Scribe of Thoth

Of Blood and Magic

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November 9th - Max Has A Stroke And Tries His Hand At Friendliness

_{Collab with @Obscene Symphony}

Damn, it got cold quickly.

Aaron pulled the collar of his jacket up against the wind as he stepped off the bus, shoving his free hand deeper into his pocket as he half-walked half-jogged the short distance from the bus stop to the bakery. It was hardly a far way—a minute at most—but that dampness in the air was brutal, and by the time he stepped in the bakery door, he was chilled to the bone. It was certainly a good thing this cold front waited a day to arrive; he could only imagine how much more miserable the Dark Eyes exam would have been in this cold.

The bakery, thankfully, was warm and bright, although he could have stood the heady smell of fresh-baked sweets to be a bit fainter. An occupational hazard, he supposed; one could only start their day with decadent pastries so many times before they started smelling sickly. But it was that very purpose that sent him here: a new order sheet for the next month’s breakfasts. It was flagrant busywork, seeing as every other month’s orders had been made by Eloise by phone, but with the mood Varis was in tonight, Aaron was less insulted than normal at getting kicked out for the morning.

The bakery staff was friendly, and it was a simple enough thing to submit the order, even if it did draw a strange look from the man who came out from the back to collect the form. Aaron paid no mind—hell, he hardly even saw the looks people threw at him anymore—but he did hesitate to step back out into the cold just yet. This was technically his last task of the night, and he was under unspoken orders to get out of Varis’ sight until curfew, so he had some time to kill. And, as luck would have it, it was at that moment that his phone buzzed, and with it a blessed excuse to loiter inside the bakery a few minutes longer.

> Where’re you at rn

Aaron squinted at the text for a moment, making sure the message and its sender were indeed correct. Did Eris flip Max that fast? What on earth did he want?

> The bakery in town, why?

> Perfect, less prying ears, stay right there for like 10 mins

> Um, okay?

Max stopped responding after that, making his way into town at record speed given the lethargy the mage usually acted with. He stepped off the bus virtually unrecognizable, hoodie pulled up over his head and an elaborate black fur cloak that reeked of Eris Samael draped over his body like a creepy overly-fashionable cultist from a bad movie.

He ducked into the bakery with a huff, pulling the folds of his uncharacteristic outfit choice tighter for warmth before bothering to acknowledge Aaron. “Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth. You seem like a boring black coffee type.”

Aaron had settled into a small table in the window of the bakery as he waited, though he just about gasped when the bizarre person in the cape who burst through the door turned out to be Max. Not only did he make it in record time—certainly he must have been nearby, there was no way Max moved from his dorm to town that fast—but given the cape, Aaron would have expected the newcomer to be Salem.

“...I am, actually,” he replied flatly, forgoing his usual politesse to look Max up and down. He gestured at the empty chair across from him, though his suspicious gaze didn’t leave Max. “What on earth is that?”

Max scowled at the question, no matter how deserved it was or how much he’d been expecting it. He opted not to respond until he’d sat down.

“I can only fit so many layers under this armor and this was the warmest thing in Eris’ closet. Okay, second warmest, but if you think this is fucking ridiculous, you should see the collar on the other one,” The mage grumbled before looking over toward the counter. “This place sells warm drinks, right?”

Aaron didn’t bother hiding the snicker that escaped him, but nodded. “Yeah. Never had them, though.”

Max stood up wordlessly and walked over to the counter to stare at the menu for a few moments as the cashier looked at him expectantly. Eventually he shrugged and muttered, “Hot chocolate, I guess.”

He promptly returned to Aaron’s table, not bothering to wait for the drink to be made. For the moment, at least, he was a man on a mission. After that, he was out of ideas on how to keep Aaron distracted. Maybe he could stretch this out for an ungodly amount of time if he played his cards right.

“So, as you might’ve guessed, I need to talk to you.” The mage left his question unasked for now, mostly because he was pretty sure he’d have to go fetch his drink halfway through Aaron’s answer anyway. If he even gave one—didn’t Eris say this lady died centuries ago?

Aaron was almost too perplexed by the sight before him to come back with the obvious response, but he managed something similar. “Either that or your dorm was on fire,” he replied dryly, though he couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this about yesterday?”

“If my dorm was on fire I’d be too busy trying to throw Eris into the middle to call you,” Max huffed, then managed the bare minimum of what could be called a grin. Once again, he left Aaron conversationally blueballed as he stood up to grab his drink off the counter. He even had the audacity to make obnoxious sipping noises once he sat back down, as if he were savoring the drink like a pretentious sommelier.

“Yes, this is about yesterday. Sort of. Who’s Greta?” He asked flatly, contrasting the sudden urgency with which he’d rushed over with his usual apathy. Technically, this wasn’t even his question, so he had no reason to be engaged. “One of Nox’s training partners or something, I think? I don’t know her full name.”

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Aaron sat back in his chair for a moment, eyes on the table as he put his thoughts in order. “That would be Greta Bordeleaux, I imagine. She was more like Nox’s mentor a few decades after she was Embraced. She was killed only a few years before the Treaty,” he explained, looking back up. “I don’t know if you remember Sir Bordeleaux when he was here, but she’s one of his ancestors. Big name in the pre-Treaty history of the royal family.” He looked puzzled. “Why? I thought you hated the royal family and everyone who had anything to do with it.”

This time, Max had to fight back a real grin. He was tempted to just ask this over the phone last night, but there was something about texting that made it bad for asking these big questions. Aaron would have time to think; to backspace and edit and put his thoughts in order. The way he looked down just now would’ve been lost on Max. But was he hiding something or just trying to remember some boring history lesson from his youth?

“I’m personally not particularly interested, but Eris told me to go look her up last night. I figured asking you was easier than reading some propaganda piece from the library.” He rolled his eyes. Aaron was probably as much of a propaganda piece as the books would’ve been, perhaps even more so, but this was still less effort. He could double check anything the Retriever said later anyway. Plus, there was always the chance he might slip up.

“Speaking of propaganda pieces, you happen to know anything about her that wouldn’t be in one of those books?”

Aaron gave Max a deadpan look. If he gave out castle secrets that easily, he’d have probably been executed for treason when he was sixteen and some Countess or Duchess or whoever she was thought showing a little more cleavage would make him say something he shouldn’t. Not that he knew anything all that particularly scandalous about Greta; all he knew beyond what was public knowledge and what the aristocracy already whispered about were some details and a few old family rumours. Still, they involved a few things that Princess Ryner would probably have preferred not see the light of the moon for the moment.

Ugh. Not that he was particularly thrilled to have that cross his mind. With all that garbage yesterday and having been up since five with Malek, that was the last thing he needed to be worrying about. Although, come to think of it…

“None of that would be all that useful without the basics,” he commented, laying his hands on the table and spinning his ring. Malek did have a point: he did not belong to Ryner anymore. She should know as well as any that whatever secrets he knew were as good as gone. But if he really was going to be a Sinnenodel, he wasn’t about to do anything for free.

He glanced at the ceiling for a second, winding back the story he remembered from his lessons. Only now that he really thought about it did he realize just how entangled it had gotten with the bedtime stories his aunt Clara used to tell; it actually took him a moment to unravel fact from fiction, though he couldn’t quite shake a nagging feeling that there was something he was misremembering.

Whatever; it wasn’t like Max would be able to tell the difference. “Greta actually came from some small human village, back before any of the noble families were really established. Back then, Geoffrey Noila was just one lord of many, and they practically declared war on each other every other night. They had this tactic of Embracing whole towns and then setting the newborns on each other like dogs; they were all starving and crazy and would kill anything in front of them, so they were a cheap, effective tool for things like siege assaults, field battles, anytime you needed a lot of attacking power and weren’t worried about losses. Anyway,” Aaron had to tear himself away or he’d be talking military theory all night, “Geoffrey ended up personally killing the attacking lord, but rather than execute the newborns, he offered them a place in his forces.”

Even if Max was planning something—though he wasn’t quite sure what just yet—it was clear in his face that Aaron was happy for a chance to talk about a subject he’d studied so extensively. “Now, Greta rose up through the ranks all the way to Knight Commander—basically the top of the chain of command under Geoffrey—in a century, which was totally unheard of for an Embraced; those higher ranks were usually only attainable to vampires who’d been personally turned by either Geoffrey or one of his offspring, but she had this uncanny ability to turn a hopeless situation into a decisive victory. Which is exactly what she did.” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “What actually earned her her title was a battle called the Battle of Althisa, which was a small town that doesn’t even exist anymore, but at the time was a neutral town that formed a vulnerability in Geoffrey’s border. Lord Pieron had mounted an offense on it, and Greta routed them, sealing off the border. That victory over Lord Pieron made Geoffrey the most powerful lord of that time, and it’s likely that the Noilas’ entire rise to prominence hinged on that victory. It’s something the Bordeleaux family prides themselves on to this day.”

Max wasn’t sure what to make of that. Aaron had, obviously, dodged his question. Knowingly too, given how he worded it. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out the reason. Loyalty to the royal family would’ve been his first thought, but denying any such under the table actions happened or even denying having knowledge of them would’ve been his go-to for that. Right? So was this actually a diversion or just necessary context? Max honestly hadn’t figured he’d fold that quickly, if so. That, or the Retriever was just aching to go off on a masturbatory tirade about how great the Noilas are.

Either way, he tentatively decided he hated this Greta lady. Vampiric barbarity was a nice touch to the story, though Aaron didn’t have to look so fond when he was describing mass executions, but the real kicker was that this bitch was apparently the crux of the Noilan war machine. He really hoped the end of this story had a touching moment where Landar melted her down into a puddle and pissed in it.

“So what was her trick? She some kind of master tactician? Charismatic general? Just impossible to kill?” He doubted that last one, given she was dead.

“That's the thing; there wasn't just one,” Aaron replied, an air of wonder in his voice. “It's like she had it all; she was a monster on the battlefield, knew strategy like no one else—I think she actually invented some of the tactics used today—knew how to take advantage of every little weakness in the enemy— I can't even list it all. She was a perfect storm, like she was born for war. But there was one more thing that I think really set the scales in her favour.”

He shifted in his seat, reigning himself in a touch. “Now obviously her being Embraced wasn't unique; every vampire back then was Embraced, the magical advancements to produce born vampires didn't come until a while after the Treaty. But the way the Embraced work is that since their lives are so much longer than they were originally meant to be, over the centuries they gradually ‘forget’ what it was like to be human. They lose their capacity to empathize and understand human reasoning. But Greta didn't.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “No one knows how, but she never really lost her humanity. She developed the ruthlessness and the cunning that older vampires get, sure, but they say she could ‘switch’ between a vampiric and human mindset like that.” He snapped his fingers, producing a small flash.

