The Last Daughter -- Dragon-Blooded Sorcery School Quest

In a real sense, explaining yourselves is more arduous than the actual fighting had been.

The five of you — Amiti, Darting Fish, Deiza, L'nessa, and yourself — ended up having a long discussion with several staff members where you were asked, in detail, to explain and justify your actions. As with all things at the Heptagram, you're left with the strong impression that this is being used as a learning experience.

Darting Fish, having recruited a number of younger students to assist him with an experiment that had gone disastrously and nearly gotten two of them drowned or eaten, was subjected to the greatest amount of scrutiny. You'd been correct in that your scant evidence that Peleps Nalri had been directly involved had not been enough to sway the school against her, although the way Instructor Zadaki's eyes had narrowed when you brought her up leads you to believe that someone, at least, will be keeping a closer watch on her.

In the end, Darting Fish is tasked with helping to restock the cliff-face's depopulated chimerical guardians, a highly unpleasant task that will also be greatly helpful to his research, if he pursues it diligently. Out of you younger students, the only one who has been tasked with assisting him is Amiti, for the sheer excess of her methods of keeping the guardians off of you and Deiza.

You would have argued that this was unfair, if Amiti herself had seemed to have any interest whatsoever in avoiding this task. She's only barely managing to not look outright delighted at the thought of it.

"We can't let her get away with this," Maia says, later that night.

"I intend to make her regret her actions, at some point in the future," you say.

Maia sits on her bed, hunched in on herself. "You could have been killed. It should be more than just a bit of regret," she says. Despite the vulnerability in her posture, there's something very serious and harsh in her tone. The combination is... distracting.

"Maia, be careful about saying such things," L'nessa says. "She's a Peleps. Please, try to remember your family's debts."

Maia doesn't look up, instead seeming very intent on contemplating the floorboards. "I always do," she says.

L'nessa frowns, pausing where she is. She's been pacing the length of the room this whole time, fretfully shedding a few leaves as she goes. From experience, you can tell when she's on the verge of going from friendly advice to friendly lecture, which will take more time than you'd like. You interrupt:

"Maia, may I speak to you?" you ask. "Alone?"

Maia gives a slight start. "What about?" she asks.

You hesitate, ignoring L'nessa's raised eyebrows. "I will explain in private," you say.

"We're close to lights out," L'nessa says, watching Maia slide off the bed, and back into her boots. Amusement and nervous energy are clearly winning out over L'nessa's earlier concern. You're depressingly certain she has a good idea of what you want to talk to Maia about.

"We'll have time," you say, rising from your desk chair. Silent and confused, Maia follows you out of the dorm, and back into the rapidly emptying halls of the school.

You move quickly, feet almost automatically taking you to a place you know will be quiet at this time of night. Your route goes up a level, and around to the library tower. That familiar quiet atmosphere overtakes you both. You wait until you're a ways in, with no sign of anyone else, before you steel yourself, and turn around.

Alone in the stacks, with Maia staring at you uncertainly, you're uncomfortably aware that this is precisely the sort of secluded place in the library tower that Deiza and Keric had been using for their unorthodox 'language studies'. The silence stretches on for long seconds as everything that you'd prepared to say on the way here seems to evaporate out of your mind. Finally, you just say: "You asked about what Simendor said to me."

"I... did," Maia says, plainly only more confused.

"She implied that I wanted to get you into bed. And that you'd agree to it, because it would be good for your family. That's why I tried to hit her." The words are blunt, abrupt, and Maia takes a second or two to digest them. To your concern, she seems to hunch in on herself slightly, looking a little like you've just slapped her in the face.

You frown. "What's wrong?"

It takes Maia a second or two to find her voice again. When she does, it's very quiet, and very carefully measured. "Nothing. It is... unforgivably crass that Simendor Deiza would imply such a thing about you." Wait, about you? That isn't the part that had made you mad! "If you will excuse me, my lady, I have... tasks to complete." The formality cuts you like a knife, painful enough that you can't immediately respond. Maia gives you a respectful half bow, and turns stiffly on her heel, already beginning to walk away.

