Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aelwyn knocks on Adaine’s door and is immediately greeted with a textbook pitched her way. She ducks to the side and glares inside at her sister, who is angrily adjusting her glasses and scowling back at her.

“Good gods, someone’s irritable today.”

“I’m studying,” Adaine huffs. The calendar on her wall reads early summer. A soon upcoming date is circled in frantic red ink. “Shouldn’t you be packing? So you can leave already?”

“So I gathered,” Aelwyn responds coolly and lets herself in. “And I was, when I found this, and thought you might want it.” She produces a dark-covered notebook from behind her back and holds it out. Adaine glares at it, then back at her sister’s face.

“What’s this?”

“What does it look like? It’s a notebook.”

“I don’t need your help,” Adaine huffs and turns roughly back around to her desk. Aelwyn rolls her eyes and grunts.

“Nine hells, you certainly don’t make it easy to be a good sister.” 

“Bite me.”

Aelwyn thinks for a minute before giving in; there was no battling Adaine’s stubbornness, especially when she’s as stressed as this. “If you don’t want to use my notes to study from, you can rip them out and use the rest of the pages for your own. How about that?” No response; she only sees the back of Adaine’s head, but she can tell at least she’s being listened to. Aelwyn sighs and sets the notebook down on the bed. “Well, I’ll leave it here for you in case you change your mind.” She turns and leaves the room. She catches the briefest glimpse of her sister turning back to look as she rounds the corner and disappears down the hall, out of sight.

The wonderful thing about being 16 (finally) is being allowed out of sight, out of mind of her parents, for once. Aelwyn revels in the summer sunshine -- even if it is filtered through the cool mist and winds of the Fallinese mountains. With her father shut away in political meetings all day and her sister and mother shut up in exams a continent away, Aelwyn finally has freedom -- or a taste of it, anyway. The freedom to walk the streets and climb the rooftops. The freedom to eat what she wants and wear what she likes. The freedom to meet other teenagers like her, and to truly act her age. The freedom to find some like-minded elven teen, lacking in brains but more than making up for it in body, and doing with them what teenagers do, for better or for worse. If the price to be paid is being interrupted mid-makeout session one day with a Sending spell from her father informing them they must return to Elmville early, have to cut her little vacation short, then surely it is a worthy price for the sweet taste of what she got while she could. 

It’s afternoon when Aelwyn and her father return to the Elmville runeport, and evening when their chauffeur pulls into their driveway at home. (Why her father didn’t simply teleport them both directly to the house is beyond her reasoning, and beyond her good sense to bother to ask.) Her mother meets them inside when they enter through the front door, stately and stern. She brings Aelwyn in for a quick kiss on her head to welcome her back before ushering Aelwyn off to her room to unpack. As Aelwyn makes her way wordlessly up the stairs, she glances back and catches sight of her mother frowning, sighing, and holding up a packet of papers. 

“We must have a talk,” she says to her husband, setting the papers down on the table. They land with a quiet thwump. Her father’s jaw sets into something unpleasant and simmering.

She doesn’t hear any more of their conversation as she slinks through the hall to her room. She does hear a sound from Adaine’s room, and she pauses to press her ear against the door. Hiccups and hitched breaths and incessant sniffling. 

Late that night, when she’s sure her parents are trancing soundly, Aelwyn sneaks downstairs. She easily finds the packet of papers from before -- remarkably right where her mother had left them before. Not a good sign.

She picks up the pages, turns them over one by one, absorbing their contents. Arithmetic, 60. Common, 73. Elvish, 70. History, 64. Abj, cnj, div, ech, evo, ilu, nec, trn: 62, 54, 96, 47, 71, 64, 50, 58. 

Aelwyn sets the pages back down on the table exactly as she found them and sneaks back to her room. 

In the morning she returns downstairs to find her parents arguing over the breakfast table. Adaine is still in her room. (At least she’s quiet now.) She greets her parents with a reverential “Hello, Mother, hello, Father,” and takes her place at the table silently. 

“Aelwyn, dear, the driving instructor will be here at 9. Do make sure you are ready by then,” her mother informs.