“Now, that's generally considered a weakness. Humans are inferior, after all. But I think that was her secret.” He tapped the table. “She would have been commanding armies of freshly turned vampires. They would have been confused, probably scared, and starved out of their minds. They were effectively humans with stronger bodies and powers and limitations they didn't really understand. I think Greta’s capability to empathize with them and relate to them on a human level is what made her so successful. I don't think Geoffrey or Lord Pieron or any of the older vampires of the time could have commanded an army as well as she could.”

Oh, big deal, she was a better liar than the other sociopaths around her. Max would’ve dismissed the story as too corny if not for the fact that this was exactly the type of thing the Noilas wouldn’t have bothered making up to make the story sound nicer. Aaron was right, humanity was a weakness to them. Question was, what the hell did this have to do with Varis? He was tempted to ask if she had any connections to the Sinnenodels, but if he played his hand too early, Aaron might start changing his story to omit the details he was looking for. Fuck, Max didn’t even know what details he was looking for. He didn’t even have an idea of where the connection would even be!

“Alright, she secures the border. Then what?” Max made a beckoning gesture with his hand to signal for Aaron to continue as he swallowed enough of his drink to hurt his tongue. Fuck this weather. Fuck nighttime too.

Aaron chuckled. “Well, so far she’s secured the Noilas’ path to the throne, but she gets even more intimately involved in that. See, most people actually learn about Greta first not as the Knight Commander, but as Princess Nox’s mentor.” He hooked one arm around the back of his chair, gesturing vaguely. “You’d never guess it, but Princess Nox had a very rough transition after her Embrace. After Her Majesty—who would have been Princess Anastasia at the time—Embraced her, she sort of clung onto Princess Ryner, which was normal for new fledgelings, but continued for decades after she should have outgrown it. Since Greta was the one the family turned to to make a victory out of an impossible situation, they tasked her with turning Princess Nox into someone fit to join the family, or dispose of her otherwise.”

He grinned. “Luckily, Greta did as she always did, and she ended up turning Princess Nox into the force of nature she is today—with the help of that pesky humanity issue she had, specifically. They grew close throughout the process, and by the end of it they were inseparable, both on and off the battlefield.” He shook his head, some amusement showing through. “It’s kind of unclear whether their affair was supposed to be a secret or not, but if so, it was one of the most poorly kept in history.”

Yep, Max definitely hated Greta now. If she was inspiring little Noxes to run around, he couldn’t imagine she’d have been a very likeable person, empathetic or otherwise. Especially if she was fooling around with that little psychopath. Apparently the lover angle wasn’t too secret if even Eris was in the loop about it, though he could’ve just picked that up from Varis. But… where would Varis have picked it up if it was a secret? On top of that, it was a little weird to think that the royal family wasn’t actually related at all. Even weirder to consider they were people once. Was that where Ryner’s eccentricities about mages came from?

This was informative, if not in a way Eris would be particularly happy with. Or maybe he would; Max had absolutely no idea what he was looking for here aside from a way to connect her to the Sinnenodels. At this rate, the only obstacle to keeping Aaron here all night was Max’s own patience.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s perfect at everything, blah blah blah. How’d she end up dead? Step on the wrong person’s toes?” Maybe a Sinnenodel backstabbed her? That still had nothing to do with Varis, but it was a start.

Aaron sighed. Yeah, Max was doing this for Eris, but couldn’t he at least pretend not to hate every second of it like the mages of every other respectable vampire did? “Well, after Greta and Princess Nox founded family Bordeleaux as Nox’s honour guard for an extra layer of security against the mounting threat of early mages and lycans—that’s slightly relevant, by the way—she was killed on a scouting trip looking for lycans outside some nearby village. Only a few years before the formation of the Treaty, too. It’s really a shame. Princess Nox executed that whole village on the spot once the fighting was over, and dug in her heels against the Treaty after that.” He shrugged and sat back expectantly, arms crossed.

Max actually snorted at that. “For real? All this build up and she gets picked off just like that? Lame. Who did it? Us or the wolves?” He really wanted that petty mage victory here. Plus, it would explain why Nox was such a hardass—she was still assblasted over mages outplaying her little date hundreds of years ago. If it was lycans, then he guessed she was just a bitch for no reason.

“Oh, the mages, no question. Lycans were too stupid for that sort of organization,” Aaron wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Not to mention, they couldn’t use magic. That’s why Nox took out her frustrations on that village. Of course, moon only knows if they were involved at all; it didn’t really matter.” He shook his head. “But she did die with a bit more glory than just being ‘picked off’, I suppose. Nox would have absolutely been killed had Greta not put herself in the path of the fire at the last second to save her. I think there are a couple of drama films based on it.”

Aaron gestured to the table, letting out a breath after all that talking. “But yeah, there’s the story. I think Princess Nox actually still has a grudge against fire mages after all this time; fire magic is the very first tactic Bordeleaux vampires learn to deal with, and she’s really never liked my mother. Or at least, less so than she likes the rest of us, if you could call it that.” He frowned.

Max believed the bit about the movies—that sounded like exactly the type of sentimental crap Eris would have his hands all over. But unless said fire mage ended up getting turned into a vampire and became a Sinnenodel, that didn’t tell him anything of value.

“Wow, I must be good at this,” He snickered, “My first thought when you were telling this story was ‘I bet she gets melted’.” Getting Aaron talking about the war would probably kill time, but he doubted he’d get much more than commentary on her military achievements. He didn’t have much choice, then.

The metal mage let out a final hint of a chuckle before flattening his expression. “Given I have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking for here and the context of what happened yesterday, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and ask the question I don’t think you want me to. What, if anything, does Greta Bordeleaux have to do with the Sinnenodels?”

Aaron gave Max a questioning look. Well, more like a “couple of questions” look. Namely, why on earth Eris wanted to find a connection between Greta Bordeleaux and the Noilas’ chief rival, how on earth that related to what happened yesterday, and why on earth he thought that a Sinnenodel mage would volunteer that information.

“None whatsoever,” he replied matter-of-factly. “She was fiercely loyal to the Noilas, and the Sinnenodels were their enemy in her time. She would never have crossed paths with them outside of the battlefield, and they were never big fighters.” He leveled Max with a look. “And how exactly does a connection between Greta Bordeleaux and the Sinnenodels have anything to do with anything that happened yesterday? Did Eris send you on a fact-finding mission just to force you to talk to somebody?” Honestly, that probably wouldn’t even be that far-fetched of a possibility.

Figures there wasn’t anything there. They were enemies, at least, so maybe there was some behind-the-scenes foul play afoot, but still nothing that had anything to do with Varis. Max shrugged innocently at Aaron’s prying look. He hadn’t asked anything particularly damning yet, he was just guessing at Eris’ intentions. For all he knew—or rather, for all Aaron knew that he knew, he could be completely wrong here.

“If Eris wanted to force me to talk to you, he would’ve said it. I came here on my own, remember? He just told me to look up somebody named Greta. As for yesterday; you know I got Eris, right? And you got me, and I’m sure you got an earful when you got home about Count Cinnamon getting you. So who does that leave for Eris?” Max sipped his drink, as if pausing to give Aaron time to consider his question. “I don’t know what he wants with this lady; might’ve even been coincidental, but he didn’t bring her up until after that exam.”

“He told you the name Greta came up in his exam?” Aaron all but squinted at the mage across the table. He’d been hoping he could forget all about the exam as soon as possible, but now that he had to consider it again, that blew through all his theories, and he’d be lying if he said he was happy about it.

He stopped in his tracks, though, when something much more immediately relevant came to mind. “Wait, why does Eris care? Those trials were nothing but a couple of mental mages trying to get a rise out of us. Who cares who said what? It’s over now.” That was valid. Aaron’s own worries about the things Max’s clone was spouting had been mostly dissuaded by his theory, and Varis only lorded it over his head to prove how much of a mistake it was to lie to him. None of it was relevant beyond the confines of the exam and Varis’ intimidation tactics; if clone-Varis did say anything about “Greta”, it was probably just something dredged out of his historical knowledge to confuse Eris.

Oh. Aaron didn’t know yet. That was… advantageous, he guessed. Not really, but it might’ve saved Max from further prying. The question now was whether to play along or come clean.

“Come to think of it, he didn’t mention the name until after he got home from your dorm, so he could’ve picked it up from the real Varis,” Max pretended to pontificate aloud. Technically not a lie, in any case. “I know you’re playing that little game in your head where you try to pick apart my motives and dance around what I really wanna know, but I’ll be perfectly honest here when I say I don’t even know what I wanna know here. I’m just anticipating possible angles he could be interested in. Fuck, this could all be for a movie or some inane shit like that.”

The only part of that that Aaron believed was that Max didn’t know what he was after. If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come in with his questions like a fur-cape-clad bull in a china shop. Still, Max’s total ignorance of how information passed between mages was jarring, and he had to remind himself that it wasn’t a lifelong mage he was dealing with in order for his approach to even begin to make sense.

He sighed. “Okay, I’m going to be honest with you for a minute here,” he decided. “Put aside all the little ties you’re making between me and the Noilas in your head for a minute, because none of those matter anymore. I’ve been acquisitioned by the Sinnenodels, the family that uses rumours and blackmail like cash, so when I hear someone asking for their connections…” he closed his eyes for a second, letting his hand fall back to the table and a wave of nausea pass over him before returning his gaze to Max with a bit more of a pleasant expression, offering the mage a small smile. “You can see how that could be a problem for me.”

He twined his hands together on the table, spinning his ring. “Now, luckily I can’t think of any reason why Varis would mention Greta when Eris went over last night, so I imagine it was probably something in his exam if he’s so interested in her now. Snooping into the Sinnenodels in any capacity is worrying but I’m going to choose to believe that this is all about Greta herself. In that case, there’s only one thing about her I can think of that you wouldn’t find in any history book or from asking any professor. But,” he looked Max in the eye, “if I’m going to tell you, I need something from you first.”

Max’s lips upturned into another poor excuse for a grin. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “That’s what I like to hear. This whole thing’s so much easier when we just skip all the pretense. I have no idea how you people keep this up all day; it’s exhausting.” He met Aaron’s gaze solidly and unperturbed. He doubted Aaron considered this an intimidation tactic, but if he did, Max didn’t want to be found lacking. He couldn’t think of a request Aaron could make that would be particularly bothersome for him, but he didn’t want the other mage under the impression he could just fuck him over either.

