. “I don’t think much of it,” he huffs. “I don’t have the luxury of admiring views when I’m busy serving Lord Malleus.”
You laugh shortly, like you expected that answer. “Of course, of course,” you hum, smiling to yourself as you continue looking out. “My mistake. Our dear Sebek is wholly devoted to making his young lord proud.” There is a silence as you ponder to yourself. “... One question.”
“I will permit it.”
You playfully roll your eyes at such haughtiness but continue anyway, expression taking on a softer note, “Your dream… When you dreamt of celebrating Lilia and Malleus’s internships… Were you happy?”
Sebek’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. “I– Well, yes, I suppose so.” The memories of that dream and the circumstances that came alongside it left a bitter taste on his tongue, but he supposes that he could forgive you since you were caught up in it as well. “The dream was intended to make one happy, and nothing would make me happier than to see Master Lilia and Lord Malleus thriving and healthy.”
“How was it?” You press on. “Did it really feel like the paradise that Malleus intended it to be? Did it feel like you wanted to be there forever?”
Sebek looks at you once more. You’re staring at him, eyes probing him for answers. He bites the inside of his cheek before tearing his gaze away from you. “Of course, I did,” he says hesitantly. “Lord Malleus was happy, Master Lilia won’t leave us permanently, Silver would still have his father, and nothing could make me happier. Before you and Silver barged in, I was as content as I could be.”
“If you didn’t know anything,” you continued to press. “If Silver didn’t tell you that it was a dream, would you have ever woken up?”
Sebek stays silent before he looks at you almost angrily. “What is this about?” He demands. “Why are you so curious about my dream?”
You stare at him, looking a bit shocked at the hint of frustration coming from him, before you press your lips together in a bitter line. “... my dream.”
“What?” Sebek raises his voice, brows knit together in exasperation. “How am I supposed to understand you if you keep slurring your words!”
Jaw clenched, your hands bundle into fists as you stare long and hard into the distance. “My dream.” You say louder. “I couldn’t experience it.”
“What could you possibly gain from such an experience?” He practically spits. “Lord Malleus is indeed great enough to spin such a realistic dream from his magic alone, but the fact that it isn’t real should already deter you. It’s already a humiliation for me that you, Silver, and that beast of yours have seen that side of me.”
Tsk. You find yourself growing irate with Sebek’s frank words, though you know that he’s said nothing wrong. “I know that, I’m not stupid. It’s just—! It’s just not fair, okay! I’ve had to jump from dream to dream, see all of you live your best lives, even for just a moment. You had maybe an hour or even more to live out a reality where you were perfectly happy!”
“What part of fake do you not get?”
“It wasn’t fake for you!” You spin to him, angry tears welling in your eyes. Your expression had contorted into one so ugly, so pathetic, so human that he almost reeled back. “Before Silver and I came along, that was your reality! I wanted that! For one hour at least, I could live out a life where I was actually happy! I could be back in my room, I would be hanging out in my usual cafe, I’d be grinding my dailies on my PC, I’d get to see my family again! I don’t—!” You let out an ugly laugh. “Fuck, I don’t even remember the color of my walls anymore! It’s not even been a year! This school is fucking killing me!”
A moment of silence passes after your outburst, your chest heaving from the screaming, and Sebek watching you crumple onto the floor. Human. You’re so human, like the rest of them. Ugly and jealous and inferior and everything he didn’t want to be.
A beat passes. “... Do you hate it here…?”
You avert your eyes. “I don’t even know anymore,” you plainly say.
It stings, but anyone would have seen this coming, especially Sebek. You were always an outlier in every event, unable to familiarize yourself with Twisted Wonderland’s culture and traditions in such a short amount of time. You don’t fit in. You are an alien, no matter how hard you try. Even if people say they accept you, you wouldn’t accept yourself.
Sebek turns his back to you, unable to properly form his words. “Then– Then how do I…?”
You look at Sebek’s broad, muscled back. In the darkness of the night, you don’t know whether you’re imagining the shaking of his shoulders as he mutters something to himself. “D– Did you say something, Sebek…?” You see him shake his head and rub at his eyes with his sleeves, before turning to you with a scowl.
His eyes are wet, but his glare has real heat behind them. “Of course, you would want to leave,” Sebek plainly says. “You don’t belong here.”
Now, you glare at him for stating something so painfully obvious. Did he really have to rub the facts in your face? “But how could you leave? There’s been no spell in history opening a portal to another dimension. You are the first of your kind. It is a fool’s hope to even think of devising such an unthinkable spell.”
“You don’t know that—!”
“And you don’t know if a spell like that even exists,” he shot back. “Do you think, in all his greatness and power, Lord Malleus would not have done so already? He has a terrible fondness for you that I cannot fathom, but if Lord Malleus couldn’t do it, then who else can?”
You think back to Malleus overblot, those inky hands clawing at you from dreams as he latches onto your body with enough vice to never let you go. “Would he?” You say sardonically. “Come on, Sebek. We’ve been through so many dreams because of that. Would he really?”
Sebek shoots you an infuriatingly smug smile when you finally come to the conclusion that he’s wanted. “Exactly. If Lord Malleus of all people would not permit you to leave Twisted Wonderland, then—”
You stare back at him in stunned silence as it finally dawns on you. Sebek, with the smallest hint of guilt, relishes in it.
“— Who are you to believe that you could actually leave?”
You (SILVER VANROUGE): Father.
You (SILVER VANROUGE): Father. You must do something about Sebek. His violence is getting out of hand.
You (SILVER VANROUGE): I cannot keep covering up for him. Day by day his outbursts are getting more and more aggressive. It is also unseemly for us to be attacking civilians.
You (SILVER VANROUGE): I know he would agree. He was never the type to lay hands on civilians before. Why now would he…?
Father (LILIA VANROUGE): ohoho :3 young love, how I love to see it !
You (SILVER VANROUGE): This is no laughing matter, Father. I’ve tried talking to Sebek about it but won’t listen to a word I say. Just this morning we got into a fight over how I don’t care enough for [Y. Name].
You (SILVER VANROUGE): I was so upset at the accusation that we almost exchanged blows. But still… am I in the wrong?
Father (LILIA VANROUGE): Of course not! u n sebek care in ur own way!! since ure so easygoing, ure able to be by the prefect’s side whenever to protect them from any harm
Father (LILIA VANROUGE): but sebek can’t be honest with himself, the poor thing (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥) u and i know that all he wants is to protect those dear to him,,, so let’s just look the other way, ok ? ♡
Father (LILIA VANROUGE): otherwise, i fear that even the cute prefect won’t be able to handle sebek’s overeagerness (･ω<)☆
“Oh me, oh my!” LILIA VANROUGE sits on the edge of your bed, kicking his legs back and forth as he greets you with youthful cheer. “That’s an awfully glum expression you have there, dear! Did Sebek say something to upset you again? I’m sorry, that boy has such a mouth on him. I fear that he gets it from his grandfather.”
Having just entered the room, your throat feels dry as you watch Lilia pat his side. “Lilia,” you croak out. “I thought…? Is this your room?”
Lilia covers his mouth with both hands as if you’ve suggested something very scandalous. “Oh my, I could never! You sly thing! You look so innocent, but here you are insinuating!” He wags a finger at you. “Bad, bad! Of course, we arranged for you to have your own room. It wouldn’t be very noble of us Diasomnia folks if we had a guest share, now would it?”
Turning to the side, Lilia then mutters to himself, “And Sebek and Silver wouldn’t let me.”
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing!” Lilia leaps up and drags you to the bed with him. “Now, come! It wouldn’t do for you stand there all night long with such a grim look on your face! What’s got you in a twist?”
“N– Nothing…” You say, twiddling with your thumbs as you look despondently down on your lap. You ignore Lilia’s constant moving in the background. “Just came to a realization, that’s all.”
Lilia hums knowingly, having produced a brush from one of the dressers and starting to run its bristle across your strands. “Oh, don’t mind me. I just thought you might do with a little grooming, that’s all. Do carry on. Realization about what?”
“... My current predicament?” You sigh hopelessly. “Lilia… Is there really no hope?”
“For you to return home?” He replies in an upbeat tone, as if the conversation wasn’t heavy at all. “At the beginning, I would have said that there was a chance. Even if our headmage is a lout, the fact that you were summoned here means that there is a way of opening the fabric between worlds— just that it hasn’t been explored yet.” Then he pinches your cheek, grinning at you from the side. “But then you had to go charm Malleus! How could you ever leave after that!”
Sebek said the same thing. Malleus this… Malleus that… If you weren’t ignorant on the night that you met Malleus, would he have ever held any affection for you? Or if he would, would it be to the degree of possessiveness that everyone thinks he has? The fists clenched in your lap relax. What was the point of ruminating over the past?
“You know, Malleus was such a selfish boy growing up,” Lilia sighs, using his fingers to unknot a particularly stubborn one in your hair. “So possessive over me as well! Why, when Silver came along, he could hardly comprehend that he had to share me! I didn’t know whether to be flattered or troubled. Everyone in that family, really... what a bunch of troublemakers!”
You smile to yourself. “I saw.”
You feel Lilia nod behind you. “Oh, you did, alright. My embarrassing past… I’m happy that it was only you, Silver, Sebek, and dear Grim who saw it! I wouldn’t know what to do if my other schoolmates saw such a grumpy side of me… It’s very uncool!”
“I think a lot of people would disagree otherwise,” you say. You think back to when Lilia would glare down at the four of you coldly, every bit of the terrific general as his followers praised him to be. “We were certainly scared… and awestruck.”
“Now were you?” You hear a bit of pleased satisfaction in Lilia’s voice as he finishes brushing your hair. “There you go, smooth as a baby’s bum.” From above, Lilia looked down at you with half-lidded eyes and a smug smile. “Did I hear you correctly? Did our pretty prefect fall in love with General Lilia at first sight?”
“Now you know I said no such thing— w-woah!” You find yourself pinned to the bed, your head in between Lilia’s thighs as he continues to stare at you. “Lilia! What the hell!”
“Now that’s a look,” he hums. His lithe fingers trace your expression— to the crease between your brows to the dip in your cupid’s bow— and cocks his head to the side. “From depressed to angry, you sure are a fickle one. When I first laid eyes on you, you were as meek as a mouse, but I would never have thought that you had such fire in you! I’m sure you were well-adored in your world as well.” At the mention of your world, your eyes dim a little, and Lilia pats your head lovingly as you become lost in thought. “And yet, that fire cannot be stoked in this world. After all, there’s so many bad men who are willing to douse that water out just to have your cinders for themselves… One cannot blame you for losing that spark.”
You continue to be silent, his vague analogies lost on your drifting mind. His rhythmic strokes lull you to a false sense of comfort, the back of your brain nagging at you that something is wrong. “But it’s not so bad, is it? When your future begins to look bleak, it’s okay to depend on us. We all love you so much, surely that means something to you?”
Love… You turn the word around in your brain like a stone to be examined. Does love feel so suffocating and so hopeless? Is love supposed to make you feel fear? Glancing up at Lilia’s red eyes, looking down at you all, fatherly and doting, you wonder if love is supposed to look so sinister and scheming. He tuts at you.
“Now, now, you’re in no condition to be thinking so hard.” He massages the creases between your brows and cocks his head to the side. Blocking out the ceiling light, it haloes around him and casts a dark shadow on his face. You are unable to decipher the strange expression he has on. “On the chance that you can’t come home, you’re not lacking for anything here. So many possibilities! Royal consort of Sunset Savannah’s second prince, married to the heir of the al Asim wealth, the partner of A-list star Schoenheit… or even live out a cozy life baking treats with your lover, picking apples with dear Epel in the countryside, managing the ever-so-successful Mostro Lounge with Ashengrotto… The possibilities are endless!”
“As for what I’d do with you…” He taps a finger on his porcelain cheek, making a display of thinking. “Sevens, I’m already old, so I’m afraid I can’t compete with the younger ones’ vigor. Still, you’ve enamored me for a long time now, and this old man can’t help but spend the rest of his days with you and the boys. What do you think?” He smiles at you cheerfully, pointy fangs poking out from his upper lip. “We make a pretty cute pair, don’t you think?”
You hum thoughtlessly. “Whatever you say…”
He pouts at you. “Have the other fiends harassed you so much that you don’t react to this anymore? I remember when you’d squeak at the slightest touch. If a face as cute as mine can’t move your heart anymore, then what am I to do?” He sighs.
“You could let me sleep?” You suggest hopefully. He snickers, and you drop any hope of actually getting in an early rest.
“But I haven’t had my fill of playing with you yet! Silver and Sebek may think that we’ve taken you under our roof under the goodness of our hearts, but I’ve always been a ruffian. Less knightly and more soldier, as you well know.” He lifts himself from where he sits, the mattress pushing upwards as he stands. It’s a rather awkward position as you avert your eyes to avoid seeing any more up his shorts, and you hear him laugh at your politeness. Those slender legs straddle themselves on your chest, and with a squeak, you look back at him to see a rather self-satisfied expression on his face. “Well! There you go! Just a little bit of skinship to have you squeaking like a mouse. Not so cold as I thought.”
“Th– This isn’t a little bit!” You protest, attempting to push him away before your fingers curl in on themselves just inches away from his bare legs. “You’re literally on top of me!”
“Just some innocent roughhousing!” Fully playing the act of an innocent boy, he purposefully squirms to feel the friction between the two of you. He laughs in delight when you cover your mouth to stop any inappropriate noises. “What’s the fuss? Is our innocent prefect actually thinking naughty thoughts right now?”
“You know what you’re doing!” You whine. He chuckles again, toying with the fray of your clothes in silence as you try to settle into the new position. Lilia finds it rather endearing that you haven’t tried to push him away, whether it was out of politeness or simply because you’ve learned your lesson from past houses. The perfect and cutest doormat. He sees you toss your head to the side and squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers tease and graze along the curves of your hips, watching closely every minuscule change in expression as he gently grabs your waist and presses his thumbs into your abdomen.
“If anyone walked in, this would be enough to fuel their fantasies for months,” he muses to himself, enjoying the way your abdomen tenses under his touch. “Two cute things playing with each other, me straddling you in between my legs, your thighs shivering as I touch you all over… What a sight to behold, I’m sure. Being like this together makes me rather happy that we met at my current age. I wouldn’t know what my younger self would do to such an adorable, pathetic thing like you.”
You whimper as his fingers go higher and higher, circling your chest but never fully committing. Your shirt is well above your neckline, exposing your torso to the cold air. “That brute may have ravaged you on the spot in front of all his army, maiming your neck just so every fae in the vicinity will know that you’re the general’s. He may not control himself when another man tries to touch you. I’ve always been messy… Thorn Fairy knows how many times Baur has tried to lecture me on this front.”
“That is why~” He leans down, your bare chest against his clothed one, and he grinds down for good measure. “You’re so lucky to meet cute ol’ me. They say patience comes with age, and I’ve 700 years of it.” He presses a kiss on your forehead, sickly innocent in contrast to his perverted fondling. When he lifts his head, he is grinning down at you like he knows exactly what’s going to happen next.
“So even if you try to resist, I still have plenty of years left to make you see things my way.”
This… might be the longest you’ve slept in any dorm yet. You’re rather surprised, yes, but you’re not going to complain. Although the darkness of Diasomnia may have fucked up your internal clock for a little bit, you find yourself waking up refreshed in the mornings. Really, this is the hospitality that you’ve been needing for a while now.
And yet… why does…?
You shake the minuscule worries gnawing at the back of your mind and start getting ready for bed. You and Grim fucked up another potion-making test today and have to wake up early in the morning to retrieve the ingredients for your retake. Well, it was more so that you fucked it up for both of you. Your mind has been foggy these days that Ace and Deuce have to literally shake you by the shoulders to snap you out of it.
It’s a pleasant daze… something that you wouldn’t mind falling deeper into. But… You shake your head and slap your cheeks in front of the mirror. You gotta take this retake seriously, or Professor Crewel will seriously chew your ass out. Now, where were those notes…
As you rummage through your bag for your papers, you hear a steady rapping on your door. “Coming!” You call out to them, quickly rushing to the door while you make yourself appropriate. You find MALLEUS DRACONIA staring down as soon as you swing open the door.
“Care for a walk?” He asks with the expression of trying not to seem overeager. You hesitate, thinking back on your upcoming test before shaking your head and looping your arm through his.
“I have to retake a test tomorrow,” you tell him as you step outside. “I messed up today’s test.”
Malleus hums. “It’s highly understandable that you don’t excel in Alchemy. You’re no mage, and you have an unruly direbeast to perform magic on your behalf. Does Night Raven College not consider your predicament?”
“Mmm, not really.” You idly kick a pebble. “I mean, Grim and I make up two halves of one student, right? Grim performs the magic, and I have… opposable thumbs.” You shrug and look up at him. “I’m the one who messed up. I accidentally dropped a whole lot more mugwort than the recipe asked for. It didn’t need magic or anything; I was just being stupid. I haven’t been thinking straight these days…”
“Hmm…” Malleus hums again, looking to the side thoughtfully. “There has been a lot of activity going on with you recently…”
“Um, activity?” You cock your head to the side. “I– I don’t think so? I’ve been doing the same as I’ve always have, I think?”
He smiles at you, looking like he knows something that you don’t. “Oh, that was just some off-comment of mine, pardon me. After this walk, perhaps I could educate you on whatever potion it is that you’re struggling with.”
You perk up. “You would?! I mean— ahem.” You sheepishly look to the side. “Sebek would have my head for making you do that. It’s okay, really, I can manage.”
The century-old dragon fae pouts at you, lifting your chin by the finger to make you look at him. “Do you prioritize my retainer’s word over my own?” He grumbles, looking oddly adorable as his mature face creases into a childish sulk. “It is not every day that I offer to tutor someone. You ought to be grateful that I offered my services.”
You can’t help but crack a wry smile, becoming increasingly aware of the faint electricity crackling in the atmosphere. “Well, if the Prince of the Valley of Thorns insists, then who am I to refuse, right?” Malleus pulls away, looking smugly satisfied with your words and with himself.
“Exactly,” he croons. There is a mischievous expression on his face as he looks down on you, lips pursed into a rogueish smile as he draws his face closer to you. “Well, then, shall we start the session?”
There is the cool sensation of his lips pressed against your forehead, before you feel the tender trunk of vines wrapping themselves around your ankle, twisting further up and up to your thigh till they create a cradle around your torso. Malleus’ pale face blurs in and out of focus, looking at you just like he once did when he was covered in ink and going insane.
“See you in a few, my dear,” is all you hear, faint and soft like a lullaby, until the black thorns block your vision and you finally go to sleep.
You open your eyes to a familiar [F. Color] ceiling, popcorned and patchy with stickers you stuck on throughout different phases of your childhood. There is a loud, obnoxious banging on the door, along with an even more obnoxious voice telling you to wake up. A more muted one, so faint that it’s drowned out by the banging and shouting, says something that you can’t make out.
You groan and roll over, hugging the pillow to your chest. “Shut uppp, Sebek!” The banging stops for a loud gasp before it resumes with an even louder force. Man, this guy.
Knowing that nothing will stop Sebek from knocking your whole door down, you decide to spare yourself the misery of broken hinges and swing the door wide open. Still in your pajamas and sporting a bedhead, you scowl at the already in-uniform Sebek. “What?!”
He scowls back at you. “What do you mean by ‘what’?! Look at you, underdressed and disheveled at six in the morning. School starts at eight, and here you are wasting precious daylight! Get moving!”
You open your mouth to argue back, before Silver steps in between the two of you. “Okay, that’s enough. [Y. Name]’s already awake, and that’s all that matters.” Silver looks to you and smiles. “You can freshen up after eating breakfast. You pulled an all-nighter again, didn’t you?”
“Malleus had me memorizing formulas the entire night!” You complained, yawning into your hand as you began to walk downstairs. “I’m pooped.”
“Malleus taught you?!” You wince and plug your ears with your fingers as Sebek yells into your ear. The two of you stop just short of the staircase, glaring into each other’s eyes again. “You had Malleus teaching you, and you have the nerve to complain!”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Maybe Malleus could teach you, too, if you lived here—” You fake a gasp, hand covering your mouth like you just realized something. “Oh, but you don’t live here, do you? Blehhh.”
“Why you—!”
