“Tan?o?”


    Taní instinctively shielded his face. “It wasn’t me; I swear!”


    “Pardon...?”


    Taní peered through the vents in his fingers. It was Lavisa. Her delicate brow cocked as if he were a drake in the dark. Realizing his death had yet to be sentenced, Taní relaxed. “Uh, I mean, nothing. Just ignore that.”


    “Is something the matter, Tan?o?”


    “Unless you think my grades of note, not really.”


    “I see. Is there a particularly troubling subject in mind?"


    Keeping secrets. “Pretty much everything. Guessing it’s this hard for everyone, though.”


    Lavisa nodded. “Acclimating to an academic environment can take time. Suffice it to say, we''ve our tempos to waltz to.”


    “I s’pose you’re right…” Taní lowered his voice. “I just wish Literature wasn’t so long.”


    “You and everyone else.”


    Taní recovered his belongings from his Art locker. Several stragglers remained in the classroom, talking, waiting for friends, or asking Eleanor questions. As for the shrine-glued instructor herself, she stood at a parade rest. The dimly lit golden pebble hung from the knife''s edge upon a sling so that it was a hair''s breadth from her.


    Taní and Lavisa bade her farewell before stepping out into the nearly empty hall. Lavisa mentioned something about an “exam.” What that was, he wasn’t certain. It sounded bloody scary, though.


    He ultimately learned that she partook in two extra circulars. They were the Tea Appreciation Society (or the “Ateaseciation” as Lavisa referred to it with a giggle), and the Association of Occult Anecdotes. If he ever needed a sign telling him that these rich people had too much spare time on their hands, it was certainly that.


    He thought they spent their afternoons exchanging esoteric bits of information. That is until Lavisa revealed their true nature, causing him to laugh.


    “What?” she asked, confused.


    “That,” Taní said, snickering. “I didn’t know you were gullible.”


    “I most certainly am NOT. I simply appreciate the tales one could learn of while in the dark.”


    “You mean ghost stories?”


    Lavisa’s gaze drifted to the side. “If that is what you wish to call them, then yes…”


    “C’mon, don’t be shy. Everyone likes a good ghost story.” Taní grinned.


    She slowly turned to him; her cheeks dusted red. “Truly?”


    “Yeah. Danza and I traveled all over Corat?o, and with all the tourneys we went to, we’d have these big picnics with other Grazers. And once everyone was fed, we tossed around a bunch of scary stories to pass the time. The person with the best one got all the leftovers!”


    Lavisa’s eyes widened. “Truly?”


    “Grazers are big eaters. Plus, it’s a lot of fun, and we’d go until midnight.” Taní spared the hall-tall window on his left a glance. He could see it: The distant mass of mainland Corat?o. Home beyond that churning sea of deep blues and whitewash. “Grazers are pretty stubborn, but they’ve got the best stories. Sure, they’re a little over-exaggerated, but it’s nice pretending we’re bigger than we are. Makes everything seem more…impressive.”


    “And that is why I adore ghost stories so. I’ve my doubts, as does anyone, but there is value in entertaining the ethereal.”


    “Yeah. It helps you forget about your problems. Just…y’know. Reminds you there’s more to life than what’s in front of us.”


    “That we needn’t be ruled by a single thought.”


    Ruled by a single thought. What could possess someone to only think of one thing? Seemed pretty boring. Sometimes the past reared its ugly head, but he had better things to do than focus on nasty insults. He had to get stronger; stronger so that he could prove Danza''s apprenticing him wasn''t a mistake. That he wasn''t just some afterthought.


    Unsure of how else to respond, Taní uttered the stupidest question in his arsenal. “So, do you drink tea in the tea club?”


    “Yes,” Lavisa supplied, giggling, and what a delightful chime it was. “Though we often discuss the popular flavor of the month.”


    “Sounds…exciting?”


    “It is! Especially when we manage an eastern blend from the Wyrm Road. Did you know that the eastern brewing process uses…”


    Lavisa lectured him on the intricacies of brewing, blending, and hot versus cold tea as they flickered from Transmitter to Transmitter. She listed the tastiest treats to have with each blend, the perfect sugar-to-cream ratio, and, oddly enough, the kinds of cups to pour them in. Not just standard mugs, either. No, the nobility had to go the extra mile and have fine porcelain shipped from the Far East. A bit excessive, but that was his reality. One where people probably spent more than his mother made toiling in the field all for one shinier cup. What a fashion statement.


    Besides, it''s not like it changed the taste of the boiling leaf juice. He wasn’t stupid enough to savor the “subtle flavors” of barely sweet water. Nightsip was far superior and granted them a boost of energy when the moment called for it. He’d gladly drink one, three, no ten cups if Danza allowed it. Not that he would. The man only ever told him he’d get a heart attack.


