Taní came out of his slumber with a deep groan. He really didn’t want to wake up, but the noise from those two was impossible to ignore. Just a nonstop stream of sobs, rustling, and creaking, like someone was throwing themselves against a bed.


    “I swear, it’s too early for this…” Taní muttered to himself.


    “It’s near noon, D’Histell.”


    Taní’s eyes fluttered open. That musty clean smell, the droning of waves crashing in the distance, and the curtain rendered partially transparent with sunshine...


    He was in the nurse’s office.


    Taní turned to the speaker and found Eleanor sitting at the table nearby, gaze set on the slot between the partitions. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and though her lids must’ve weighed like anchors, her saffron-chambray pools remained alert. Fear alone must''ve kept them peeled.


    She was dressed in her regalia again (or at least a lookalike), and though she wore no weapon, her sword hand squeezed the air with a hammer grip. Loose, but not so much as to allow a blade to slip from her hold.


    “Eleanor?” he murmured.


    She spared him no glance, her eyes trained on the gap for any hint of a disturbance. “Yes?”


    “How long’ve I been asleep?”


    “You’ve been drifting in and out for the last two days,” Eleanor said.


    Taní shot up and immediately regretted it. “T-Two days?”


    “Yes, though I’d advise you refrain from such sudden jolts. It''s best you not aggravate your leg while it’s mending.”


    The pieces slowly assembled themselves in Taní’s mind. After Eleanor had saved him from death’s clutches, she had spirited him to the first floor. He tried riding on her back, but every time his leg bounced, it would launch him into another muscle-straining fit, his uniform being caked in sweat before long. She offered to hold him in her arms, though that only resulted in a similar discomfort.


    Each step stretched for two, and by the time they reached the winding stairwell that connected the floors, he wanted nothing more than to die. He couldn’t recall much beyond that. Only Eleanor as she sat him down on a pile of rubble, grimaced, then, after a heated debate with herself, turned away. She...apologized to him? Then...then...


    The unmistakable blur of motion took him by surprise, and in that instant, the world went dark.


    “Wait…” Taní finally realized. “You knocked me out, didn’t you?”


    Eleanor’s lips dipped into a slight frown. “I… Given the circumstances, I only did what I thought appropriate.”


    “By clubbing me?”


    “I’ve no regrets, Taní. I did not wish to prolong your suffering.”


    So, she avoided prolonging his suffering by adding to it? Frustrated as he wanted to be, he saw the logic in it. That, and if he were in her place, he would’ve done the same thing.


    “Well, at least there’s no drain bamage.”


    Eleanor turned to him, creases marring her forehead.


    “Ah…that joke didn’t pass well, did it?” He grinned sheepishly.


    “I’d prefer you eschew such black comedy while you recover.”


    “Yeah…sorry…”


    Taní averted his gaze from Eleanor’s, his eyes landing on the table beside her. Sugary treats and fruit-flavored cans littered the surface. Two of them were open, though he imagined she had used the boost to help carry her through the grueling hours of the night.


    He couldn’t read others well, they always seemed to be off in their own little worlds and thinking things that just proved all his assumptions wrong, but if someone had bothered to keep watch over him, even for a single night, then that had to mean they cared. Even if a little. Wanting to make her feel welcomed, he asked, “You don’t have anything better to spend your SG on, do you?”


    Eleanor frowned. “I do not partake of sweets as often you as may think, Taní.”


    “You sure? I dunno why, but you strike me as the sweet-tooth type.”


    “I suppose I was during my youth, though that time’s long since passed. Besides, burning those calories is more trouble than it’s worth.”


    Taní opened his mouth, then hesitated. He wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate question to ask, but she kinda looked the part, and he wondered if she had ever attended the Academy in the past. He knew that wasn''t the case for many instructors. Many were accomplished warriors, or at least in some position of power in the greater Juries. “Eleanor?” he called.


    She inclined her head. “Yes?”


    “How old are you?”


    “Thirty-five.”


    “And you’re still not married?”


    A beet-red blush stained the Tyrian’s cheek. “I-It is completely inappropriate to inquire about a woman’s private life, D’Histell!”


    “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that. Was just curious since you’ve been here for years.” He gestured at the room.


    “Yes, well. I’ve little reason to stray from Hierrsé Isle. Doing so implies that something’s gone awry. As for my academic responsibilities, they leave me with little time to pursue a…romantic endeavor. Not that I’ve any desire to seek one out.”


    “But doesn’t that make you lonely?”


    “Pardon?”


    Taní pressed his covers away. “My mother used to say that when we got older, we got lonelier. Siblings leave, friends start families, and that one neighbor you used to say hi to every morning isn’t there anymore. That’s why people find hobbies: Cuz it gives them something to feel happy about.” Taní’s gaze shifted to his blanket. “Danza’s old. Probably the oldest person I know, but he used to tell me how boring life was before I joined. Those were only three years, really, but…I dunno. Hearing it made me happy. Even a little special."


    A pensive shadow crossed Eleanor’s features. There, deep within the depths of her ocean-colored eyes, he spotted a glint. One that bridged the connection between dejection and regret.