As you and Sebek begin duking it out in this cramped hallway, you feel something boring into the side of your skull. When Sebek claims his victory by (lightly) smacking you upside the head and begins to head down himself, you shoot a quizzical look towards Silver, who’s been staring at you with an odd look in his eye. “Silver?” You call out. “You… er, okay? What’s up?”
Silver shakes his head before returning to his stoic yet soft expression. “Nothing. I was just… wondering. Let’s head down and eat breakfast before it gets cold.”
“Ignore him,” Sebek scoffs from the foot of the staircase. He has one hand outstretched to you, blush faintly covering his cheeks as he averts his eyes from you. “He’s always an airhead.” Sending a teasing grin Sebek’s way that he pointedly ignores, you gladly take his hand and let him escort you to the kitchen.
“Well, well, looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally joined us!” Lilia teases as soon as the three of you enter the kitchen. Donning a frilly apron, he sets the table with Malleus taking the head of the table as always. You find your usual positions on the table, grimacing at the odd-looking concoctions. “I could hear the racket you were making from all the way here!” You and Sebek grumble out varying volumes of apologies.
“Are you prepared for your test today, [Y. Name]?” Malleus leans on the table with his arms propped up, watching you with glimmering green eyes. “I take it that you’ve familiarized yourself with the potion’s recipe?”
“P– Potion…?” You furrow your brows. You were taking a… chemistry test today, weren’t you? But… but of course! Potions and chemistry. That much was obvious. Your confusion melts away into sureness, and you nod cheerfully. “Yep. Got the recipe down pat. I think I’ll ace Crewel’s test today, no sweat!”
He reclines with a pleased smile. “Under my tutelage, there is no doubt you will ‘ace’ this test.” Sebek, who’s been piling heaps of rice on his plate, eagerly leans forward.
“If— If it’s no bother to you, Malleus, could I join you for your next session?” He asks hopefully. “I– I’ve been struggling with academics as well…!”
Malleus chuckles, looking beyond amused at Sebek’s attempts. “There’s no need to downplay yourself, Sebek. I know your academics have been far more than satisfactory. You have your own due diligence to thank for that.” Sebek shoots you a haughty look across the table, to which you respond by kicking him by the shin under the table. He glares at you but does not attempt to respond.
Breakfast goes by with Malleus and Lilia conversing about everyday topics while you and Sebek try to stomach the food. Lilia eats some of his own cooking, but Silver and Malleus don’t touch anything. Malleus never had a large appetite, but you nudge Silver with your elbow. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” You gesture at this empty plate. “You can’t go to school on an empty stomach, you know! You’re in a sports club!’’
With an odd look of helplessness, Silver stares at his plate for a second. “I doubt this could fill me up,” he mutters under his breath, before he looks at you. “Pardon my asking, but does this have any taste to you, [Y. Name]?”
Something in the air tenses, Malleus narrowing his eyes at Silver’s direction. “Silver,” he says in a tone so dangerous that it has you and Sebek focusing on your own plates. “Leave it be.”
Silver purses his lips, like he wants to say something, before defeatedly looking away. “Yes, my— I mean, yes, Malleus,” is the only thing he mutters before he heaps himself a serving of rice just to poke at it. The silence is so awkward that even the ever sociable Lilia looks like he’s at a loss as he tries to figure out this mysterious interaction between the men.
Malleus’s green eyes don’t seem to quite leave Silver before they soften and settle on you. “Let’s pick up where we left off last night on the way to school. I shall be your escort today.” He gestures to Sebek. “Sebek, kindly see to it that Silver goes to school on time. [Y. Name] and I shall make our leave first.”
Although Sebek looks disheartened at the command, he follows through with it and is still nagging Silver when you finally finish freshening up and head out the door with Malleus. Lilia waves the two of you cheerily off, and you both begin the familiar route to school in comfortable silence. Malleus seems to take in his surroundings with curiosity, whatever interest he may find in the same old suburban buildings and sky-high towers in the distance.
“It never ceases to amuse me,” he ruminates. “How a world can be so… ordinary. No magic to be found. It is charmingly mundane, indeed.”
“Hm?” Malleus has always had a habit of rambling about mysterious stuff that’s almost nonsensical to you, so you always brush his meandering off as some sort of personality quirk. “Well, it does grow boring when you’ve been living here for almost all your life,” you absentmindedly agree as you skip over a crack. Or break your mama’s crack, you hum as you continue skipping. You turn around to Malleus, who looks at you with an unreadable expression. “Where do you wanna live instead, Mal?”
“If I said a world full of magic and wonder, where you’d never want for anything, would you follow me there?”
“Of course, I will!” You nod. “I mean, we’re family, aren’t we? We might not be blood, but we’re a package deal! I’m sure Lilia would be too worried about leaving you somewhere on your own, and Silver will follow… then Sebek too… oh, but Sebek’s family…” Listing them all off, you raise five fingers at him. “Lilia, Silver, and me, then Sebek and his family! We’ll all follow you!”
Malleus stares at your outstretched palm, held up to him proudly as you look at him expectantly. Then he begins to chuckle into his palm, and eventually bellowing into full-blown laughter. Even you’re taken aback by this sudden burst of laughter, and you circle him to inspect what could be wrong with him. “Hey, what’s with you? What’s so funny?” You pout at him. “I wasn’t joking, you know!”
His merriment dying down, he continues looking at you with the same fondness as you both resume walking. “Of course, of course. How could a sweet thing like you possibly lie to someone like me?” Rather big ego he has there, but you choose to ignore it. “I guess that’s another wonder of this world. I’ve yet to see you so happy. It’s rather thought-provoking what a change of environment can do to one’s personality.”
“You always say the most confusing things!” You naively remark. You look back at him after skipping another crack. “I’m happy every day! I’ve got everyone with me. Later, my friends and I are gonna go to this ritzy mini-golfing thing.” You make a lousy attempt at swinging your imaginary golf club. “Putt! Or something.”
You stop your playing around when you finally reach the pedestrian crossing, and Malleus watches as your already carefree expression stretches into a happy smile as you wave at your friends from the other side. They’re unfamiliar to Malleus, clearly memories of people from your world— or what was left of those memories. They mirror the same carefree smiles and waves, but their features are darkened by the shadows of their hair. You are clearly forgetting.
He looks around. The scenery doesn’t seem to be coherent either. Now in the thick of the city, you are surrounded by skyscrapers and bustling shops, yet a closer inspection reveals things that should only exist in Twisted Wonderland. Why else would a magickless world need a store hawking magic pens and brooms? He looks down on his uniform. There are symbols from Night Raven College littered throughout the original design of the uniform of the school you used to come from, a clear mismatch with your relatively unblemished one. He hums.
“[Y. Name],” he calls. He preens when you quickly turn around, foregoing your friends to give him your entire attention. The way you look at him, all starry-eyed and untroubled, is a sight that he could never get used to. Always diminishing yourself for the sake of not getting picked on, jumpy at every show of magic— he would never have guessed that the otherworlder he had met on that fateful night outside Ramshackle would be this lighthearted and blithesome. “[Y. Name],” he calls again.
“Malleus, Malleus,” you playfully echo back to him. He represses an ungraceful snort.
“You always seem to favor this dream,” he muses, walking towards you and gingerly taking a stray strand in between his gloved fingers. “Partaking in breakfast around the table, squabbling with your family, taking leisurely strolls to school… Later, you will doze off in the middle of a lecture, making sure to hide your antics behind a book. Then you will race with your friends to buy whatever special the cafeteria has today. There will be your clubs, then you will make merry with your friends in town, then go back home satisfied and not having finished your homework. This unremarkable routine is what you always come back to.”
He cocks his head to you, taking in your confused expression. “Have you always been this easy to satisfy? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you already do, isn’t it?”
You furrow your brows. “What I already…?”
Malleus throws his head back and laughs. “So many hints, yet you refuse to wake up. I don’t mind. Silver can’t pin the blame on me if you are unwilling to release yourself from these delusions.”
The scenery shifts, the buildings dissolve into the ground and melt into inky shadows until a looming stone-walled castle rises to take their place. You stumble backwards and frantically look back to the images of your friends, who have vanished into the black thorns, gradually blocking the darkening sky. You yelp when you feel Malleus’ hand against the small of your back, and you look up to see his face darkened with…
“You would never respond this brightly when I placed you within the confines of my palace, adorned in fineries fit for royalty. This blinding smile you’ve always shown me in this world… nowhere to be seen even when I seat you on the throne next to me. I tell you— I order you to love me, yet you only nod and fold your hands subserviently. You give me compliance when I wanted your heart!” His taloned nails dig through your uniform and barely pierce your skin.
His expression is downright livid, glaring down at you as green lightning streaks against the dark sky. He brings his other hand to pointingly dig into your temple. “I could easily manipulate this feeble mind of yours. Humans are so eager to submit to pleasure, and yet—” He looks torn. “— Even I force you to be my betrothed, I cannot be satiated until I know that you wholly return my feelings. It would not be a happy ending if I turned you into a marionette, would it?” He looks off to the side, pondering something, and nods. “Yes, it would do me no good. Sebek adores happy endings. I cannot deny him or Lilia and Silver one.”
Malleus returns his gaze to you, gasping for breath as the thickness of magic begins to slowly fill your lungs. “Do you see the position you have put me in? No other dream will do for you, so here I am diminishing myself to the wiles of your ordinary world. I admit, it has been fun playing family with you and the others. How many times has it been? Walking hand-in-hand with you, playing with strays on the street with Silver, eating out at these ‘family restaurants’ to avoid Lilia’s cooking, stopping at these little shops to gorge on ‘crepes’ that Sebek has taken a liking to… I admit, there is an appeal in the mundane, and yet…” His eyes flick to the looming castle. Its pointed towers and gray-stone walls must feel intimidating to you when you’re so used to charming food stalls and cute models appearing on billboards.
“Alas, that is not the life I live.” With a flick of his wrist, everything melts away into the sunny metropolitan scene, but he is still draped in that inky garb, “So I have to make do for now. I want to know what about this world makes you happy. I want to continue seeing that smile. I—” Malleus’ voice hitches for a second, and despite the menacing ink floating around him, he begins to look like every schoolboy that you know. “I’ve learned my lesson. Delusions cannot make us happy.”
He swallows his tears, yet his glistening green gaze is enough to shake even the coldest hearts. “I don’t want to lose you to this world.” His plea comes out shaky, still giving his best efforts to be composed as he usually is. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
"So for now, I will place you in this world. The only world that will give me this smile." He takes a step back, yet his shadow continues to loom. "Till I know what will make you stay forever. Till you satisfy yourself with mere images and finally them let them go. Then you will come to me and I will show you another happiness."
You can feel still the sting of his claws. On your back. On your temple. You look at his black garb. The pedestrian sign above you chimes a signal for you to cross. You look up. The day is sunny and bright. Today will surely be a good day at school.
You’re fucking crazy.
You continue staring at the sky. The clouds are unmoving. Actually, you don’t feel even the slightest bit of wind. You try to tune in to the passerby’s chatter, but they’re all incoherent. Just buzz imitating human conversation. Your friends’ distant voices continue to repeat the same phrases as they beckon you to the other side of the street. They never stop.
You’re really fucking crazy. I never wanted this. I don’t want this. I want to go back home. I want to sleep and wake up and remember nothing. Why why why why why me why did it have to be me—
“[Y. Name]?”
Like an unused doll creaking its joints, you slowly tilt your neck down and look back at Malleus. When you weren’t looking, that mysterious outfit returned to being another poor imitation of your school’s uniform. The necktie shouldn’t be that color, should it? Malleus is staring at you, slowly watching your every move.
Every facial muscle feels wrong as your lips soften into a smile, and you stretch your hand out to wipe away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “What's wrong, Mal?” you ask softly. You take his hand into your own and begin guiding him into crossing the street. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“Why would I ever want to leave my family?”
“SILVER!” You call out, waving to him from the school gates. In this hazy dreamscape, in a scenery with blue skies marked by towering skyscrapers, SILVER VANROUGE finds you at the same location every time.
You are always so pretty in that unusual uniform. Like a magnet, he finds himself drawing closer to you in the midst of a faceless crowd. You shoot him a concerned look as you give him a lookover from top to bottom. “You alright?” You ask, poking at the creases in between his brows. “You look even sterner today! Something went wrong during club? You’re awfully early today!”
He shakes his head, but leans into your touch when you press your hand to his forehead to feel for a fever. You could never bring yourself to touch anyone like this so brazenly in the real world, so knowing that you were actually affectionate… gave Silver a few opportunities to be selfish. “I skipped,” he mumbles.
“You skipped?!” You cry out, staring at him with such comical bewilderment that it would have made Silver laugh were it not for the circumstances. You bring out your phone (not the cracked one that the Headmaster gave you, he observes, but (F.Color) and adorned with a personalized phone case) and hurriedly dial something. “I– I have to call Lilia!”
With hurried ease, Silver gently puts his hand on yours and lowers the phone. “It’s okay, really,” he assures you. “I… just wanted to go out early. Aren’t you the one always saying that ‘all work no play makes Silver a dull boy’?” At least, in the other dreams.
Fortunately, this comes to you as something as you would say, because you don’t comment on it. “B– But you’re always saying that discipline—!” He shakes his head and offers you his arm.
“Come,” he beckons you, looking princely in his dashing school uniform and striking silver hair. With a sort of tired fondness, he crooks a smile at you. “If I said that I wanted to spend time with you, would you indulge me at least?”
He watches as a blush blossoms on your cheeks, and you nervously wrap your shaking arm around his. He hides a gentle chuckle to himself. So this is what you looked like as a normal student. He thinks back to whose place he might be taking up in your dreams. Could it be a friend of yours as well? Did you link arms with them as you did now? Did you enjoy living out your youth under such a stunning blue sky with them?
He shakes his head. Whoever he might have replaced, they were long gone to you. There is nothing he could do in that regard but make you happy in their place.
“And so, I got picked on by the teacher again!” You whine to him. “Ugh, I stayed up all night watching anime and doing my dailies, so I didn’t have the chance to read the assigned readings! Waaah, Sebek’s gonna make fun of me again…!”
Another point of interest that stood out to him was how much your attitude towards education differed from that of this world and Night Raven College. He had always assumed that you were naturally diligent, acing high scores in subjects that didn’t need magic to excel. Finding you in the library wasn’t an odd sight, and sometimes he would even find you tutoring some of your fellow first-years and Grim with little success. Yet here you were in your natural habitat, foregoing academics in favor of hanging out with friends after school or binging your animated shows.
While he mulled over the differences between this version of you and the one that he knew, he is snapped out of his thoughts when you began dragging him to a pop-up gathering of indie stores in the middle of a plaza. “Let’s check it out before we head home!” You urged him, tugging his sleeve when he came to a standstill. “Come on~! It’s such a waste of your good looks if you keep wearing the same thing whenever we go out!”
“I don’t—” Silver starts, but sighs when you’ve successfully pulled him into shopping territory. He lets himself be dragged around by you, placing cute clips in his hair and even snapping pictures of him to send to Lilia and the others. At one point, he holds onto your hand to not get lost in the crowd as you get excited over thrifted clothes. You weren’t this absentminded either, were you? But as you turn to him with a cute hat on, posing for him as you ask whether it was cute or not, he decides that this wasn’t bad either. If you were so at ease that you didn’t feel the need to keep your guard up, then maybe he should let you enjoy yourself for a little bit.
There are things here that exist in Twisted Wonderland— cars, phones, colorful balloons— and then he looks up expecting to see a mage whiz by on their broom only for… nothing. Despite living the majority of his life in a secluded forest cabin in a country that was mostly old stone houses and gothic castles, the unfamiliarity of urban life did not perplex him, but rather what it lacked. Street magicians pulled coins out of kids’ ears rather than waving a wand and arranging a light show, brooms were not used to fly but to sweep, and vehicles emitted unpleasant smoke rather than magic exhaust, just to name a few. Your ordinary was… far more ordinary than anyone was thinking.
And yet it is in these ordinary dreams that Silver finds you happiest. You bound over to him with two cups of ice cream in both hands and sit on the bench next to him. “Here you go~!” You cock your head when Silver continues staring at you. “Um, Silver…?”
With a drowsy yawn, Silver plops his head into your lap. “Please feed me,” he says, closing his eyes as you pout down at him. “I’m tired.”
“You didn’t even attend club activities!” You complain, yet you feed him a spoonful of ice cream.
With the taste of nothing cooling down on his tongue, he lets the idle buzz of the plaza become white noise as he focuses on the plush of your thighs and the gentle touch of your fingers combing through his hair. In this cityscape that you keep returning to, Silver is always met with new things that he would never have experienced. Holding your hand as you window shop, playing around with filters on your phone, basking in the warm sun after a date… He had too much on his plate as Malleus’ retainer and a student of Night Raven College.
He pries his eyes open, your silhouette against the sun coming into focus like an angel’s halo as you busy yourself with your ice cream. “[Y. Name],” he breathes out your name, fingers coming up to graze against your cheek. You look down at him and smile. “Are you truly happy?”
“You and Malleus keep asking the same things,” you gripe. “Do I look sad to you?”
“I’m… just asking.” He puts down his hand. “Come, [Y. Name], you’ve had enough. Let’s wake up.”
You stare at him.
“Please, [Y. Name], wake up already.” He hears his voice breaking. He pushes himself up and puts a steady hand on your lap, looking earnestly into your eyes. “Wake up already. This isn’t real!”
The white bird continues to fly around your head. He buries his face into your shoulder and lets out a broken sob.
“I don’t know what to do, [Y. Name],” he whimpered into your clothes. “Please tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
He feels your hand pat his back, comforting, yet the last thing he wants right now. “You’re doing great, Silver.” You tell him the words he wants to hear, like it’s his dream and not yours. “Why are you crying? You’re doing everything correctly.”
“I’m not!” He yells, pushing you back by the shoulders. He stares into your eyes, hoping, praying, that he finds even the faintest flicker of realization inside them. “If I did do anything correctly, then you would want to stay with me!”
How could his voice echo throughout a busy plaza? No one looks at you. You only continue to stare unblinkingly.
“When I found you amidst all those dreams, awake and feeling, I was— I was so happy,” he sobbed. “I couldn’t take on the task of facing all those dreams alone. When you were there when the truth about my origins was revealed, I felt that, despite our brief meeting, there was no one else aside from my family that I would be happier to share my secret with. After all, you… You…!” His face twists as he tries to stop himself from crying, but his emotions continue to spill out like ink on paper. He delicately grasps both of your hands in his, but the way he’s squeezing you is desperate. “When you encouraged me to keep going… All those times when you held me by the hand and guided me forward… When we saw all those absurd dreams… Undergoing trial after trial…”
He presses his forehead against your hands in a silent plea. “Was it not enough to make you want to stay with me?”
The silence that ensues only further breaks Silver’s heart. He doesn’t know if you’re silent because you don’t fully comprehend the words that he’s saying in your dreamlike state or because that is your answer. He doesn’t dare look at you and only grips your hands tighter.
“Ever since I saw you in that dream…”
As according to the fairytales.
“Ever since you stayed by my side to weather the storm…”
As how the perfect princes start their vow.
“Despite our brief knowing…”
Because love does not discriminate.
“You have always been the object of my thoughts and my adoration.”
Because love is all-encompassing.
“Even If I know your kind heart would not say so…”
Because you are love.
“I would draw my sword for you if you so decree it.”
A heartfelt promise.
“I would do anything for you.”
A romantic gesture.
“No matter the cost.”
Even if it goes against whatever morals his breaking heart has left.
“So please,” he whispers, lifting his head to you as he bares his tears and feelings to you, as vulnerable as the day he thought he lost everything. “Please.”
“Just come back to us already.”
I love you.
But your eyes only crease in fondness, patting his silver hair like he isn’t falling apart in front of you. “Okay, Silver,” you murmur, smiling. “Let’s go back home.”
Silver bows his head and sobs, uncaring for the vacant stare the doll in front of him gives him.
“They’re not completely gone, Silver,” Malleus purrs from your bed, stroking your sleeping self as his knight stares at them from the doorway. “Do you not trust my word? I don’t plan on keeping them in this state forever.”
“Lord Malleus, please. Stop these dreams already,” Silver chokes on his words, stumbling into the room with his eyes on you the whole time. “Or at least, put me to sleep with the rest of them. I can’t bear it.”