“So, name your price.”

Eugh, he wished Max would stop smiling like that. If he was trying to look approachable, it wasn’t working. Maybe the next topic for one of their little ‘playdates’ should be on faking a convincing smile.

Still, Aaron didn’t break eye contact, spinning his ring all the while. “I told you last night that Eris was acting weird. He caught me on his way to see Master, at the cul-de-sac gate. When I told him my Master would be happy to see him, he said ‘that would change by the end of the night’.” His voice was low; not a whisper, but low enough not to be overheard. “He never elaborated; just told me to ‘give myself time to mentally prepare’ before I got back and changed the subject. And now you tell me he came back and sent you to dig up information. So, what do you know about what happened between the two of them last night?”

Unlucky guess, Retriever.

Max lowered his voice to match Aaron, though his half-grin grew smugger and smugger by the second. “Honestly? Fucking nothing. Trust me, I asked. He mentioned getting Varis mad at Ryner and that I needed to look into the Greta thing. Despite how much he loves to hear himself talk, I’m not exactly his confidant.”

That still left the question of what exactly they did talk about. Eris was dodgy about it the whole time, and while misdirection made sense, Eris did specifically wave off discussion about the rest of the conversation before Max even brought it up. If the point was to get Varis tunnel-visioned on Ryner, why would Eris have said that Varis would be unhappy with him? He supposed the Sinnenodel could be the ‘shoot the messenger’ type, but otherwise he saw too many holes in this story.

All these secrets were annoying.

“Don’t suppose you’ll give me what I wanna know over a nonanswer like that though, huh?” Max fake-lamented. Some of the disappointment was real, but mostly at the fact that he’d have to continue this stupid information bartering game if Aaron didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.

Aaron frowned, shaking his head reluctantly. “Sadly no,” he apologized. “Truth be told, my Master could be considered to be in a perpetual state of ‘pissed off at Princess Ryner’, and that’s not even a secret. He’s already on a warpath for being forced to participate in the exam, and I expect Eris already knows that.”

He ran a hand down over his face, looking somewhere off out the window. This was one part of being a Sinnenodel that would take a long time to master. He had no idea how to tell if Max was lying. Sure, the smug grin might have been a tipoff, but it also might just be Max’s creepy way of responding when he finally got what he wanted, and he doubted Max was so loyal that he’d go so far as to lie to protect some secret of Eris’ from getting out. Unless it somehow endangered the both of them, but what could have come from the exam that was that damning?

Ugh, he asked himself that like he hadn’t been scrambling to cover his own ass last night for just that reason. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but he doubted Eris’ exam could have involved state secrets. Of course, he said—thought?—that like he knew how it worked, when he was just as hopelessly clueless about it as he had been when he’d touched the damn skull.

“And you’re telling me Eris made no mention at all of what he was planning before he left, beyond this thing with Princess Ryner?” he tried, “Because forgive me, but I find it hard to believe he’d give me more of a hint passing by in the street than he’d give his own mage in the privacy of his own dorm. Especially with the two of you so chummy during the exam.”

Max rolled his eyes as Aaron once again refused him. There was always the chance he actually didn’t know anything and was just seeing what he could get out of Max before he had to come clean, but assumed the Retriever was savvy enough to realize that trick would only work once, and wasting it on relatively unimportant information like what Eris was planning over a one-night argument was a waste.

“He didn’t tell me anything. That’s actually why we were fighting, he was acting like I was some moron that’d tell the whole city his master plans if he gave me even a fucking hint to work with,” He grumbled, dropping the smirk from his face, “I don’t think that jackass even has a plan, he was just covering his ass so he’d look like he had one.”

He, personally, had no objection to telling Aaron about the moon mark. He might’ve even recognized it, if Max was lucky. But until Eris had something to go on about that mark, the mage didn’t want to risk it. He really only had leave to talk about Greta, anyway, and he didn’t want to prove Eris right by actually spilling all his plans.

“So yeah, if you think I’m trying to cover his ass here, I’m not. I’m just trying to get this done in one conversation and avoid having to walk down to the library—there’s this summoner that—you know what, nevermind, you don’t wanna know.”

“Well, if I’m just your library replacement, then what I’ve already told you will be more than enough to satisfy Eris’ request,” Aaron reasoned. He didn’t know whether to believe Max or not; all he knew was that he could not come out on the losing end of this conversation. It was lucky that the information he was dangling in front of Max wasn’t anything that had anything to do with Varis, so he wasn’t gambling with the House’s money, but that didn’t do much to quiet Malek’s voice nagging in the back of his head. He also didn’t know how long he could bargain with Max before he just decided what he’d gotten so far was enough and leave, and even though that wasn’t technically a loss for him… oh, he didn’t know, it just felt like there was a transaction here that needed to be completed.

“Of course, in that case all you’re getting is the ‘propaganda piece’, but I’m sure that’ll give Eris enough to chew on for a while.”

Max had the strangest feeling he was being mocked here, somehow. He did want whatever Aaron was hiding, but he didn’t have any information he could volunteer that would be worth it. Not to mention the mere act of volunteering anything would make him look invested enough for Aaron to fuck him over.

He did have a point, though. If not for the need to distract Aaron, Max could walk here and now. Eris hadn’t been the one to bring up asking a Starag or anyone else of import for information, so clearly trivial history book knowledge was enough for him to work with at this point. He highly doubted sordid secrets about Greta had anything to do with Varis, given how perplexed Aaron had looked when he mentioned House Sinnenodel. Maybe ‘Aaron’s hiding something’ would be enough.

Max clicked his tongue, raising his hands off the table in a lazy gesture of mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I don’t have anything of value here and I have no insurance that what you’ll give me in return is valuable either.” His smug look returned briefly, “Tell you what. I’ll let you in on something you overlooked if you spill the beans. But you’re telling me what I wanna know first.”

Eris owed him for this. He could use Eris’ secrets as ammo all day long, but offering his own for something that leech assigned him to do was a debt, even if it was a secret Aaron quite possibly already knew but hadn’t realized yet. Plus, the thought that Max knew something about the information the Retriever already possessed that he didn’t was bound to bother anyone. If this didn’t work, he was quite literally out of hands to play.

Aaron outright laughed, shifting in his chair. “Sorry, I’m going to have to insist you ‘spill’ first. I’m not about to release something that’s never been heard outside castle walls for something I’ve ‘overlooked’ unless that thing is a bomb under the Sinnenodel dorm.”

Max quirked a brow curiously. “Never heard outside castle walls as in it’s a silly servant’s rumor or never heard outside castle walls as in people get beheaded for talking about it?”

“Would you consider ‘pretty stiffly contradicts the official narrative’ a happy medium?”

“Only on the condition that I’m not answering any follow-up questions based on what I’m gonna point out until after you’ve told me.” And he had the strangest feeling that there were going to be quite a few.

Aaron squinted at Max for a moment. Malek had made it clear that ‘overlooking’ things was something he seemed to make a habit of. If he’d overlooked something relevant to Eris’ little investigation into Greta and the Sinnenodels, well, he supposed he’d still be up information—namely that Eris was doing any investigating at all—but lacking something Varis would likely want to know. If Max’s little tip was garbage, he could rescind his offer and what, piss of the metal mage for a few nights? He did that by existing in his general vicinity already.

Besides, like he’d noted before: he wasn’t playing with the House’s money. And in this situation, that was actually a good thing.

“Deal.”

“Great. If this isn’t worth my while I’m gonna throw the espresso machine at you.” He was half kidding. Mostly because he wasn’t certain if it was nailed to the floor or not. “You keep making the same fatal assumption every time you talk about the exam—that those clones were just vapid little illusions that had nothing to do with the originals. You’re wrong. They’re a bit exaggerated, sure, and definitely not good at keeping their composure, but they don’t lie. Just like I don’t when you wave off anything Varis’ clone might’ve said as irrelevant and forget to ask me about it.”

Max flashed the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster. “Your turn.”

Aaron simply looked at Max for a moment, mulling that over. Now that was a change from their theorycrafting back in the woods. Back then, Max’s best guess about the nature of the exam was that the pairings were deliberate, and now he was claiming they didn’t lie? That was a little foreboding given the things Max’s own clone had told him, but it seemed too specific a bargaining chip to be something he made up on the spot.

“If those clones don’t lie, then you and I have a bit more discussing to do,” Aaron warned. “But fine.” Once more, he leaned forward on the table, lowering his voice even quieter than before.

“The generally accepted truth is that Princess Nox resisted the Treaty because the attack that killed Greta rekindled her hatred of mages. If you train under the Bordeleaux and are able to put two and two together, you can also infer that she resisted because of the mage ambassador’s—my grandfather’s—fire affinity.” He looked to the side; luckily, no one was paying them any attention. “But that’s not everything. Conventional wisdom in my family says that Nox also resisted to spite Ryner herself, because she blamed her for interfering in her campaign to avenge Greta’s death in order to facilitate Treaty proceedings. I’m inclined to think it’s true, given the two of them were always icy, and haven’t said a word to each other outside the public eye since my grandmother was young.”

Now that was interesting. It sounded like a weak secret to Max, given everybody had been gossiping so much lately about Ryner and Nox being at odds, but to know the reason behind it had to be a bargaining chip somewhere. That or he was exceptionally in the know and didn’t realize it. Either way, he’d already played his cards, and now he had to deal with the fallout.

“Okay. I’ll try to make sure Eris keeps his mouth shut on that one.” As much of a tool as Aaron was, Max didn’t necessarily want him catching any flak for helping him. Though, the sadistic part of him was tempted to let the little race traitor flounder if Eris ever decided to blurt out Noila secrets at a party.

He let out a groan after that, deflating. “Now let’s get your pestering out of the way, because I know you want to get all invasive on me.”

Aaron took a breath too, stretching out the tension in his chest he hadn’t even realized was building as he sat back once more. Letting castle secrets pass his lips—even just rumours and a confirmation of gossip—felt utterly foreign, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Dirty, certainly—he’d just literally sold information on the family that raised him—but also… freeing? He didn’t really like where that idea was headed, but he’d admit to feeling a little bit accomplished about his first real Sinnenodel-style transaction. Maybe if he went back to the dorm tonight with a head full of even semi-valuable information after only having been sent on a simple bakery run, he could get a start on getting back on Varis’ good side. Or, at least his less bad side. At the very least, he could show Malek that he wasn’t a totally lost cause.