    It came to him, that instinct. Despite all he endured, it came to him. And so he asked, “Master Sanrevelle?”


    She turned her shoulder to him, her voice a ghost of a murmur. “Yes?”


    “I dunno if anyone’s ever told you this, but…I like being around you. I do.”


    “…Truly?”


    “Yeah, I think you’re amazing.”


    Eleanor let out a light huff, the tension in her shoulders ready to snap. “I see.”


    “Seriously! You’re...well, you''re a great teacher, you can wield a relic, and you’re pretty. Probably even the prettiest teacher in school!” Taní exclaimed.


    She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you—Do you truly mean that?”


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    “Yeah! You just need to get more sleep in.”


    Eleanor shut her eyes before nodding to herself. It was nearly imperceptible, but he could see it. The slight curl of her lips.


    Taní smiled. It wasn’t as perfect as Lavisa’s, but the look was great in its own way. After the moment had passed, his mind wandered to his final memories of that Labyrinth dive. Namely, the sword.


    Taní inquired about D’Arcy’s Spine, and though Eleanor appeared reluctant to reveal its secret, she explained the various effects of the sword. A secret privy to the Lord and Shade of House Dragonfang. Because she wasn''t aligned with a House, she was under no obligation to keep the secret. Yes, she couldn''t go selling the information, but it seemed there was a special case to be made with students. At least, incapacitated ones. Or those the school thought incapacitated.


    Why she trusted him, he didn’t know, but she seemed happy just to have someone to talk to. He''d ensure the secret wouldn''t leak.


    As for the specifics of the saber? Its blade favored a coating of vile poison that eroded anything it brushed, and it also possessed a phantom edge that could strike someone fifty yards away. She didn’t elaborate on how these features functioned. In fact, her explanation gave him the distinct impression that she believed he already knew how said relics operated.


    The effects of the scabbard, however, were unparalleled. Not because of its make, but because it acted as a shield with a mind of its own. Somehow, it knew where an attack would land, so it took the most optimal path to meet it. With or without the user’s knowing. She called it a deviation of precognition. He didn''t know what the word meant, but it sounded funny.


    “And the blast?” Taní asked, shifting forward with a wiggle. “What about that?”


    Eleanor cocked an amused brow. “Are you referring to The Dragon’s Breath? D’Histell, that is but the Spine’s most potent ability. A God-devouring wave of supreme destruction that eliminates all from this realm. Sentient or not.”


    “It even sounds cool! And you can use it whenever you want?”


    “No. As you will soon come to learn, there are various stages of Synthesis one can achieve. Partial being common among them. When an individual has achieved complete Synthesis, they’re blessed with a boon of physical enhancement. Not to mention a complete unburdening of its Order. There is, however, one last stage beyond that.”


    Taní tilted his head as best he could while lying down. “But it’s already complete. What can be better than that?”


    “Tell me, Taní: What do you do when you’ve nothing more to learn?”


    “I dunno. Just keep practicing. That’s what Danza used to tell me.”


    “And there’s a reason for that.” She crossed her legs. “You see, learning concerns more than reaching the end of a unit. It is about digesting the information and translating it into a palatable form. One that can lead to greater discoveries than initially intended. Aligning your mindset to its original wielder isn’t what makes you great, it is how you redefine and build upon their ideas that sets you apart from them.”


    Taní choked as an oppressive wave of heat slammed into him. The space around Eleanor’s hand collapsed, forming the first strokes of D’Arcy’s Spine.


    “Though she was a master fencer, she did not intend to bathe her blade in the scarlet hues of the Juneac?o. It was only through her disciple’s granddaughter that the weapon took on new life. Rather, it became an omen of what’s to come should our hearts remain clouded.”


    “And that is?” Taní asked, his tight throat itching.


    Eleanor dispelled the nascent conjuration with a wave. “Destruction. This simple revelation led to an ascended state of Synthesis that not only recontextualized the weapon’s identity but also its power.”


    “Wait…can this happen to other relics?”


    “Yes. One needs not overexcite themselves, however, as few ever reach partial Synthesis, and fewer reach complete. When—”


    “YOU."


    They whipped around to face nurse Ylissa. Hunched against the partition, she clutched her throat. Chest heaving for breath.


    “I know it was you! How many times do I have to tell you: Stop summoning your relic in and around my office!” Her high-strung shrill rang in his ears.


    Eleanor gave a polite bow of her head. “My apologies, nurse Ylissa.”


    “I don’t want your bloody apologies, dragoncheeks! I want you to stop killing the students I’m treating! Did you know that I almost DIED swallowing fish now?”


    Jaster poked his head out from the side. All grins. “Hey Tan-Tan, finally awake?”


    The nurse groaned. “And now you’re here.”


    “Tan?o?”


    Taní perked up as a third figure joined the fold. Her heart-stuttering mane of salmon-flax hanging above the Nimmian''s.


    Lavisa.


    “Hey, kid, if you’ve got a problem, wait by the door. I don’t need—" The nurse did a double take before jumping at the sight of the princess. “O-Oh! Your highness! How may I—”


    Lavisa lifted a prim hand. “Water, please.”