Malleus tuts pityingly, thumbing the boy’s pale cheeks as he studies his bloodshot expression. “Look at you, barely a wink of sleep. It’s not my fault that your Unique Magic allows you to easily wake during your dreams. It is within my realm of power to put you back to sleep, but…” Malleus has a thoughtful expression as he looks at your peaceful slumber. “You always seem to be having a grand time before you decide to ruin everything for yourself.”
“I’m— I’m not,” Silver protests. To prove a point, Malleus stretches out his palm to portray a glowing pair of figures. Silver, with his hair tied back and in a formal suit, seems to stare at your figure with the most blissful expression as you twirl around the ballroom. Then, behind him in another flicker of green light, you, Silver, and Lilia are playing with cats just outside your home. Then, on his shoulder, Silver kisses your palm as he swears to protect you as your knight forever. Lastly, the green image of you both strolling hand in hand through racks of clothes dances in front of his eyes. “That’s—”
“It’s a dream, Silver,” Malleus says, the green figures flickering out when he closes his palm. “A place where you can momentarily forget about your worries. Is this not what the Child of Man came here for? A good night’s rest? They will wake the following morning feeling energized and refreshed, without knowing what transpired within their subconsciousness.” He cocks his head at Silver. “Are you saying that you would not allow [Y. Name] this slight reprieve?”
Silver shakes his head. “Of– Of course not. But every dream they have of their original world, they fall deeper and deeper. If we do not lose them to the world on the other side of the Mirror, then…” He swallows the anxiety in his voice. “Apologies. I… don’t mean to doubt you, my lord. It just…”
“Speak, Silver,” Malleus urges him. “Do not think for a second that I don’t know what ails you. After all, they occupy my heart as well.”
He bites his lip, feeling pathetically like a child in front of his liege as his eyes sting with tears. “I hate it,” he admits. “I wish they’d stop dreaming about that other world. I just wish—” His breath hitches. “I just wish I had made them happy enough that they’d forget everything and stay with… us.”
His voice trails off, ashamed of his own selfish inhibitions. “This isn’t the sort of thing a knight should think, but I… I’m scared. I don’t want to go hunting people like a mad beast like Sebek does, but…” He buries his face in his hands. “If that would make them happy enough to make them stay…”
“You would do anything,” Malleus finishes for him. Silver, face still hidden, nods. “I can tell. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Silver. I fear that just may be the many mysteries of love.” The prince smiles down at you, thumbing away the creases forming between your brows. “It drives us to do things we wouldn’t do. I thought it was a hindrance, the knot in my chest that forms every time this Child of Man invited me, and yet now I understand. Love is the start of many miracles. That was true for you, for Lilia, for me, for Baur.” He closes his eyes with a pleasant smile.
“That is why, Silver, you must never let go of those that you love.” Opening his eyes, he stares at the young boy with the eyes of a future king, glowing like the devil in the shadows of the room. “Do you understand? To make yourself happy. To make everyone around you happy.”
“Through love and for love, all things are possible.”
All things are possible…
With a renewed purpose, Silver rubs away his tears and stands tall in front of his liege, nodding. “Yes, Lord Malleus, I understand.”
“For love, I must do everything to make sure this love stays.”
a/n ! 🎺🎺🎺 after a full year, we're finally done with the series!! this has been a long ride with +11k word celebrating the finale and hoo boy am i ready to move on to other projects! it has been fun writing my pervy twisted boys, but what turned out to be a self-indulgent project actually turned out to be a full-fleshed plot?! crazy. thanks for sticking with me for a full year everyone~! (also PLEASE PLEASE SILVER AND MALLEUS MAY BE SIMILAR BUT THEY ARE FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT. the brothers are similar but they grieve different) idk why i did that im just a bit insecure that they might be too similar
Imagine that one day as you're walking on a hot sunny path, your hat jumps off your head and lands into a muddy ditch. And you look at your muddy hat and ask it: "What did you do that for?"
"I don't want to be a burden anymore", your hat answers. "You are always carrying me around, and I can't carry you. That's not fair."
"I don't mind carrying you, little idiot", you tell your hat, "you hardly weight anything at all, and you shelter me from the sun."
"But that's different", your hat protests. "I don't mind the sun scorching on me. That happens anyway. It's literally no trouble for me to shade you too."
"Just the same it's no trouble for me to carry you. But now, because you wanted to stop inconveniencing and bothering me, I am now hatless and you are in the dirt."
This reminds me of the time that I asked if anyone had resources on the history of Shinto and while nobody had book recs, turns out an actual Temple Maiden followed me on Tumblr and was down to chat.
The world is fucked when historians and linguists and mathematicians and artists of all kinds are forced to work jobs that suck the soul out of them because they didn’t get the right bit of paper from the right building or be born in the wrong place or something
seriously think about how many absolute geniuses spend their free time mastering some obscure realm of knowledge but have to mop up shit for 8 bucks an hour, or pick vegetables for a nickel
I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein's brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.
[ID: Tweet by Jared🗿🌱🇰🇵 reading "me: hey does anyone have any readings on medieval north African trade networks? 17 follower alcoholic who works at a bakery: [link to 157 page pdf] yeah I think this is pretty enlightening" /End ID]
（ yandere dating sim! twisted wonderland x reader ) part one. part two here
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ 𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗬, you awake in the otome game ‘twisted hearts’ as a run-out-of-the-mill side character. no worries, the love interests are already after yuu. you just gotta stay out of it all, right?
It’s been quite a while since your transmigration, and honestly, things have been going smoothly. You always wake up in Scarabia, take a leisurely stroll through Main Street and watch Yuu — the protagonist of said Otome game — be flanked by a bickering yet endearing trio of Ace, Deuce and Grim. Their voices reverberate in your head as you take your classes, their efforts to subtly woo the Ramshackle Prefect simply background noise as you head to class, heedless yet aware all the same. It’s a little bland, but it’s no biggie. You have no friends, no social life, no nothing — but the ends justify the means, so you persist.
Uh-oh! Your plans go awry right in the midst of your semester when the headmage insists you all opt for joining a club. You want to lay low, but your grade depends on your extracurricular activities, so poor little you has to drag yourself out of your spot by a random, murky tree and comply. In the distance, you hear Yuu pick the basketball club, ever so happy with their ragtag bunch of companions.
As the twisted breeze whistles past your face, you find yourself at a stalemate: wavering between the clubs labeled film studies and mountain lovers; the only clubs having a single member. You vacillate between Vil and Jade; and from what you can remember, neither of them are much fun. Though it’s clear you don’t have to exert yourself over it much longer, because when a random boy bumps by you, ink blots and smudges out the ways of the mountains, already deciding your fate for you.
The meeting spot is somewhere behind somewhere, you keep your head down all the while, even as the silence flourishes into thickness, even as the man of your nightmares sits silently at the far end and grins that cathedral of sharp teeth, just shy of crushing your spirit.
“A member?” Suave as he is, you don’t miss the glister of disappointment in his eyes (expecting someone else, someone named Yuu). Jade is far prettier in person, but you don’t dwell on it for long. “How unexpected.”
He does not deign to ask your name, a reason for gratitude, and so your woebegone, mundane routine continues. You find his composed and charming exterior belies his passion for mushrooms beneath, and it becomes a habit of yours to put an end to him prating before he’s left unchecked forevermore. He rewards you with a cool chuckle, streaks of noctilucent teal slanting along with the tilt of his head. It’s all rehearsed, isn’t it? Jade, even when he acknowledges you, couldn’t be any more robotic.
“During my usual trek,” Jade explains, lashes dipping towards a pale cluster of such umbrella-shaped bodies. “I happened to come across these earlier. You’ll find they grow in peculiar places.”
“Everything here grows in peculiar places,” The forest scent floods your nose as you breathe in. “That’s kind of the brand.”
Jade’s smile does not falter. “How delightfully pragmatic.”
You reach out and poke one of the mushrooms. It yields under your finger, the texture oh-so real, even as it springs back. Vaguely recalling a bad ending recalling spores, you add: “Don’t eat that.”
“I hadn’t intended to,” he replies, and you don’t miss the flicker of surprise coursing through his mismatched gaze. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the reaction was authentic. “Though I appreciate your concern.”
“It’s not concern,” You turn away, and Jade’s stare scorches the fabric of your clothes. Moisture-laden grass squelches beneath the accidentally aggressive tempo of your boots, and you hope he doesn’t store the sound away as emotion. “If you die, I have to find a new club.”
When your ears crane for the sound of his approaching footsteps, you get a soft chuckle in its stead.
“How reassuring. I shall endeavor to remain alive, then.”
And to think he still doesn’t know your name.
That’s how your days go, and that’s all they’ll be limited to. On Tuesday, you take a tour of Main Street again, and find the eel inexorably staring at the visage of the prefect, so vehemently absorbed in his thoughts as they chatter off to someone faceless. You move, and Jade does not, staying true to the script. You almost feel bad, until the bell rings and you’re forced to take another lesson of flight, listening to Vargas yammer and run his mouth. Strangely so, even the teacher is not privy to your name. How delightfully pragmatic. In turn, you find yourself foraking your duties to Jade’s mushroom lineage.
“Evading your club activities?” You flinch awake from your near nap, head lolling to the side. The familiar voice somehow chimes in even as you sink into the shadows. Jade must be passing by, you think, there’s no other reason he’d willingly approach you. “Dare I ask, are you perhaps displeased with me?”
“Nah.” You quirk a brow at him. Displeased? Of what? “Just needed a break.”
“Ah.” The corners of his lips unravel to reveal that pointy smile you hate. “That certainly eases my worries.”
Standing up, you shrug off your drowsiness. But just as you move — snip — your foot catches on the edge of the bench, and you’re sent headfirst into the ground.
“Careful,”
A firm hold seizes your arm. Bleary-eyed, you blink up at Jade in a daze, the sunlight pooling over the panes of his complexion. “I would hate for my only club member to injure themselves.”
“Your only club member would hate that too.”
A small incline of his head.
“How fortunate we are in our alignment.”
He releases you, the pressure ebbs away as his tall stature’s reduced to a tiny little speck in your vision.
On Wednesday, you willingly skip out on the club meeting and decide to hone your flight skills once more. You catch sight of the prefect sauntering off elsewhere, and trailing after them is one more anomaly. Surprisingly so, Jade does not approach you again, a confirmation that he had not indeed sought after you yesterday. It was more so a twist of fate, and you wonder if he’s already occupied in seeking the prefect out.
Nevertheless, you digress. You abide by your flight class regulations. Until, well... something bonks you over the head and you get a concussion.
“Ah—! Wait, wait, are you okay?!”
There’s a face above you now, bright and frantic and entirely too close. Sunlight halos his warm visage, and the red pools cast your own likeness back at you.
“I didn’t see you! You just kind of— appeared— no, that sounds like I’m blaming you, I’m not blaming you— are you hurt?!”
You blink once, wondering if you should offer formalities to your housewarden.
“…You hit me with a broom.”
“Yes! No— I mean— I did, but not on purpose!”
“…That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know!! I’m sorry!”
You soothe his worries, and he seems ever so desperate to call for Jamil and seek the aid of someone more well-versed in... well, whatever this is. He doesn’t know what to do, you tell yourself, and somehow, that’s how you find yourself back at Scarabia as Kalim accompanies you to the building, fussing over you and the growing bruise on your temple.
Kalim hands you tea, atypical of him even in the absence of his other companion. The padded seats have you all warm and comfortable, and soon enough, you find yourself lost in a one-sided conversation entirely (deprived of something as normal as this for a long, long time).
“You look kind of familiar,” He smiles and your shoulders loosen. “Have we met before?”
“You’re my housewarden.”
“Ohh! That’s why!” The touch of happiness is not scrubbed off his face, even at the tip of your bluntness. It’s a pretty smile, you think.
“Yup..”
“Yes!” He mimics. “I’m Kalim Al-Asim! Oh— wait, I should’ve started with that, sorry— what’s your name?”
You freeze.
A simple, harmless, entirely normal question, yet you find yourself prodding for its reason all the more.
“…Why?”
He blinks.
“Why…? Because I just hit you with a broom.”
“That’s not usually when people ask.”
“Well, I feel like I should know who I’m apologizing to! That’s just polite!”
For once, a smile graces your lips and you give him your name. He reciprocates your ... measly enthusiasm and invites you to a plethora of parties (forgetting you’re already a Scarabia resident)
Masquerade! hide your face so the world'll never found you
SUMMARY: You're always supposed to travel with the delegation, whether you want to or not. This time, you did want to attend the festival—but Crowley decided your name wasn't on the official list.
Naturally, you ignored him. With Grim at your side and a plan held together by stubbornness alone, you slipped into Fleur City and its dazzling masquerade—the most colorful, musical night the city had to offer.
The only problem? You hadn’t planned on running into the seven dorm leaders of NRC…or on being personally escorted by them straight to the gates of Noble Bell College.
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Kalim Al-Asim / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia x F!Yuu (reader) ft. Crowley and Rollo Flamme
TAGS: crack, humor, drama, flirting without knowing.
WORD COUNT: 23k
COMMENTS: this is hella long, so buckle up!! I took some narrative liberties, maybe not entirely event canon but oh well, there's full chaos.
Soundtrack recommendation: God help the outcast - Topsy Turvy - The Bell Tower - Paris Burning - Make a Wish - Masquerade - Bells of Notre Dame
What does one have to do to get a little peace in the middle of a haunted dormitory that’s almost crumbling down to its foundations, with a cat shooting fire left and right?
That was what you were thinking when a letter showed up carried along by a cascade of black feathers. It was as if peace and order didn’t exist in the vocabulary of this magic-filled school.
One moment Ramshackle was quiet, or as quiet as it could get with Grim arguing with one of the ghosts, who had stolen a can of tuna just to mess with him, and the next, a whirl of glossy black feathers burst in through the broken window and spiraled dramatically down onto the first steps of the lounge staircase.
“HEY! We’re under attack!” Grim growled, jumping back when the envelope landed with an unnecessarily theatrical thump on the coffee table. “Protect me, Henchman!”
You sighed, keeping Grim upright as he climbed up your arm until he settled on your shoulder. You picked up the letter and looked it over; burgundy-colored, with a wax seal faintly gleaming in gold.
A letter that screamed official and important no matter how you looked at it.
It definitely wasn’t a bill or some annoying request from the administration. Crowley never handed those out in person, much less with a flock of black feathers; which meant the bird-brained headmaster was nearby.
And with that, the front door swung wide open on its own with a creak.
“Well, well, my most honorable and dependable residents!” he said in a voice far too cheerful and far too polished, stepping into the dorm as if it belonged to him and not like he had dumped it on you in terrible condition. “What fortune to find both of you at home! Truly, the stars themselves align for the diligent!”
Grim shot him a flat look and narrowed his eyes. “When you talk like that it means nothing good”
Crowley brushed off the comment with professional skill. “My dear prefect,” he continued, turning toward you with a wide smile, his cape swishing as if he had practiced the move in the mirror about ten times. “I require your presence in my office immediately. It concerns a matter of prestige, honor, and, naturally, inter-academic relations”
In other words… trouble.
You glanced sideways at Grim; the cat met your look, and you murmured to him when you saw Crowley turn to head out of the lounge without even checking whether you were following or not. “Yeah, nothing good ever comes from him”
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The office gleamed and buzzed more than usual, once again showing off dear Headmaster Crowley’s vanity.
The dorm leaders were gathered around the table, composed, radiating different levels of authority, boredom, or barely-contained chaos. Kalim was practically vibrating with happiness, just like Idia… although he was probably vibrating because he wanted to go back and lock himself inside his room; the fact that he was here, surrounded by people, was already an achievement.
Yes, obviously something was about to go down.
There were expectant looks from the others—except Leona, obviously. He was one step away from turning around and heading off to sleep in his usual spot in the botanical garden. The atmosphere had that specific tense shine that meant the announcement about to drop was going to be, indeed, catastrophic.
You took your place beside Kalim, who bumped your hip in greeting and grinned from ear to ear. You returned the gesture, lightly bumping his hip back, and let Grim settle himself on top of your head.
Crowley cleared his throat, which was always the beginning of one of his boring, overly theatrical, and unbearable monologues.
“My dear dorm leaders,” his eyes gleamed at the sight of the seven young men waiting in front of him. Grim coughed, and Crowley’s expression tightened slightly. “And prefect,” he continued. “Today we have received an extraordinary honor”
With a flourish, he raised seven invitations, seven burgundy letters with shining golden seals.
“Noble Bell College has kindly sent official invitations requesting the presence of representatives from Night Raven College at their upcoming cultural festival”
Your eyes widened. An event outside NRC, allowing you to explore more of this world and see another school; considering they barely let you leave for the nearby town on the Island of Sages, and RSA was still out of the question— that school was still a mystery to you.
So Noble Bell College would be your next magical stop.
Grim looked excited too, gripping your hair tightly and whispering to himself all the things he was already plotting in his small and chaotic head about what he was going to do: eat lots of tasty things, maybe sweets or bread, or tuna made in some way he had never tried before; the possibilities were endless for your little cat.
“And to enhance the experience, the school will treat this event as a masquerade. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Okay, the pinnacle of dramatics—very Twisted Wonderland and very Crowley… you like it.
Crowley was smiling like a man who definitely intended to send teenagers straight into imminent student chaos. He opened one of the invitations and read the contents in his characteristic dramatic voice.
“The event celebrates unity, refinement, and the highest traditions of academia. Naturally, they have requested our… most distinguished students. And of course this dear and most generous headmaster”
And that was where the seven invitations came into play. Seven letters addressed to each of the seven dorm leaders… and to no one else. He didn’t mention the vice leaders’ names, nor your name, nor Grim’s.
Crowley lowered the letter with a satisfied nod. “And with that, the official delegation is concluded”
On your end, silence. A small, polite silence, while the others were already straightening their postures, ready to hear when they would depart and how they should present themselves.
Then Crowley’s head tilted, looking forward, not directly at you, nor at Grim, as if remembering something slightly inconvenient. His eyes were fixed firmly on the office door.
“Ah! But of course… our reliable prefect!” he turned toward you with a bright, performative smile. “As the head of Ramshackle dorm, it would be inappropriate not to include you in this announcement. Transparency is the hallmark of this benevolent administration, after all.”
You heard Leona snort loudly, as if the words “benevolent administration” were completely accurate. If you weren’t harboring a bad feeling right then and there, you would have snorted along with him.
Grim puffed out his chest when he saw that the headmaster was now addressing his beloved henchman. “I knew it! We’re going to—”
“However…” Crowley cut him off, and you felt Grim’s tail deflate against the back of your head. The bird-brain laced his fingers together in front of him. “The invitation, unfortunately, extends specifically to recognized magical students who participate in the official exchange. As you do not possess any measurable magical ability…”
Grim opened his mouth to argue back, ready to launch a fireball that would leave him flat on his back after such humiliation.
“Master Grim, you and the prefect are essentially one student,” he cut him off again. “And given that Ramshackle is, shall we say, administratively… unique…” he made a vague motion with his hand, annoyed at having to find the word that best fit the situation without making it more tense than it already was.
Reading between the lines: you’re not invited, and neither is the cat. It’s not negotiable. Not even by accident.
Crowley gave a sympathetic nod, his eyes showing a very well-acted sadness. “How unfortunate! Truly unfortunate. Perhaps next time”
Next time… like being told there was no more of the cake you liked in the cafeteria and you’d have to wait until tomorrow to eat it. Or like being told you had to try a little harder on the next assignment.
As if you hadn’t literally fought overblots throughout the school year, monsters, ghosts, and whatever the hell lives in the school’s ventilation ducts.
Life isn’t fair, right?
The other leaders didn’t react strongly, but they didn’t give you the reactions you expected either. A couple of shrugs, Kalim looking at you with genuine sadness at not being able to enjoy the evening by your side.
Crowley broke the silence, and the damn spell, with a clap. “Very well then! Preparations begin immediately!”
The meeting dissolved into excited chatter from the headmaster and completely formal, rather critically thought-out discussion from the leaders. Malleus, in particular, looked especially fascinated by the idea of having been invited.
Grim’s tail flicked over your shoulder. “…they’re really not taking us”
The office suddenly felt a little louder… and a little farther away while the two of you watched the others discuss travel plans, formal attire provided by the school, speculation about the festival, music, foreign food.