“I’ll endeavour to be quick,” Aaron quipped, spinning his ring in his lap. “Though I’m sure you can guess what I’m going to ask. What did the clone say?”

Oh good, they were starting with Varis and not ‘uh Max, do you need a therapist maybe’.

“Unfortunately, Eris couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was talking about, so his repetition of it to me probably made even less sense. He said the clone didn’t know who or where he was and blabbed on about random historical events nonsensically. Except, like, he wasn’t treating them like history. Which is probably where Greta came up.” Max admitted. Another nonanswer, but it was all he had to work with.

“Honestly, I was almost ready to reconsider your theory on the clones being bullshit when Eris said that, but the others didn’t really follow that logic. By the way, if this really is the inner workings of Cinnamon’s head, I don’t think he’d take too kindly to you knowing it, so maybe think it over for a bit before blabbing in your report.”

Aaron was liable to think that was a desperate bid to not have the information leaked, but Max genuinely didn’t trust that Varis’ clone said all that with no connection to the real thing.

“So, it mostly just talked… gibberish?” That was interesting. Max’s warning might have sounded like a plea in disguise if he didn’t know Max was smart enough to realize whatever got to him would go straight to Varis, but even if it was genuine, Aaron was more relieved than worried. Talking in gibberish was precisely what Varis said his own clone had done when he brought up Yvaine; if they’d both been similarly programmed, maybe the proctors were just drawing from a pool of shared knowledge or something. It was strange that they’d be so garbled when the other two seemed coherent, but maybe it had something to do with Varis’ proximity to him? Way back at the start of the semester when they had dinner with the Lady, Varis had told him to stay close if he wanted to be safe from having his mind read; the second he stepped out of his vicinity he’d been invaded, and he was released only when Varis got close to him again. Back then, he’d thought it was some kind of honour code established between the Lady’s mind mages and her heir, but now Aaron was wondering if he had some protection mages put a strong ward on him to interrupt mental magic. Either way, this was good information to have.

“Do you remember if he mentioned anything specific? Any people, or dates, or specific events maybe? Any names?” he asked, fishing around for anything Max would be willing to give him.

Max considered for a moment. He had the suspicion that gibberish had a purpose to it, even if no one knew what it was yet; but if Aaron wanted to write it off again, Max wouldn’t stop him. As for the follow-up question… Eris hadn’t actually mentioned Greta until he returned from the Sinnenodel dorm. If there were names or events involved, Eris didn’t say.

“Are you asking as Aaron Starag or as Count Sinnenodel’s mage?” Max questioned coolly. He’d gladly theorize about what the fuck that exam was about all day, but not if his silly ideas were going to be weaponized by some leech.

Aaron frowned. Could he really separate the two? As far as he was concerned, being Aaron Starag meant being someone’s mage. Although… that wasn’t really true right now, was it? Until he got things ironed out with Ryner, there were still things he was keeping from Varis. Things, coincidentally, that Max’s information could possibly shed light on. He hated this duality, but apparently for the moment it would work in his favour.

“I suppose I’m asking as Aaron,” he conceded, surprising himself when he didn’t even feel like he was lying.

“Which—to be clear—means this conversation isn’t getting back to either of the vampires, right?” Max stressed. He didn’t really have anything to hide here, but watching his words in a situation he didn’t have to was stupid. Aaron could lie, of course, but Max would figure out whether that was his intent pretty soon if the other mage started biting his tongue too much.

Ugh, just when he got his hopes up. Aaron openly sighed, leaning his elbow on the table and letting his forehead fall into his hand. What could he do? He didn't have it in him to obfuscate further; he'd been pulled out of bed at five o’clock that evening to play mind games with one of Varis’ highest ranking mages, spent his night ruining both his wrist and his sanity writing lines, and just came out of a twice-damned negotiation when all he was tasked with doing was delivering an order sheet to a damn bakery. He was tired, he was drained, it was fucking cold outside, and frankly, he didn't have the energy to dance anymore.

Being a Sinnenodel was exhausting.

“Listen, my Master’s already pissed at me, and I doubt whatever you're worried about telling me is going to be of any interest to him anyway. I don't need to pass on anything that doesn't concern him, just…” he ran his hand down his face, glancing from the window to Max. Ugh, even in the reflection of the window he could see the circles under his eyes. He let out a breath, defeated. “Just, please don't ask me to lie.”

“I never asked that. And I’m pretty sure what I’m gonna tell you is gonna end up turning into another one of your history lessons anyway—but it’s about setting a precedent.” Max leaned forward, tapping the table with his index finger for effect, “I wanna know that you can set aside everything else and be real with me without us both trying to turn it into ammunition. That’s it.”

He didn’t even care if this got back to Varis. More names wouldn’t be any more suspicious than the Greta he’d already brought up. But if he could get Aaron talking, he could at the very least keep himself more prepared for whatever schemes Varis was planning, even if he left Eris out for the dogs.

Aaron let his weary gaze wander over Max’s face, searching—to the best of his limited ability—for some sign of insincerity. But, to his eyes, there didn’t seem to be any; in fact, Max seemed more genuine than Aaron could ever really recall seeing him. He didn’t usually put that much energy or emphasis into anything. Tonight really was a strange night.

“Your clone said something like that, you know,” he commented absently, letting his hand fall back to the table and straightening up. Have a conversation without trying to make arrows out of every word and falter? So long as Max wasn’t revealing his plans to overthrow the government or Eris’ scheme to assassinate Varis, Aaron would only be too happy to oblige. In any case, they were—almost, theoretically, kind of—on the same side. “Alright. I can do that.”

Max met Aaron’s scrutiny with some of his own, a narrow-eyed stare that slowly shifted into a simple look of confusion. What the fuck was Aaron looking for? If anything, he should be the cautious one here; everyone knew the Retriever didn’t even wipe his ass without asking Cinnamon for approval. But, he was ultimately satisfied with the answer he got. Maybe there was hope for the light mage yet.

“Told you they don’t lie,” He muttered before leaning back in his chair. Much easier to talk without all the tension and unvoiced animosity. “Now, Eris definitely got names but he didn’t mention the specifics. I was being honest when I said he never brought up Greta until after he got back from the Sinnenodel dorm. Which is why I assumed Varis mentioned it, if he bothered zeroing in on that name above the others. Before that, the only one he mentioned was Ramalama-whatever-the-fuck, the previous Marivaldi lord.”

“Ralmevik?” A bit of energy returned to Aaron at the mention, recalling with a slight twist of the gut what Varis had told him about his own clone. His brow furrowed. “But he was killed… oh, I think 50 years ago or so. And by Master’s own admission, he avoids the Marivaldis…”

He sounded like he was talking more to himself than Max, eyes falling to the table. He thought his clone was spouting off about the nightmares with talk of Yvaine, but would it hurt to talk about Ralmevik’s inclusion? The nightmares didn’t include him, but did them being mentioned together imply some sort of third connection? Or was it really just gibberish pulled out of his and Varis’ minds and mixed together?

Ugh, it was impossible to keep all these threads straight! Surely it wouldn’t hurt to clean his brain out a little? “Sorry, let me start from the beginning,” he corrected himself, eyes flicking back up to Max. “Master told me my clone was talking ‘gibberish’ too, and apparently it mentioned Ralmevik as well. I just can’t imagine why.”

That’s weird. Maybe one pair’s clones were coherent while the others were just babbling about irrelevant names. Though, two spells in one test seemed like a waste when the same tactic would’ve worked for both. Unless it was some kind of failsafe to prevent the nobles from getting tattled on, but even then, why would that protect Aaron from his own master?

“The shared link here is Varis,” Max proposed, “The clones are privy to their opponent’s thoughts. If Varis has these names in his head, both his clone and your clone would have access to them. So I can only assume he’s lying when he says he has nothing to do with the Marivaldis, or otherwise he wouldn’t have brought them up twice.”

Max made a dismissive gesture before continuing, “Let’s say he just wanted to get Eris confused with a bunch of needless historical facts. Why would Clone-Aaron repeat the exact same tactic on him? That’s literally his own trick.” He hardened his expression and pointed a finger loosely at the other mage; enough to be accusatory but not enough to look like he was in a courtroom. “I think you need to seriously consider that you’re being played as much as we are here.”

Aaron crossed his arms. There was a very significant fear in the back of his head that he’d just revealed something he shouldn’t have, but he tried not to panic just yet. Varis hadn’t said anything about keeping the events of the exam quiet, he reminded himself. The only things he wanted to keep under his hat were the crypt and Yvaine’s name, and those were for personal reasons. He was fine.

“Played by who, though? And why?” He questioned. “At its heart, that whole thing was just an exam. Princess Ryner has this… strange attachment to the idea of ‘bonding’ with your partner and ‘emotional honesty’ and other such—” he had to stop himself from saying ‘nonsense’, “—things, which was apparently the secondary purpose of the practical, but I don’t know why she’d sanction anything beyond that. This is a school, remember, and as far as I know, Her Highness does her best to keep politics out of here. She has no reason to mess with us beyond her little team-building games.”

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a helpless shrug. “I’m just as disturbed as you are by all of this, but, I don’t know… what if we’re just being paranoid? For all we know, she let the Mental students control the challenges and they just screwed something up.”

Max rolled his eyes. The Retriever was too well-trained, practically jumping to the defense of his masters before raising any suspicion their way.

“Not Ryner, stupid. Varis. Though I’d be shocked if she didn’t have a hand in this, even if by accident just because she wanted to make him squirm. The intent of that test was to throw all your dirty secrets in your partner’s face. At least, I’d assume. That still doesn’t explain the pairings, though. Maybe it was an introspective thing? See, looking at this from Ryner’s angle is too complex,” Max groaned, waving the thought off before taking another sip of his now mostly-cooled drink.

“But Varis? He’s a victim in her game, and everybody around him knows it. So why not lie about the clones speaking nonsense? I did it, there’s no reason he wouldn’t come up with the same idea. He tells his little pet about some nonsense gibberish, which of course you blab about, which then gets back to Eris, and now Eris thinks it was all gibberish too and he just drops the subject. Easy.” If Eris’ plan took into account that Aaron would tell Varis about Greta, there’s no reason Varis’ plan wouldn’t consider Max talking about Ralmevik. Unless he thought the metal mage was completely noncompliant with Eris; though that reputation suited him just fine. If he was lucky, that was a fatal mistake on Varis’ part, and if not, at least no one would be calling him a sycophant.

