Chapter 1088: An Enthusiastic Morning

The residence hall greeted Lucavion with the peculiar silence that belonged only to hours when students had yet to remember they were students.

The lamps along the walls had begun dimming as morning crept through the eastern windows, leaving strips of blue-gray light across the stone. Somewhere below, a servant pushed a cart through the lower passage, and porcelain rattled softly before the sound disappeared beneath the stairwell. Water ran behind one of the bathing-room walls. Farther down, a door opened for several breaths before whoever stood behind it apparently reconsidered the wisdom of beginning the day and closed it again.

Lucavion could sympathize.

His body had started giving a more detailed report of Chamber 3C now that Selenne was gone and he had nothing distracting him from it. Several meridians carried a deep soreness, his shoulders felt heavier than they should have, and the strange pressure around his core had settled into the familiar quiet that followed excessive exertion. None of it demanded immediate attention, though the idea of lying down had become considerably more attractive during the walk back.

Selenne’s advice returned to him anyway.

Eat. Rest. Read.

Preferably before he attempted to injure himself while rediscovering another principle magicians had already spent generations naming.

His mouth curved.

’She really has become demanding.’

He turned into the corridor leading toward the commoner residential wing, already deciding whether food or sleep deserved priority, when something near the edge of his perception shifted.

His pace remained steady, though his attention slid ahead.

Someone was approaching from beyond the next archway.

The presence carried little weight against his senses. Mana rested close to the body, breathing remained measured, and each footstep met the stone lightly enough that the corridor absorbed most of the sound. There was no active concealment woven around the figure. Whoever approached simply possessed the strange habit of moving through a place without asking the place to acknowledge her.

Lucavion knew who it was before she crossed beneath the arch.

"Morning."

Several seconds passed.

"...Morning."

Elayne Cors emerged with her cloak gathered around her shoulders.

Her silver-gray eyes reached him immediately. She slowed, looked at him, and then glanced briefly toward the corridor behind herself as though checking whether he might have been greeting someone else.

There was nobody there.

Her gaze returned to him.

"I wasn’t..." She stopped, then frowned slightly. "Hiding."

Lucavion smiled.

"I know."

The answer appeared to trouble her more than accusation would have.

Her brows tightened while she resumed walking, and Lucavion fell into step beside her. Elayne rarely made herself visually expressive, yet the tiny delay before her next breath told him enough.

She really was annoyed.

’Still bothers her.’

He understood why.

Elayne’s ability to disappear from attention was partly magical, but much of it existed even before she deliberately used anything. Her posture avoided unnecessary motion. Her clothes barely shifted when she walked. Her mana lacked the small unconscious fluctuations most young Awakened released while tired, distracted, or irritated.

She didn’t vanish.

People simply forgot to continue noticing her.

Lucavion had spent too many years surviving through precisely the opposite habit. On a battlefield, the person who belonged too perfectly to the background often mattered more than the one shouting in front of you.

Elayne looked sideways.

"You keep..."

She stopped.

"Looking?"

"At me."

"That tends to happen during conversation."

"We aren’t really..."

Her expression tightened again as she searched for the word.

"Talking."

Lucavion considered that.

"An excellent point."

She looked away.

He almost laughed, though this time he kept it behind his teeth.

Two crescent knives remained beneath her cloak, both positioned for easy access rather than storage. Dark powder clung near the lower edge of one boot, and a faint streak of the same substance marked her right cuff.

Lucavion’s gaze settled there.

West Arena.

He remembered the powder rather well.

"Weaponship?"

Elayne glanced down at herself, then at him.

"How?"

He tapped his own sleeve.

"The arena dust."

Her eyes dropped toward the stain. After a moment, she rubbed at it with two fingers as if personally offended that evidence had followed her home.

"The West Arena uses it beneath the upper practice ground," Lucavion explained. "Helps the formations disperse impact."

"You remembered that?"

"I became acquainted with the floor."

Elayne’s steps slowed.

"What?"

Lucavion looked ahead innocently.

"You were fighting the instructor?"

"Yes."

Her eyes lingered on him.

He could almost see the thought moving behind them. She knew his Weaponship Evaluation had been strange, though she had never heard the details. Saying he had become acquainted with the ground naturally suggested a rather different conclusion than the one his examination had actually reached.

She opened her mouth.

Stopped.

Then finally chose, "Did you... lose?"

Lucavion turned toward her.

There was genuine uncertainty in her face now.

A rare thing.

"No."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"How much did you win?"

His smile widened.

"That is a considerably better question."

Elayne immediately regretted asking it.