    When they neared the Vlasalisk wing after ten minutes, Lavisa stopped with a blink. “Oh dear. I hope I didn’t bore you.”


    Taní shook his head. “Nah, I learned a lot of things. Better than Literature, I’ll say.”


    “I can’t imagine it’s all that difficult being better than torture personified,” she said.


    “Plus, you get to actually drink the thing you learn about. Don’t know if you knew this, but tomes aren’t exactly edible. Stuff’s stiffer than jerky.”


    “Oh!” Lavisa’s eyes brightened. “Would you be interested in joining?”


    “Nah, clubs’d just cut into my sleep schedule.”


    “We only meet twice a week.”


    “I dunno. Don’t wanna dedicate myself to more than I can handle.”


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    “Then I assume you’re not interested in joining the Association?”


    Taní eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not a recruiter, are you?”


    “Of course, not. I’m only—” Lavisa paused. She regarded him hesitantly, opened her mouth, and then glanced away. “I would’ve enjoyed having a familiar face around, that’s all.”


    Taní suppressed the unholy desire to run straight into a wall. Did his presence really mean that much to her? Here she was trying to invite him into her circles, and what did he say? That he preferred napping over spending time with her.


    “I’m…not sure about now,” Taní began softly, “but what about next semester? I just wanna get used to the flow of things. Go at my pace, y’know.”


    Lavisa dipped her head. “Of course.”


    “Besides, you must have tons of friends to keep you company. You’re a princess, right? Just use that status.”


    “I suppose you’re right.”


    Having nothing better to do, Taní accompanied Lavisa to the tea club’s room. He tried to think of interesting topics to discuss, though they never lasted more than a few sentences before they dipped into uncomfortable silence. Her eyes turned away from him.


    Great. Way to be a mood killer.


    They came across Innes and his entourage, and though Taní anticipated the prince’s obligatory abuse, he just scoffed and went his way. At least he hadn’t bristled.


    “Tan?o!”


    Taní yelped and zipped behind Lavisa. “I swear I didn’t hear anything!”


    “What?”


    Taní peeked over the princess’s side, and just as he feared, it was Canela. Her forehead creased with lines, and her capes wrinkled. They weren''t even fastened correctly.


    “Treasurer Canela. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Lavisa asked, her response measured as expected.


    “Move. I came to talk to Taní, not you,” the treasurer hissed, her voice cutting through the calm like a short-tempered blade.


    “I see.” Lavisa stepped out from her line of sight, exposing Taní to the cruel air of the Firmament.


    In the treasurer’s stead stood a frazzled, sweaty Déqoish girl. Her long, thick black hair curled in messy loops, almost like someone had dragged her out of bed kicking and screaming. Before Taní could make a break for it, Canela closed the distance, her fist low. “Taní.”


    Despite the overwhelming urge to shriek like a little girl, he remained composed. Somehow. “Y-Yeah? Do you need something?”


    “Where’s my brother?”


    Taní straightened. “Brother?”


    “My brother.” Canela’s festive eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “You know, the man who shares half my blood; the same man I haven’t seen for over a week! The very one whose garden you destroyed.”


    Lavisa shot him an inquisitive look. “Are you the garden grinder, by chance?”


    “The past is the past.” Taní waved nonchalantly. “No point in dredging it up.”


    Thankfully, Canela didn’t seem the least bit interested in detailing his sordid crime. “Tan?o,” she began again. “Have. You. Seen. My. Brother.”


    “Can’t say I have. And even if I did, don’t you two share the same Art class?”


    “That’s the thing. He hasn’t shown his face since—” She stopped as a burgundy blush immediately tinted her cheeks. “Well, I haven’t seen him in a while, alright? Don’t ask me questions.”


    Taní shrugged. “Maybe he’s sick.”


    “He’s of the third Awakening.”


    “But not a Full. Can still get sick. Maybe he doesn’t wanna pass it on?”


    “I’m of the second Awakening.”


    A spike of irritation probed at him. This was starting to sound more like an interrogation than a harmless question. “Then maybe he’s busy studying,” Taní assumed.


    Canela scoffed. “He’s never too busy for me.”


    “Look, Canela. I don’t know, okay? Go ask someone else. I’m busy.”


    She pressed forward, making him instinctively lean away from her heated blow. She never struck. “But I’ve already asked all of Fadénix! Including the Lady and Shade!”


    “Is there something going on between you two?” Taní asked, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “Did you get into a fight or something?”