“But that doesn’t account for Eris’ experience,” Aaron reminded Max. “Master could lie about his experience with my clone, but that doesn’t explain why his own clone was speaking gibberish to Eris. They didn’t have any contact between the end of the trial and when Master and I debriefed, which was before Eris went over.” He shook his head. “Besides, not everything my clone did was out of the blue. There were a couple of things about its trial that did make sense, and I struggle to believe Master would lie if there was more he could have used to twist my arm.”

“Oh, I don’t think he lied about what happened in there. I think he lied when he said it was nonsense. It seems counterintuitive to mention his secret if he wanted to keep it hidden instead, but if we’re working under the assumption that this very conversation was going to happen, you’re misleading Eris when I report all this to him. And, if you did keep your mouth shut, you knowing is irrelevant, because you also think it’s just nonsense.”

Max scanned the room furtively for anyone who looked like they were listening in before leaning forward again to lower his voice. “There’s something else. I wrote it off at first, and I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this anyway, but Eris seems to think clone-Varis could use magic.” He paused to point accusingly at Aaron again, “Remember, this conversation never happened. Anyway, the clone apparently looked like it was overpowering the mind mage controlling it or something. Since clone-Eris had full control over the environment in my exam, I just assumed this was some background trick that was symbolizing his ego or some pretentious crap.”

Secret? What secret? Aaron almost rolled his eyes, glancing out the window as Max ran the length of his theory. More and more he was thinking they were both overthinking this; that the reference to his nightmares and the crypt were unfortunate tidbits plucked out of his mind at random in the midst of a botched cloning, and they were both losing sleep for nothing. That was, until he mentioned the clone using magic, and Aaron’s head snapped back to Max.

“And what makes you think it wasn’t?” he asked, careful not to jump to conclusions just yet. That didn’t necessarily mean anything; it was just nonsense upon nonsense for all they knew. “You don’t need to live with him to recognize that Master is preoccupied with control; a little exaggeration for shock value and it’s not a far leap to think they might have set it up that way deliberately,” he posited. “As for Eris, well…” a whole host of disturbing images washed through Aaron’s mind, and he closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head as a shiver passed through him. “Putting aside his more… personal dealings, he’s a businessman. I’m sure he prefers to have things well in hand, so being faced with a situation he couldn’t manipulate to his liking would probably bother him. Besides, I think seeing a vampire use ‘magic’ would put anyone on the back foot.”

Max nodded along at Aaron’s reasoning. He was halfway hoping the other mage had some light to shed on that bit, but it didn’t sound like a clue at all.

“I thought so too, I was just bringing it up in case you knew anything about it. Quite frankly, I don’t think Eris knows shit about magic anyway.” He leaned back to his former relaxed posture, once again looking around inconspicuously. “Either way, I’d be shocked if Cinnamon wasn’t hiding something here. One clone being weird, I can write off. Two clones? Both of them having to do with Varis? Nah. If you don’t wanna believe it, suit yourself, I’m just saying I think you should be careful.”

Aaron sighed wearily, giving a half-hearted shrug. “I’m a Sinnenodel. I have eggshells in my shoes.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, letting silence stretch between them for a moment as he absently looked around. He did think Max was barking up the wrong tree thinking Varis was somehow involved—after all, if it had been his choice, he’d never have taken part in the exam to begin with—but he supposed the warning came from a good place.

“But I do appreciate your concern,” he decided to voice as much, his tone more sincere. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

He checked his watch out of habit, eyebrows shooting up at the time. He’d been gone from the dorm for an hour! He checked his phone, surprised to find no text from Varis wondering where the hell he went. Though, more than likely Varis was savouring every second he was gone.

“Is Eris expecting you back? You were in quite a hurry to get here,” he asked Max, gesturing with his watch hand.

Fuck, the Retriever was getting antsy, and Max still had like two hours to kill. Walking around didn’t sound particularly appealing, given the temperature. Fuck, was he gonna have to get his ass kicked again under the guise of wanting to train?

“Nope, I was given explicit orders to get to fuck out until around six. No idea what he’s doing in there, and I don’t think I want to. In the meantime, though, that leaves me with fucking nothing to do.” So much for honesty, even if what he said was still half-true. Maybe he’d fill Aaron in tomorrow once he had the context. Or maybe not, given he couldn’t think of any scenario Aaron needed to be distracted for that could end with the loyal Sinnenodel dog not barking.

“Fair enough. I’m pretty sure the only reason I was sent down here was because Master was tired of looking at me.” Aaron let out a chuckle, more a rush of air than an actual laugh. A decently convenient coincidence, at least; gave him a chance to work on that little side project Eris gave him, even if the vampire’s digging made him a little unsure if he wanted to keep obeying his little ‘requests’.

Speaking of… “Oh, have you thought about your arcane major yet?” Aaron asked, “I realized I forgot to ask when we were talking about it.”

Small talk. That was good. He could… hopefully fill the time that way. Other than the vampires, though, Max had no idea what he and Aaron had in common enough to carry on an extended conversation.

“Honestly? I’ve been going back and forth,” Max admitted with a huff, “Transmutation sounds, like, superficially useful considering my affinity, but then I figured, hey, why not go evocation outright and skip the middleman?” Not to mention, with all the stuff he saw Feliks doing, he’d have so much versatility with whatever metal he was toting around already that he couldn’t see himself ever needing any other kinds on such short notice.

“Well, you’ve got time to figure it out. For mine, I had to submit all my documents a whole semester early,” Aaron commented airily. He spun his ring in his lap, thinking. “Transmutation sounds more versatile, if you want my opinion. Evocation is kind of a one-trick pony, but I think Transmutation covers a bunch of different sorts of spells. Though, whichever one you major in, you still have the choice to dabble in the other.”

As far as Max was concerned, that one trick was the only one relevant to his magic. What else was Eris going to have him do with it? Puppet the stage lights so he doesn’t have to hire a lighting team?

“What’s with the early due date? Cinnamon on your ass about that too?” Max questioned, brow raised curiously. Did the noble mages have stricter due dates? He couldn’t imagine why. Or did Aaron already have some arcane spells under his belt from the pompous magic tutors he probably had? It’d be annoying if not for the fact that Mister Perfect gets used as a literal stepping stool by a leech.

Aaron shook his head. “No, no he was actually pretty angry when I asked his permission to take it,” he corrected. “The Mental program just has stricter requirements than the others. The course load is very specific—I think I need four additional affinity courses and three advanced spell theory ones, I’d have to check the documents—so in order to plan out your courses and start on time, you need to get your application in with a full semester to spare. And then you need approval from professors and your partner and all this extra planning to cope with the program…” He ran a hand down his face. He was rambling, the early start to his night catching up to him. “I guess it’s supposed to be hell when you get past the Protection course and finally begin.”

Max just stared in sort-of-amusement-but-mostly-incredulity as Aaron listed everything. Who the hell would willingly choose to do all that extra work? This idiot was exhausted enough just by being in the same room with Varis, and Max would be shocked if Aaron settled for anything less than perfect grades in every class.

“So you are a masochist,” he whispered reverently, as if he’d just stumbled onto some grand secret to the meaning of life. “If Varis didn’t put you up to this, why even bother? Sounds like a lot of fucking work.”

Aaron leveled Max with an unamused look. “Yes, pardon me for wanting to keep my thoughts inside my head,” he retorted condescendingly, though he quickly lost the energy even for that. “Like I said before, Lady Sinnenodel has a thing for mental mages. I’d like not to leave myself wide open to be tampered with.” He frowned thoughtfully at the table, eventually sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose as all the unpleasant, incoherent reasoning he’d given Varis came rushing back. “And… I mean, it’s… ugh.”

He shook his head in uncharacteristic frustration, waving the thought away as he put his gaze pointedly out the window. If he told Max what he really thought, he’d just wave him off as crazy. Like Varis, and Malek, and everyone else he had to explain it to did. “Nevermind. It’s stupid is what it is, but I’ve made up my mind and there’s no going back now.”

Fair enough point. Max would probably be running to take every mental course he could if it’d spare him regular brain scans by some psychopath and her slaves. Still, if protection was the first course, was the rest of the major really necessary? Probably more nuanced than that. Come to think of it, there was a very decent possibility mental magic was way more common than he thought. No wonder all these mages are fake to the point of cognitive dissonance; they had to even think their own lies.

“If you’re having second thoughts, maybe work through them before you sign up for the evil mindbreaking affinity-stealing major.” Max suggested cheekily, “Your logic sounds fine to me.”

At first Aaron leveled the other mage with a deadpan look, but after a moment he had to succumb to a laugh. “Thanks. That’s actually pretty nice to hear.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman behind the bakery counter steal a few glances their way, clearly trying not to be noticed. Aaron shot her a sheepish grin nonetheless, turning back to Max with a slightly lowered voice. “I think we might have overstayed our welcome.”

Max followed Aaron’s gaze briefly and outright scowled at the woman, paying no mind to subtlety. Well, he didn’t clock her over the head with a dough hook, but one unpleasant run-in with cops was enough for this year.

“She listening in or something?” He asked as he turned back to the other mage. How many mages came around here to talk politics on a regular basis? The workers around here probably pick up enough stories to start an information brokering business, but they’d probably all be dead if they were particularly gossipy. Besides, it was just arcane major talk.

Aaron grinned and shook his head, moving to stand. “I think we’re just supposed to buy more if we stay here too long, and I’m afraid I don’t have any money.” He put his hands in his pockets, giving the woman another apologetic smile before looking back to Max. “If you need to kill some time, we can continue this conversation in the dining hall. I certainly want to hear more about why you don’t have a winter jacket.”

Max stood in turn, an amused snort escaping him as he lifted up the cloak a bit. “I do, but it was too tight over the armor and whenever I walk around without a weapon I run into vampires that wanna talk to me.” Or worse, Eris fans. But at least they were usually beat off with a bad attitude rather than any actual threats of physical violence.

At least Aaron proposed a plan; Max didn’t even know where people went to hang out around here. He wasn’t sure he knew how to entertain for a whole nother hour—or more, what the hell could Eris be doing that was taking this long?—but he did always have the ‘I’ll let you kick my ass in the training rooms’ card to play as a last resort.

Snickering, Aaron gave the woman behind the counter a wave and led Max to the door, pausing a moment to prepare himself for the cold. Damn, it looked like the wind picked up, too. “Fair enough,” he agreed, pushing out the door and onto the sidewalk. He could find some way to kill another two hours with Max. Maybe then he’d be able to go back to a less-displeased Varis for having socialized and stayed out of his sight a little longer.

