The month passed before long, bringing them closer to Frostfall’s grasp. Gray clouds roamed the skies like heavenly nomads from the east, carrying with them the deathly chill that would soon send the flowers into a restful dormancy. Aside from that, nothing had changed. Hierrsé was as busy as ever, Taní’s House refused to acknowledge his existence, and Innes continued to harass him.


    The only difference in their exchanges was the reaching nature of his petty insults, or as Taní saw it, a child crying for attention. Not that probing at someone wasn’t a bad way to get it. Still, realistically, only two things happened after enough bullying: Either they became so self-conscious that everything hurt more, or they became so numb to the negative emotions that their insults bounced off like arrowheads against a castle wall.


    As for what category Taní fell in, he couldn’t say. Besides, his social life had vastly improved ever since that head-on collision! He spent time with Jaster every morning, shared lunch with Lavisa, and when grace came, he managed a hushed exchange with ?zar and Canela. That or he was hallucinating everything.


    The siblings posed something of a mystery, though. Mainly because of how difficult it was to get a read on them. What with their…inclinations.


    Taní knew of the infamous tales regarding uncomfortably close twins. Two people practically glued at the hip and drifting wherever they wanted, but never siblings more than a year apart. Canela clung to ?zar at all times of day, scaring away girl after girl like some back-alley cat. It didn’t matter if ?zar was simply greeting them, Canela viewed them as a threat. Which made him wonder what sort of “threat” they posed to their dynamic.


    There would be a brief spat, but ?zar’s irritation seldom lasted. Why? Because the girl would slip into his arms with a playful giggle, forcing him into a makeshift embrace. Despite how intimidating she could be, Taní had to admit that she was rather cute when she pulled the “little sister” act. Not that it prevented ?zar from grumbling about his misfortune.


    When Canela wasn’t busy destroying her brother’s social life, she was a pretty sweet and intelligent girl. From rumors of who was dating who (with an uncanny knowledge of every single girl in every single year who betrayed the slightest interest in ?zar) to lore regarding the Houses, she seemed to know it all. Taní’s only issue with Canela was her crude sense of humor. As she had a terrible habit of referring to every female student—aside from Lavisa—as a floozie.


    Those within the vicinity of its utterance would usually cast an annoyed glance the girl’s way, though they never bothered fighting back. Maybe they were afraid of having their allowance “fairly” reduced. That, or they had grown accustomed to her quirkiness. Whatever the case, Taní didn’t protest. She was free to call them whatever she liked so long as she refrained from including Lavisa among their rank. Besides, unlike Innes the Surly Sailor, Canela possessed redeeming qualities…maybe.


    The only other woman Canela didn’t seem to mind was the Lady of House Fadénix. A student by the name of Micene. Taní had yet to truly speak to her, and while he’s certain he had passed her in the hall before, he didn’t want to risk engendering her ire.


    On that note, the monthly tourney—from what he’s heard—went as well as one could’ve expected. Vlasalisk took home the prize, and Fadénix came dead last. Interestingly enough, it wasn’t Vlasalisk’s champion that had carried them to victory. It was one of their first-years.


    Innes.


    Fadénix took the loss well enough, though if there was one person who took it harder than the rest, it was ?zar. The blonde brooded in isolated corners like some reprimanded child. His sister at his heels. Canela claimed this as his “brooding phase,” and though she found it…attractive, it never lasted. Just a week, sometimes two. Then he’d be up and about.


    Though Fadénix was hurting for SG, they received a handsome sum as a reward for a string of "goodwill." Not that it would hold them over for long. They’d have to come up with something clever for the remainder of the month. For now, Taní’s primary concern was surviving the day.


    His Sedd instructor, master Ayra, gave a brief overview of last month’s unit. That being the rediscovery of Sedd by King Bastino I. Common knowledge among the peasantry, but an easy day was an easy day.


    During the 7th century, King Bastino had awakened his blood by reading ancient Juneac?o texts with the assistance of something they referred to as a likeness. Accounts claim they were the lingering will of ancient warriors, but even Taní thought that sounded farfetched. These likenesses—for whatever reason—refused the suggestion of reallocation, so Bastino wrote a series of poems encapsulating their wisdom. If a warrior''s blood stirred in response to the scripture, if they believed the words to be true with every ounce of their being, then they’d receive the blessings of Tygenna.