    Canela’s eyes silvered. “I-I don’t know. He’s just been very distant lately, and the last time I tried talking to him, he just sounded…angry. Like he wanted to yell at me.” Her voice thinned with each word.


    Angry with her? What reason would her brother have to be cross? They were like fermented rice on a sticky Sun’s Peak day: Gooey and unbearable to be around. Had something happened behind the scenes? That, or her brother could be seeing someone, which might explain why he was avoiding her…


    As much as Taní wanted to entertain the notion, he needed to reassure her. So, he smiled. “C’mon, Canela. ?zar would never hate you.”


    The sorrow veiling Canela’s eyes shimmered. “Truly?”


    “Yeah. Maybe a little annoyed, but I get where he’s coming from. I’ve got siblings, too. They’re a handful, but I don’t hate them. Sometimes, you just need some space.”


    “But he— But I…” Canela’s eyes fell to her warm almond hands, her fingers pale compared to her dark complexion. Almost as if she’d been squeezing the edge of a table until her blood ran cold. “I don’t know. I thought we were—”


    “Thinkings not gonna help, Canela. Just relax. No point in running your mind round.” Taní caught the faint whispers of a trio of Fadenicians. “You’ve got friends, yeah? Why not hang with them?”


    Canela wrung her hands, a silvery band showing upon her ring finger. “I don’t wanna hang out with friends, I wanna be with him…”


    Taní sighed. Answers, answers, answers. He barely knew his way around the porcelain havens scattered throughout the academy (and he had spent an unhealthy amount of time mapping out every throne). What made her think he knew where her brother was? He could lie, but he knew that would only result in more trouble than it was worth.


    What do I do?


    “Treasurer Canela,” Lavisa said, breaking the strained silence, “would you care if I made a small donation?”


    Canela whipped around to face her, eyes wide. “R-Really?”


    “Yes. Though I’ve no interest in rumors, I’ve heard that Fadénix is in dire need of SG.”


    Canela drew her Brand. “How much would you like to give?”


    “Will three thousand suffice?” Lavisa asked.


    “Y-Yes! Of course!”


    They went through the process, and as quickly as Canela came, she vanished. Though not without offering Lavisa a curt bow. Once they were alone, Taní and Lavisa started for the tea club.


    “Hey,” he spoke, his eyes on the hall.


    “Hm?”


    “Thanks.”


    “Think nothing of it. She was beginning to wear on me.”


    Taní grinned. “Really?”


    “No,” Lavisa admitted, smirking. “It was, however, difficult being subjected to her mood. I’ve heard Fadenicians tend to be quite expressive. I suppose the rumors are true.”


    “What? You’ve never interacted with others outside your House?”


    “I’ve never felt the need to.”


    They stopped at the Vlasalisk food bar to pick up a snack, and though he received nasty looks from several students, none bothered to throw him out. Except for a red-haired Vlasalisk girl with a thick bandage covering her crooked nose. Not that her adamant attempts to repulse him would prevent him from purchasing a slice of his new true love…


    The divine, maximum flavor of their uber-sauced bread.


    Taní sank his teeth into a slice, enjoying the explosion of gooey, greasy flavors. Fruit, meat, and cheese…it was all the important food groups in one. Truly, there could be nothing healthier.


    Before Taní could finish God’s delectable treasure, he caught Lavisa’s unyielding stare. Tempted though he was to devour the rest in one go, Taní proferred the remnants to her. She feigned interest, eyelids shut in a display of complete indifference.


    Just as he withdrew his snack, something black flashed. Glancing at his palm, he found nothing. The innocuous, prim princess with all the grace of the queen, whom he often turned to for answers, now had her cheeks stuffed. She chewed with absolute delight, her lips curled into a smile broader than the crescent moon, and after she finished savoring the heavenly flavors, sighed.


    Lavisa licked off the excess sauce from her fingertips, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and uttered a soft and refined “thank you.” As if she hadn’t devoured the treat with all the manic fervor of a starved wolf.


    As they terminated into the wing, a shadow leapt from Taní’s blind spot. Its inky fangs curling as if prepared to strike.


    “Hey Tan-Tan. Wanna hang?”


    Taní almost jumped at the sudden explosion of noise. Jaster.


    The shadows peeled away from his jolly face. Toem.


    “Right now?” Taní asked, anger bleeding into his tone.


    “Yeah. It’s Fifthsday, so I thought we’d do something a little different.” Jaster grinned mischievously.


    “I’m kinda tired… Can we do something tomorrow?”


    “Nope. Gotta do it now!”


    Taní cocked a brow. “Why?”


    “Cuz I know where ?zar is.”