November 11th - Untangling The Spider's Lies

The Mental program students weren’t difficult to find in the slightest. The cafeteria had an unofficial spot for them as a result of most others adamantly avoiding them. Any time someone tried to sit near them, an older student would stop them with a warning. It wasn’t a secret that those in the mental program liked to pry and that those still mastering control over their new found abilities could “accidently” spill every secret an innocent bystander was trying to keep. It was a courtesy that these older students kept people away from them. There was always a suffocating silence from them, rarely speaking even with one another except for a periodic laugh or other sound of exclamation. Dennis, Debbie, and two other students sat eating.

In addition to that, they had their own nook in the library carved out by the same fear as in the cafeteria. They stayed clear of the main areas, claiming a few tables off against the wall that was out of the way of the main traffic. Agitha, Jel, and Queeny were there today, aggressively pointing to various parts of a book on mental magic history. Clearly, they were arguing over something but without any words, it made it difficult to determine what.

Max, in his adamant avoidance of the library, fearlessly approached the ‘mental magic table’ in the cafeteria during lunch. He’d briefly considered making a tinfoil hat for effect, but he figured that would be an invitation for them to actively starting poking at his head. It didn’t take long before he was waving off some anxious upperclassman with a lie about nursing curiosity in the mental program. If these losers were so bad that people were actively warned against approaching them, Max doubted his polite facade would last very long in their presence. He couldn’t care less about how a bunch of social rejects gossiped about him, but lying to them would be more trouble than it was worth. Might as well drop the pretense entirely.

He stood over their table, hands tucked in his pockets casually, and cleared his throat to draw their attention from whatever unheard conversation they were having. “Yo, you’re the mental program kids, right? I’m looking for one of your buddies, think you can help me out?”

The four students jolted at the sound, their attention snapping to Max. They eyed him up and down for a few moments before they turned away. Dennis was looking between the three of them with growing desperation but his shoulders slumped and he faced Max with an awkward smile. Debbie muttered an incantation under her breath. The other two snickered and Dennis cringed. “Um, you can ask but it’s up to Queeny if we tell you. She wants to know why you’re looking for her.”

Max’s eyes trailed over to incantation girl, not bothering to hide the disdain on his face. She was probably pulling it right out of his head anyway. Keep poking around his brain with magic and he’d start poking around her brain with his magic. Violently. Using a sharp object.

He looked back to the kid that addressed him. Queeny, how pretentious. Either they read his mind and she was the Evans lady he needed to find or she was just their self-important ringleader. Maybe both. “Need to ask a ‘Miss Evans’ a question. Somebody’s lying to me and I wanna figure out who.” Considering all of the suspects were leeches, the answer was probably ‘All of the Above’, “I’m not interested in getting any of you weirdos into trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, no no, we don’t care about that!” Dennis promised quickly. He was quiet again, various emotions playing across his face until it settled on resignation. “I’ll take you to her. She might be in the lab but we can swing by the classroom and poke our heads in at least.” He grabbed his bag and tray as he stood, leading the way out of the cafeteria. He watched his half finished lunch tumble into the garbage mournfully and sighed before pushing outside.

“So, uh, how did you come across Ms. Evans? She doesn’t teach any regular classes.” Dennis asked as they headed back to the lecture halls. He skipped past most of the regular ones, heading Veridian Hall.

Max kept a leery gaze on Dennis as he tossed his lunch in the trash. Not that the metal mage was against punctuality, but he wasn’t expecting to be accomodated that fast. It made him suspicious.

Nevertheless, he followed dutifully. This kid wasn’t a threat - the way he moved, they way he acted; he’d crumple too easily. But he was spineless enough to dance to someone else’s tune and any one of those psychic fucks could be directing him telepathically right now. And of course, he was asking questions. At the very least, their little group chat wanted details. The mention of teaching got a raised eyebrow from the mage, but little more. Eris made it sound like this was a student. Maybe a TA and not a proper faculty member.

“What does she teach, then?” Max shamelessly avoided the question as he pulled out his phone and pretended to be busy with it. He needed to look preoccupied for this to work, at least at first.

“Sensory manipulation! It’s fun stuff really. It might be my favorite subject but telekinesis is a close second.” Dennis explained cheerily. “The first time I switched off someone’s eyesight was horrible. Turns out they were afraid of the dark and I couldn’t turn it back on because the panic was making me panic and we were both having full melt downs. It was kind of a nightmare.” Dennis laughed about it awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. He flinched violently and rubbed at his temple.

“Okay, okay sheesh.” He muttered to himself as he opened the door to the hall and led him past a few doors. He pulled one opened and stepped into a lab room with six long, black tables instead of individual seats. An older woman with grey streaking her hair hunched over a computer, peering through wire framed reading glasses over a stack of essays. She wore a lab coat pulled over her black turtleneck. Various posters and models of the brain and skull were scattered around in cabinets that lined the room. She barely looked up when they entered but Dennis didn’t hesitate to sling his bag down on one of the tables.

“What were you lied to about Max?” Ms. Evans put down her papers and pulled off her reading glasses with a stern look.

Max kept notably silent with his attention on his phone as he followed Dennis, only acknowledging him with a flat glare when the boy flinched at some unheard chiding. Definitely taking orders from someone else right now. Great. Max could handle a few gossiping hens - Eris Samael was his vampire, after all - but when they were actively conspiring against him, it became a real annoyance.

Evans was definitely not what he’d expected. In fact, he wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t been led to an imposter. She’d clearly been telepathically briefed on the situation, it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume this lady was covering for the real one if there was a grand conspiracy afoot. Would asking for ID be too paranoid? Did he even care if he looked too paranoid?

“Hi, nice to meet you too,” Max responded humorlessly. This hivemind shit was getting old quick; she could at least pretend to be in the dark for a second. He let the arm holding his phone drop innocently to his side as he discreetly pressed the call button under Ismene’s name. “Or have we met before? Apparently Her Highness believes we have.”

“While I don’t make a habit of questioning my employer, I doubt you’d feel the need to verify my identity if we’d already met.” Ms Evans replied, placing her glasses off to the side. She stared at Max and tilted her head to the side, finger absently moving as if flipping pages in a book. “I see. You’ve encountered my work in the practical. Ask your questions and we’ll see how much I am capable of answering.” She instructed, her finger still moving with a few pauses here and there.

They were dropping the pretenses entirely then? Alright, Max could work with that. “Exactly how much attention was given to those visions in the challenge with the skull? Did you have to tailor them all personally or was the content more or less unknown to you?”

She didn’t match up with Eris’ assumptions at all, which was more of a minor victory for Max than an actual problem. Ryner’s cover story sounded like bullshit from the beginning anyway, but that just meant the vampire would be expecting him to come up with a motive and he didn’t even know where to begin on that front.

"No one was aware of the content prior to the start of the practical. We were given scripts once it became obvious which direction students took." Ms. Evans replied. "Princess Ryner was given a full disclosure of what happened during his time in the challenge.]

“So you just followed this script to the letter, I’m assuming? No input on your part, just robotically going through the motions?” Max pressed. That wasn’t really an answer. “Sorry if that sounds rude, you just don’t seem like the type to break protocol.”

"We had the opportunity to deviate from the script if we discovered something more effective. Mr. Samael's relationship with Count Sinnenodel, and the discrepancy between them, provided an excellent fissure to explore during the exam. Otherwise, I stayed as close to the script as possible." She replied, continuing to gesture. Her eyes flicked to Dennis, who let out a quiet hiss of pain as he scrambled to his feet and bolted from the room with his bag.

“And yet I can’t help but think there were better avenues to exploit that than a jumbled history lesson. Especially when a few seemingly random names popped up in both vampires’ visions. I can hardly see how long-dead vampires would bare any relevance to a little tryst of mere decades, if that.” That confirmed she was an active puppeteer, so the scenario probably wasn’t just a spell gone wrong. But if that vision was deliberate, what the fuck did it mean? And what was with the mark?

Max’s attention turned to Dennis as he got quickly ushered out of the room. “That’s the second time I’ve seen him get mentally smacked in the past ten minutes. You guys must be such bullies,” he mused in a sarcastic sing-song, “Does that mean the peanut gallery doesn’t get to listen in on this part?”

That worked for him, anything those kids learned could get back to Aaron - and Varis - eventually. The jackass commentary floating around the hivemind would probably get them battered with a chair if they said it to his face anyway.

“While I cannot give you any more insight into the specifics. I can venture to assume that if you and your partner discovered overlaps, it’s likely the result of our link overlapping as a result of the strain of the exercise.” She explained, tapping her forehead. She let out a sigh, rubbing at the side of her neck briefly before continuing. “If you have further questions about the specific content, I recommend discussing it with Princess Ryner.”

Evidently this lady wasn’t briefed on what lies to tell when she was pressed. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Ryner. Sloppy work. Unless Eris was the loose link here, but he couldn’t imagine the leech would send him on an errand like this based on a false premise. “Let’s stop pretending privacy is a concern here,” Max began as he leaned on a table like an interrogator from a cheesy detective movie. If that didn’t sell that he was Eris’ pet, nothing would. “I’m here on Eris’ orders with his full blessing and I’ve already done my homework on everyone else involved. I know all of the ‘whats’ here, I just want to know the ‘whys’. And, by the way, your explanation already isn’t aligning with what Ryner’s already said.”

“The princess claimed you were some vapid Eris fan who was so mortified to discover he was romantically involved that you broke protocol and altered the test against Her Highness’ wishes in a fit of petty rage.” Max clapped his hands together in fake excitement, as if he’d just thought of a splendid idea, “So, shall I go discuss with Princess Ryner about how you’re accusing her of lying to hide your own mistake? Or can we drop the charade and you tell me what really went wrong in that test?”

She gave Max a humorless smile. “As much as I would love to help you and your associate, I’m afraid I cannot. It is true I admire Mr. Samael’s work and I doubt there is an mage with an interest in his work that wouldn’t trip over themselves at the opportunity to enjoy his company. Do I think that Count Sinnenodel is a bad match for him, after having the opportunity to see the nature of their relationship? Of course.” She sighed as she spoke. “However, I personally do not believe that has anything to with how I handled the exam. The Princess, on the other hand, is a several century old vampire. They’re emotional intelligence is limited at best. I do not blame her for believing that a mortal’s personal belief could interfere with their work.”

“I’m curious though. Why do you believe something went wrong in the exam?” She asked in return. “Is Mr. Samael suffering any cognitive issues? Vampires are a touch more difficult to ensnare, even at their age, but I didn't believe there were any lingering effects of my magic.”