    How reading a scroll could grant one power, Taní didn’t know, but it wasn’t his place to question divine authority. He was curious why there weren’t more artificial Juneac?o wandering the lands. Then again, knowledge like that would cause more trouble than it''s worth. Especially if all it took to receive awesome powers was reading a piece of paper and being crazy enough to believe the words were real.


    Moonrays, maybe it was a good thing the current king kept them locked in Histell’s vault.


    Though Taní didn’t have access to these scrolls, likenesses were another matter altogether. The remnants of a being… A sort of living dream. One said to mirror the twinkle of the Desolator’s scales. They even possessed occult knowledge! Like the forbidden rituals to summon forth desire. If he could find one, perhaps even make some sort of pact like Bastino I did, then maybe he could be a real Juneac?o, too.


    Aside from his daydreams, the other interesting fact Taní had learned regarded the origin of their blood.


    Back when the Lord of Dreams and The Slumbering Juneac?o reigned, they beseeched humanity to offer them their truest desire. Their answer? A connection to Creation. The ability to create something from nothing.


    A Wish, or so Tygenna had interpreted their request as. Either way, they performed a ritual. One where man partook of her divine essence. This connection not only blessed man with the ability to make Wishes, but also granted them access to her powers.


    Or so the legends claimed.


    If Taní ever saw Tygenna again, he’d have to ask if the stories were true.


    “D’Histell,” master Ayra called, “can you tell me how a Juneac?o stirs their blood?”


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    Taní pushed his head off from the cool desk. “By Awakening, right?”


    “Technically, Awakening only grants you the ability to stir your blood. I am asking you how it one performs said task.”


    “By being honest…?”


    A round of laughter rattled the air, summoning the dreaded heat of embarrassment that clawed at Taní’s cheeks. Danza often stressed the importance of being true when stirring one’s blood. What was so wrong about that?


    Master Ayra pointed her ruler at the desk beside Taní’s. “Corat?o, can you explain how one stirs?”


    Taní turned just in time to catch Innes’s irritating smirk. “Gladly, master Ayra. The ability to stir our blood varies depending on the School of Sedd one draws from. Vigorous, quick strokes for Goem, heating the blood. Gentle, steady strokes for Toem, subtly shifting the form of the blood. And for Judgment, one needs to pour themselves into the Well. Timing their vigorous strokes with the pulse of life. It is only through these conditions that our blood—whether that be phial, spilled, or natural—adheres to our command.”


    Master Ayra smiled like a proud mother. “Very good, Corat?o.”


    “Very good, Corat?o,” Taní mimed the words with barely suppressed disdain.


    Halfway through the class, she slammed them with a quick review sheet. Taní spent some time knocking his head around for worthwhile answers, but he could’ve done worse.


    After the bell rang, Taní spent the entirety of his grace lying down on the sofa in every manner conceivable. Upside-down, sideways, lying flat, and even hanging over the edge, but he finally managed to get a nap in after his inconsistent repose. Tygenna wasn’t there, though. It was only a dream involving his mother.


    When grace ended, Taní trudged to his final class for the day: Art. As he was in the middle of throwing on his garb, he briefly considered the pros and cons of napping in the changing room. Alas, he fell in line with the other kids and waited.


    “Tan?o.”


    Taní swiveled around to face Lavisa.


    Though he had grown accustomed to her in her Art uniform, his pulse quickened all the same. He met her gaze to ease his heart’s fluttering, but when he caught sight of those tender eyes aimed only at him, he suddenly learned what it would feel like to have your arms and legs be made of jelly.


    “H-Hey Lavisa. Good to see you again,” Taní squeaked out.


    “Likewise,” came her modulated response. “How have you fared?”


    “Worn, I guess.”


    “Why’s that?”


    “Not sure. Just an especially draining day.”


    “Some days can be like that.”


    Taní’s eyes widened. “You get tired, too?”


    “Doesn’t everyone?” she said with a giggle.


    “Well, yeah, but you never seem bothered.”


    “I can assure you, Tan?o, that some days are more taxing than others.”


    “Doesn’t seem that way.”


    “Despite what you may believe, adjustments to our schedule do not translate to immunity. Our familiar workload does not make us tireless. So if you wish to cast ridicule upon yourself for being human, then at least make it creative.”


