maxim pushed the door open to the study where juste spent most of his time, tip-toeing across the room to find his way to an unoccupied armchair. juste has his nose in a book, studying some new spell, and maxim lets the sound of flipping pages lull him into an uneasy doze. " what are you studying now? "
you barely notice the creak of your study’s door opening, attention entirely focused on the book and thick stack of notes spread before you. something had gone wrong with your latest experiment and if you’re to stand any chance of overcoming your mother in the approaching trial, you know that every spell you cast must be perfectly prepared. your hands and the cuff of your shirt sleeves are splotched with ink stains, one finger aglow with magic– in turn, a spoon is stirring a cup of tea while you shuffle through a sheaf of papers in search of ice magic. you are the picture of intense concentration… is it any really wonder you don’t notice your best friend’s entry?
the thump of something hitting an armchair only half-catches your attention, though it’s not enough to drag your attention from your notes just yet– you’ve found what you’re looking for at long last. now just to cross-reference it with this grimoire you found in the family archives; there’s no name attached to it, though you’ve come to believe it may have belonged to sypha belnades herself. surely it must have; until you, none of your family has displayed such magical prowess. not even grandfather.
( in your youth, you had clung to this spellbook as though it were as holy as the bible itself. only the words sypha left behind could help you control the magic within, and you’d liked imagining what she might say to you as you trained. )
at least you’ve found the problem with the spell now: a missing rune that would tie the power of the cross to the elements; in this case, ice. your quill flies across your notes, circling the problem area and dragging an arrow out to mark in the rune… as well as an explanation of what went wrong, why you need it, and the date. you’ll have to rewrite it all later so your notes are tidy, but that’s fine. as long as you can get this working within a week…
maxim speaks up, and you’re suddenly very aware of his presence– head bolting up almost comically, sending pulled-back hair swinging as you hurry to stuff thequill back into its inkwell and set your papers down. you turn just a little tooquickly, and the glow of magic fades abruptly; the clink of the spoon in your teacup a sign that it has stopped moving.
“… how long have you been here?” you blink once, twice, and smile apologetically. “sorry. i didn’t hear you come in.”
you reach for your tea now, taking a sip only to wince– it’s gone cold. when had that happened…? you swallow it down all the same, if only to put off answering hisquestion. ever since that skirmish in the village, maxim has seemed… distant. even more so than before. he won’tquite meet your eyes, and something in the way he speaks to you feels… hostile. yet not. as though he’s trying to beat back negative emotions, but it’s difficult to let them go entirely. every time you’ve asked if something was wrong, he’s denied it rather vehemently. yet… you can tell. every time he gazes upon the vampire killer hooked at your mother’s waist, or every time talk turns to the inevitable test of strength you’re to face, he’s… unhappy. you don’t want to upset him further.
“the ice servant,” you say at last, eyes flicking back to the parchment spread haphazardly across your work table. “there was something wrong with the way the crosses were encased with ice– it’d splinter and fall right off, which is… what i want it to do, yes, but the idea is that the shards of ice pierce the enemy, not… fall to the ground and become slush. i thought at first i was simply mispronouncing part of my incantations so i tried it today with a pronunciation guide from this grimoire and– slush again. and again. and again. i’ve been trying to figure out what might be going wrong since after supper; turns out an entire rune is missing in the middle part that makes the ice stay on. i’m starting to think i started this entire project half-asleep, now that i’ve been looking at this spell more critically– how embarrassing on my part. … oh. sorry. i don’t mean to talk your ear off like this when you seem… tired.”