“Yes, Mother,” Aelwyn responds obediently. The Abernants were far too busy, far too important, far too wealthy to bother teaching their own children how to drive. Aelwyn doesn’t mind; she rather prefers her private driving lessons. No parents, no sister, just the pedal under her foot and the wheel in her hands. Soon she’ll have enough hours logged to get her license. Soon she’ll taste freedom again. Not the same freedom as in Fallinel, but almost as sweet. Still craveworthy. She thinks about how nice it will be to be back behind the wheel as she eats her breakfast, almost so focused on her daydream as to tune out her parents’ slightly hushed discussion. (“...re-take it.” “The board will never allow it. Not with those numbers.” “Why can’t you--” “Abuse my position on the faculty? Darling, I couldn’t. She hasn’t earned…”) Almost. 

When she returns from her driving lesson a few hours later, her parents are out of the house. It’s quiet, but not empty. She pauses as she passes by her sister’s room in the upstairs hall. It’s closed, but not locked. 

“Adaine?” she says. No response. She gently pushes the door open and peers in. The desk, a mess. Bookshelf unkempt. Clutter all over the room. And her sister, lying facedown on her bed, for gods know how long. Aelwyn sighs and speaks up again. “Adaine.”

“Go away,” Adaine responds, muffled through the pillow she’s firmly pressing her face into. It’s biting, like usual, but a lot less so.

“Adaine, this is unbecoming, you--” Aelwyn begins.

“So is everything I do!” Adaine interrupts, sitting up suddenly and turning to glare sharply at her sister. Her face is red and puffy. Her pillow is damp. Aelwyn steps back, slightly startled. 

“Well, what even happened?”

Adaine’s face contorts in spite and she jerks her head away. “Like you don’t already know.”

“It’s just an exam.”

Adaine scoffs bitterly. “That’s easy for you to say.” A silence hangs in the air between them for a minute before she continues in a much softer voice, “I don’t know what they’re going to do to me.”

There is an uneasy quiet for another short while. “...Well, there’s always Mumple,” Aelwyn suggests. Adaine’s face contorts in rage again and she lets out a furious growl, lunging forward and throwing her fist at her sister’s face. “Woah!” Aelwyn gasps, dodging and backing out of the room out of reach before she’s punched.

“GET OUT!!” Adaine roars and slams the door in her face.

In the car, Aelwyn cranks windows down and the radio up. She lets the sound and the wind rush through her hair, feels the sun on her face, screams the lyrics out loud like no one is listening. For all she knows, no one is. She has her license and it’s summer. Sure, now that she’s old enough and responsible enough to drive, she’s given tasks befitting of her age and responsibility: run errands, pick up groceries, get the dry cleaning, drop off this or that important document at the post office. She’s never too far from her parents’ reach, but at least the tether stretches further. She wishes she could stretch it until it snaps, and cranks the radio up just a little louder. 

Any time spent out of the house is a good time, as far as Aelwyn is concerned. Her sister still spends most of the time moping around at home, although if Aelwyn is being well and truly honest, she can’t say she blames the poor girl. Aelwyn certainly doesn’t know what she would’ve done if she’d failed her entrance exam to Hudol’s upper school. How embarrassing; not just for herself, but for the whole family. And Mother is a professor!  

And Mother and Father, hardly able to bring themselves to look at their youngest without disgust or contempt. Of course, if Aelwyn is being well and truly honest, she can’t say she blames them either. Aelwyn certainly doesn’t know what else she would do if she had such a let down for a child herself. 

And what to do with her is still the question on everyone’s mind. Hudol is out of the question; Mumple is still technically an option, however hideous it is. (“No matter how disappointing she is, no daughter of mine will be sent to a public school,” she’d heard her father sneer contemptuously. Her mother had nodded in agreement.) Or returning to Fallinel: surely Father’s status could get her into a state school. (Or a reform school, if perhaps Father got his way. Mother was not quite as keen on this idea.)

The discussions feel incessant. Any time Aelwyn can get in the car and go, leave behind the tension thick in the household air, if only for a while, is a good time. She wishes she could make it go away for good somehow. 

Maybe she’ll find a way. Maybe she’ll be clever enough, or lucky enough, to find a solution to their problems. Maybe. She puts her foot to the gas and speeds through the streets of Elmville, in search of her freedom.