You know, instantly, that if you let her get out of sight, you will never find her while she doesn't want to be found. You take two long strides, catch up to her, and physically grab Maia by the wrist, pulling her back around to face you. She looks up at you with plain startlement. "I wasn't angry that she thought I was interested in you!" you say, your voice a frustrated hiss. "I was angry because she was making it sound like you wouldn't want... me, but you'd go along with it anyway!"

Maia continues to stare, genuinely shocked at your outburst. You're aware, suddenly, of how close you're both standing, of her deceptive delicacy. She doesn't pull away, and you don't let go of her arm, despite the sensation of a dagger hilt digging into your palm through her uniform sleeve. "And you think that she's right?"

"I..." frustration wells up in your chest. You're filled with the sudden, intense urge just to pull her close to you and kiss her, to make things as plain as possible as simply as possible. You do lean in closer to her — improperly close — but instead of closing those final inches between you, you whisper: "Just... tell me you want this. Or that you don't." It comes out as a lot closer to a plea than you'd intended.

Maia swallows, opens her mouth, visibly trying to find words that aren't immediately coming to her. Then she puts her free hand behind your neck, leans up, and gives you a quick, darting kiss, lips soft and awkward against your own. "Since a month after I met you," she says, almost too quietly to hear. You can feel her hand, warm and trembling, against your neck. "I hope that answers—"

The rest of her answer is cut off in a sharp gasp you pull her back in for another, far deeper, kiss, keeping your hold on her wrist even as you wrap your free arm around her back. She relaxes into your arms, and it's exactly what you've wanted for over a year.

When you finally break off for air, Maia stays in close against you, her head finding its way to your shoulder. "It was a good answer," you say, smiling with almost undignified relief.

Maia giggles, stifling the noise against your school tunic. You feel a small, metallic snake head against your throat, and realise that Verdigris has slipped out of your sleeve at some point, and is now draped across Maia's narrow shoulders.

"I had to say something, after today," you say, a little quieter.

"Because you nearly died," Maia says, voice cracking a little.

"Because I could have died," you say, the correction gentle. "I do quite well in these situations, I think. And I wasn't stuck holding up the ceiling this time." Even if you had to keep Deiza from going over the cliff instead.

"I'm... really what you thought of first, after all that?" she asks.

Almost literally. "To be fair, I think about you more than you seem to have guessed."

She nods, a shallow movement you feel more than see. Then, reluctantly, she pulls away, and you let her. "We need to get back soon," she says.

She's right, but you're not really worried — you feel better, just now, than you have in a long time. "L'nessa is going to be insufferable about this," you say, turning back the way you came.

Maia laughs again, and falls in beside you.

---

"What's going to be insufferable," L'nessa says, the next morning, "is sharing a room with you two for the next four and a half years. This is going to be an ongoing thing, yes?"

"It is," you say, trying not to be too annoyed as you begin to address your breakfast.

"Well, good," L'nessa says. "Maia would take that very hard. She's been nursing that infatuation with you since first year, after all."

"How did you know that and I didn't?" you ask.

"Honestly, I ask myself the same question," L'nessa says.

Your glower for her melts into a genuine smile as you see Maia approaching the table from across the room. Her own smile is a little nervous as she slides into the spot beside yours.

"Oh, good, here you are," says L'nessa, wasting no time. "Ground rules!"

"... Ground rules?" Maia asks.

"For you two, while we're all rooming together," L'nessa says, simply. As if this topic isn't even a little mortifying. "I am, of course, thrilled for you both, but I will require some basic consideration and restraint when it comes to..."

You and Maia listen as L'nessa lays out a number of very reasonable and slightly embarrassing requests for the sake of her peace of mind, phrased delicately enough that you could not possibly complain. This doesn't stop Maia's face from growing redder and redder as she goes on.

You're grateful, sometimes, that your complexion doesn't show a blush like that. Not that that would currently be a problem, of course.

As L'nessa winds down, though, you can't help but notice a strange pair of students exchanging tense looking words out in the hallway beyond the meal hall. Sola, her expression serious but calm, is seemingly talking to Simendor Deiza out of earshot of the general breakfast crowd. As you watch, Sola says something that makes Deiza nod once sharply, turn on her heel, and walk away, not even bothering to head in for breakfast.

Sola sighs, walks into the meal hall, and heads straight for your table.