He allowed her to remain curious.

Some things were more entertaining when left alone.

They descended the stairs together while dawn strengthened beyond the tall windows. The first gold had begun touching the higher Academy roofs, though the courtyards below remained washed in gray. Two servants crossed between buildings with baskets tucked beneath their arms, and one student hurried through the gardens while fastening the last clasp of his uniform.

Lucavion looked again at the dust on Elayne’s boot.

"What time?"

She understood without needing the examination named again.

"Five-thirty."

"Cruel."

Elayne turned toward him.

She waited.

And continued waiting.

Lucavion eventually looked back.

"What?"

"Yours was three."

He nodded gravely.

"Which is why I recognize cruelty so well."

Her stare remained upon him for another moment before she faced forward.

"I shouldn’t have said anything."

"You’re learning."

That earned him another small tightening around her eyes.

Much better.

They continued through the lower passage, and the waking sounds of the residence slowly grew around them. Pipes hummed inside the walls as bathing chambers activated. Somewhere above, furniture scraped across a floor. A warm smell had begun drifting from the dining wing, faint but recognizable enough to remind Lucavion that Selenne had ordered, advised, or aggressively suggested that he eat.

Elayne’s right hand moved when she adjusted her cloak.

A thin scrape crossed one knuckle.

Lucavion noticed it immediately.

"Barrier?"

Her eyes flickered toward him.

He pointed toward the wound.

Elayne stared at her hand for a moment.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"I..." She paused, visibly considering several answers. "Went too far."

Lucavion’s brows rose.

"With the attack?"

"With me."

He understood a second later.

"You misjudged your distance."

Elayne’s mouth tightened.

"Yes."

There was something almost offended in how reluctantly the word came out.

Lucavion smiled.

She caught it.

"Don’t."

"I haven’t done anything."

"You’re..." Her eyes narrowed while she searched again. "Enjoying it."

"That isn’t illegal."

"It should be."

The answer came so unexpectedly that Lucavion laughed.

Elayne stiffened slightly at the sound, almost as though she had surprised herself too.

There.

That was different.

Most people who spoke with him eventually learned to anticipate the rhythm of his provocations and either fought back or became increasingly frustrated. Elayne rarely did either. She spent too much time choosing what she wanted to say, and sometimes the words arrived crooked enough to reveal more of her than a polished answer ever would.

Lucavion found that far more interesting than verbal sparring.

’She thinks too long before giving people anything.’

Perhaps because anything given could be used.

He understood that habit better than she probably realized.

"How did you do?"

"I passed."

Lucavion waited.

Elayne kept walking.

He said nothing.

Several steps later, she glanced at him.

He continued looking ahead.

Her brows drew together.

"You want the grade."

"I didn’t ask."

"You were going to."

"Was I?"

She studied him, caught between irritation and uncertainty.

Then, with a faint sigh, she said, "High distinction."

Lucavion nodded.

"That makes more sense."

"What does?"

"You."

Her expression changed slightly.

He didn’t elaborate.

Neither did she ask.

The quiet that followed sat more comfortably between them than the earlier silence. Lucavion let it remain while they crossed another junction, and for a short while the only sound came from the Academy waking beyond the windows.

Elayne broke it first.

"We have Tier II."

Lucavion’s mood immediately worsened.

She noticed.

Of course she did.

"At nine," she added.

"I remember."

"You look like you forgot."

"I was choosing peace."

She watched him for a moment.

Then her eyes narrowed very slightly.

"You actually care?"

Lucavion placed one hand against his chest.

"Elayne."

"I mean..."

She hesitated.

There it was again.

Her gaze shifted toward the floor, then back.

"The written one. You don’t seem... academic."

Lucavion stared at her.

She seemed to realize how that had sounded.

"I meant..."

"Please continue."

"No."

"Cowardice."

"You complain about the questions."

"I complain about bad questions."

"You leave answers empty."

"When I don’t know them."

"And the terminology."

Lucavion raised a finger.

"The terminology deserves criticism."

"So..."

She paused again.

"You care?"

This time the question sounded genuine.

Lucavion’s smile faded into something quieter.

"Yes."

Elayne waited.

He knew she expected more, though she would probably stand there until tomorrow before asking directly.

Tier II did interest him.

More now than it would have yesterday.

A few hours earlier, spell structures had existed in his mind largely as things he translated into movement, pressure, failure points, and consequence. Chamber 3C had added something else.

Conditions.

Mana carrying a portion of intent beyond direct control.

A structure continuing to function while his attention moved elsewhere.

