Arenya


    and Cartalis watched the rehearsal. Cartalis was not certain which of


    the two of them was more exhausted.


    The sword would be ready in two weeks’ time, according to


    Cartalis’ schedule. It accounted for unexpected mishaps, testing,


    Arenya’s art designs on the blade in accordance with Benya’s


    requests, and a post-straightening reforge. Cartalis’ parents said


    they would not need the money for several months, so even if


    something went disastrously wrong and forced them to start over,


    their schedule was excellent. Even so, Arenya’s desire to move


    quickly was strong enough that Cartalis scheduled out a brisk pace,


    but she nonetheless assured Arenya that a break of a day or two was


    well within reason.


    Within reason and necessary, both to accomplish their other


    requirements and to give their bodies and minds time to recover. Even


    as Benya’s sword loomed over their heads, Zelzad, Drav, and Ya’el’s


    concert was planned for a month and a half out. They’d put


    instrumentation to Arenya’s song and practiced some of their lines,


    and were eager to see what Arenya thought of it. Arenya’d wanted to


    continue to working on the blade after finishing imbuing the


    sixteenth channel, but Cartalis - and even Zander! - had insisted she


    get to her dorm room and get a good night’s sleep. Thankfully,


    Arenya saw reason and acquiesced without too much of a fuss.


    The instant Cartalis hit her own pillow she was fast asleep, and


    barely awoke in time for a quick breakfast before her first class.


    She’d barely managed to stay awake through her lectures, let alone


    take notes. Even if she’d been awake and alert, her hands ached


    from all the precise additions of mana dust and holding of small


    beakers and other measurement devices. Her vision swam as well, an


    unfortunate consequence of staring at so many tiny labels and minute


    bits of crystal dust. At least her hands hadn’t bled, she supposed.


    She hadn’t seen him, but the word had gone around that Zander had


    hurt his hands in a fistfight. She hoped that this was the result of


    other students’ rumormongering rather than Zander.


    Cartalis curled up on the bench as the band proceeded with their


    routine. She knew she should be paying closer attention, but she was


    so tired that even The Fiery One was too fast asleep to care much


    about anything other than some rest.


    Arenya, for her part, at least attempted to watch them, but she


    sat in a way that was a hair’s breadth from lying down, and


    occasionally closed her eyes for a bit too long to be just sinking


    into deep thought.


    Ya’el said something. Or did she yell it? Cartalis could not be


    certain. She didn’t stir as Arenya murmured something in response.


    “Uhh, hello?”


    Cartalis didn’t move, but she awoke herself enough to hear


    Arenya’s response. “Sorry, what was that?”


    "I asked if you liked how we were performing your song. The


    one that you wrote the lyrics for. The one we <i>just. Did.</i>


    “Oh. I was a bit tired and wasn’t paying much attention,


    sorry.”


    Perhaps “attempt to watch them” was too strong an expression.


    “Listen.” That was Zelzad. “Are you two all right? We know


    you worked yourselves hard yesterday, but you were almost done when


    we left. Cartalis, you said it’d only take another hour or two, so


    it wasn’t <i>that</i> late.”


    Finally, Cartalis uncurled herself and opened her eyes. The world


    seemed strangely bright after spending so long with her eyes closed.


    “It did indeed not take terribly much longer,” she said, “but


    it is exhausting work to make such precise measurements. A typical


    job of that nature would be done over several days, to avoid wrist


    and eye strain.”


    “Eight, you said, right?”


    Damned Arenya. Always proferring the information Cartalis hoped


    would stay secret. Now the three others would panic and fawn over the


    two of them like they were stray kittens.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    “You did <i>eight days</i> worth of work in one day?” Ya’el


    shook her head slowly. “Y’all need to chill before you work


    yourselves to death.”


    “We are <i>fine</i>,” said Cartalis.


    Drav sighed. “No, you aren’t. Arenya, you look like you’re


    on the verge of passing out. Cartalis, you <i>did</i> pass out. And


    Zander cut his fingers, even! You’re really acting super


    unhealthy right now.”


    The Fiery One emerged from her slumber for the briefest of


    instants. “It is no less healthy than your incessant smoking, at


    the least.”


    Zelzad winced, but Drav laughed. “Point taken. Maybe it’s a


    takes-one-to-know-one kind of thing. But either way, you two need to


    get back to your dorms.”