Max stared at her flatly. Did she not know? How could she not, she was the one that did it. “Really? No lingering effects? Not even here?” He tapped at his wrist, where the mark would’ve been on Eris. “Why don’t you recount the events of Eris’ vision for me, then? That shouldn’t be a problem since I have his consent to be asking, and according to you, it all went according to plan.”

Maybe clone-Varis really did throttle this lady hard enough to give her brain damage. Imagine getting beat up by an illusionary construct of your own creation, though. Just like he thought; the mental kids were all hacks. That, or Ryner had everyone involved subjected to some mindwipe bullshit to hide… whatever the fuck she was hiding.

“His wrist? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Ms. Evans replied coolly. “Mental magic is incapable of creating marks on the skin. I could make you believe you walked through fire but you’d have no visible burn marks to the outside world. He’s clearly misled you if you think it was a result of my exam.” She pulled out a consent form that would allow her to discuss the nature of the exam. She filled in the section for Eris, pulling out a stamp that could be adjusted. She fiddled with it and stamped it on the signature line. It included the date and time of when Eris directed his mage to pursue this information. She handed it and a pen to Max.

“Sign and then I’ll discuss the contents. I am incapable of discussing more than I have until you do.” She explained. “Since I’ve seen the permission, Mr. Samael’s side is taken care of.”

Max’s brow arched as she started pulling out paperwork. Seriously? If she was just going to pull Eris’ consent out of Max’s head, he didn’t see the need for the form to begin with. Probably so she has something to brandish defensively when Ryner borrows her sister’s axe and chops the door down to defend whatever secret she’s keeping.

The mage signed a lazy scribble across the indicated line, showing his displeasure quite clearly with a huff. It took the last bit of his restraint to not just throw the pen back across the desk at her. He was pretty convinced she was full of shit, but it wasn’t lost on him that they both could be getting played here.

“Just checking, that dweeb from before isn’t still camping outside the door and listening in, is he?” Max asked offhandedly. Ms. Evans herself was a lost cause, this was all definitely getting reported to Ryner afterward - not that it mattered, the princess had to know Eris would follow up once he got a name out of her. But those kids had pretty loose lips, and Max wasn’t sure how chummy all the social rejects got with their likely equally-ostracized professors.

She followed the paper evenly once, twice, and again and again until it was as small as it would go. She picked it up, placed it on her tongue, and swallowed. A shiver ran through her but otherwise, her demeanor didn't change. "My students are incapable of being privy to this conversation." Ms. Evans replied. She collected her thoughts for a moment before beginning.

"Mr. Samael’s experience was changed when count Varis and Mr. Starag entered the clearing shortly after yourselves. Originally, your extremes were intended to drag down Mr. Samael but Count Sinnenodel’s presence changed our plan. A rudimentary script was drawn up, based mostly on Princess Ryner’s personal dealings with the Count, while they waited for their mages to suffer through the trials first. While I am unable to discuss the technical details of the magic behind the challenge, I can say I experienced severe mental backlash upon creating Count Sinnenodel’s visage. It overwhelmed me momentarily which permitted some of my less professional opinions to saturate the spell.” Ms. Evans touched her temple as she grimaced at the memory and then dropped her hand again, rubbing absently at her throat once more.

“I hadn’t experienced something so strong in a vampire as young as Count Sinnenodel. Princess Ryner later clarified that it was likely the Count subjected himself to a series of mental defense lessons which would explain why he presented as multiple personalities. Unfortunately, the spell is incredibly taxing and once cast, is almost impossible to change without dispelling it entirely. As a result, Mr. Samael suffered the results of Count Sinnenodel’s fracture defensive training.” She explained, hesitating for a few moments before pushing on. “Unfortunately, whatever skill the Count has makes it difficult to remember the exact proceedings. I recall fragments, something like Grechin and parts of a discussion about a villager, but the transcript was made by having two others who delved through my memories. Since I am no longer part of the process, I had no interest in reviewing beyond what was necessary.”

Max grimaced as Ms. Evans suddenly decided the paper they were dealing with looked appetizing. He sincerely hoped that was the key to some sort of geas preventing the event coordinators from spilling everyone’s secrets and not just some weird idiosyncrasy the woman had concocted. Either way, what a stupid thing to turn into a spell.

Severe mental backlash, huh? She really did get handedly bested by a fucking clone, then. The rest of the story was where Max started having doubts. The weird dissociation defense was believable; it wasn’t like Max had a better idea as to why the clone supposedly didn’t know who he was, but he was to believe this lady conveniently forgot everything else about the test? Was he just supposed to go on a wild goose chase for her two assistants now? And they’d certainly have alibis and people to blame too. Ryner probably set this up to lead nowhere - Ms. Evans admitted it herself, everything she knew was fed to her by Ryner after the fact anyway.

“So you made me fill out all that paperwork just to get you to admit you have no idea what happened during that test, and you’re just recounting what other people have told you,” Max drearily confirmed, “Do these two others have a name? Or was Count Sinnenodel’s mental fortitude just so unprecedented that they too coincidentally know absolutely nothing of what transpired?”

“I believe I've repeated myself enough. I've discussed as much as I can about the situation." Ms. Evans replied, putting her glasses back on and picking up what she had been reading before Max's interruptions. The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. “You are more than welcome to continue this line of questioning with Dr. Visar, the head of the Mental program. It seems he's free for a few hours in two weeks, if you'd like him to add you to his schedule."

Oh good, another gullible pawn to feed Max nonanswers and half-truths. And with an appointment, no less. Might as well march into Ryner’s office and ask her for the lie personally; this guy would be briefed on the official narrative he was supposed to tell by this weekend, if he wasn’t already.

Max sighed defeatedly and threw a hand up in mock surrender. “Great, more psychic bullshit,” The mage muttered to himself before refocusing on the professor across from him, “That depends. Is Doctor Visar more knowledgeable about this whole scenario than you are? Or is he just not subject to the same paper eating spell that’s making you watch your words?” He figured he’d give Ms. Evans the benefit of the doubt in assuming she was Ryner’s unfortunate patsy rather than deliberately lying to him. “Because, believe it or not, I don’t actually enjoy butting heads with random faculty members, let alone department heads.”

"He developed the keystone spell for the exam. I have every confidence he will be able to assist you where I cannot." She started marking the paper she had been reading. "Is there any other concerns you wish to bring up or have you found yourself suitably dissatisfied yet?"

“I was dissatisfied before I even came in here, now I’m just annoyed,” Max grumbled before turning away to excuse himself, “Sorry for taking up your time. A meeting with Doctor Visar would be great, thank you.” At least he was getting to the top of the totem pole earlier. If this guy was just as in the dark, Max would get to say he exhausted all his leads and Eris could find his own intel. That, or go play word games with Ryner until he ended up on a state watchlist. Hell, he probably was already.

Of Blood and Magic

---

Huh. Max expected more from that. Maybe not Eris demanding an explanation but at least a snide comment or two. He just... conceded. Max must've put the leech in check more skillfully than he thought. Sure, he was abrasive and hardly proactive at the chickenshit political games vampires play at all the time, but Eris had to have known from the moment he stepped in the door in a hoodie that Max fully intended to topple Eris' entire house of cards that day. The mischief didn't just end the moment Eris was out of sight and Max was alone with the favorite pet.

This guy was definitely not as crafty as he thought he was, in any case.

"That sounds awful. You have fun," Max dismissively muttered as he paced back to his room. Even Eris' taste in bad TV was quintessentially Eris. Instructional manuals on mage rearing were more Max's speed - especially the ones written by well-meaning but ultimately patronizing 'activists' who hadn't yet managed to differentiate mages from poodles. Then again, Eris probably ranked his dog and his mages on the same level anyway, so he wouldn't get the humor. Nobody got the humor around here. He didn't talk to anyone enough to even know if they'd get it except Aaron. What the fuck, was the Retriever really his best friend now? He didn't even like that guy.

Max flopped face down on his bed with a groan, letting the muffled sounds of Lady Anabelle's unconvincing acting from the other room drown out his thoughts. It didn't work. Was this how workaholics like Ismene formed? High society was so insufferable and full of backstabbers that a mage had to simply bury themselves in their work to distract from the boredom? He'd assumed the tedium of secretarial work was just as bad, but he wasn't even out of school yet and Eris already had him wrapped up in the nobility's literal mind game. Explained why the leech took his loss so gracefully back there; he was probably weighing the benefits of bossing around an uncooperative asshole that had some drive against some easily-managed basket case and decided it was easier to trick a wolf to serve than train a sheep to hunt. Now he'd even spoiled his own victory. Great.

---

@Hero

Deleted

---

Kho stayed rigid and attentive as the Magister made what seemed to be his closing remarks. Hopefully the man hadn't found him distasteful; Khalophis was dismissive now, but what could one so low in the hierarchy expect from a Magister? The fact that he addressed them at all was a good sign. Probably. He seemed more interested in Zahra than anyone here anyway, though Kho couldn't make up his mind whether the implication a girl covered in burns should be a pyromancer was fitting or tasteless.

'The whole plaza can hear you thinking, you nervous wreck,' Teken teased in the back of his mind.

The boy's brow furrowed in visible irritation at the unheard comment as he worked his jaw in silence. Still respectful of the authority in their presence, his head subtly cocked toward the falcon on his shoulder, unamused, only for both novitiate and tutelary to immediately snap their attention to the feather in Khalophis' hand as it flared to life.

The white glow had Teken completely enraptured; the bird's head tilted and turned as its eyes pointedly followed the fire wherever it moved. The gleam in its eyes faded as Khalophis made his demonstration of the fire being harmless, but the falcon continued to watch until Toruk had carried the feather out of sight. Likewise, the tension in Kho's body visibly melted in the heatless flame. It looked to be such a simple spell - at least he assumed, it was just as likely a flame that didn't burn was the Magister's way of reinforcing the skill gap between them - but Kho could only think of what it would be like to do that himself.

Khalophis was long gone by the time Khotanebre snapped back to attention and stiffened with embarrassment at Radaam's farewell. He hoped the other novitiates hadn't noticed him standing there with his mouth parted in wonder like a drooling simpleton.

"Erm. Yes. Nice meeting you too. And, err, good luck," Kho rambled as he tried to get his thoughts in order. Right. He needed to talk to his family too. Wait, no, his magus was more important. He really needed to know how sorcerers were supposed to talk to each other before he ran into anyone else with a title around here. Dismissing himself with a quick bow to Khaemtir, Kho made his way back toward the dais they'd been inducted on, scanning the crowd for the imposing man with the embers for eyes.