Formal magical language still annoyed him, and several centuries of scholarly education remained stubbornly absent from his head, but he wanted to see whether that small shift changed how he understood the questions placed in front of him.

’If I can actually recognize it on paper...’

Then the lesson had followed him out of the chamber.

Lucavion looked toward the pale light beyond the windows.

’Maybe Selenne was right.’

An unpleasant possibility.

Elayne was still watching.

"Something happened?"

"This morning?"

She nodded.

Lucavion considered explaining.

Then he smiled.

"I learned that magicians may occasionally know useful things."

Her face remained still.

"That sounds obvious."

"To you, perhaps."

She looked at him for several breaths.

"You’re strange."

"Now that was unprovoked."

"It wasn’t an insult."

"Even worse."

Her mouth moved faintly, though whether she almost smiled or merely reconsidered speaking remained difficult to tell.

They were nearing the split between their corridors when Elayne’s pace slowed.

"This was my only one."

Lucavion understood immediately.

"The time?"

She nodded.

"The others had... things too."

"I know."

Her gaze rested upon him.

The meaning behind it required little interpretation.

Lucavion had known from the beginning that the commoner entrants would receive pressure. Their admission alone challenged an institution whose privileges had belonged primarily to noble families for generations, and he had already seen one version of what followed in the novel.

The faces changed.

The methods shifted.

The discomfort remained.

His choices around Lucien had merely sharpened some of it.

Elayne took several breaths before speaking.

"You made it..."

Her expression tightened.

"Louder."

Lucavion turned toward her.

Of all the words she could have chosen, that one was strangely accurate.

He smiled.

"Yes."

Elayne’s eyes narrowed.

"You like that answer?"

"I like your word."

"That isn’t..."

She stopped, visibly irritated with herself now.

Lucavion waited.

Elayne eventually abandoned whatever sentence she had wanted.

"You made it worse."

"There it is."

Her stare sharpened.

Lucavion’s amusement softened.

She had every right to feel annoyed. He had chosen his own confrontations while the effects spread beyond him, and pretending otherwise would have been convenient rather than truthful.

Yet the conclusion itself had already been settled.

He knew resistance would come before he pushed Lucien.

He knew it when he rejected the factions attempting to make the five commoners useful, controllable symbols.

Change that left every comfortable person comfortable rarely changed much at all.

The five had entered the Academy because someone had finally forced open a door that had remained closed for generations.

Naturally, some people wanted fingers caught in the hinges.

’We knew that when we walked through.’

Lucavion looked at her.

"I expected it."

Elayne remained quiet.

"And still?"

"Yes."

Her gaze stayed on him for several seconds.

Then she exhaled.

"You’re difficult."

"That’s gentler than irritating."

"I meant worse."

Lucavion laughed softly.

They reached the corridor split.

Elayne adjusted her cloak, then glanced toward the direction of her room.

"Sleep."

"You too?"

She looked back.

"What?"

"Selenne said the same thing."

"Selenne? Magister Selenne?"

"Any other Selenne?"

"...."

Clearly, she was bothered by the way he addressed the magister, but she didn’t pick on it.

"Magister Selenne’s words..."

Elayne considered that.

"She was right."

Lucavion sighed.

"Everyone is becoming remarkably bold this morning."

"You have an exam."

"Yes."

"You’ll need your brain."

He looked offended.

"I usually bring it."

Elayne’s eyes shifted toward him.

She seemed to search for an answer, found one, reconsidered it, and finally gave up.

"...Good."

Lucavion smiled.

That was somehow funnier.

She turned toward her corridor.

After several steps, she slowed and looked back.

"If they do more..."

The sentence died there.

Lucavion understood.

"If it becomes serious, tell me."

Elayne nodded.

Relief barely touched her expression, though he caught it anyway.

Then she left.

Within several steps, her presence began blending back into the quiet of the residence, until the faint motion of her cloak disappeared beyond the corner.

Lucavion watched the empty corridor for a moment.

’Still see you.’

He kept that one to himself.

He had irritated her enough for one morning.

By the time he reached his own room, the exhaustion from Chamber 3C had returned with far greater insistence. His shoulders had grown heavy, his meridians still ached beneath the skin, and the smell drifting from the dining wing had placed food into increasingly serious competition with his bed.

He opened the door.

A pair of golden eyes immediately found him.

Vitaliara lifted her head from the blankets, white ears twitching as she studied him from across the room.

[You took your time.]

Lucavion closed the door behind himself and leaned against it for a breath.

His mouth curved.

’And good morning to you too.’