“Make sure to keep the dorm in order while we’re away, prefect! Such an important responsibility!” Crowley waved a hand at you, signaling you were already dismissed from the meeting.
Grim’s ears flattened against his small head as you headed for the exit.
“…this is bullshit.”
“Yeah,” you huffed. “Yeah, it really is.”
The murmuring followed you out of the office like static.
Crowley was talking louder than usual, Vil was already arguing about the weight of the luggage and the makeup he’d have to do for everyone, yes, even Leona, whom you heard growl when Vil so much as mentioned it. Azul was bringing up the odds of expanding NRC’s prestige to other cities and colleges.
None of it helped.
Grim walked beside you on two legs, stomping down the hallway, his tail bristling, the claws of his hind paws visible and tapping against the stone.
“This is a total scam!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the stone corridor. “We beat ghosts, monsters, more overblots than I can count—”
“—and we still aren’t ‘official’ enough for a school trip,” you finished with the same level of offense.
“EXACTLY!” Grim threw his paws into the air.
You shoved the castle doors open harder than necessary, grumbling under your breath. That damn bird-brain was really getting under your skin; any moment now you’d kick him in the rear so hard you’d send him flying… if it weren’t for the small amount of money the school administration paid you.
The cool afternoon air hit your face, but it didn’t loosen the tight knot in your chest. The voices continued behind you, just as enthusiastic; a glance over your shoulder was enough to make you blow out a breath and start walking down the steps.
“Even Idia’s going,” you muttered.
Maybe bringing up the most antisocial and anxious guy in the school wasn’t the fairest or most honorable move right now, but you were really angry. Not at him, obviously, you were angry at the damn headmaster.
“RIGHT?!” Grim went down the steps jumping two at a time, ears pointed up and seconds away from shouting all the injustices he had suffered thanks to our beloved headmaster. “That guy considers opening his bedroom door a major life event!”
You flinched. “Okay, that was too much, Grim,” you said, your voice a little sharp, staring at the steps because you knew that the moment you took your eyes off the stone it was statistically likely you’d trip, considering the anger leaking out of every pore.
“Hey! You started it” He raised a paw and pointed at you.
“Yeah, well…” you continued, “I didn’t mean it to put him down. Idia comes from a prestigious family and has plenty of money...of course he got an invitation.” You crossed your arms as you reached the last steps. “What’s surprising is that he’s physically going”
Grim kicked a pebble down the steps and jumped the last stretch again.
“He’s physically going and we’re stuck here doing… what. Guarding our dorm from the ghosts we already live with?”
You crossed your arms tighter and rolled your eyes. “I can’t even step off campus without paperwork, supervision, or a miracle,” your voice came out laced with venom, and with every second you were losing what little patience you had left. Spiraling with a grumpy cat wasn’t helping the situation. “But sure, let’s send the entire walking disaster of NRC abroad”
“I should be famous,” he growled. “Hero Grim saves the day again! Where’s my cultural exchange, huh?”
You snorted a laugh despite everything. “Apparently saving the school multiple times doesn’t count as an extracurricular activity”
You crossed the courtyard, the fountain, the last stretch of stone that led toward the castle’s back doors and the path back to Ramshackle. The words kept coming out—half complaints, half that tired bitterness that shows up when something unfair hits a little too close.
When you reached the door, the bridge visible connecting the next stretch of poorly kept land, you stopped. Grim kept walking, now on four paws, and lifted his tail when he realized you had stopped and he was crossing the bridge alone.
You looked at the horizon, spotting the haunted house in the distance and the perfect midday sun over the skyline.
The idea began to take shape slowly, putting down roots little by little, but decisively. The solution to both your frustrations was right there; simple, obvious, both stupid and perfect.
“Why did you stop?” Grim asked, walking back toward you.
You didn’t answer right away. You let the idea keep forming in your mind, running through all the chances of it going right and the ones where it wouldn’t, mapping out everything needed for it to actually work.
Your fingers tapped against your arm. “…it’s a masquerade”
Grim tilted his head. “…yeah?”
Your eyes met his, now wide as he looked at you in a way he hadn’t all year. Your face carried an expression that meant trouble; the kind of trouble that historically ended in explosions, rule violations, accidental heroics, and at least three disciplinary reports from Crewel.
“A masquerade ball,” you repeated slowly, tilting your head toward him, silently urging him to catch on quickly. “Everyone wears masks”
Grim’s ears twitched.
“No one’s supposed to stand out,” you crouched down so you were closer to him. “No one’s supposed to know who’s who”
You let the words settle in his mind, letting the silence guide the realization. One second passed, two, three—until Grim’s eyes flew open wide, pupils dilating and his tail shooting upright as your words finally clicked.
“Oh… you’re kidding”
Your lips curled into a dangerous smile, the kind that promised a thousand reprimands if you got caught, but that would be worth every damn second.
“If no one knows who’s who,” you said quietly, making sure the conversation stayed between the two of you, “then no one knows who wasn’t invited either”
Grim gasped like someone had just handed him the keys to a kingdom made entirely of cans and cans of fresh tuna.
“Prefect… who would’ve thought you could be so devious”
“We definitely shouldn’t do this,” you said, staring at him.
“…but we’re going to do it anyway,” he shot back.
A second of silence passed. Then another. And a third.
“Yeah.”
“HEIST MODE!” Grim threw his paws in the air, jumping with excitement.
You shut the castle door, not a trace of frustration left on your face. No, that had disappeared, replaced by determination. Who would’ve thought your mind could be just as troublesome as Ace’s?
Your steps were decisive, and you didn’t head toward Ramshackle. If you were going to sneak into a cultural event where formality and proper attire were the currency, nothing in that dusty shack would do. No; there weren’t any clothes formal enough or well-made enough there without getting you exposed the moment you set foot, or paw, into the cultural event.
“We need supplies,” you said, veering off the path to the right, following the dirt road.
“Supplies to commit a crime?”
“Supplies to attend formally without prior authorization”
“…crime then,” Grim confirmed, running after you.
The path to Sam’s shop felt like walking deeper and deeper into a very bad idea; and at the same time, a very promising one. The campus stretched around you, wrapped in that late-afternoon haze where the stone towers glowed gold and the buzz of excitement over the news drifted through the cool air.
“Okay, but... I can’t just put on a mask and call it a day. I’m a talking, flame-shooting, very handsome cat”
“Yes, that’s the main problem” Sam’s shack was already in sight—just a few more yards and you’d step into territory both familiar and unknown, ready to show off its haunted wonders.
“My ears! My tail! My flames! My incredible natural charisma, nya!”
“Mostly the flames” you gave him a look.
Grim deflated a little. “…yeah, okay, the flames”
A few more steps and you were already standing in front of the shack. That mystical atmosphere around it always made the hairs on your arms stand on end.
You pushed open the crooked wooden door and a small bell chimed. The air inside the shop wrapped around you like warm smoke, carrying a faint scent of cinnamon, something that made the place feel both comforting and creepy. The shelves were stacked to the top with all kinds of things: enchanted fabrics, suspiciously labeled bottles, and objects that definitely moved when you weren’t looking straight at them. You could swear a pearl necklace you had seen on a shelf near the door was now resting on a display in the main window.
“Well, well,” Sam’s smooth, enchanted voice echoed through the shop from behind the counter. When he had gotten there, you had no idea—five seconds ago the counter had been completely empty. “If it isn’t my favorite prefect… and judging by the look on your face and on your cute and definitely not troublesome cat…” he leaned forward, “…you’re not here for anything legal.”
Grim puffed out his chest, slightly offended by the comment, but he was still the first to speak, or rather, yell.
“We need stealth!”
You’re never going to get that by shouting
Sam’s smile widened, as dangerous as someone could look while being the entrepreneur running one of the most useful and necessary shops on a school campus. “Say no more”
With a snap of his fingers, the counter suddenly looked like the backstage of a theatrical crime, or a theater dressing room, which worked better for carrying out the plan.
Masks, capes, gloves, fabric samples, a monocle that Grim definitely tried on and that you definitely didn’t let him keep; with the way he walked he’d break it any second.
Sam tapped the counter thoughtfully with one finger.
“So,” his voice sounded as soft as velvet, but you knew underneath it hid the layer of a hardened entrepreneur who always kept an enchanted clause up his sleeve, “you need formal masquerade outfits convincing enough… while hiding the presence of a highly combustible feline”
Grim bristled. “HMNYA! I’m not combustible—!”
“How did you know we needed masquerade outfits?” you cut in. Your eyes narrowed at Sam suspiciously.
“My Queen… nothing happens in this school without me hearing about it.” It was a vague answer, but also a very unsettling one. But this wasn’t the moment to stop and argue, so for now you let it slide.
“He’s the real problem. I can blend in with a dress—”
“And masking your scent.” You still weren’t used to the way Sam interrupted conversations to drop information as if you were already supposed to know what it meant.
“Excuse me?”
“If my informants haven’t failed me,” Sam drummed his fingers on the counter and gave you a sly look, “a certain lion and a high fae will be attending the event, meaning they would be the first to spot both of you just by catching your scent.”
Damn it. He was right.
“…okay, point taken” You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that you’d have to pay for more than just fancy clothes. “With something to mask my scent, a dress, and a mask, I can blend in. But him…” you pointed at Grim without looking at him, “he needs to look… like a normal familiar.”
Sam hummed and gave Grim a full look from head to toe—and if it had been biologically possible, he would’ve circled him with his eyes.
“Not normal,” he corrected at last. “Expected”
“…expected?” you repeated, frowning.
Sam opened a drawer and pulled out a violet velvet cloak with a hood; deep, formal, the kind that screamed ceremonial elegance. Another of the great mysteries of Sam’s shop: who knows why the entrepreneur had a cloak exactly Grim’s size waiting inside a drawer.
“Cultural events in magical academies bring familiars all the time,” Sam commented as he adjusted the hood over Grim’s ears. “Magical creatures, bound spirits, enchanted companions. Half the time nobody even knows what species they are”
The cloak, now arranged over Grim’s small body, wrapped around him completely, barely showing his shape. The fall of the fabric looked heavy and dramatic; the flames of his ears illuminated the inside in a way that felt very theatrical and very on-theme. Then Sam added a carved masquerade mask, elongated, elegant, slightly decorated with claw-like details but still stylized enough to look ceremonial rather than suspicious.
Only Grim’s bright eyes were visible beneath the shadow of the hood and mask. Sam stepped back, admiring his work.
“With the hood down, the mask set properly forward, and strict instructions not to shout…”
Grim shifted his posture. Now almost none of his face showed and his tail was hidden neatly beneath the cloak. Suddenly he looked less like “chaotic campus threat” and more like “arcane familiar belonging to someone extremely important.”
“…wow,” Grim whispered when he saw his cloaked figure reflected in the glass of the counter.
“Pretty convincing,” you added.
Sam’s smile widened as he leaned over the counter, both hands holding up his head. “Exactly”
“I look expensive” Grim spun in a small circle to admire himself, the heavy cloak barely making a dramatic swirl and giving no hint that he might be exposed when he moved.
“You are expensive,” you shot back. “You eat like you’ve got a black hole in your stomach”
Grim decided to ignore you and kept spinning around admiring himself. Sam, meanwhile, straightened and clapped his hands once, making your attention snap back to him.
“Now for you, prefect”
Another snap of his fingers and a dress slid onto the counter—dark, outrageously expensive fabric, black brocade with elegant lace details and a red overlay that made the black stand out even more. Off-shoulder, low-cut, with a skirt that would obviously require a crinoline.
Elegant wasn’t the right word, it was more than that. It was refined, breathing opulence and formality. Semi-transparent sleeves, ruffles and lace layered over more lace.
“A mask that hides, not dazzles” Sam placed a light black fabric mask on the counter, decorated with brocade and gothic embroidery, soft to the touch and perfect for covering half your face. “The best disguise isn’t the loudest one…”
He set the last pieces down on the counter: a choker of black pearls with a rose in the center, the strands long enough that when worn they would drape over the shoulders; a pair of short black lace gloves; and a very gothic-style hat, pompous, with a fall of fabric that resembled a veil.
A very gothic set… perfect for a masquerade.
“…but the one no one remembers”
You lifted the dress carefully with both hands, making sure not to snag the lace on anything, not even the buttons of your uniform.
“…how much is this going to hurt?” you asked cautiously. You knew a dress this extravagant wasn’t cheap.
Sam leaned on the counter again. “Oh, don’t worry” He paused dramatically, clearly fascinated by how your whole body tensed as you worried internally. “This goes on credit”
“Oh… that’s worse,” Grim whispered in horror.
Sam burst out laughing and straightened again, quite satisfied with himself at the sight of the desperate, horrified expressions on both your faces.
“Relax. Consider it… an investment in the chaos the two of you are about to unleash at an international diplomatic event”
You and Grim exchanged a knowing look.
Yeah… that sounded about right.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
Fleur City shone as if it had stepped straight out of a Renaissance painting.
The warm glow of lanterns spilled across the white stone streets, reflecting in long ribbons of gold and amber. Garlands of flowers hung from the balconies, woven so densely that the scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, sweet and heavy. From somewhere along the cobblestone corners came music: violins, laughter, the slow rhythmic pulse of festival trumpets.
Around you there were people, so many people. It was barely possible to walk peacefully through the streets. Carnival decorations and food and trinket stalls made both you and Grim stop every five steps.
And everywhere… masks. White porcelain, golden filigree, feathers, silks, velvet. Cloaks gliding over the stone and polished shoes gleaming in the lanternlight. There were no faces, no questions, no names.
You adjusted the delicate fabric mask slightly as you moved with the crowd, letting the flow of festival guests carry you naturally along the wide avenue leading to the central plaza. In the daylight the dress blended in exactly as Sam had promised: elegant and formal, perfectly matching the spirit of the festival—just another face in the tide.
Beside you, a small hooded figure walked with a rather exaggerated air of importance, little paws tapping lightly against the stone as he took one step, then another. Grim walked as if he were leading his own theatrical march toward the main stage.
“This is the best thing we’ve ever done in our lives” Even though his steps were determined, and fairly amusing to watch from your taller perspective, Grim’s words came out in a whisper; for once he had understood he needed to keep his voice down.
“You also said that when you stole extra pudding from the cafeteria” You gathered your skirt with one hand, adjusting it so you wouldn’t end up face-first on the ground. The dress was beautiful, yes, but the crinoline made walking a bit difficult.
“THAT WAS HISTORIC TOO!” Apparently his lesson in stealth hadn’t lasted long. You hid a smile behind the back of your hand.
Grim looked around at the glowing towers, the decorated bridges, the endless swirl of masked students and nobles. Your gaze drifted to the pink and violet decorations hanging between the rustic, colorful houses. One more step and you nearly collided with the long leg of someone obviously walking on stilts. You managed to turn in time and grabbed Grim so he wouldn’t get crushed under the wooden stilts.
“Woow” Grim settled into your arms and lifted his head to watch the person gracefully walking toward the end of the avenue. “This place is insane”
He wasn’t wrong.
Farther ahead there were people dressed in multicolored outfits—diamonds and pompoms, ribbons and exaggerated patterns showing off immense amounts of fabric in sleeves and trousers. Orange and red jesters, violet and burgundy ones too, with painted faces and five-pointed hats tipped with bells. The lantern lights flickered along the walls of the houses and the stone structures, turning the shop windows into vivid, deep colors. In the main plaza, dancers spun—skirts and cloaks flashing in carefully choreographed circles.
Everything around you looked mundanely normal, peaceful within the limits of what a carnival could call “peaceful.” No fire, no chaos, no problems to solve.
“With this many people, it’ll be impossible for them to find us,” Grim said as he jumped back down to the ground to keep walking.
“If you say it out loud, you’ll jinx it”
“Right. Silence. Stealth mode”
You moved deeper into the plaza, letting the enormous scale of the festival unfold around you. Masked performers breathed streams of colored fire, puppeteers staged small dramatic and amusing shows for the children, and the food stalls now had floating lanterns illuminating them in orange and ochre tones, making the shine of the food look even more appetizing.
Grim sniffed as he stopped in front of one of the stalls.
“…is that roasted meat?”
You sighed and grabbed him by the sides, lifting him until he was level with the food on the stall.
“One stall. And eat quietly”
“BEST HENCHMAN IN HISTORY!”
He jumped toward the vendor, still trying to look dignified in the ceremonial cloak—and failing completely the moment food entered the equation.
You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the slow, dangerous smile spreading across your face as you watched him try to cram two roasted meat skewers into his mouth in one bite.
For the first time since the invitation announcement, the pressure in your chest eased. You hadn’t been left behind. You hadn’t been left out. This might not be entirely legal—and if you got caught the punishment would probably be worse than anything Ace and Deuce had ever gotten—but seeing Grim enjoy himself was worth every second you spent outside Ramshackle.
You’d do it again a thousand times. To hell with Crowley and his official invitations. You had the right to enjoy an event without worrying about running errands for the headmaster.
“Target located” Grim sniffed the air again after finishing the meat. “Honey buns with a light sugar glaze, ten steps ahead”
What a remarkable nose
“Grim, slow down,” you said, walking after him at a reasonably quick pace.
“You’re the slow one” Unfortunately, he had a point about the damn crinoline. You were starting to hate it a little more with every step.
You lifted the skirt with both hands, mentally calculating how much more you could afford to spend at the festival. Considering how much this cat ate, and how little you had managed to eat thanks to the nerves from traveling through the mirror, you’d have to find some way to stop Grim from devouring everything in sight.
“I said one stall!” You barely raised your voice, but Grim ignored you, as always when he didn’t want to hear that you were right.
As you followed him, out of the corner of your eye you spotted a pair of figures you absolutely did not want to spot heading your way.
On the other side of the plaza, near the staircase leading to the main road toward the cathedral, a very specific formation of figures held a perfect alignment: Crowley at the front, with seven leaders behind him, each displaying different levels of diplomacy, excitement, or boredom.
Riddle walked with a rigid posture even in this festive setting, though he wasn’t oblivious to the fun happening around him. Leona was slouched, visibly bored at being dragged into an official event. Azul carried himself with a calculating air, probably already visualizing his next clients. Kalim was the most energetic of them all, practically glowing even while standing still. Vil was sculpted perfection, every step immaculate. Idia was trying to occupy the smallest possible amount of physical and emotional space. And Malleus simply followed the flow of people, hands behind his back, looking around with complete fascination.
Crowley, meanwhile, walked with an annoyingly radiant and pompous stride while speaking with another figure: tall, composed, with a firm and controlled posture. If you had to guess, that person wrapped in an air of ceremonial authority must have been someone important from Noble Bell College.
Your throat let out a tiny squeak and your shoulders curled inward. You were in danger mode.
You stepped sideways, avoiding turning your back on them all, but also not walking backward so obviously that it would make it clear your focus was on those figures who weren’t threatening at first glance—but were extremely inconvenient for your enjoyment. You reached Grim just as he was about to buy a small honey bun and crouched to whisper in his ear.
“Don’t even think about moving”
Grim’s small body went completely rigid. “What’s going on?”
“If you turn two degrees to the left,” you continued, the dorm leaders getting closer and closer, “you’ll be in their direct line of sight”
Grim, completely ignoring your instruction, slowly followed your gaze, barely turning his body to get a good look. Then he inhaled so sharply he nearly vacuumed the honey bun straight into his mouth.
You clamped a hand over his mouth and grabbed his cloak, dragging him behind the stall and hiding behind the side canvas. The vendor shot you both an irritated look but said nothing, another customer was already asking for an entire bag of buns.
“Okay, new plan” You let go of Grim’s mouth but still signaled for silence. Now he had to act like a normal familiar. “We walk calmly in the opposite direction, and you… quiet”
Grim nodded with the intensity of someone trying very hard to be stealthy and stay out of trouble, still holding the sweet in one paw. You adjusted him on your arm and stepped away from the stall.
One step. Then another. And a third.
Someone in the crowd suddenly turned toward your direction. You bumped their shoulder, jolting back in surprise.
“—Sorry!” you blurted automatically, trying to step backward.
Exactly the wrong move.
Because stepping back made you collide with someone else in the crowd. Your shoe stepped on an expensive, heavy cloak, and as you lifted your foot to avoid ruining it further, your heel caught on the uneven stone. You felt your balance tip backward.