Chapter Text

The first time, Aelwyn is sitting in a park. It’s sunny and she is on the other side of town from home. She picked a bench just off the path, with a view of the pond and the dappled sunlight filtering through the shade of an elm tree. She is reading, and she glances up from her book to notice a black tabaxi woman sitting on the bench beside her.

“Um,” she starts. “Excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” the tabaxi says. She doesn’t seem bothered.

“I was sitting here,” Aelwyn says again. Her fingers tense and ease on the pages of her book. 

“I can see that.” The tabaxi woman looks almost amused, if Aelwyn has to take a guess. 

Aelwyn clears her throat as the woman won’t seem to take a hint. “Will you please leave?” she asks, with her manners but not her patience. 

The tabaxi’s tail flicks and she seems to smile a little. “No, I like it here. I think I’ll stay.”

Frustrated and annoyed, Aelwyn shuts her book, huffs, and stands. Without another word she turns and walks off, not giving another glance back at the bench and the tabaxi.

At home, the custom is to speak not unless spoken to during meals. Adaine is finally joining them at the table again -- whether she’d decided herself that she’d spent enough time moping in her room or their parents were finally allowing it, Aelwyn isn’t sure. At the dinner table, Adaine keeps her head down and eats while their parents discuss things like she isn’t even there.

“...simply no discipline in her for research.” 

“There are other options. Advising, perhaps. Or theory.” 

“You saw her scores. There’s little hope for a future in magic for her.” 

“Yes, yes…” 

Their father sighs and looks across the table. “Why couldn’t she be more like Aelwyn, hm?” he asks. Aelwyn looks up from her plate as Adaine sinks a little lower. “Really, she couldn’t have a better role model in the house to ask for.”

Aelwyn swallows her bite of food and sits up a little straighter. “Thank you, Father.”

“There’s a good girl.”

The second time, Aelwyn is standing in line at a cafe. There are a few people in line ahead of her, and she is typing on her crystal as she waits. She swipes between her web browser and notes app, copying down the names of boarding schools around Solace.

“Somebody flunked out, huh?” The voice is familiar. Aelwyn whips her head around to find the same tabaxi woman standing behind her, smirking. She hastily clicks the power button on her crystal and shuts the screen off. 

“It’s you again,” Aelwyn says, not too pleased. The tabaxi grins at her. Aelwyn frowns. “Don’t look at my crystal screen,” she warns.

“You don’t strike me as a dropout,” the tabaxi says, ignoring her. 

“I’m not.”

“You seem like a smart young girl.”

“I am.” 

“Smart, and perceptive.” 

Aelwyn narrows her eyes in suspicion. The tabaxi grins and nods her chin at something behind her. Aelwyn turns to look, and finds the people in front of her in line have finished ordering and stepped aside. The barista blinks at her and the awkwardly long space between them and asks “Can I take your order, miss?” 

Aelwyn chews on her lip and glances back at the tabaxi briefly before closing the space to the counter. “Medium iced caramel latte,” she orders.

“Can I get a name, miss?” 

“Aelwyn.” The barista scribbles on the cup and sets it aside. Aelwyn drops the requisite coins on the counter to pay, then walks over to the other side of the counter and pulls her crystal out again, waiting to be served. 

“What are the odds they spell it wrong?” the tabaxi woman asks with a joking tone. Aelwyn looks up from her screen again and sees her waiting beside her again. The tabaxi smirks. “Elven names, huh? Always seem to trip up the humans.”

“We’re not friends,” Aelwyn responds pointedly. 

The tabaxi’s ears flick. “Well, we could be.”

“Not interested.”

She chuckles. “We’ll see about that, kid.”

Aelwyn scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean? You--” she starts. The tabaxi nods again to the counter just as the barista brings over a drink and calls her name. Aelwyn pauses a beat, then retrieves her cup. The pen scribbled on reads “Eilwen.”

“What’d I tell you?” the tabaxi says, still grinning. Aelwyn glares at her before walking out of the cafe. She does glance back this time just before she’s out the door, and finds that the tabaxi is nowhere in sight. 

Aelwyn walks past Adaine’s room and notices the door is open. She peeks in and sees that the room is empty. Their parents are both at work, but she doesn’t know where her sister is right now. She pushes the door open a little wider and steps inside. 