When he finally located the man, Khotanebre approached to present himself before Magus Xavier with a stiff bow of his head. "Apologies if I kept you waiting, Magus."

---

@Obscene Symphony@Achronum@Dead Cruiser

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@Dead Cruiser Added Kho's aura

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Well, that figures. Khaemtir got thrown into a study group with someone new and couldn't help but find the peasantry quaint and amusing. Kho would've been worried for Radaam if he weren't certain Khaemtir's antics were mostly harmless. Honestly, Kho probably should still be a tad worried; the boy was going to have to sit through dinner with the entire Maryatum family without sticking his foot in his mouth. Ishara being in their group only brought further confusion. Odd that their master took on two prestigious students from the Pesedjet and then some nobody. Radaam had to be talented somehow; maybe their master saw his potential in some portent, they were Crows after all.

Kho flashed Radaam a sympathetic look before refocusing on Khaemtir. Collaboration wasn't something he was averse to, even between cults, though he had to admit his concern for divination was more idle curiosity than academic interest. Still, a Maryatum was a powerful ally, and it wasn't like he had a reason to say no, even if Khaemtir was a bit... much.

"Friends, sure," he agreed awkwardly, "You'll have to come to the estate some time when you're not busy entertaining your families. On short enough notice that my brother glares at you everytime you walk past, of course." It would serve him right for informing Kho about important guests at the last minute all the time.

The boy gave them both a welcoming smile which was quickly wiped from his face by the approaching black cloak. That little girl really was fearless, wasn't she? This man was shimmering and she still probably tried tugging on his clothing like she did Kho's.

Not only that, but Khotanebre knew this man from somewhere. Red Order? No, he was a magister. Magister Khalophis. And that brooch - definitely Cult of the Phoenix, if the heat waves emanating from him weren't enough of a hint. This was his boss; his boss' boss, even. The social stakes just kept climbing higher around here. He was briefly thankful the Crimson King hadn't been in attendance; he'd have probably bumped into the man in line for refreshments at this rate. No, that was silly, His Majesty would never have to wait for his foo-

A telepathic jostling from Teken stirred Kho from his mental gymnastics. Right, he'd been addressed. Fuck, this was so much more stressful than being some dumb kid at an important party. The redhead locked his knees and clenched his fists under his cloak to prevent any unconscious fidgeting as he dipped his head in respectful greeting to Khalophis. Hopefully the sweat dripping down his cheek would be blamed on the heat and not his nerves.

"He's well, thank you, Magister. I think he's just relieved he won't have to arrange a marriage for me anymore, if I'm being honest," Kho let out a laugh that was supposed to sound lighthearted but came out more like a nervously forced titter. Stupid. Stupid. Who says that? The boy cleared his throat before continuing, "I look forward to working under you, in whatever capacity that may be."

---

@Obscene Symphony@Achronum@Dead Cruiser

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max clicked his tongue at his phone as the reply came through. That told him nothing, and asking Eris about it would just be wasting all his cards before he had a winning hand anyway. Better to keep the leech guessing; that had to have tipped Eris off on Max's game, but he doubted the vampire knew how he was playing it yet.

Eris' comment was... unexpected. Very on-key for Eris, but unexpected. Max swore the vampire told him to get along with his pet siblings at one point or another; he should've been happy. Then again, he probably never expected his crabby new stray would be teaming up with his well-behaved purebred show dog against him. Hell, this wasn't even against him, it was just confirmation the leech wasn't making a dumb mistake. He should be grateful. Either that or Eris was fucking with him to try and get him to spill how much he knew.

"Nonsense, we're just collaborating on how best to serve you, master." Max gave a big, fake-as-could-be sunny grin, clasping his hands together behind his back like an eager to please little servant. The alarm bells would be ringing in Eris' head regardless, might as well be confident in his stupid nonanswer. "Don't confuse apathy for passivity, yeah?" His warning had a bit more of a bite to it, but he kept up the jackass charade anyway.

---

@Hero

Deleted

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Judging by the way this guy was fumbling, he was likely just bad at talking to people rather than riding some egotistical high from rising above his station. Still, Radaam really should learn to choose his words more carefully in the future. Kho opened his mouth to advise such when he was interrupted by a relatively familiar voice barrelling into the conversation. Great. As lackadaisical as Khaemtir was, he was still a power player here - yet another point on the list of things Kho needed to be conscious of.

The real question was how someone like Radaam ended up buddies with the Maryatum kid. Granted, he was pretty sure he recalled Khaemtir being some forgotten sibling that would have to miraculously outlive half his family in order to become heir apparent, not to mention contend with the Maryatum's matriarchal tendencies, but even that supplied plenty of status in near any circle. Definitely enough to not have to mingle with commoners, in any case. Maybe they were in the same Cult; Kho hadn't really been paying attention to anyone else, as wrapped up in his thoughts as he was.

Kho straightened his posture back to formal rigidity at Khaemtir's addressal of him. Kho - since when were they close like that? Teken needed to stop encouraging people he'd just met to buddy up with him.

"Likewise, Novitiate Maryatum," Kho responded, establishing boundaries for his own sake even if Khaemtir was content to ignore them, "I wouldn't say it's rude, though it might come off as a tad insecure. You wouldn't want your magus to think you believe you're undeserving of your role." Ugh, that was another thought. What was the proper balance between wide-eyed student and self-assured magician that portrayed necessary willpower without looking arrogant? So many variables here; how did anyone keep up with this public status dance?

Now for the nagging question, "How do you two know each other, if I may be so bold? I don't recognize him from the Pesedjet."

---

@Obscene Symphony@Achronum

Persona ~ The Beholder

---

Leo stared blankly at the duo - no, trio before him. Very coincidental that it was the weird kid and the girl from earlier, though he didn't know who the third guy was. Still, small campus, huh? The more they babbled about hallucinations and lucid dreams, the more Leo was convinced he actually was dreaming. People dreamed about stuff that was at the forefront of their mind, right? He'd ran into those two earlier, and probably the third guy too without remembering. The weird mimicry of the library was a no-brainer, because that's where he fell asleep.

He was roused from his thinking by short kid's question. Why was he asking him? Oh, right, it was his dream; he's the main character. That was kinda annoying, actually. He wanted a low-effort dream. Other guy introduced himself too, that was handy. Leo briefly wondered if his subconscious was supplying the guy's real name that he forgot or if it just assigned him a random one. Was Kjell even a real name?

"I'm Leo," he responded to Kjell first before turning back to the weird haired dwarf, "Of the library or campus in general? Because the door's... that way." Leo paced off carelessly toward the exit, expecting the others to follow. Come to think of it, this guy may have had a point in his rambling. Maybe this was a weird nightmare and Thames' Edge was now a slasher film set, they should probably find somewhere to lay low.

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@Crimson Flame@Ryteb Pymeroce@Theyra

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Cult of the Crow? Radaam must be either very talented or very lucky. Kho didn't recognize him from the Pesedjet, and he doubted the cult with the most prestigious reputation would have to resort to picking from lesser academies if one of the students hadn't specifically caught a magus' eye. Though for all this supposed Aethetic ability, his tutelary seemed a bit... simple. It certainly didn't talk, unless it was a telepath - or maybe it was just shy.

Kho returned a stiff wave to Zahra and the serpentine tutelary as they bounced back into the crowd on her brother's command. Judging by the way Radaam was talking to her, this seemed like a common occurance. He arched a brow at Radaam's rhetorical question, but didn't actively comment. What could he do? Quite a bit; Kho would've never gotten away with that type of thing. The wandering was expected of a curious child, but pestering a sorcerer? That could easily be a poor reflection on the family, or worse, if the sorcerer in question was particularly crabby.

The boy's nose crinkled almost imperceptibly in distaste at Radaam's comment on his new cult, though he quickly caught himself before he visibly made a rude face. What was not to envy about the Cult of the Phoenix? Kho's first thought was that this uppity commoner's ego was already inflating exponentially mere moments after being inducted into the Cult of the Crow, but Radaam spoke of his own cult with the same amount of hesitation. Was he hoping for another one in particular, then?

Sensing his master's discontent, Teken looked up from the last scraps of his snack and peered at the large newcomer much the same way he'd eyed his tutelary; like a predator sizing up its next meal. The bird flicked the lingering juices from its talons before rapidly flapped its wings to hover up and perch on Kho's shoulder once again. Great, now he'll probably have meat stains on his pristine white cloak like some slob.

"Err, yes. Pyromancy was probably my best subject. I take it you're not much of a diviner if your assignment surprised you," Kho answered plainly, rather than chide Teken or ask the potentially accusatory question lingering in the back of his mind.

"And what's wrong with the Cult of the Phoenix, huh?"

Unless Teken decided to ask for him, that is. Stupid bird.

"Please excuse my tutelary, he hasn't learned to ignore veiled insults yet." He sighed wearily. Kho wasn't even sure if that was an insult, but the proverbial cat was already out of the bag. Thank the heavens this guy wasn't too important; crassness was probably the norm for him.

---

@Obscene Symphony

Of Blood and Magic

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Max stared at Eris humorlessly as the leech mused about how to condition him. He made metal float, it wasn't exactly esoteric. If Eris couldn't infer his skillset from that, he was an idiot. What the hell was his problem tonight? It was like Eris couldn't decide whether to play spurned girlfriend or flippant pet owner.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll be positively enamored with all my initiative." If Eris was smart, he should've figured lending Max to someone important was a disaster waiting to happen. And if not, well, he'd only make that mistake once. The mage rolled his eyes as he reached for his buzzing phone. What did Aaron want now?

Oh. Ismene finally got back to him. It wasn't lost on him that she probably just wanted to sic Max on Eris for ignoring her, though. The corner of his mouth quirked upward in amusement at her adoption of his 'Cinnamon' nickname, though he wasn't entirely sure if she was poking fun at the count or just trying to look inconspicuous in case someone glanced at her messages. The grin quickly faded as he got to the second half of the message. Eris walked back to the dorm with a spring in his step, yet here he was, apparently whipped enough to mail Varis all his money. Either they made some weird property trade or the leech was full of shit.

> Should I be worried and/or yelling at him rn?

"You should probably get that. She starts telling me things when you don't answer," Max said with a halfassed attempt at a playful lilt as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He'd have to proceed under the assumption that Eris had no semblance of control over the situation no matter how much of a confident front the vampire put up. How the fuck did Max keep getting fooled into taking an actor at his word?

---

@Hero