    “Y-Yes! Rig—”


    “And make it enough for everyone.”


    A choked, miserable whine escaped Ylissa’s lips, but she bowed all the same. The office’s peace—or as much peace as an office could have—returned to Taní’s cramped slice. He didn’t enjoy the nearby sniffles, but at least the squeaking had stopped.


    Jaster and Lavisa squeezed through the divide, their expressions etched with concern.


    “Still in one piece?” the Nimmian probed, stopping by the treats innocuously.


    Taní glanced at his foot. “They tried taking one, but it didn’t work out.”


    “Probably didn’t like the taste. You don’t shower too good.”


    Taní and Jaster shared a chuckle.


    Neither Lavisa nor Eleanor offered a remark, though judging by their taut lips, they weren’t fans. When Jaster had nothing more to share, the princess closed the distance, stopping shortly before his bed.


    “Tan?o… Are you well?” Lavisa inquired, her voice barely breaking past a whisper.


    “You kidding? I’m three for four! That’s way better than what I expected to walk away with.”


    “You mean crawl?” the Nimmian corrected.


    Taní bounced a lazy finger up and down. “I’d call it more of a hobble.”


    Lavisa shot the Nimmian a disapproving glare. A look he quickly understood as he backed away. His hands spread.


    When Lavisa turned back to Taní, she hesitated. Her eyes gradually drifted to the splint on his right leg.


    “Tan?o, I—” Her voice broke. She refused to meet his gaze, but try as she might, she could not hide her silvering eyes. In a brittle voice that reminded him of his mother speaking at his father’s shrine, Lavisa continued. “Forgive me. I’ve failed. Not only as your senior but as heir to our nation. Although you may believe otherwise, a sovereign fights for the benefit of their subjects as much as they their ruler. I cannot sit idly by while others sacrifice themselves for me, yet you?” Lavisa hung her head remorsefully. “You never once faltered. Not for us, not when I believed ?zar far gone. Hope was all you had, yet you made better use of it than I would with a blade.”


    Taní shrugged, his shoulders brushing the pillow. “I just improvised.”


    “Yet your improvisation saved a life. Few can claim that fortune.”


    “Guess I’m just lucky.”


    “Yes…” Her voice cracked into a whine that cut him to the core. “You are… You bloody idiot.”


    Taní glanced at Jaster and Eleanor for support, but they swiftly averted their gazes, adopting a nonchalant attitude. Great. When he needed their aid most, they pretended everything was fine.


    Taní struggled to cobble together a proper response, and when his poor diplomatic skills eluded him, scrounged for a joke. Some of them were ones she’d already heard, but she never seemed to mind when he recited them. She even laughed harder, if he was lucky.


    No, she deserved better than this. Taní sifted through his memories of the old woman reading from her book after supper. Great as they were, they failed to meet his demands. A few crude words could never reassure one such as her. So what would be enough? What could cheer her without feigning ignorance?


    “Tan?o…” Lavisa’s thinning voice broke through his barrier of thoughts.


    Taní’s heart lurched, yet even then, he offered her his usual smile. Taxing as it was. “Yeah?”


    “I would be more than happy to provide you with a recommendation should you desire to transfer Houses. The courage you’ve displayed has earned you the honor of being branded a Vlasalisk. Valtar would be proud.”


    There it was. The ticket he''d been hoping for; the change that''d lead to an easy life. One where everyone respected him, and he was feared simply for being a part of something so much greater than himself.


    His response came without a moment''s delay. Firm and ready.


    “Nah, I’m fine with my House.”


    Lavisa blinked, her lavender-sapphire eyes brimming with moisture. “Come again?”


    “Yeah. I’ve gotten used to getting around. Plus, I really don’t wanna memorize another layout." Taní traced a rough draft of the second floor as best he could. It was just a circle, but he liked the little slice he came from. Even if everyone else didn''t. "I think I’m good with Fadénix. For the time being, that is."


    It was a partial truth. Taní enjoyed the few individuals he interacted with on the daily, but more than that, he had a soft spot for the den of misfits. That, and he couldn’t imagine being treated any better no matter where he went. Best to remain as the garden grinder than a wannabe Juneac?o.


    “Tan?o.”


    Before Taní had an opportunity to respond, Lavisa placed a delicate hand on his chest, the warmth spreading through his body like a soothing balm. The shadow fell, his pulse quickening as the pleasant moisture of her lips cooled his damp brow. Like a dream, she held the kiss for several breathtaking seconds. And in those several, ever-lasting, eternal moments of absolute bless, he wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle.


    Lavisa drew away, but this time, she no longer bore that wistful expression. In its stead, she wore a grateful beam. One as radiant as all the vines in the world.


    “When we come of age, I shall make room for you in my court. I swear upon this with all my honor.”


    Taní stared at her, his stomach reduced to a giddy tide of swirling pops. Just looking at her made him feel like he was going to burst, but the heat in his cheeks? That was the worst.


    He glanced at Jaster, who threw him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Eleanor, noticing this, slapped his hands down, silently scolding the Nimmian.


    Taní, however, just nodded dumbly. “I-I’d be honored.”


    “No, Tan?o. It is you who honors me.”