Adaine’s room is meticulous. Maybe she spent all that time while she was shut in and crying organizing things. The bookshelf is tidy again. The bed is neatly made with the covers and pillows arranged like a magazine spread. Her pens and ink are lined up on her desk, up against the wall and beside her lamp. The calendar on the wall has no scribbles on it, just a line crossed through each day already passed. A dark-covered notebook sits in the middle of the desk, and it’s one that Aelwyn recognizes. She flips it open and sees ripped paper edges in the front, and scribbles of notes covering the first dozen or so pages from margin to margin.

Aelwyn’s ears flick as she hears the floor creak. She turns her head just in time to see her sister throw a Ray of Frost her way, and to throw up her own Shield spell to counter it.

“What are you doing in my room?” Adaine demands, freezing mist still radiating off her hands. 

Aelwyn shakes her wrist out as her Shield dissipates in fracturing runes. “Nothing, I--”

Adaine’s eyes dart to the desk and she sees Aelwyn’s hand on her notebook. She lets out a loud and angry noise and rushes over, yanking the notebook away, slamming it shut, and clutching it to her chest. “Don’t go through my stuff,” she warns, glaring. 

Aelwyn frowns, annoyed, and holds her hands up. “Gods, it’s like you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Adaine protests.

“Then what? Are you embarrassed that my kind gesture actually helped?” Aelwyn shoots back, eyes on the notebook.

Adaine thrusts one arm out and points sternly at the door. “Out,” she demands. Her face is simmering with rage.

Still holding her hands up, Aelwyn rolls her eyes and obeys, crossing the room and making her way over to the door. “Lovely to chat with you as always, little sister,” she says sarcastically. Adaine shoves her the last bit of the way out the door and slams it shut behind her. 

The third time, Aelwyn is at the mall. Another perk of being the golden child of the Abernant household was spending money; Adaine was rarely allowed an allowance, but Aelwyn could be trusted. Aelwyn would be responsible. Aelwyn would know how to use it. 

(Maybe retail therapy wasn’t the best way to deal with her problems, but it sure did feel nice. It was more about getting out of the house, anyway.)

She’s examining a rack of sundresses when she hears the tabaxi’s voice again: irritatingly confident and lightly condescending. “Hello, Aelwyn.”

Aelwyn scowls at the tabaxi. “Is this going to become a regular thing with you?” she grumbles. Her irritation hides how off-put she feels. 

“Could be,” the tabaxi shrugs and comes closer. Aelwyn eyes her, guarded. “You can drop the venom, kiddo, I’m not gonna bite you.”

Aelwyn thinks about asking how she knows her name. Aelwyn thinks about asking how she keeps finding her. Aelwyn thinks about asking why she keeps bothering her. 

Maybe she waits too long to ask anything, because the tabaxi’s ears flick and she says, “Alright, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Let me introduce myself properly. You can call me Kalina.” 

“Okay, Kalina,” Aelwyn says, still cautious. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“Can’t be bothered to just have a nice conversation once in a while?” Kalina says. Aelwyn eyes her coldly. She shrugs. “Alright, not one for small talk, I can see. You want to get right to the point.” She punctuates her statement by sticking out a thumb and pointing it at something over her shoulder. Aelwyn follows the line of sight and spies a teenage couple, a brown-haired half-elf girl browsing the clothing racks and a blond human boy standing beside her.

Aelwyn looks back at Kalina, unimpressed. “What about them?”

Kalina motions towards the couple. “Come on, you’re perceptive, kid. What’s interesting about them?”

Aelwyn squints, annoyed. “Nothing.” Kalina waits for a real answer. Aelwyn rolls her eyes and continues. “A preppy popular girl and her jock boyfriend. Probably both a tremendous bore to deal with. Is that all?”

“What’s the jock wearing?” Kalina prompts. Aelwyn glances him over again.

“An Owlbears bloodrush jacket.”

“And where do the Owlbears call home?” 

“Aguefort,” Aelwyn says slowly. 

“Smart girl. I knew you could figure it out.”

“Don’t patronize me.” 

Kalina folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. Aelwyn squints at her for a moment before exhaling in annoyance and walking over. She approaches in time to hear the girl ushering her boyfriend off to the changing room with a polo shirt and telling him to “go try it on, it’ll look good on you.” As he nods and goes, Aelwyn clears her throat.

“Erm, hi,” she speaks up. 