For one horrible second, the world tilted; the lantern light, the masks, the people, the realization of oh yes, this is how we die… physically or from embarrassment, falling face-first in front of a crowd.
But the fall never came.
A gloved hand shot forward and caught your wrist just in time, stopping you a few inches before disaster.
“…please be careful,” a smooth, composed voice said. “These festival streets can be treacherous if one isn’t paying attention”
You turned your head toward the voice and saw Azul looking at you with concern...but without the slightest hint of recognition. Your disguise was working perfectly, even in a situation as dangerous as the one you were currently in.
You straightened carefully, pulse hammering, but posture controlled. Out of nervous reflex you adjusted Grim’s hood so his face was completely hidden, forcing his body to hunch so he’d look like an ordinary cat.
“Thank you,” you said in a neutral voice, though anyone paying attention might have noticed the nervous edge and the faint grinding of teeth as you forced yourself not to scream.
Azul released your wrist slowly, waiting for you to fix your dress before stepping back to a polite distance, still close enough while observing you with that sharp, polite curiosity so characteristic of someone whose entire life ran on information.
Behind him, the others had already turned, abandoning whatever conversation they had been having. Six new pairs of eyes locked onto you—the young lady unlucky enough to collide with the octopus entrepreneur.
Grim made a small strangled noise inside his hood, and you felt a tiny vibration against your arm. It was obvious he wanted to bolt as fast as his four paws could carry him, and if you were honest with yourself… you wanted to do the same.
You didn’t look at anyone in particular; certainly not at Crowley, nor at the tall, composed figure representing Noble Bell College in this diplomatic procession. You made the smallest formal bow of your head, the kind appropriate for slipping by unnoticed even after such a collision. You even tilted your hat slightly lower to cover more of your face.
“Apologies for the collision. The crowd is… lively tonight”
Vil’s gaze traveled over you from head to toe. Knowing him, he was evaluating the outfit the way an art critic would analyze a gallery piece; or in this case, the way Vil always did, searching for wrinkles, imperfections, or cracks.
That crack was about to split wide open if he didn’t stop looking at you so intently.
“Finally someone who knows how to dress appropriately,” he murmured loud enough that everyone else heard.
“Hey! We’re all dressed for the occasion,” Kalim huffed, though he didn’t sound offended.
“Yes, because we were dressed” Vil replied.
If that was the case, then point to Vil.
“Watch where you’re stepping next time” Leona exhaled through his nose.
“That is no way to address a young lady!” Vil snapped back, shooting him the most venomous look imaginable without losing an ounce of grace or letting a single wrinkle touch his face.
Leona simply crossed his arms and held Vil’s stare. The tension between rivals was thick enough to feel.
Azul took the opportunity to cut through that tension and prevent an international incident. He inclined his head toward you again, adjusting his glove.
“Well then,” he said, extending his hand toward you, palm open and facing up, “please be careful, miss—”
Your entire body went rigid in a single heartbeat. On your arm, Grim was seconds away from combusting from the stress this situation was causing him.
You returned the slight bow of your head, just formal enough not to raise suspicion despite your heart pounding at a thousand beats per minute.
“Isn’t the whole point of tonight that we don’t ask those kinds of questions?”
There was a pause long enough for you to offer a sideways smile, hoping you hadn’t sounded rude.
Vil’s lips curled upward slightly, approving, almost amused, mentally acknowledging that at least someone knew the rules of the evening.
Azul’s smile changed immediately, shifting from his usual interrogation-ready expression to one suited for social performance.
“Ah,” he murmured. “Quite right. My mistake. A masquerade loses its charm when identities come to light”
Okay. The plan was working beautifully—far better than you had expected. You made a mental note to thank Sam for that potion masking your essence, since neither Leona nor Malleus seemed suspicious of anything.
“If it helps,” you said, testing the waters a little more to confirm your theory, “I’ve never seen figures quite so… unique” Your gaze drifted across each of them. “So your identities would remain a mystery—with or without masks”
Riddle gave a small nod at your comment. “Indeed. The evening discourages such personal revelations unless they are formally necessary”
Thank the Seven that Riddle bought it. And luckily for you, it seemed Idia had too, he was muttering in the background nonstop.
“Thank the gods… minimal social interaction with anonymity settings enabled…”
You let out a quiet breath through your nose, trying to keep it as subtle as possible despite the pressure tightening in your chest during such a surreal interaction. You bowed your head again, ready to give your farewell and move along, taking your first steps toward the plaza.
That should have been the end of it.
“Although…”
Damn it, Azul.
His voice rose again, smooth and composed, turning just enough to place himself at your side as you began to walk.
“It would be negligence on my part not to ensure the safety of the young lady I nearly caused to fall”
Vil moved at the same time, with a grace so natural it was almost insulting; suddenly you had two impeccably dressed elites flanking you like the most elegant bodyguards in the world.
“Cobblestone streets tend to be uneven—especially in heels,” Vil commented, evaluating your posture. Of course he would notice that beneath all those meters of expensive fabric you were wearing heels. Not very high, but high enough to alter your height. “And the crowd is quite enthusiastic, as you mentioned earlier. You shouldn’t be wandering alone”
Azul nodded slightly, adjusting his glasses. “Particularly when a certain tendency toward accidents has already been demonstrated”
The arm holding Grim tightened slightly, drawing a faint squeak from him that only you heard. You looked from side to side, first at Azul, then at Vil, and your gaze dropped straight to the cobblestones.
Oh no. This is very bad.
Behind you, Leona’s voice sounded rough.
“Hey. Don’t crowd her”
All three of you turned to look at him. Leona was dragging a hand down his face, visibly irritated by the situation.
Vil arched a brow, stopping with runway elegance.
“I beg you pardon?”
Azul did the same, forcing you to stop as well and remain right between them. The height difference, privately, was a little funny, if you hadn’t been the center of attention for a very irritated lion.
“Courtesy…” Leona scoffed. “That’s what they call it now?”
You heard Kalim whisper, “Are they flirting?”
And Riddle respond, sounding slightly tired of his classmates, “Knowing them… yes. They are flirting”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
Leona shoved both hands into his pockets, leaning back slightly as he approached, glancing sideways at your two escorts.
“The girl almost fell. You caught her. End of story. You don’t need to start an escort mission for every stranger you run into”
Vil crossed his arms and offered him a sharp smile. “And since when do you care about social manners?”
“Since watching you two circle her like peacocks in heat started giving me a headache,” Leona shot back.
You let out a quiet snort, covering your mouth with your free hand. Grim seemed to snort too, barely holding back laughter, the vibration against your chest made it obvious.
Azul released a soft sigh and pressed his fingers to his temple. “Honestly, is it necessary to reduce every refined interaction to such vulgar interpretations?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation, flashing them a half-smile, fangs included. “It’s funny and irritating at the same time watching you act so confident about something that isn’t one of your contracts”
The situation would have been comedic if you weren’t still stuck in the middle of it—and if you weren’t one wrong sentence away from catastrophic exposure.
Unfortunately, you locked eyes with Malleus.
He looked taller than the last time you’d seen him. A glance down confirmed it—he was wearing heeled shoes. This fae added a few extra inches whenever he felt like it, and in the process made you look even smaller.
From his height, Malleus observed you in silence. One arm rested over the other, a finger beneath his chin, studying you. As if he were chasing an echo, something about your voice, your posture, the way you held your shoulders like someone used to dealing with chaos every day.
Your heart thumped harder in your chest.
You looked away and gave another small nod, taking a step back, hoping this time you could finally continue your evening.
“I appreciate the concern, gentlemen,” you said, keeping your voice calm and neutral even though internally you were screaming. “But I assure you I would hate to delay such distinguished guests during their evening”
Both Azul and Vil inclined their heads, accepting the farewell with grace. Leona simply clicked his tongue and turned back toward the others—he had been ready to leave five minutes ago.
With elegance you weren’t even sure where you pulled from, you stepped toward the crowd, letting the skirt spin slightly as the crinoline gave the movement the air of something taken straight from a royal etiquette manual.
“Ah…”
Just that single word was enough to cut off your second escape attempt and push your frustration even higher.
The same notable figure Crowley had been speaking with earlier approached the group. The Noble Bell College uniform was immaculate. Perfect posture, perfect alignment, an expression composed, though clearly carefully practiced to appear so.
“Gentlemen,” he said calmly, “if you would be so kind as to proceed. The welcoming is prepared at the academy, and the festival program is… quite structured”
Crowley, who five minutes ago hadn’t been remotely in sight, reacted immediately, suddenly appearing from behind you and making you jump.
“Ah! Of course, of course! We wouldn’t wish to delay such a beautiful evening!”
Then the student’s eyes shifted toward you, finally registering why the seven leaders had stopped or drifted away from their intended path instead of following him.
And in that precise moment, his gaze changed to recognition.
Recognition that didn’t look good.
Not good for you, anyway.
“I must apologize,” he said, stepping toward you and placing a hand over his chest. “It seems I have committed an unforgivable lapse in courtesy”
The student bowed in a formal, precise, respectful greeting.
“I have spoken with these distinguished guests,” he continued, voice calm and controlled, “and yet I have neglected to acknowledge the presence of a lady among us. Such negligence falls below the standards of Noble Bell College… and my own.”
He straightened with the same refinement with which he had bowed and extended his hand toward you. In your stunned state, you noticed Grim become so perfectly still he could have won a gargoyle contest.
“I am Rollo Flamme,” he said. Now you could finally put a name to the face. “President of the Student Council and host of tonight’s ceremony”
Of all the people you could have drawn attention from at this event, it had to be the highest authority in the entire academy. The host himself. The worst possible person.
“And regardless of the anonymity permitted at this celebration,” Rollo continued, “it remains my responsibility to ensure that every guest within our city is treated with dignity and appropriate protection”
With his palm still extended, he took your hand and bowed again slightly, pressing a kiss against your gloved knuckles. His eyes remained locked onto yours, sharp, observant enough to make you swallow hard.
“Welcome to the festival”
Rollo straightened again and folded his hands in front of him.
“You have indicated that you do not wish to delay these gentlemen,” he continued solemnly. “A considerate sentiment”
There was a pause—and it felt heavy, considering this man still hadn’t taken his eyes off you. If you ran now he would notice. Obviously he would notice your nerves and terrible manners, and you’d look incredibly suspicious.
“But allowing a lady to wander the festival without escort amid such a crowd would be an equivalent lapse in decorum”
Vil offered him an approving smile, and judging by the look Leona was giving the blond from behind, your escape plan was now miles away from happening.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Leona muttered.
Rollo turned halfway toward the dorm leaders and Crowley. “I trust one of you would be willing to provide a brief escort to guarantee her safe passage before rejoining us at the academy”
Kalim, being the sweet, trusting, hyper-energetic Kalim, immediately raised his hand.
“Oh! I can—”
“Absolutely not,” whispered Idia in a panic. “You’ll get lost in these weird streets and probably end up buying the entire festival”
Kalim pouted but didn’t argue.
Azul stepped forward, trying to appear smooth but looking a little too eager to close this contract. “As it happens, I’m already somewhat familiar with the young lady—”
Vil moved at the same time and cut him off. “And I, naturally, would never allow someone dressed so exquisitely to be abandoned to the chaos of the central plaza”
Why do I always have to deal with the chaos? Why?
The plan had been simple: jump through the mirror without the academic staff noticing, lose yourself in the cobblestone streets, avoid eight walking disasters of charisma and complications, eat festival food, take a couple of pictures with Grim, and go home.
The universe really hates me
Crowley, watching the scene half-delighted and half-offended that he wasn’t the center of attention, fanned himself dramatically. “Ah, such gallantry among my students! How my heart swells! You seven are the pride of Night Raven College!”
Rollo folded his hands behind his back, perfectly composed.
“There you have it,” he said calmly. “A simple solution”
And with that, Crowley and Rollo continued on their way toward who knows where—leaving you with seven distinguished students and one problematic cat who was internally seconds away from exploding or fainting.
The procession moved forward...there really was no other word for it.
The dorm leaders walked in immaculate formation along the lantern-lit avenues, and in the middle of that flock you were trying with all your strength not to implode from stress. Grim shifted into both your arms, leaning against you; it was safer that way in case he wanted to whisper something instead of accidentally yelling something incriminating. Now he sat like a very tense, very judgmental decorative accessory beneath his velvet hood.
Kalim bounced closer first. “So! You’re from another school?” he asked cheerfully.
Alright. Time for lies—and the greatest skill for stealth missions: improvising without hesitation.
“I’m not part of the official exchange,” you said calmly, which was technically true. “I came with my family”
Which wasn’t entirely true… though if you counted Grim and the seven people around you who apparently didn’t know the definition of personal space, then maybe it was a… creative reinterpretation.
Azul also approached, much closer than necessary. “I see. Attending an event of this scale independently suggests either excellent connections… or excellent planning”
Vil added lightly, adjusting his sleeve where a button had come undone. The small imperfection clearly offended him. “Or excellent taste”
The button snapped back into place and his gaze returned forward, specifically toward you. “No one assembles such an outfit without understanding the magnitude of the evening”
You turned slightly and offered a half-smile. “I had help.”
Extremely true. Sam deserved several medals, and probably hazard pay.
Grim shifted in your arms, trying to lean closer to whisper something, but halfway through his cloak snagged on your sleeve and you had to adjust him quickly before the hood slipped and exposed him.
Of course Azul noticed the movement beneath the cloak. “And that little companion?”
Dangerous question.
“This?” you tightened your grip slightly. “He’s my brother’s familiar. I’m taking care of him while he’s away at Night Raven College”
Malleus finally joined the conversation. One step brought him only inches behind you. “A creature temporarily bound under your supervision”
His voice was so deep you almost felt it rather than heard it. A chill ran down your spine. “That explains such an elaborate cloak. A responsible choice on your part. You understand how to present the creature with the dignity it deserves”
Grim puffed up slightly beneath the fabric.
“He appears loyal,” Malleus added, his voice calm and serene now, still close, but with the strange sense of omniscience that came from his towering height.
At the comment, Grim let out a small emotional squeak and fought very hard not to respond. You rested a hand over his back through the hood. “He is,” you nodded.
Also extremely true… sometimes… when it suited him… especially when food was involved.
“What kind of creature is the familiar?” Kalim asked, leaning closer again, dangerously close to stepping on your skirt.
You grabbed the fabric with one hand while adjusting Grim onto your shoulder. “He’s a cat. A bit grumpy, especially in the mornings.”
No lie there. Grim tried to object, maybe by digging his claws slightly into your shoulder, but before he could you bounced him upward a little. He made a tiny complaint and stayed still.
“So cute!” Kalim said excitedly. “Hey! Does he need something to eat?”
“No! No!” you answered quickly. “He’s fine, he already ate a lot a few minutes ago.”
The last thing you needed was for this ray of sunshine to feed him the way he had with cookies back in Scarabia.
“Your familiar eats human food?” Riddle asked, clearly puzzled.
“…sometimes”
You wobbled slightly as if thinking, though really you were scrambling for the right words to fix the mistake you’d just made. “Not much—mostly fish. But there was a familiar food stall a few blocks from the central plaza, so I bought him a little treat”
You patted him gently to demonstrate how well-behaved he was.
“Aww, what a shame,” Kalim deflated. “I would’ve liked to feed the little guy”
The little guy shifted slightly, probably remembering the same thing: the time Kalim had stuffed him with endless cookies. Grim shrank into your shoulder and whispered barely audibly.
“Prefect… when we’re done, I want another snack”
That sounded so Grim you had to pinch him to keep the humiliation of staying quiet from going to his head.
“Don’t be discouraged,” Azul said, stepping beside Kalim. “We were allowed to enjoy the festival, so we may indulge a little in the culinary arts of this city”
“You’re right!” Kalim brightened instantly. “We can try the éclairs! Or croissants! Baguettes! The honey buns from that stall behind us!”
What a combination of flour and carbohydrates. But it sounded so good...and sooo necessary.
All day Grim hadn’t let you eat in peace except for breakfast, the little gremlin had devoured snack after snack. You, on the other hand…you were actually starving.
Maybe the discomfort showed on your face, or maybe your stomach growled beneath all those layers of fabric. Either way, Vil noticed.
“Perhaps we could offer our escorted young lady something sweet?” His hands folded behind his back as he leaned slightly toward you.
“That seems appropriate, although…” Riddle added thoughtfully, “young lady, would you actually like us to treat you to something?”
In theory, yes. In practice… was it sensible to let them buy you something? You really did want to eat, and you hadn’t brought much money. Well...Grim had already spent more than half of it on everything he’d devoured, plus a small trinket he bought from a craft stall.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you with such a triviality,” you began calmly. “It would be imprudent—”
“Nonsense!” Kalim cut you off. “We can buy you anything you want!”
Before you could even think of a counterargument, he had already rushed to a nearby stall and paid for five different types of sweets. The others stopped to wait for him, and you took the moment to adjust your skirt and Grim on your shoulder. Standing still, Grim quietly stretched himself across both shoulders like a scarf and settled there, balanced enough for when you started walking again.
“Can I eat some of what he brings?” he whispered.
“No,” you whispered back, barely moving your lips.
When Kalim returned, he carried two paper bags in both hands.
In one bag he had bought eight different flavors of macarons—some common ones like chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. Others were bizarre flavor combinations you would have preferred to donate to the ghosts of Ramshackle.
In the other bag were two chocolate éclairs, two pains au chocolat, two crescent pastries with a bright glaze, and two honey-cinnamon puff pastries.
A direct trip to diabetes.
The bag with the assorted sweets he handed to Riddle with such enthusiasm that the redhead actually leaned back a little from the force. Riddle blinked once, twice, then opened the bag and tilted his head to inspect the contents. He passed an éclair to Idia, who took it with a trembling hand and immediately retreated to eat it where no one could see him.
With the other bag still in hand, Kalim offered you a strawberry macaron. “Here! Take it! My treat!” he said with the brightest, warmest smile you had ever seen at NRC.
You hesitated for a second, but the sweet was so perfectly made, round and glossy, that refusing it would have felt like a crime. You took it delicately with your fingers and gave it a small bite instead of shoving the whole thing into your mouth out of habit. You might have been hungry, but manners and appearances mattered right now.
“How is it? Is it good?” Kalim was already handing out the other macarons to the rest, even to Leona, who took one between two fingers and inspected it with mild disinterest.
“It’s delicious. Thank you for such a generous gesture” You took another bite and the macaron was gone. You brushed your hands together and were about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but stopped yourself, licking your lip to catch any crumbs.
Riddle pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offered it to you. “Here”
You took it with slight embarrassment and wiped the corners of your mouth. When you tried to return it, he shook his head. “Don’t worry. You can keep it”
You looked down at the handkerchief, delicate, red with black embroidered details. His initial stitched neatly in one corner. It had the look of something personal, perhaps a gift from his mother or something he had commissioned himself.
“Are you sure?” you asked, uneasy about keeping something so personal.
“I’m sure. It’s a handkerchief, it doesn’t carry emotional weight” He accepted the bag of sweets back from Kalim as the other boy handed him a macaron.
You looked at the handkerchief again and folded it neatly in four. The only problem now was where to put it. A mischievous idea crossed your mind for less than a second: tuck it between your breasts the way people used to do to tease admirers.
But no. You absolutely could not do that...though it would have been hilarious.
Instead, you slipped it into the folds of your skirt, improvising a small pocket. After adjusting the dress and crinoline again, you waited for the group to resume walking. The sun was beginning to dip, the first orange rays of evening spreading across the sky.
This time Leona resumed walking beside you.
His stride was heavy, hands in his pockets, his expression carrying such profound boredom it could qualify as an art form. You had no idea what he had done with the macaron; whether he ate it or casually discarded it somewhere with stealth so refined that no one noticed.
All the while he had been watching you fuss with your skirt, holding it with one hand so it wouldn’t tangle around your feet.
Then, with the faintest sigh, as if remembering he shouldn’t be too obvious about observing others, he stepped a little closer.
“Watch your step,” he murmured low enough that only you could hear. “These streets are uneven”
It sounded suspiciously like Azul’s earlier warning, but filtered through Leona’s flavor of bluntness.
Before you could answer or adjust your pace properly, he extended his arm, wiith no ceremony, as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.
