The brain is on fire, and light fucking hurts, which is making it very hard to write. And to think, if I'm honest. HOWEVER. I cannot not think of my girl. Consider:
Essë the sorcerous is looked upon as competent and a trustworthy soldier on the battlefield. It's a position that she doesn't enjoy, because conscription, but that she likes, because power is privilege is ease. She's not a troublemaker who makes her people look bad. She's respected. She's listened to.
There's no bilge duty for she who is ascending to the heights of the academy's ivory towers. But in ascending she sure is getting herself into some shit.