The brunette looks her over. She raises an eyebrow. “Hi.”

“Sorry. This is--” Aelwyn starts, scoffing at herself. “Do you by chance go to the Aguefort Adventuring Academy?”

“I do,” the girl says, looking Aelwyn over again. “You go to…?”

“Hudol,” Aelwyn answers.

“I could have guessed,” the brunette says. Her smirk is grating. “Wizard, I presume.”

“Correct.”

“Hm,” the girl chuckles. She tosses a bit of hair back, then holds up a hand. “Sorceress. Can’t relate.”

“You do have wizard classes there, don’t you?” Aelwyn presses. 

“Thinking of transferring, prep school?” the sorceress teases. Aelwyn exhales and restrains her irritation.

“Not at all. I’m top of my class. No, I’m asking for…” She pauses. “...my sister.” The brunette raises an eyebrow again, suddenly a little curious, not just condescending. “She’s...looking for a change of pace. I thought perhaps practical casting would suit her.”

“Practical, yeah,” the girl scoffs. “What’s her school?”

“Divination,” Aelwyn answers. She knows her sister hasn’t formally dedicated herself to one or another yet, but it feels right. 

The girl’s eyes widen, just slightly, with interest. “Y’know, diviners are pretty underrated as adventurers,” she begins. Her arms are folded and she taps her fingers on them. “You should talk to the vice principal.”

“The vice principal, huh?” 

“Mhm. Here,” she says, and reaches into her purse. She pulls out a receipt and rips off a bit of it, then retrieves a pen and uncaps it with her mouth. She scribbles an email address onto the paper and hands it to Aelwyn. “There you go, prep school.”

“It’s Aelwyn,” she corrects with a grumble, taking the paper and scanning it over.

The half-elf smirks again and caps the pen. “Penelope. Maybe I’ll see you around.” At that, her boyfriend returns, wearing the shirt she’d handed off to him before. She gasps slightly and grins at him, turning away from Aelwyn. “Oh my gods, babe, you look so good…” 

Aelwyn wanders away, back to where she came from. When she looks up from the receipt, she’s almost nose-to-nose with Kalina again (or would be, if the tabaxi weren’t so short). She frowns as the cat says “See? I told you you could trust me.”

“No, in fact, you didn’t,” Aelwyn points out, shaking her head and brushing past her. Kalina simply trails her casually.

“But I demonstrated it. Now, why don’t you run on home and tell your folks the good news, huh?”

“What--?” Aelwyn starts. She whirls around to look behind her, and the tabaxi is gone again. Confused, she looks at the receipt in her hand once again, shakes her head, and goes to leave the store. 

She drives home with the windows down and the radio off. There are too many thoughts in her head for music right now. Not that she didn’t try to drown them out at first, but it proved useless, so she turned it off. When she pulls into the driveway at home, she shifts into park and turns off the engine, but sits there for a good while before getting out, soaking in the last of the summer day’s sun and fresh air while she can.

Aelwyn enters through the garage door. Adaine passes in the hall, coming from the dining room, and slows when she hears her sister. “You’re late for dinner,” she says with a frown.

“Good heavens, whatever shall I do,” Aelwyn replies, deadpanning. Adaine scowls; she seems resentful that Aelwyn could even get away with such a thing. They both know she will. She hangs her key up on the wall hook beside the door and continues, asking, “Did Mother and Father reach a decision yet?”

Adaine’s face creases a little more. “Go find out for yourself, why don’t you. Why do you even care?”

Aelwyn sighs and gives her sister a look and a frown. “I get that it’s hard for you to believe, Adaine, but I don’t actually want you to fail. It’s--”

“An embarrassment to the family, yeah, yeah. I get it,” Adaine cuts her off again and resumes walking, quickly leaving Aelwyn behind. Aelwyn sighs and brushes back her bangs before heading further inside, swinging through the dining room and the kitchen to pick up her portion of dinner before retiring to her room. That night, before bed, she drafts an email.

Chapter Text

Aelwyn parks in the front lot and turns off the radio. She doesn’t go in right away, but waits to take it in first. The Aguefort Adventuring Academy, at least from the outside, doesn’t feel all too different from Hudol, in some ways. The manicured lawn and ostentatious front entrance and facade, for one thing. The smell of magic and pressure in the air, for another.