"What was that about?" You ask.

Sola shrugs. "Nothing it would reflect well on me to repeat," she says, with a light sort of tone that tells you this is the most you'll get on this subject.

"Did she ask you to let her see the sword again?" Maia asks. Sola is already wearing the daiklave on her belt at this time of morning, because she always is.

"That, I think, she's given up on," Sola says. Which is almost surprising to you, given House Simendor's slightly unseemly fixation on orichalcum. "Speaking of which, you went out and fought half the cliff guardian flock, and you brought Amiti?"

"The plan involved a great deal more studious note taking and carefully controlled experimentation," you say. "And she acquitted herself quite well, honestly."

"'Oh, I have a great spell for cleaning bones!'" L'nessa's voice takes on a good enough imitation of Amiti's inappropriately cheerful tones that you can't help but smile. Maia is trying very hard not to giggle "Turns out, it cleans bones still attached to living things pretty well too. Rather revolting, if very useful under the circumstances." She's more amused than actually condemning.

"I'd promise to take you to the next disaster, but ideally that's the most excitement we'll have for a good few months," you say to Sola. Who has the gall to look faintly skeptical as she chews a mouthful of breakfast.

"Oh, was it the most excitement you've had lately?" L'nessa asks, voice innocent.

Maia starts to sink down in her seat, face slowly reddening all over again.

"You," you say, completely without heat, "are an evil woman." L'nessa laughs. Unseen beneath the table, your hand brushes against Maia's. Not enough to be unseemly in so public a place. Maia doesn't exactly stop blushing, but she seems a little reassured.

Sola glances between the three of you, eyebrows raised. "Is there something you want to tell me, or are we only communicating in cryptic hints, right now?"

Naturally, the entire school knows inside of a week.

---

Apart from the ongoing issue of Peleps Nalri, there is only one final incident to put a bow on the whole misadventure. At the time, you don't pay it a great deal of heed.

Days later, you come out of the lecture hall near the rear of the group, only to find Simendor Deiza loitering around the exit. She makes eye contact with you, then glances away. Wordlessly, you continue onward. While you're of course not one to entertain any childish grudges, if she wants to talk to you, she should say so.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mnemon Keric standing beside her, giving her an uncharacteristically forceful sort of glare. Whatever it is she sees in his eyes, Deiza sighs and moves to catch up with you.

"Do you have a moment?" Deiza asks, feigning casualness.

You give her a shallow nod, stepping to the side of the hallway with a dignified sort of air. You look at her expectantly, having no idea what is going to come of this.

Deiza takes in a breath and lets it out, as if steeling herself for something deeply unpleasant. Then she bows — it's shallow, a formal gesture among social equals, but you're too shocked by even this much from her to quibble over familial standing. "Lady Ambraea, allow me to apologise for the insult I offered you earlier this term. It was uncalled for."

You're quiet for a moment. Then, with slightly less than your usual grace, you say: "So, you can act like a Dynast when you want to."

Deiza shoots you an irritated look, immediately dropping the formal tones. "Oh, just accept it or tell me to go away." From over her shoulder, you see Keric wince in a mortified sort of way. This was no doubt his idea.

"Your apology is accepted, Lady Deiza," you tell her, relenting. "We will consider the matter behind us."

"Well, it's good we're doing that," Deiza says. You choose not to read any dryness into her tone.

"Quite," you say, and coolly walk away.

Not every schoolgirl grudge needs to be nursed until it's something worse. You'll have enough to worry about this term... And enough to look forward to, without dragging this on more than it needs to be.

---

Descending Wood, Realm Year 761

Two years, seven months before the disappearance of the Scarlet Empress

There are always serious considerations for the academic break. As ever, it is your opportunity to make an impression on Dynastic society in between your long months of study. You'd be lying if you said that that's the first thing on your mind now, however.

"I hope that you will call on me at your convenience, as we discussed," you say. Your tone is staid, proper. Not nearly as affectionate as you'd like.

Maia bows. "Your regard humbles me, my lady. I will be certain to do so soon." While not as expensive as what a Dynast could afford, you can't help but think that the cut of her clothes — dark blue and flowing in the Incas style — lend her a more graceful look than the Heptagram's student uniform.