But the gesture itself was pure etiquette.
“If you trip again,” he added in a flat tone without even looking at you, “that bird’s going to make us repeat this whole escort nonsense. I’m not dealing with that again”
In simple terms: take Leona’s arm so this ends faster.
Your eyes drifted to his face, half-hidden behind a mask, his hair tied in a simple ponytail. His lazy aura was still there, but layered beneath it.
Even if he showed little interest in events like this, the fact that he was wearing a mask at all was already significant. To you—the mysterious, nameless young lady—he was simply another stranger. You had no reason to recognize the second prince of Sunset Savanna.
And that gave him the advantage. If he wanted to act with the princely manners he had unfortunately been taught, he would use them, especially if it earned him a few points in front of the others. If everyone else was interacting with you, he wasn’t about to sit out.
To the passing crowd, it simply looked like a stranger offering steady support to a young woman in a crowded foreign city whose shoes were poorly suited for cobblestones.
You gently hooked your hand around his arm. “Thank you”
Leona said nothing, just clicked his tongue and gave the faintest nod.
The streets narrowed as you moved toward the academy district. The lanternlight softened. The crowd thinned just enough that conversation no longer sounded like shouting over the festival and began to feel… almost private.
Which unfortunately meant questions; Polite ones, curious ones, persistent ones.
Kalim, as usual, took it upon himself to begin. “So how did you arrange this visit?” he asked. “You said you didn’t come with the official delegations”
“That’s right,” you replied—truthfully. “My family organized the trip. I’m mostly… exploring while they attend to their obligations.”
Which, technically, was also true.
Azul slipped smoothly into the conversation. “Exploring an unfamiliar city suggests remarkable confidence,” he said, adjusting his glasses and smiling the way he did just before landing a new client. “Or considerable experience”
“A bit of both”
“Have you attended events of this scale before?” Riddle asked next, his tone measured but curious rather than strict. “The protocol at gatherings like this can be… overwhelming”
“Not exactly like this,” you admitted. “But I’ve dealt with large gatherings. And… unpredictable situations”
Behind everyone, you heard Idia mutter quietly: “…that sounds like nightmare difficulty in social interactions…”
Frankly, the poor guy already looked like he was about to log out of the event if they didn’t reach their destination soon.
“Yet you don’t seem intimidated,” Malleus said, speaking over Idia’s murmuring.
“I learned that most disasters start the same way,” you replied, pausing to choose your words carefully. “If nothing is exploding yet and no one is screaming… things are usually going well”
That comment earned you seven pairs of eyes.
Because what you had just said perfectly summarized life at a certain academy where mornings often began with students yelling, magic spiraling out of control despite professors supposedly teaching discipline, and overblots happening far too often.
Leona glanced sideways at you and huffed thoughtfully. Azul simply folded his arms and seemed to consider your answer.
“An interesting philosophy,” he said, tapping his fingers against his arm. “Quite pragmatic… and resilient”
Grim shifted slightly on your shoulders, practically vibrating with the effort not to shout HNYA, we’ve fought literal overblots every month, you have no idea!
You scratched his head lightly over the hood as a warning, and the trembling stopped. Riddle stepped forward slightly and inclined his head toward the gesture, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“Your brother must trust you greatly if he left his familiar with you”
“He does,” you nodded.
Riddle responded with a thoughtful hum. “Responsibility reflects well on both of you”
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and smiled.
If he knew how responsible you really were—sneaking into a festival and academic event without authorization, in a country far from the island, in a world you barely understood—well… that comment would collapse like a badly built card tower.
But as you watched him, you also noticed something else.
The way Riddle politely guided passersby out of your path. Azul adjusting his pace so you wouldn’t have to walk faster. Vil subtly steering the group away from the rougher patches of cobblestone without saying a word. Even Idia hovered closer than usual, like some socially terrified wizard who had nonetheless decided he was the party’s defensive mage in a DnD campaign.
Leona kept his stride steady beside you, perfectly matching your pace. And Malleus remained watchful, hands ready to guide a passerby aside or catch you if you stumbled.
The shift was obvious, they weren’t escorting a random girl anymore...They were engaging with her.
“It’s unusual to meet someone at this sort of event who speaks as directly as you do,” Azul said, almost as if the conversation he wanted was simply… a conversation.
Vil nodded from the front of the group. “Most attendees here are desperately trying to impress,” he said, turning his head toward you. “Whereas you, my lady, manage to impress simply by walking”
“And you’re easy to talk to too! It’s really nice!” Kalim added brightly.
From behind you, Idia muttered: “…low-pressure NPC with unexpectedly high dialogue quality…”
Oh. My. Sevens.
They’re flirting.
They are actually flirting.
And they have absolutely no idea that the person they’re flirting with is you—the extremely human, magicless prefect who attracts catastrophic overblot-level disasters like seasonal colds. All you needed was a mask, an expensive dress, and no identity.
Suddenly the seven of them were treating you like royalty.
Your cheeks flushed faintly pink. Part of you wondered—just for a second—if you could take advantage of this a little longer. It wasn’t every day these well-trained disasters behaved like gentlemen.
Another part of you was on the verge of imploding because the same seven who usually competed in ego wars (Kalim excluded) now seemed oddly invested in your company.
Please do not let this night end with all seven of them having a crush on me.
You would never survive looking them in the eye tomorrow. One or two you could handle.
Seven? That would end in a battlefield.
Ahead of you, the academy gates came into view. Tall. Ornate. Illuminated by elegant lanterns while guests streamed inside.
The perfect place for this illusion to end, before their gazes got any more intense. Your steps slowed slightly, and the others adjusted automatically.
Beyond the gates, upper balconies glowed with light and stained-glass windows scattered multicolored shards across the courtyard.
Vil glanced toward them. “A beautiful aesthetic, exactly what one would expect from the student council president,” he commented, violet eyes bright with approval. “Fleur City always delivers the finest spectacles”
Leona exhaled softly beside you. “Tch. If this thing runs longer than it should, I’m leaving”
Your lips curled faintly upward. That was such a Leona comment.
And then Idia, apparently unusually chatty tonight, talked loud enough for everyone to hear. “…pretty sure this ends with a final boss spawning in the middle of the hall at biblical difficulty…”
You couldn’t stop the laugh.
You tried to make it sound like a small huff—but the laugh slipped out naturally. Bright, familiar, too familiar.
The sound hung in the air like a memory someone had just pulled out of a locked drawer. Leona’s arm stiffened under your hand; Azul’s eyes sharpened; Vil tilted his head; Kalim blinked; Riddle froze; Idia looked like someone who had just connected two impossible dots; And Malleus’s gaze deepened.
Your pulse skyrocketed, you closed your eyes for half a second and pressed your lips together.
Idiot.
You cleared your throat quickly and stepped back. “I'm sorry,” you said lightly, smoothing your tone. “Just… the moment”
You released Leona’s arm. Another step back gave them space as the academy gates loomed only a short distance away.
“I believe this is where our paths separate,” you said with an elegant bow. “You have fulfilled your duty admirably”
Azul recovered first. “Well,” he said, though his eyes were still attentive, “this has been… unexpectedly pleasant.”
Kalim waved energetically. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the festival!”
Leona looked at your hand, then folded his arms again. “Watch where you step.”
Malleus returned your bow with one hand over his chest. “If fate allows it, I would welcome another conversation.”
You straightened. “Then perhaps fate will be kind.”
You picked Grim up in both arms, because you needed something to do with your hands, and turned toward the academy entrance.
One step...then another. Trying to look composed, just another guest entering the celebration.
Internally? You were about three seconds away from completely losing your nerve.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The moment the academy doors swallowed you, you didn’t stop, nor you didn’t slow down; in fact, you sped up.
You didn’t admire the architecture, the vaulted stone corridors, the candlelit banners, the elegant streams of guests drifting toward the grand hall.
You took a side corridor, then another, then passed through an open arch into a quieter cloister, with tall windows and ivy climbing the walls. Only when the distant noise of the courtyard softened into a manageable murmur did you finally exhale.
“…Okay,” Grim whispered from your arms. “…we’re still alive.”
“Barely.” Your lips tightened, the pressure in your chest still fighting to break free.
“That laugh almost killed us.”
“I know, Grim.” You leaned against the cold stone column and adjusted his hood so you could see his face.
“…those idiots seemed to like you, huh?” His eyes bulged slightly, and judging by his posture he was as close to a stress-induced meltdown as you were.
You shut your eyes at the memory. “Don’t remind me… that’s a problem”
“I’m glad to see my earlier concern wasn’t unfounded”
The lantern light flickered softly across the cloister floor. Somewhere deeper inside the academy, the music began again, more structured now, more ceremonial.
Why? Why can’t I have one moment of peace?
Your spine stiffened instantly, you turned.
At the entrance of the cloister stood Rollo with a posture so perfect it could belong to a movie villain. Hands clasped behind his back, expression calm and attentive. The lanternlight traced a warm outline around him… almost like flames.
“I trust the escort provided by Night Raven College proved sufficient,” he said calmly. Grim froze again like a gargoyle—after ducking his head and burrowing into your chest.
You inclined your head politely. “More than sufficient, President Flamme. Your hospitality is… thorough”
“It is my responsibility,” he replied. “A host must ensure that no guest experiences discomfort within our city”
He stepped closer, not intruding, simply shortening the conversational distance with careful etiquette. “I must admit,” he continued, thoughtful rather than stern, “it is rare to encounter attendees whose affiliation is not immediately apparent”
Another step forward. You stayed exactly where you were, clutching Grim like a plush toy.
“May I ask…” he said, choosing his words carefully, as if trying to avoid creating a scene, “whether you come from another academy?”
You didn’t allow yourself to hesitate. “My family travels frequently. I accompany them this season” The answer came out quickly, too quickly to sound completely natural.
Which, technically… wasn’t entirely false.
If one ignored the circumstances of that accompaniment.
“And do you personally practice magic?”
A simple question. Simple—and judging by the atmosphere this man radiated, a dangerous one. You didn’t know why, but the way Rollo always remained composed and asked such direct questions made something in your instincts prickle.
Your gaze dropped briefly to Grim as you scratched his head, forcing a small smile like you were remembering a relative who didn’t actually exist.
“My brother is the gifted one in the family” You looked back at him. “He’s the one formally enrolled at Night Raven College”
Rollo’s eyes sharpened slightly. “I see” His gaze lowered toward Grim’s hood. “And that bundle is a familiar, I assume?”
“Correct,” you replied, adjusting Grim again; your arms were starting to ache. The cat was definitely getting fat. “He belongs to my brother, I care for him while he’s occupied.”
His eyes studied you for a moment, like someone inspecting the symmetry of a cathedral window. If he was looking for something suspicious, he didn’t say it aloud.
But he made you sweat. A cold drop slid down your spine, you were getting tired of this much stress.
“How fortunate,” he said at last, allowing you to breathe again. “To have family capable of assuming such responsibility”
He and Riddle would probably get along, you thought. Both had that particular pride in responsibility and decorum. Which made it odd that Rollo wasn’t currently with the NRC delegation discussing formalities with Riddle.
Why wasn’t he there with them?
“In my experience,” Rollo continued quietly, walking past you to look toward the garden beyond the cloister, “those born without magic often develop… a clearer perspective on consequences”
You frowned slightly, unsure where that comment was going. “Perhaps,” you replied neutrally.
His gaze returned to you. Now he stood directly in front of you, but his posture wasn’t interrogative, although something about the moment felt like the beginning of a tense conversation.
Great. Add another person to the list of people you had to be careful speaking around. As if dealing with every student at NRC wasn’t already exhausting enough.
“At Noble Bell, we place great value on the upbringing of our guests,” he said. His voice remained firm and formal. “Often, that reveals more than titles or affiliations”
A polite way of saying tell me about your background.
And what a background that was.
“What does your family do, if I may ask?”
Your eyes widened slightly. You remembered questions like this from your own world...a little classist, a little creepy, if you were being honest.
Your mind started spinning. Whatever you said now would have consequences—and could unravel your lie instantly.
Rich merchants? Too easy to verify.
Minor nobility? Far too risky.
Foreign lineage? Absolutely not.
You needed something visible, difficult to check, socially plausible… and open to interpretation.
“…performance,” you said finally, tilting your head with a small smile.
Rollo narrowed his eyes slightly, mirroring the tilt of your head. “Performance”
“My family works within musical circles.” You stepped toward the cloister columns, letting your eyes drift toward the small garden to buy yourself a breath of space from his scrutiny. “Ceremonial events, private patronage, festivals like this… occasionally.”
Technically…not entirely false.
If one counted the endless chaos-filled performances NRC dragged you into cleaning up afterward.
“And you?” he asked, moving to stand beside you.
“Me… what?” You had been staring at a flower you thought was an orange lily-of-the-valley and hadn’t processed the question. Your body turned slightly toward him, hip angled casually.
“What do you practice?”
“Ah…” Your expression faltered for half a second in embarrassment. You hadn’t prepared that answer.
“Vocal training.” Your eyes returned to the garden. “Beginner”
If yelling at Grim every morning so he wouldn’t make you late for class counted as vocal training. Or shouting at Ace and Deuce when their clown-level stupidity dragged you into disasters. Enough practice to develop excellent lungs.
“Singing,” you finished.
For one terrible second you thought you had overplayed it. But Rollo didn’t react, he simply nodded.
“A disciplined art,” he said. His brows lifted slightly, careful not to appear judgmental. “Music, when practiced with devotion, reflects order.”
He extended his hands in front of him, left hand outward. “Structure” Right hand outward. “Harmony” His palms opened, fingers long and precise. “The sacred ceremonies of this city rely greatly on vocal precision.” His head turned toward the distant sound of a choir rising from the main hall. “A poorly trained chorus can ruin an entire liturgical sequence”
You followed his gaze toward the archway leading to the side corridor and listened to the choir for a few seconds. “I prefer small audiences.”
“A wise preference,” Rollo nodded, exhaling softly in time with the rising harmony of the chorus. “True refinement rarely requires spectacle”
You leaned slightly to study his face—pure curiosity. His expression softened for a moment under the layered voices of the choir, as if the music were something sacred to him.
The moment lasted only a few seconds. Then he composed himself again, hands folded neatly before him, his attention returning to you. You straightened as well.
“You speak with unusual composure for someone outside the academic delegations,” he said, stepping closer. “Most visitors tonight are eager to attract attention”
You pressed your lips together in a small thoughtful pout, tilting your head toward the music as if weighing the idea. Thinking, and thinking.
“It’s easier to listen first…” You gave him a crooked smile. “Attention can be exhausting sometimes”
Rollo exhaled again—subtle, but visible. “Yes…” His eyes lingered on yours. “…it certainly can be”
Then, like a dramatic punctuation mark in a poorly timed story, a massive bell rang out. The sound cracked through the academy like thunder; deep, heavy and close. The vibration rolled through the stone around you.
“It seems the ceremony is about to begin.”
You turned toward the corridor as the footsteps of guests echoed more strongly through the halls, a tide moving toward the grand hall.
Rollo adjusted his attire, the robe, even the large hat, then extended his hand to you exactly as he had earlier in the plaza, the other hand behind his back.
“It would be improper to allow a guest unfamiliar with the academy to navigate the inner corridors alone during a formal assembly”
Ah… damn
“I will escort you personally.” There was no room for debate. Decision made. End of discussion.
Refusing now would be far more suspicious than accepting.
“You are very thorough, President Flamme,” you said with a bow that nearly reached the floor, holding Grim with one arm and your hat with the other so it wouldn’t slip.
“Thoroughness prevents disorder,” he replied calmly.
He waited patiently for your hand. When you placed it in his, his fingers closed gently around yours. The cold edge of his ring brushed your skin even through the glove. “This way”
The academy corridors unfolded ahead of you. Candles lined the walls in strict rows, the stained glass windows were fading under the last rays of sunset. Immaculate white columns framed the space while the ceremonial atmosphere gathered like a curtain before a stage performance.
“For someone outside the formal delegations,” Rollo commented as you approached the reading hall entrance, “you carry yourself with remarkable composure”
“I’ve learned to adapt quickly,” you said, tilting your head slightly. That, at least, was the most honest thing you had said all day.
“A valuable skill.”
Grim’s small claws pressed into your sleeve, his silent signal that things were going very wrong.
Ahead, the corridor opened. Golden light from enormous chandeliers flooded the hall, marble floors gleamed beneath towering stained-glass pillars, the ceremonial music swelled as hundreds of voices gathered at the center.
Rollo slowed his pace as you approached and gently guided you closer so the entire hall opened before your view.
“The seating is organized by delegation,” he explained, gesturing upward with his free hand. “However, independent guests may observe from the upper galleries”
Translation: He was personally installing you in the best observation point in the building.
Most likely surrounded by staff, highly visible, no escape routes.
Wonderful.
He pointed toward a marble staircase rising along the hall wall. “From there you will have a perfect view”
You lifted your gaze toward the upper gallery, marble and stone just as ornate as the rest of the hall, and quite spacious.
“If you require anything, attendants will be nearby” Then he released your hand.
Standing straight as a ceremonial statue, he bowed once more—legs aligned perfectly like a prince finishing a formal greeting. “I trust the presentation will justify your attendance”
And with that, he left.
Once again, you were alone with Grim.
“…hey… henchman…” a small whisper came from inside the cloak.
“…yeah?” You still hadn’t taken your eyes off Rollo’s retreating figure down the corridor.
“We have VIP seats”
“…yeah”
Grim sighed. You felt his tail go limp across your shoulder. “…this night is going spectacularly”
You released a long breath. “…absolutely.”
Then you turned and started up the stairs.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The bell never finished its final resonance.
One moment the reading hall was perfectly synchronized with the ceremony, waiting for the famous magical bell artifact to sound… and the next moment fire.
Not the warm glow of decorative candles lining the hall. Not a ceremonial brazier. Not a controlled magical flame meant to add theatrical flair.
These were real flames, hungry ones, full of magic—and disturbingly selective.
They burst upward along the cathedral columns in violent ribbons of orange while the massive bell roared like a living thing. Heat tore through the hall, guests screamed, the polished order of the ceremony collapsed instantly into panic.
“My magic—!”
“It’s not activating!”
“What’s happening?!”
The sound spread in waves, confusion becoming fear, fear becoming absolute chaos.
From the upper gallery, smoke already curling over the carved railing, you clutched Grim tightly to your chest.
“This has officially turned into a disaster!” you inhaled as deeply as you could, staring down at the inferno rising below.
“HNYA!! FOO! FOO!” Grim tried blowing at the approaching flames. “PREFECT, THE FIRE’S GETTING CLOSER!”
“I CAN SEE THAT!”
Guests surged toward exits in disorganized waves, assistants shouted directions nobody followed, sparks rained down as part of the decorative canopy collapsed in a burst of embers.
You backed against the stone wall, keeping distance from the fire. The flames were climbing quickly now, you could feel them licking the hem of your skirt. You yanked the fabric away and moved sideways along the wall toward the corridor exit.
“If this dress burns,” you said with deadly seriousness, even as the smoke made your breathing ragged, “I swear by the Seven, Grim, I will make you work overtime to pay off our debt to Sam”
“THAT’S YOUR PRIORITY RIGHT NOW!?”
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS FABRIC COSTS?!”
A small explosion cracked beside you and you hurried your steps. You pulled off your hat and held it over your nose, shielding both you and Grim from the smoke.
The bell thundered again. But now it wasn’t announcing a ceremony, or the hour, or the arrival of magic into a new era.
It was weaponized.
“…Okay,” you muttered, forcing yourself to stay calm and conserving oxygen as best you could. Your eyes scanned the gallery exits, fallen chandeliers, and the storm of wildflower petals drifting through the hall. “Time to save their asses… again.”
The bell roared, the metallic blast split the air so violently the stained-glass windows trembled, and with that resonance, more petals erupted into the burning air.
At first it looked almost beautiful, orange petals floating down toward the flames, dozens, then hundreds. A storm of glowing flowers falling from the bell tower like drifting embers.
One brushed the sleeve of a fleeing mage, the flower ignited bright red on contact, its petals burned from within. Smoke rose as the student’s spell collapsed instantly, magic ripped out of the air like someone unplugging reality itself.
“My magic—! It’s gone!”
Another flower fell, another flare, another failed spell. Understanding spread faster than the fire.