It’s empty inside the building when she walks in. The directions she’d been given in an email said to hang a left down the Hall of Heroes. Aelwyn thinks it’s a rather ostentatious display, with the stuffed trophy cases and the wall lined with portraits. Then again, the only difference between this and Hudol is the number of weapons. The vice principal’s office is just past the praise, and she knocks on the door.

She can hear a gruff masculine voice say something to someone before the door opens a couple seconds later. A broad red dragonborn in a suit grins a pointy grin at her. “Ah, you must be Miss Aelwyn Abernant,” he greets. Aelwyn nods. “Vice Principal Goldenhoard,” he introduces himself and shakes her hand. “Welcome, welcome. I’m afraid I’m rather occupied at the moment. Why don’t you take a little tour of the building, see what you think of the place, and then I’ll be ready for you?” Aelwyn glances behind him and spies the same brunette half-elf from the mall standing from the chair in front of his desk. She walks over.

“I’d be happy to show you around,” Penelope says, smiling sweetly.

“Okay,” Aelwyn says. 

“Good, good.” Goldenhoard says, patting Penelope on the back as she slips past him to the door. “I’ll just finish up here, but you ladies feel free to take your time.”

Penelope nods and he retreats inside, shutting the door behind them. She turns to Aelwyn and says “Ready to go?” Aelwyn nods again. Penelope smiles at her and Aelwyn can’t decipher it. “Great. This way,” she continues, leading Aelwyn back the way she came.

“You’re a tour guide now?” Aelwyn asks as Penelope leads her through the school, between her spells of gossip. Her tour-giving technique consists of almost as much actual relevant information as inconsequential conversation. She pauses every so often to point out and talk about important locations on their way, but mostly just briefly mentions rooms as they pass in the middle of conversation.

“‘Admissions ambassador,’” Penelope corrects, smirking. “I’m like a model student around here, so I help out showing potential newcomers around to introduce them to the school.” 

“So you’re a walking advertisement,” Aelwyn says.

“I prefer to think of myself as an important asset,” Penelope counters, raising an eyebrow, never losing her cool. “I mean, it helps to be helpful. You get more of what you want that way. I run a lot of clubs here like the yearbook, the prom committee…” They round a corner in the hallway of magic classrooms and a door opens a little ways ahead of them. A pixie boy flits out, staring at a crystal in his hand. “Speaking of club leaders,” Penelope says, then raises her voice. “Biz, over here.”

The pixie looks up from his crystal screen and pauses where he is as Penelope closes the distance between them, Aelwyn trailing behind. “Oh, Penelope,” he starts in a nasal voice. “I got the next crystal here ready to go--” he starts.

“Biz,” Penelope cuts him off, voice still sweet and friendly. “This is Aelwyn Abernant,” she introduces. 

“Oh,” Biz says. Aelwyn watches his eyes go from Penelope to her back to Penelope, click with understanding, then back again, looking her over. “Hello, Miss Abernant,” he greets, adjusting his glasses. His smile is full of tiny braces. “Biz Glitterdew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Biz is the leader of Aguefort’s AV club,” Penelope explains to Aelwyn. “Aelwyn’s interested in the school, so I’m showing her around.”

“Interested in the school?” Biz says, in a way that Aelwyn doesn’t like. Then again, she can’t say she likes anything about this guy right now. “A beautiful high elf like yourself would make an excellent wizard--”

“No,” Aelwyn interrupts curtly and frowns. “No. I’m not coming here. I’m doing just fine at Hudol, thanks.” 

“Oh,” Biz says, deflating slightly.

“She’s looking for her sister,” Penelope adds.

“Oh,” Biz repeats, looking interested again. 

“Yes,” Aelwyn says, glancing between the two of them. “She’s looking for a new school. I thought Aguefort might suit her.”

 “She’s a wizard,” Penelope adds, raising an eyebrow. Biz looks almost excited. 

“Well then,” Biz continues, adjusting his glasses again and grinning. Aelwyn watches his eyes dart between her and Penelope some more. “I’m sure we’d be oh so lucky to have her.”

“You would, huh,” Aelwyn says flatly, eying him, slightly wary. 