    Cartalis looked down. At the bench, at her legs, at her feet…


    She felt a subtle ache in her legs as she stood.


    “I’d rather stay.”


    They all turned toward Arenya, who’d adopted Cartalis’ former


    curled-up position. “I think I’d rest better if I were around


    people,” she said. “I don’t really want to, you know, <i>do</i>


    much. But just being around others would help some. Like it did


    yesterday.”


    Zelzad cast her an aside glance. “You sure?”


    Arenya nodded. “I need rest. You’re right. But I don’t want


    to be alone. Just being here, hearing others talk, is good for me.


    Can I just stay here while you continue to practice?”


    Zelzad shrugged. “You do you, I guess.”


    “I, on the other hand, will return to my dorms. I suspect a soft


    bed is what I need right now.” Cartalis chose not to mention that


    she’d been sleeping in that same bed yesterday and it hadn’t


    helped yet. It’s not like everyone here was not already aware,


    regardless. “I shall see you all tomorrow,” she said as she


    walked towards the door.


    “Cartalis, you look like you’re practically limping,” said


    Zelzad. Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?"


    Cartalis shook her head. “I can handle myself. Good night to all


    present here. I shall see you all tomorrow.”


    Ba’al Cedric’s remained crowded this early in the evening.


    Students returning from evening classes to grab dinner, or walking to


    nowhere as they flirted with their significant others. Most gave her


    a wide berth, thankfully. Unlike Arenya, she was finding the social


    contact to tire her more, not less. She did notice a handful of askew


    looks, however. The legendary Cartalis, <i>tired</i>? Not taking


    notes in class? <i>Almost falling asleep</i>? They said she never


    slept, only studied, and would break the leg of any who interrupted


    her with nothing more than an angry look. She couldn’t help but


    laugh to herself at the absurdity of the image, not caring that she


    must look half a step from pure insanity at the moment.


    After nearly losing her balance to a wet patch of sidewalk by the


    school’s fountain, Cartalis paused, looking at the gushing water,


    and found herself wondering if perhaps she should have taken the


    offer of a walk home after all. Anything more than a three meters


    away looked a bit blurry as well, it seemed. She stared at the water,


    thinking of the way it flowed. Like mana into the metal sample - both


    were fluids, she supposed, and both had no particular spatial


    property. Perhaps if she investigated mana in its liquid form, she


    could refine the process some. It was typical to use either mana in


    crushed crystals, or ambient mana in a gaseous form, but it could be


    stored as a liquid as well, albeit with some difficulty. Why was this


    done so rarely? Perhaps this was a question to ask Kazurist…


    Her head hurt. For once in her life, she desperately wanted to not


    think about mana or research, at least for a bit. All she wanted now


    was to lie down and think about nothing.


    But then why couldn’t she move? Why was she stuck, sitting here,


    staring at this fountain, when her dorm room was so close? When did


    she even start sitting? Last she could remember, she was standing.


    Why was she sitting on the ground instead of on the bench so close,


    at least? Was walking truly that difficult at this point? Was she


    really that tired? Maybe Cartalis was just lazy. Maybe the idea of


    putting in any kind of effort for anything at all right now was too


    much, even effort as simple as walking a handful of steps.


    “You all right?”


    “I’m fine.”


    “Are you sure?”


    “I am. Thank you for your concern.”


    It was ten seconds longer before Cartalis realized a student had


    actually approached her and asked if she needed something. Surely


    someone who had just started, who hadn’t heard the rumors. She


    turned to see the person walking away, but couldn’t tell who’d


    said it from the crowd. None looked like they were lost or


    unfamiliar, though.


    Maybe someone thought they could get some added respect from their


    friends by being able to help out the Blond Ice Queen. Maybe her


    reputation was beginning to soften after a year and a half.


    Maybe she just looked terribly confused or upset, staring at the


    fountain shock-still while sitting on the ground, so much so that


    even someone who knew her reputation was too taken aback to withhold


    an offer of assistance.


    Could she really look that out of sorts?


    Cartalis stood and nearly collapsed in the process, before turning


    her eyes toward Serpent Wing. Just a few more steps and she would be


    able to collapse into her bed, where none would bother her.


    Just a few more steps.