“They’re draining it—!”
“Don’t let them touch you!”
More petals rained down, brushing cloaks, masks, bare hands, triggering bursts of flame wherever they landed, leaving scorched fabric and a dead silence where magic should have answered.
The grand hall—seconds ago filled with the most skilled magical students from several academies—was now packed with people who couldn’t conjure a single spark.
Grim twisted in your arms. “PREFECT THIS IS BAD—REALLY BAD—”
You saw one flower drifting toward you and flattened yourself against the wall. The corridor behind you was already engulfed in flames, the staircase was starting to burn. You couldn’t stop the petal gliding over the gallery railing straight toward your sleeve.
It touched the fabric…Nothing happened. No flame, no burn, no magic drain. Because there was nothing to drain, the petal simply slid off your sleeve and landed harmlessly on the floor.
You lifted your arm, no damage. You squeezed Grim tighter against your chest and turned toward the stairs.
“It only drains magic!” you shouted over the roar of the fire.
“That means—”
“That means,” you snapped, voice sharp with the absolutely terrible decision you were about to make, “while everyone else is getting drained—”
You took the stairs two at a time, dodging small flames licking across the marble. “—someone without magic is the most useful person in the entire building!”
Grim’s eyes went wide, he realized it instantly. The only one who could move freely through this chaos…was you.
Without thinking twice you leapt the final stretch of stairs, landing inelegantly on the main floor. Before the flames could reach the hem of your dress you yanked the fabric aside and bolted across the hall.
“Hot! Hot! Hot!” Yes, talking while running through a smoke-filled hall was stupid, but it was the only way to vent the stress as you sprinted through the wide arches.
And at the center of the inferno...the seven dorm leaders stood in formation, imposing order on chaos the only way they knew how; loudly, stubbornly.
“Clear evacuation routes!” shouted Riddle. “We need civilians out—now!”
Idia was shouting too, panic turning his brain into a rapid-fire analysis machine. “The flowers are linked to the bell! It’s a distributed power source!”
Kalim and Azul were already dousing nearby flames with water magic. Even Malleus, with his power weakened, had air swirling around him like a contained cyclone, deflecting falling petals.
All seven were staring upward toward the tower. Where the bell still rang, where more flowers kept falling, and where one man stood watching the chaos below with chilling superiority.
Rollo.
“This world has suffered too long under the rule of magic!” he shouted, completely unhinged. His staff swung wildly, sending waves of burning flowers across the hall. “Power brings only arrogance! Destruction! Chaos!”
Another bell strike, more petals, the last scraps of magic began to fail.
“I will end this suffering!” His voice cracked into something almost like a sob. “Even if the flames must purify this city!”
Grim buried his face deeper in the cloak against your shoulder. “…yeah okay… he’s lost it”
The leaders moved before you could blink. All seven redirected the remaining magic they could muster, pushing the falling flowers away in bursts of wind—though the currents also fed the fire.
“Watch the flames!” shouted Vil, already extinguishing a decorative banner that had caught fire.
Leona had launched himself toward a pillar, dodging both the flames and the falling flowers with the kind of speed he only used during Magift. With King’s Roar, he turned every piece of furniture already on fire into sand.
Tiny grains scattered through the air as more flowers fell from the bell tower, only to dissolve the moment they touched the drifting sand.
“NO!” shouted Rollo, staggering slightly. “Magic must disappear! Even if I must burn this city to its foundation, I will finish what I started!”
The flames burst upward again, bathing the entire reading hall in violent orange and red light, smoke was already swallowing the last breathable air.
You ducked as a piece of the structure collapsed, crushing a bench beneath it, splinters of wood scattered everywhere.
“Henchman!” Grim coughed. “This is the part where the villain stops being organized and becomes erratically dangerous!”
“…good call, Grim.” He was right. After dealing with multiple overblots, both of you knew the pattern by heart.
And if there was something else you’d learned after months inside a school full of wildly irresponsible magic users, and a few outright fanatics, it was this: You don’t argue with them.
Especially not a fanatic who’s currently burning down a city.
You placed Grim beneath the archway entrance of the hall, hiding him from the flames under a stretch of marble structure, the doors were already open where civilians had escaped.
Then you ran straight toward the fire, toward the seven idiots fighting inside it. Or maybe you were the idiot for charging into an inferno wearing a highly flammable dress with zero magic.
But hey—adrenaline does wonderful things to a person’s judgment.
“WAIT—!” you heard Grim squeak over the crackling fire.
You didn’t look back, your eyes were locked on the chaos ahead. You didn’t think rationally either—because sometimes the optimal solution…is interrupting a villain’s speech with physical violence.
You ran, and ran and ran. You rushed past Riddle, who only caught a glimpse of a swirl of black and red fabric from the corner of his eye, unable to see clearly through the heat distortions.
But when you planted your foot, twisted your body, and raised your arm—every dorm leader became very aware of your presence in the flames.
Crack.
Your fist slammed directly into Rollo’s face. A solid human punch, powered by frustration and adrenaline. His head snapped sideways, the speech he was about to shout died halfway up his throat.
He staggered back a step, hand flying to his cheek, his eyes went wide, pure disbelief flooding his expression. No one in his perfectly ordered life had ever punched him.
The fire flickered, then slowly began to die down. The hall inhaled again, tThe room seemed to exhale with it.
You lowered your hand slowly, breathing hard, then bent forward as the pain finally hit your knuckles.
“…ow”
The pain shot up your arm, you shook your hand violently, hopping slightly on your feet.
“Shit,” you muttered, clutching your hand for a moment before shaking it again. “That hurts...oh hell that hurts”
You looked at Rollo, voice rough from the smoke. “Could you maybe not burn down a city over your personal issues for five minutes?!”
You bent forward again. “Damn! Your bones are hard!”
Behind you—
“SHE JUST DEFEATED THE FINAL BOSS WITH A HOOK PUNCH!” shouted Idia, unable to contain what he had just witnessed.
“…okay,” you groaned through clenched teeth. “That was one of the worst decisions of my life” Under the glove, your knuckles were already swelling.
“Don’t move” The voice of Vil arrived calm, sharp, perfectly controlled now that the end-of-the-world situation had paused.
He gently took your wrist and carefully removed your glove. The skin around your knuckles was red and throbbing, you could barely move your fingers without a stab of pain running all the way to your shoulder.
“That impact could have fractured something,” he said, lifting your hand and examining it. He turned it carefully in different directions, moving your fingers slightly, visibly irritated. “Honestly. Barbaric… effective, but barbaric”
Azul stepped beside him, his tone smooth but edged with concern. “Allow us to help. We can perform basic healing spells”
Riddle was already clearing space nearby, dragging charred furniture aside. “Give the young lady air!”
Kalim rushed over as well, dodging debris and wilted flowers. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?” he asked, leaning in beside Vil to inspect the damage.
You tried to pull your hand away. “I’m fine—”
Vil didn’t allow it, tightening his hold slightly, though not painfully. “Do not argue while you are injured”
“…okay”
Azul placed his fingers lightly against your knuckles. A faint spell flickered between them, much weaker than his magic normally shone. A soft blue glow wrapped around your hand, cold, like pressing an ice pack against the injury.
The swelling eased slightly, the pain dulling from a sharp stab to a manageable ache.
“This is only temporary relief,” Azul said, withdrawing his hand. Vil released your wrist as well. “You will require proper treatment later”
You flexed your fingers carefully, the muscles moved without too much resistance.
“…thanks” You slowly pulled the glove back on. The soft fabric brushed the injury and you winced faintly.
Leona had been watching the entire time with narrowed eyes, arms crossed. “Do you usually run into burning buildings?”
His tone was flat, not mocking, nor scolding, just… curious. You tilted your head, thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “Seemed like the fastest way to stop him.”
“Speed is not always the most efficient method,” remarked Malleus as he stepped closer, checking if you’d been injured anywhere besides your hand. “Do you require further assistance, miss?”
“I’m fine now, really. Thank you” Malleus inclined his head and didn’t press further.
Instead he stepped back and cast a small spell—simple for him even in his weakened state, but still effective. The air cleared instantly, smoke and ash were swept away. At last, the reading hall could breathe again, even with the aftermath of the fight still hanging in the air.
Without the smoke, the damage was impossible to ignore. Several pieces of furniture had been reduced to ash, none of the decorative fabrics had escaped the flames, some burned down to their first threads, others halfway through their tapestry. Black scorch marks stained the marble floor, several stained-glass windows were cracked. A few more seconds and the glass would have exploded.
“…I…” Behind you, a trembling voice finally broke free from its daze.
Rollo was still standing exactly where the punch had left him, his hand pressed to his cheek, shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths. His voice was faint—barely more than a whisper. The fury that had filled it minutes ago had collapsed entirely.
“…I only wanted…” His voice cracked. “…to stop everything tied to magic… to remove the world’s pain”
His gaze drifted across the ruined hall, the ashes, the chaos his plan had unleashed. “This… is…”
His knee buckled and he nearly collapsed to the floor if you hadn’t moved quickly and caught his arm. The others stiffened immediately, stepping forward, ready to protect you from the suddenly fragile fanatic. You raised your hand to stop them.
Then you guided him toward the small central step and let him sit. Silence stretched as you allowed him time to breathe normally again.
On the floor beside you lay a violet handkerchief, scattered with ash. You picked it up, shook off as much dirt as possible, and held it out to him. Rollo stared at your hand, then at your eyes, then at the hand again.
His jaw tightened as he swallowed before finally taking the cloth and pressing it against his cheek, which was already darkening into a bruise.
His shoulders slumped. “…I have failed,” he whispered. “My obsession endangered thousands of citizens… and my students”
He took a shaky breath and bowed his head where he sat. “…I offer my most sincere apologies.”
The apology wasn’t just meant for you, or the seven standing behind you. It was for every guest, for his city, for his school, for the entire world he had nearly burned to the ground.
“The evening is ruined,” he said before trying to stand, you helped him again, slipping your arm under his. “The ceremony cannot continue under these conditions.”
He looked genuinely distressed, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. You kept your grip steady and glanced toward the entrance. Grim was still waiting there, sitting quietly—but clearly trying not to vibrate from the tension. The doorway itself was intact, and the area around it too.
Yes, the hall was wrecked…but wasn’t magic also meant to help, not just destroy?
Also… where the hell was Crowley when someone actually needed him? Of course. Useless bird.
“…is it?” you said, breaking the thick tension.
Rollo turned toward you, startled, and you gave him a small, almost amused look and shrugged again.
“The structure is still standing, fortunately” Your gaze swept the damaged hall. “And the guests are safe”
It seemed Malleus shared your thinking, he stepped forward. “A ceremony is not defined by perfection,” he said, extending his arms slightly toward the hall. “But by those who gather within it… and choose to remain”
Rollo blinked, slightly disoriented. Malleus stepped closer, now standing in front of both of you.
“If the host permits,” he continued, his eyes sincere and calm, “Night Raven College would be willing to offer a performance in place of the interrupted program”
Kalim’s eyes lit up instantly as he joined the circle. “Oh! We can do that!”
From further back, Idia fiddled nervously with the sleeves of his very extravagant suit. “…are we activating emergency concert mode…?” His face looked like someone ready to teleport back to his room and lock the door for the next week.
Azul removed his hat and tapped it against his leg, knocking loose a few ash particles clinging to its ocean-themed decorations. “A collaborative performance would calm the guests and stabilize the atmosphere”
Leona let out a loud grunt. “You guys are annoying”
Clearly uncomfortable with the resolution, he turned and walked down the hall, but not toward the exit. Instead he kicked a fairly intact bench and dropped onto it.
“…you’re not going to help, are you?” snapped Vil, arms crossed.
“I’m not singing if that’s what you’re asking, pretty boy” Leona leaned back, arms behind his head, eyes closing as if savoring what little peace remained before chaos resumed.
You snorted softly and turned your head away, covering your mouth to hide a smile.
“This night does not have to end in ashes,” Malleus said again. “Not if you decide otherwise.”
Rollo studied Malleus carefully, perhaps searching for resentment, disgust, or superiority. But Malleus didn’t look at people like that; you knew that. But that was something only you understood… and something you’d keep very quiet.
No, Rollo found none of those things. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes.
When he exhaled, his composure had returned. “…very well”
He slipped his arm free from yours and stood straight again. “If your school truly wishes to offer such generosity… Noble Bell College will be honored.”
The decision spread through the room like a spark catching dry wood.
Rollo moved toward the doors with renewed purpose, you followed at a slight distance, your good hand lightly touching the knuckles of the injured one through the glove. When you reached the doorway, you crouched and picked Grim up. Rollo was already speaking to the attendants, directing them into motion.
Lanterns were relit, broken furniture beyond repair was carried outside, pieces that could still stand were pushed aside, some attendants used magic to clean the soot-darkened marble. Malleus helped with that as well.
Within minutes the hall had nearly returned to its original state. The musicians who had once prepared the ceremonial music brought out instruments again, students from Noble Bell College hurried to reconstruct something resembling a formal—if now acoustic—evening.
Rollo stood at the center of it all, overseeing the work, ensuring nothing was misplaced, watching the Night Raven College delegation help, issuing calm instructions to his students.
His gaze moved across the entire hall, until it returned to you.
“I wish to offer my most sincere apology,” his voice carrying clearly across the room, the bruise on his cheek was now unmistakable. “I failed my guests… and those who showed the courage I lacked in that moment.”
His bow was so deep he nearly folded in half. You tightened your grip around Grim against your chest as you watched him straighten again.
“You intervened when reason could no longer reach me,” he continued. “And for that… you have my sincere gratitude. And my apology”
How many times had people bowed or inclined themselves before you tonight? Five? Six? Who knew.
It certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“I placed you in danger inside my own academy.” You held his gaze, but this time you didn’t bow. Your neck was already starting to ache from all the earlier ones.
“I’m just glad the city isn’t on fire.”
Rollo simply nodded and looked around again. The students of Noble Bell were nearly finished restoring the hall, and the seven dorm leaders had regrouped in their usual cluster of dramatic personalities.
Their attention was now very clearly fixed on you, you could practically feel their eyes drilling into your back. Behind the thin mask you gave yourself a completely deadpan look. They couldn't possibly be more obvious. You huffed quietly and waited while the last details were set in place, a student lit the final candle on a low chandelier.
“Earlier you mentioned that your family works in the field of musical performance,” Rollo said. You turned your head so quickly your neck nearly cracked.
“And… that you yourself train your voice.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Kalim elbow Azul so he would stop talking to Idia and pay attention. Vil's eyes sharpened with sudden artistic interest...That was definitely not a good sign.
Rollo clasped his hands together near his chest, almost pleading. “The choir scheduled for tonight has been… interrupted”
He then extended his hands toward you. “If the young lady who helped save this ceremony would be willing—even a brief performance—” His palms opened upward. “…it might help restore calm among our guests.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop a tiny panicked squeak.
Kalim suddenly jumped forward, stopping far too close to your face. “That sounds fantastic!” He grabbed both your hands enthusiastically. You flinched slightly at the stab of pain in your knuckles. “Oh! Right, sorry!”
He released the injured one immediately, though his excitement didn’t dim in the slightest. “You can sing? You didn’t mention that earlier!”
You tried to respond, anything, but your mouth stayed half-open when Azul stepped closer too, wearing an expression of dangerously genuine curiosity.
“How convenient,” he said smoothly. “It seems the young lady possessed hidden talents” His sincere smile somehow made you even more nervous.
At lightning speed your eyes scanned the seven dorm leaders and Rollo, completely unable to form a single word. Every possible response in your head was immediately replaced by another, or interrupted by something someone in front of you said.
“…this is either the best narrative resolution ever or the beginning of a catastrophic post-credits scene,” Idia whispered to Riddle, he rolled his eyes and ignored the comment.
“Well then…” Vil crossed his arms, visibly expectant. “Can you?”
His smile looked like that of a film director who had just discovered his next muse and was about to shoot the best scene of his career.
“Here we go again,” groaned Leona, pinching the bridge of the nose. “Stop crowding her again” Vil gestured for him to be quiet.
You closed your mouth...Opened it again...Closed it again; then slowly inhaled. Honestly… it had already been a very long day: You had snuck into an international festival without an official invitation; dodged lethal magic-draining flowers; lied to the host of the entire event and punched him in the face in the middle of a burning hall.
At this point…
what was one more bad decision?
“…I can try”
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
From one of the tall windows of the hall, you had a perfect view of the performance unfolding below.
Malleus stood right at the center of the marble circle—calm, steady, almost statuesque. When he sang, his voice carried through the entire hall with a strength that everyone could feel. Beside him, Azul and Idia accompanied the song with suspicious precision; you had never seen them rehearse this performance, and you were fairly certain you had never heard this song echoing through the dorm corridors either.
“…wow,” Grim whispered from your arms, barely peeking out to watch. “They’re actually killing it”
“Yeah…” You leaned forward a little more.
The other dorm leaders stood off to one side of the hall watching the performance unfold, and just as he had promised, Leona had absolutely no intention of participating.
You leaned a little farther when you noticed something odd about Idia’s performance in front of the guests. “…Is Idia using a voice device?”
“…that guy really can’t live without technology,” Grim muttered, crossing his arms. His expression flattened when he spotted the small device Idia was clearly using to sing for him.
And even so…The performance was magnificent.
Malleus’s voice sounded so majestic it was both deep and almost angelic, probably one of the many perks of being a high fae and future prince. Idia’s voice—unexpectedly delicate despite being technological—and Azul’s tone blended perfectly together.
You rested your arms on the stone window frame and closed your eyes, finally allowing yourself to enjoy the evening the way you had originally planned. Grim climbed onto the window ledge beside you, adjusting his mask so he could see better. Both of you swayed gently with the rhythm of the music, and a smile slowly spread across your face.
“They’ve got this,” you murmured quietly, tapping a finger against your arm in time with the music. “Bastards… is there anything they can’t do well?”
Grim snickered, covering his mouth with his paw to keep the sound down. “They’re totally showing off.”
You laughed quietly along with him. When you opened your eyes again, you found Grim staring at you. “You’re next.”
Your smile, which had started out sarcastic, shifted into something more mischievous.
You looked back down toward the hall. The voices still flowed together in harmony, moving around the marble circle with a grace that Vil was probably mentally approving from somewhere nearby. The second chorus was about to begin.
“Well…” you straightened up, adjusting the fall of your skirt and the lace miraculously still intact over the red brocade. “I suppose it’s time to close the night with a golden finish”
Grim looked up at you, eyes narrowing skeptically, his little paws stretching toward you to be held again.“You know how to sing?”
You lifted him and settled him onto your shoulder, both of you looked down toward the stage one last time. Your voice obviously wouldn’t sound as perfect as Malleus’s, but at least it would sound human, warm.
Or so you hoped.
You adjusted your mask and stepped toward the staircase, running your hand along the stone edge of the window and grabbing a small black fan.
“…Where did you get that fan?” Grim asked.
You opened it, revealing a simple design of floral embroidery and delicate lace. “It was on one of the benches”
“Hng… you’re adding more drama.”
Right then, Malleus’s voice surged through the entire hall structure as he reached the final note. The sound vibrated through the room, leaving behind a faint but powerful echo.
You paused mid-step and glanced upward as if your eyes could follow the note sliding through the air, then you gave Grim a playful look. “Come on” You turned toward the stairs. “We’ve got to compete with our prince”
The final chord echoed for a few seconds, applause followed, warm and energized, proof that the performance of those three had worked. The night had been saved.
You set Grim down at the top of the stairs, placing him beside a small decorative window at his height so he could watch the next act. When your heel touched the first step, the lighting along the staircase dimmed slightly, casting a softer contrast around your silhouette.
Fan open, one hand resting lightly on the railing, your heart racing a mile a minute. This would either go spectacularly well…
or become the most embarrassing moment of your life.
You glanced once more at Grim for support, he lifted one paw in a tiny thumbs-up; that was apparently the feline version of encouragement.
And so you began your descent, slow steps, measured, careful. Falling now would be catastrophic. No one wanted to watch the mysterious masked woman who had saved the evening tumble down twenty marble steps.
“Masquerade
Paper faces on parade
Masquerade
Hide your face, so the world will never find you…”
The applause died instantly, your voice wasn't loud nor powerful like Malleus’s, it didn’t have Azul’s precision, nor Idia’s delicate tone...But hopefully it was unmistakably human, and familiar. Almost… comforting.