“Well sure, I bet she’d be a great asset to our team--”

“What Biz means,” Penelope interrupts again, chuckling and stepping in. “Is that she’d love Aguefort’s wizarding program. Biz is one of the top wizarding students in our grade.”

“They don’t let just anybody be head of the AV club, y’know, I really know my stuff,” Biz adds, nodding.

“...Right. Sure.” Aelwyn gives Penelope a look. She nods comprehendingly and begins again down the hallway, putting a hand on Aelwyn’s arm to usher her along too.

“Anyways, it was great to run into you,” Penelope says as they start to go, laying it on thick. “Goldenhoard’s probably ready for us by now.” 

“When do you want to go over the--?” he asks, holding up the crystal a little.

“I’ll catch you later, then we’ll talk,” she says quickly, then turns and goes before he can respond again.

“So,” Goldenhoard starts, taking his seat behind his desk. He folds his hands and rests them on the desktop in front of him and smiles as nonthreateningly as he can manage at her, seated across. “Penelope tells me you’re interested in Aguefort for your sister. What makes you think she’d be a good fit for the Adventuring Academy?” he asks, polite and professional, and picks up a pen, poised to take notes.

Aelwyn squeezes her fingers together folded in her lap. “I believe she would benefit from a strong magic curriculum and practical casting experience.” 

“Mhm,” Goldenhoard responds, scribbling something down on a pad of paper. “Our wizarding curriculum is strong, only the most adept students do well.”

“She can handle it,” Aelwyn says.

Goldenhoard studies her for a moment. “Was she a strong student in middle school? Where did she attend?” 

Aelwyn takes a very quiet breath. “Hudol,” she answers. Her fingers tense again.

“Oh,” Goldenhoard blinks and pauses before writing. “Hudol! That’s very good. Is she interested in pursuing a career in adventuring rather than continuing on to the upper school?”

“No,” Aelwyn says, deliberately. She frowns. “She didn’t pass her exam.”

Goldenhoard taps the back of his pen against the paper. “I see,” he says after a beat.

“It was an isolated incident,” Aelwyn continues, slightly insistent. “She is usually competent.”

“Hm,” Goldenhoard hums.

“Her divination scores are exemplary,” Aelwyn offers. Goldenhoard eyes her for a moment before standing and taking a couple of leisurely steps around his desk.

“Where else has she been considering for high school education?”

Aelwyn exhales again. “Well, Mumple is out of the question,” she says offhandedly. 

“It’s a fine school,” Goldenhoard comments, but neither of them believe it. 

“I’ve heard Mother and Father discuss sending her back to Fallinel to a boarding school there.”

“You’re from Fallinel?” Goldenhoard asks curiously.

Aelwyn nods. “My father is the ambassador.”

“Mm.” Goldenhoard taps his fingers on the desk. “International students, that’s very appealing. What drew her attention to Aguefort, then?”

“Nothing,” Aelwyn admits. She bites her lip slightly as Goldenhoard looks over at her again. “She hasn’t considered it, as far as I’m aware. I’m looking into it for her.”

The vice principal pauses for a moment to consider this. “I see. What drew your attention, then?”

“Well, I met Penelope in town one day. She told me about it,” Aelwyn says. Her fingers tense in her lap again. There’s some kind of tension in the air here that she can’t quite place, and she doesn’t like the smell of it. Something untrustworthy. Then again, she hasn’t felt like she can trust just anything recently, and it’s hard to say why, or figure out what to say at all. Aelwyn takes a swing. “And I heard about it from this tabaxi woman, Kalina.”

The pleasant expression on the dragonborn’s face immediately dissolves into acute, almost shocked interest. “Kalina?” He repeats. “The Shadowcat?” 

Aelwyn nods, frowning, unsure. The lingua arcana for Misty Step jumps to the forefront of her mind, just in case. 

Goldenhoard turns his chin up and groans. He lifts one hand to rub his eyes in frustration, immediately annoyed. “I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear that I didn’t want anything to do with her meddling,” he huffs, pacing around the room a little bit. 

“What?” Aelwyn asks, confused and concerned. 

“Well, I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now,” Goldenhoard grumbles, returning to his seat. Wisps of smoke swirl from his nose. “Almost literally.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aelwyn says, beginning to scoot her chair back and stand to leave. 

“Sit down,” Goldenhoard commands. Any and all manner of friendliness has disappeared from his voice and demeanor now. “We’re not done here.”