You incline your head graciously. You're in public, at the docks in Chanos, having just disembarked from the ship. You sense many eyes on the two of you, whether incidental or appraising.

You wish you could touch her.

The connection you two formed has deepened over the course of the previous term. However, between your studies and the fact that you both share a room with your niece, it has been a thing of furtive glances and stolen moments, and very little of the sort of privacy you'd like.

As Maia straightens, you catch sight of Demure Peony over her shoulder, standing patiently at a respectable distance. Something about the apprehensive set of Peony's shoulders makes you take a second look, however:

A young man stands beside her, resplendent in the colours of an Imperial messenger, patiently waiting for the Dragon-Blooded to finish talking. A twist of nervousness stirs in the pit of your stomach. "Excuse me," you say to Maia, "but I think that's probably for me." She turns to follow your gaze, but you're already walking over to the messenger.

Peony bows low at your approach, but doesn't speak — the young man is already stepping forward. He bows as well, not a hair out of place or a speck of dirt on his clothing, holding out a sealed letter to you with enough reverence that it might have been made of solid jade. "For the Lady Ambraea, Beloved of Pasiap, by Imperial decree."

You accept the letter wordlessly, spending a few precious seconds to take in the seal — brilliantly red wax, shot through with precious red jade dust. Even hardened, it's warm to the touch. You break it without further hesitation, and read the contents with grave efficiency. When you finish, you go back to the beginning and read it again, frowning thoughtfully.

"I hope it isn't bad news?" Maia asks, choosing her words carefully.

"No," you say, the half-truth coming easily off your tongue. "I have been asked to attend the Imperial Presence, at the Imperial Palace, at my earliest convenience. I could never call this anything but an honour and a privilege."

You regard the messenger coolly, and say: "Thank you. As I will be traveling faster than your reply could, you have carried out your duty. My handmaiden will see your service appropriately complimented." Wearing Imperial colours or not, it's a poor Dynast who can't afford at least a coin for a messenger.

Peony seems to parse at a glance that you'd like a moment's privacy, and skillfully draws the messenger away in order to see to a suitable tip.

"You'll be leaving immediately, then?" Maia asks.

You consider this. 'At your earliest convenience', from your mother, has very little leeway, for someone with access to sorcerous means of travel. "No," you decide. "First thing tomorrow morning. I will need the rest of the day to make arrangements, and then... a good night's sleep."

The need for haste is very good at chasing away any nervousness you might have at the implication you're leaving in the air.

To your great relief, Maia allows herself a slight smile. This time, there's only the faintest trace of colour coming into her face. "I understand," she says.

It's a thought that buoys you onward for the rest of a busy day.

Article:

Ambraea has been summoned back to the Imperial City in order to speak to her mother in person, a rare enough occurrence to make this a source of both dread and excitement. It will also be an opportunity to see her father, as well as others who she hasn't seen in three years.

Mundane means would be far too slow to carry her all the way to Scarlet Prefecture and back. Fortunately, Ambraea has other means at her disposal, and is plainly being expected to make use of them. How is Ambraea traveling?

[ ] A favour from Diamond-Cut Perfection

On the metaphorical wings of a lesser elemental dragon, the distance shrinks considerably. Perfection will be available to make the trip, and will be able to get Ambraea and Peony there safely and in a timely manner. Needless to say, this will be an extremely ostentatious method of travel, and Perfection will ask for a reasonable favour in return afterward.

[ ] A favour from V'neef Darting Fish

Ordinarily, it would be slightly outrageous to ask an acquaintance to take you and your handmaiden all the way to Scarlet Prefecture on such short notice. However, Darting Fish owes Ambraea, and would not resent the request, as inconvenient as it might be. Traveling in Darting Fish's small, sorcerously-summoned ship will be far faster than any mundane means of travel and will allow you to arrive relatively quietly, although it will be considerably slower than flying, and leave you open to the vagaries of sea voyages.

[ ] A summoned lesser elemental

Ambraea can simply summon a flying elemental to carry her and Peony. This spirit will be obedient, but newly formed and not particularly intelligent. She will arrive in a timely enough manner, but the creature's unpredictable nature will cause unforeseen problems on the way, and the trip will be less comfortable than what Perfection might offer.