Each step down the marble curved with the melody, the lace of the dress catching the candlelight, the fan tilting slightly, slow movements as if you were stepping into a courtship circle.
Below in the hall, the seven leaders stood still. Malleus, Idia, and Azul had returned to stand with the others and now the entire group once again had their eyes fixed on you.
Both Azul and Riddle tensed in unison, not expecting your voice to emerge so soft. Singing while descending a staircase could be rather complicated if you didn’t have proper vocal control; walking while singing alone could already be tiring and might make your voice tremble.
Kalim, who stood on the opposite side of Riddle, grabbed his sleeve and began shaking it, pointing at you as you continued your descent. His mouth hung open, nearly reaching the floor, forming a small wow while you fanned yourself with each descending step.
“Masquerade
Every face a different shade
Masquerade
Look around, there’s another mask behind you”
You continued downward, slow but steady, each step landing precisely with the tempo of the lyrics. Now the fan moved a little faster.
Vil followed your figure with every step, every movement of your dress flowing smoothly over the stairs; your posture perfectly straight, your weight settling properly onto each foot as it should, the heels striking neatly in time with the tempo. He watched how you moved the fan, as if it were a supporting actor that required very little to be perfect.
Idia stood behind Vil, slightly hunched with his mask poorly positioned; it looked like he had removed it for a moment after the performance, or rather, like he had deflated after carrying out such an intense social activity in front of so many people. His head barely leaned past Vil’s shoulder as he watched how you didn’t need much to sound… simple, soothing.
The last curve of the staircase opened beneath your feet. The light framed you warmer there, spilling gold across the newly polished floor. You extended the hand holding the fan slightly to the side as the verse neared its end, and when your foot touched the final step…the music swelled, the violins accompanying the delicate chimes while a few percussion instruments followed.
“Flash of mauve,
Splash of puce,
Fool and king,
Ghoul and goose,
Green and black,
Queen and priest,
Trace of rouge,
Face of beast”
You advanced farther into the open hall, guests stepped aside to give you room, as if the song itself were clearing a path for you. The warmth of your voice filled the space the fear had left behind earlier, moving through the hall softer than magic, steadier than the ceremony.
Leona had remained leaning against a pillar, watching without making any visible movement or comment toward the others. His arms rested at his sides, palms against the pillar, his gaze moving up and down your figure as he watched you walk through the crowd. But he wasn’t looking at you the way Vil was.
No. He observed you as if trying to solve a puzzle that had been gnawing at him since the afternoon in the plaza. The mysterious masked girl who had stumbled into the group and carried herself with a natural ease almost humiliating for the seven of them clearly had an ace up her sleeve… an ace that felt strangely familiar, though he couldn’t remember from where.
And Malleus…was doing exactly the same. Watching you; but with a softer gaze, as though he were seeing a nymph within her own spring and he were merely a mortal fortunate enough to stumble upon her, fate too generous to allow him to witness such a spectacle.
Then…more voices joined, almost by accident. A voice close to you murmured quietly, then a couple near the edge of the circle, just above the violins, then another pair, cautious but slightly more confident.
All of those voices testing whether they were allowed to join—as though they were forming a chorus to accompany your performance. And you allowed it.
A performance so human was always better when accompanied, wasn’t it?
“Faces
Take your turn, take a ride
On the merry-go-round
In an inhuman race…”
A pair of masked dancers stepped onto the open floor, slowly and cautiously at first; no choreography, only instinct, their movements catching the rhythm just as the candlelight caught the stained glass.
More joined. It wasn’t a full dance yet—just a movement here, another there. And gradually, what had begun with only your voice started turning into a complete spectacle.
You moved the fan in flowing motions upward with the rhythm of the lyrics—the dramatic courtship play Grim had mentioned.
“Eye of gold,
Thigh of blue,
True is false,
Who is who?
Curl of lip,
Swirl of gown,
Ace of hearts,
Face of clown”
The chorus of guests was unmistakable now, harmonizing with yours—not raising their voices to compete with you, but filling the space so the performance reverberated just as powerfully as Malleus’s voice alone had earlier.
Dozens of voices intertwined softly beneath yours; it was like watching the masquerade itself sing to close the night. Silk skirts began to spin, cloaks gliding across the floor, candlelight casting soft shadows over every figure and across the marble.
“Faces
Drink it in, drink it up
Till you’ve drowned in the light, in the sound
But who can name the face?”
You turned your head toward a woman dressed exquisitely, wearing an immaculate violet gown, a mask almost identical to yours covered her eyes, she also carried a fan matching her dress.
With a movement that seemed rehearsed, the two of you raised your fans in front of your faces at the same moment. Everyone nearby who held a fan did exactly the same.
And for the third time that evening—after an inconvenient encounter, after an infernal chaos—the event finally felt like a masquerade again.
Right there, at the center of everything, this time a center you had actually sought, you found yourself surrounded by a ballroom that had willingly become part of your song.
“Masquerade!
Grinning yellows, spinning reds
Masquerade!
Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!”
The dance burst to life.
No longer were there hesitant couples barely swaying, now they spun with confidence to the sound of the violins, gowns and suits tracing wide arcs across the marble floor. You moved among the turns like a master of ceremonies, your skirt’s movement blending with the others, spinning not to dance but to carry your voice to every corner of the hall.
Kalim’s eyes widened as he watched the sea of fabrics spinning and spinning—it was dizzying just to see so much coordination. “Oh! People are really joining in!”
Azul watched keenly. “Fascinating… she’s stabilizing the entire room”
A few steps away, a Noble Bell student, tall, immaculate, his uniform pristine and untouched by ash, walked directly toward you.
Closer, closer still, until he stood only a single step away, moving in rhythm with the crowd, following your steps before bowing and extending his hand.
A formal invitation, a very legitimate one, the kind of official invitation you had hoped for ever since the festival had been announced. All afternoon you had hesitated about where to walk, hesitated about what to say so you wouldn’t be discovered. Now…
you simply wanted to dance, and you accepted the invitation without stopping your singing.
You snapped the fan closed softly against your hip while allowing him to guide you into the swirling mass of couples turning across the floor. Some dancers even lifted their partners into the air, far too bold a movement for you, so you wisely didn’t attempt it.
Your dance was coordinated and fairly simple compared to the others, whose steps already carried the etiquette of ballroom tradition, yours remained softer, movements that allowed the dress to breathe and form dark circles trimmed with red, and enough stillness that your voice could continue floating above the chorus.
The student spun you once just as the orchestra swelled, your dress opened in a dark flare that caught the golden light like a glowing ember refusing to fade.
Across the floor, the seven dorm leaders watched as the performance had truly become that— a performance.
Dance, music, lead voice, chorus. Had you really not planned this from the start?
Vil murmured more to himself than the others, captivated by the way your dress followed every turn. “Control, breath rhythm, audience integration.” He adjusted both sleeves before adding his final verdict. “She has stage instinct”
He walked straight into the crowd and invited the first person he saw waiting near the edge of the dance floor. The others stared in silence for a few seconds before Kalim burst into laughter and strode toward the center as well, inviting a Noble Bell student to dance.
The hall had fully surrendered now, no more uncertain steps or scattered movements—only a sea of silk and velvet, feathered hats swaying in the air, lace glimmering beneath the softened lights.
Couples changed hands in coordinated turns, everyone pulsed with the rhythm of the music.
“You can fool
Any friend who ever knew you”
The student guiding you spun you once more, then another step, then he released your hand with elegant timing within the flow of the dance, allowing another guest to take it. Then another, and another; You remained on the dance floor as if you had been born to dance until sunrise.
The orchestra never truly stopped after that.
One song melted into the next, the tempo rising and softening in waves while the lantern light grew warmer, as though the night itself had finally remembered what it was meant to be.
And you danced, and danced, and danced. Occasionally glancing upward toward the window where Grim watched from his hiding place, until he grew bored and hurried down the stairs toward a small table where snacks and drinks had been arranged.
And Grim, being Grim, went straight for the snacks. You shook your head, amused, unable to suppress the smile at the irony of it all: Grim worrying only about food, completely forgetting the stealth part…while you danced with strangers.
At first.
Because in the middle of another turn, Kalim arrived. He practically bounced his way over, bowing with an enthusiastic sincerity that somehow remained perfectly polite.
“May I?” he asked, already smiling as though the answer could only be yes.
His dancing was open, slightly less precise than the formal protocol demanded, but relaxed enough that the turns felt light and smooth rather than rigid and ceremonial.
If the music hadn’t dictated the style, Kalim probably would have dragged you into a dozen far more energetic moves across the entire floor.
“Best night ever,” he laughed softly as you spun together. His laughter was so contagious it made you laugh too—though you kept it much more controlled this time.
“I’m really glad you stayed” He spun you again in a partner exchange.
Next came Riddle. He stepped forward with impeccable posture, offering his hand with textbook ceremonial formality. “I would like to request this dance,” he said, composed, but unmistakably sincere.
His steps were perfect, structured, exactly as ballroom manuals likely instructed for someone leading a partner. Not stiff, simply precise—as if every movement had been practiced until he could guide another person with absolute confidence.
“You handle chaos surprisingly well,” he admitted quietly during a turn.
Ah…if only you knew
Then came Azul. He bowed with a touch of theatrical flair, though still formal, like a merchant about to greet a valuable soul. “It would be a tragedy not to experience a dance with you”
He guided you effortlessly, every step deliberate, every movement calculated so that you appeared exquisite, as though you were a rare piece in an impossibly expensive collection. And he remained in the background…letting you shine.
Vil arrived afterward as if the night itself had set a timer so he would appear at the exact right moment, balancing the aesthetic of the three who had gone before him.
His hand was firm, confident; the dance elegant without effort, posture impeccable, movement fluid—the kind of partner who doesn’t just dance but shapes the entire image of the ballroom around him.
“You understand presentation,” he murmured near your ear. “Presence. That’s rare to find” He released your hand for an open step, ending with you spinning on yourself and landing briefly in the blond’s arms before he let you go again.
You were surprised when Idia came next. His expression showed he was fighting every ounce of his anxiety and preparing himself like someone about to face a hidden final boss.
“…okay.” He took your hand in his, visibly trembling and a little hesitant. “Statistically speaking I’m going to regret this—or die—if I don’t at least try once…”
His steps were clumsy, but not enough for you to step on his feet, nor for him to step on yours. Idia had more secrets tucked up his sleeves than he liked to show the world.
One step, then another, and then, surprisingly, he became careful, mentally counting the next movements so you could continue looking radiant in your dress. “It’s easy… being next to you,” he admitted quietly, placing a hand on your waist. “That… that’s not common for me.”
Leona came next. He didn’t arrive in a spin, handing you off to the next dancer. No; he simply appeared when the music slowed slightly, one brow raised and the corner of his mouth faintly lifted, refusing you the honor of seeing a full smile.
His hand extended with the same casual inevitability he had shown in the plaza. “Come on. You already survived the worst of it”
His grip was firm, steady, strong enough that dancing with him felt like walking beside someone who had temporarily decided not to bite anyone.
Like with Idia, you were surprised by how careful Leona could be while dancing. Of course, as a prince he had been forced to learn etiquette and ballroom lessons. And now you were witnessing the results of that irritating education.
Very good results, to be honest.
Because when the choreography called for the lead to lift his partner again, Leona didn’t hesitate, nor did he give you a warning, he lifted you by the waist. You let out a small yelp before touching the floor again, Leona steadied you against him so you wouldn’t stumble during the next steps.
“You don’t show panic,” he said quietly, leaning closer to whisper near your ear. “Didn’t expect to find someone like that at an event this pompous.”
And finally...Malleus.
He appeared without hurry, not interrupting the moment you had with Leona until the partners changed naturally. He stepped forward as the music reached the last measures of the slow dance, transitioning toward something deeper and more intimate, an instant carved into midnight itself as the first rhythm came to a close.
“May I share this dance?” he asked softly, bowing slightly before taking your hand and guiding you through the final movements of that first rhythm with the other dancers.
His hand was warm around yours, his steps slow, deliberate, impossibly gentle for someone so tall and imposing, as if the music being played had been written specifically for the two of you.
“You brought light back to this hall tonight,” he said quietly so only you could hear him, ignoring everyone else around you. “Whether you intended to or not”
Laughter floated through the air as the first rhythm of the night ended. Seven dances, with seven boys, all stepping away from you carrying the same strange feeling, that they had just spent time with someone important… and somehow familiar.
And you allowed yourself to keep smiling and dancing. For once, you allowed yourself to have the night Crowley had stolen from you.
One dance became two; two became five.
At some point the evening stopped feeling like something you had infiltrated and barely survived, and became something you were simply living. Living far from the cold walls of Ramshackle, far from the magic-soaked stone of NRC.
In the distance, the spell of the moment broke with a bell chime, small and practical. A bell announcing that it was already very late.
Your eyes shot toward the tall clock mounted against the marble wall. “…oh no.”
You had approached the snack table, where Grim had apparently devoured everything edible and was now curled up beside it waiting for you.
When he heard you mutter, he lifted his head. “Mm?”
“We’re out of time,” you said, looking at him in horror.
“HMNYA?!” he jumped up.
“If we don’t leave now,” you whispered in his ear, avoiding attracting attention, the earlier squeak had already made several guests glance toward the table, “we won’t get back to campus before they do”
You scanned the crowd, searching for an escape route. “And if Crowley gets there first—”
Grim gasped and jumped into your arms. “We’re dead”
“Exactly”
The music swelled again and several people stepped back into the center of the hall for another round, perfect cover. You adjusted Grim in your arms and reopened the fan, hiding him slightly as you began walking quickly.
“Okay, we walk fast,” you said quietly while heading toward the reading hall doors. “No running. We blend in with the people leaving and slip out before anyone notices.”
You pushed your way step by step through the living sea of masks, guests, and students, gliding between couples mid-turn, passing laughing students.
Every movement controlled to avoid suspicion, but urgent.
You were only a few steps away, close enough to feel the cool night air slipping through the carved gap in the wooden door, close enough that one more step would take you out of the lantern light, the music, the masquerade entirely.
And you pushed the enormous door open, stepping straight into the outer corridor.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
“This was probably the most fun disaster I’ve ever attended.” Kalim had his hands behind his head, still smiling as if the night hadn’t stopped being magical.
The dorm leaders had gathered near one of the marble pillars. The music from the hall drifted faintly just a few meters away.
Riddle adjusted his gloves, nodded, and placed his hands behind his back. “The structural damage was severe, but the response was… effective.”
Azul had picked up a glass from the table, apparently unaware that Grim had already raided the food there. He swirled it in his hand, watching the liquid spiral slightly.
“Indeed” He took a small sip and looked toward the hall doors. “Although there is still one clause unresolved”
Vil had followed him and taken a glass of wine, sipping occasionally. He hadn’t even finished half of it. “The mysterious lady”
Idia nodded, by now he had removed his mask. “Mysterious young woman, SSR-tier character who punches the main villain with maxed-out stats.”
Kalim, who had only half been listening, glanced around—the others, the muffled music beyond the door, the outer corridor—his gaze bounced everywhere for a moment, then he suddenly straightened, exhaling through his nose.
“She said her brother studies at NRC.” That made the others turn toward him.
Vil lifted the glass to his lips thoughtfully, his eyes sharp though his mind clearly elsewhere. “Yes… that detail is useful”
“The NRC enrollment is not infinite,” Riddle said with a slight frown. “Establishing familial connections may take time” He sighed. “But it will not be impossible”
Vil set the glass carefully on a stone bench. “A voice like that won’t remain hidden for long.”
“Yes,” Malleus added calmly, his eyes drifting toward the hall. “Fate rarely introduces someone only once” Vil crossed his arms at that remark, giving a small nod before following the direction of Malleus’s gaze.
Leona had remained leaning against the column beside Kalim the entire time, hands in his pockets, head tilted toward the hall doors—still listening to the distant music and the crowd dancing, laughing, talking.
“Maybe we’ll see her again before the night ends—” Kalim started.
But Leona’s ears sharpened, his eyes narrowed toward the distance.
“…Oi” That was all he said to make the others pay attention.
On the other side of the outer corridor, the great doors of the hall opened—and there you were, moving quickly. The black and crimson dress was unmistakable even under the dim light of the corridor, the small creature tucked in your arms as you hurried toward the outer doors.
That alone was enough for the seven of them to straighten in unison, watching your figure cross the corridor. Kalim pointed at you and barely raised his voice to say, “There she goes!”
Vil stepped forward immediately, then another step, Azul set his own glass beside Vil’s, adjusted his suit, and followed him. The seven of them began to move closer, like a flock of crows closing in on a small prey, or rather… their little dove.
They were close enough to see you, but not close enough for you to notice them. Your figure passed beside a guest whose decorations stuck out everywhere, especially along the sleeves and shoulders.
And then the most cliché, ridiculous thing that could possibly happen at an event like this happened.
A strand of your hair snagged as you rushed past, and the ribbon of your mask caught on the guest’s decorations.
“Ah—sorry!” the guest said, quickly freeing your hair and the ribbon when your head jerked backward. The tug made you drop Grim, and he jumped to the floor.
“It’s nothing,” you replied, continuing forward once your hair came loose. The guest went his way while you headed straight for the outer doors.
The ribbon slipped free, the mask fell one step later. You instinctively turned, bringing a hand to the back of your head, startled as the fabric mask dropped to the ground.
One second, one undeniable second was all it took for your face to be completely revealed under the moonlight. The mystery shattered, and before the seven leaders of NRC, the young lady was revealed:
The Prefect of Ramshackle.
Meanwhile you were far too busy picking up the fallen mask, your heart pounding like you had just run a marathon when the realization hit you all at once.
“…oh shit—” You snatched the mask off the floor and bolted toward the door.
“GRIM!” you shouted, your voice now unmistakably clear in the night air and the quiet city. “MOVE OR YOU’RE SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR WITHOUT TUNA FOR A WEEK IF WE’RE LATE!”
The small hooded creature shrieked in terror. “YES, PREFECT—!”
The two of you ran like a princess racing back to her tower before the spell wore off...except you looked more like two idiots sprinting full speed toward the city lights as if your lives, and possibly your financial privileges, depended on it. Within seconds the darkness swallowed you both, disappearing down the outer corridor toward the main gates.
Silence followed, and the ones who had been pursuing you with steady steps… were left stunned by the revelation.
Kalim’s jaw dropped, not caring how dramatic or over-the-top he looked; Riddle’s eyes widened and a faint blush colored his cheeks; Azul removed his glasses to clean them with trembling hands, an entirely pointless gesture, as he pinched the bridge of his nose; Idia made a strangled sound, like his system had just crashed into a blue screen he couldn’t reboot; Leona and Vil blinked at the same time, shooting each other a sidelong glance; Malleus simply watched as the final piece of the puzzle clicked neatly into place, confirming that lingering sense of familiarity.
A pause followed...A long pause, far too long.
Vil didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his entire existence. He pressed his lips into a thin line, moved his hands aimlessly for a moment, and was just about to turn away in frustration. “…oh for fuck’s sake.” The fact that he had sworn meant you had played your move perfectly.
Idia crouched down and buried his face in his hands. “I want to die”
Azul, still pinching the bridge of his nose, let out a long breath. “We should have known”
And honestly, yes.
They had been idiots not to realize; inside their minds the gears finally started turning: The voice, her composure in danger, that laugh, the ridiculous courage, the familiar, the way she handled chaos without magic.
Leona dragged a hand down his face and let out a deep, irritated growl. “She masked her scent so we wouldn’t notice”
Kalim, whose mouth had still been hanging open, suddenly burst into a small laugh as he looked toward where you had disappeared. “Oh! That makes so much sense!” He laughed freely.
“No wonder we could flirt with her so naturally”
“FLIRT?!”
“NOBODY HERE FLIRTED WITH ANYONE!”
“MY CHARISMA STAT IS NOT THAT HIGH!”
Several voices erupted at once, some embarrassed, some shy, some in complete denial. Malleus, still perfectly composed in the middle of the chaos, simply closed his eyes and allowed his companions to argue, offering the night a small smile.
Leona didn’t even stay to watch the end of the debate over who had flirted more. He simply closed his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked back toward the hall, he shouting was already giving him a headache.
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