    Taní grinned from ear to ear. Hearing it made him feel a thousand times better. If someone like Lavisa got tired after a year at Hierrsé, then he wasn’t weak. Maybe a little lazy, yeah, but not weak.


    “How’s your head doing?” she abruptly inquired.


    Taní absentmindedly touched his temple. “No brain damage yet.”


    “Are you certain?”


    “Yeah.”


    “You’ve yet to experience bouts of lightheadedness, then? How’s your balance? Do you find yourself off? And your thoughts. Do they take longer to process than usual?”


    Taní stared as she barraged him with an endless series of questions. He waited for her onslaught to end, though as always, she surprised him by adding another inquiry onto the pile.


    Eventually, Taní held up a hand just to stop her. “I’m fine, Lavisa. Really.”


    Lavisa’s lips thinned into a line. “Are you certain? Head injuries can leave lasting damage if unchecked.”


    “Yes, I’m fine. Really.”


    “Why don’t we take it easy today? I’ll show you the traditional strokes of Coros fencing. Guiding you as I deem fit. We can save the sparring until you’ve fully recovered.”


    Taní shot her a flat stare. “Lavisa.”


    “No, perhaps that’s far too strenuous. I’ve heard even a small stretch could lead to a state of permanent debilitation.”


    “Lavisa.”


    “I’ll run to the nurse and request a slip to exempt you from all physical activity for the rest of the week. That way, you can still earn SG for attendance.”


    “Are you even listening to me?”


    The princess shook her head, frustrated with herself. “No, that won’t do. I’ll write to father and ask him to send one of the royal physicians. They’re well equipped to combat traumatic injuries. It might take days for them to arrive, but if you’re fine with wait—”


    “LAVISA.”


    A thick shroud of silence blanketed the room. Taní didn’t have to look to know that everyone was staring at him. He hadn’t intended for his interjection to be so piercing, but…


    Well, there was no going back.


    Lavisa appeared more puzzled than startled as she awaited his response. Given the nature of their environment, Taní wasn’t keen on rushing the matter. So he waited until the soft rumble of conversation graced the air. Even then, he knew someone was eavesdropping. Not that they would learn much.


    “Lavisa,” Taní began, voice hushed, “I get that you’re worried, but it’s been two WEEKS since I cracked my skull open. Can’t you just relax? I’m not dead yet.”


    Lavisa squirmed. “I-I know, I just…” Her eyes fell to the side. “I’d rather not risk it. Not this time.”


    “Risk what?”


    “…Nothing.”


    “Well, as much as I want to know what ‘nothing’ is, I won’t press.” Taní paused and chewed on a response, but realizing it wasn’t the smart thing to say, settled on the next best thing. “I want time off as much as the next guy, but I can’t keep missing classes if I want to be a Juneac?o. You understand that, right?”


    Lavisa closed her eyes and dipped her head. “Yes… I do.”


    “So, you understand that once I’m out there, I can’t let something as small as a bump stop me. I won’t have you, the instructors, or other Grazers around to help me. I’ll just be on my own.”


    “The Juries…they’ll—”


    “They won’t,” Taní said, smiling.


    Lavisa bit her lip. “You don’t know that. They’re here to protect us. Even other Juneac?o.”


    “That’s not how the world works, Lavisa. That’s just what they tell us.”


    Yes, Danza had always done the same when he delivered bad news. It was best to reveal the harsh truth with a warm grin. No yelling, no accusatory glares, only reluctance. Taní would become a Juneac?o in name, but not in truth. Not as long as he would remain a Grazer. The Juries would consider him nothing more than a lowly mercenary lucky enough to gain Tygenna’s blessing.


    Lucky. The word almost made him laugh. Maybe he would be lucky enough to be accepted into a Jury; maybe they would overlook his brief stint with Danza, and they would brand him a worthwhile candidate.


    “Tan?o…”


    The fragile voice of a little girl drew Taní out of his murky thoughts.


    Lavisa refused to meet his gaze, her eyes appearing…different. Some rogue had robbed them of something precious. Something bright. Like a child being told they couldn’t be a king.


    “You’re real…to me,” Lavisa murmured, voice tight with disappointment.


    Taní flashed her a good-natured grin. “I’d hope so, else this conversation would be looking pretty awkward.”


    Lavisa giggled, though even that sounded forced. “I suppose so.”