“Yes, we are,” Aelwyn says firmly and stands.

“No. You know too much.” Aelwyn pauses and looks back at him as he also returns to his feet, and takes hold of a large cricket bat from behind the desk. Aelwyn only now takes full note of how tall he is. 

“I don’t know anything.”

“If you’re involved with her, you do.” Goldenhoard gestures roughly with the bat, nearly knocking things off the desk. 

“...Okay,” Aelwyn says. Her heart is pounding and she wonders if he can tell. “Now what?” 

Goldenhoard stops and forces himself to take a breath, to quell the simmering rage for a moment, and sets his fist hard down on the desk. “You can either make yourself useful to me, or I’ll kill you.”

Aelwyn blinks and steps back. “You can’t do that.”

“Actually, Miss Abernant,” Goldenhoard returns, looming over the desk. “I can. You are not a Solesian citizen.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Goldenhoard huffs in exasperation and plops back down in his chair. “Did that cat really not tell you anything?” he asks rhetorically. “Gods above, what a mess. Listen,” he continues, looking her in the eye and leaning forward. “I’m stuck here playing babysitter for a school full of terrible teenagers with weapons for literally all of eternity until that crazy old bastard Arthur Aguefort is dead. And I can’t kill him, because I’m cursed to never kill another Solesian.”

“Some punishment,” Aelwyn deadpans, sarcastic even under duress.

“For a dragon emperor, it is. And you’re not, so watch your mouth,” he warns, pointing a clawed finger at her. 

“Dragon emperor?” Aelwyn can’t help but scoff. 

“Yes! Kalvaxus, emperor of the gods-damned Red Wastes! It ruled!” he exclaims in anger, gesturing emphatically again. 

“That’s ancient history.”

“I said watch your mouth, girl,” Goldenhoard warns again. Aelwyn shuts up. “When I was defeated, I was bound to this form and cursed to work for Aguefort for as long as he lives. And I can’t do that, so I need to get some horrible little teenagers to carry out the Oracle’s prophecy and get me out of here.” He sits back again and huffs, smoke puffing out from his nose again. “Gods, I hate that bitch.” 

"The Oracle?" Aelwyn sinks back into her chair as he rants. “...Well, the Oracle isn’t Solesian,” she cautiously starts a few beats after he’s finished. “Just...kill them and be done with it?” She hates the suggestion even as she says it, hates the idea of it, but can’t think of anything else to say that won’t get her burnt to a crisp or entangled in something messy right now.

“Yes, yes, it certainly would be satisfying to watch her burn,” Goldenhoard muses, stroking his chin. “But it wouldn’t accomplish anything. The Oracle’s only useful to me alive.”

“There’d be a new Oracle.”

Goldenhoard grunts. “No way of knowing who.”

“I know who.” 

The dragonborn looks at her and studies her closely in silence. Aelwyn feels uncomfortable. She isn’t even quite sure why she said that.

“You what?”

She swallows the lump in her throat. “I know who the next Oracle will be.”

He narrows his eyes. “How?” 

“The mages believe…” she starts slowly. She squeezes her fingers into fists in her lap. “...the power goes to the greatest diviner of the elven people.”

Silence.

“...And you know for sure who that is?” 

Aelwyn nods.

In the bathroom, Aelwyn runs the tap cool and splashes water over her face. She feels hot and sticky. “Not feeling so hot, champ?” She hears an irritating voice say. She growls in frustration, turning and whipping her hand under the faucet to splash water at Kalina. The tabaxi casually leans out of the way, missing the spray.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Aelwyn hisses, pointing at her firmly. “First you follow me to the cafe. Then you follow me to the mall. Now you follow me into the fucking bathroom of all places. What kind of creep are you?”

Kalina clicks her tongue condescendingly. “You say that like I ever leave.”

“Get out,” Aelwyn demands.

“No. We have things to talk about, kiddo.” 

“We most certainly do not.”  

“Yes, we do.” Kalina puts a paw down on the counter and taps the papers Aelwyn had set down. “You’re going to tell that dragon you’ll do it, and you’re going to bring this home to your parents and tell them you’ve solved their problem. Got it?”

Aelwyn feels her stomach turn. “No. No way. I’m not letting my sister go here. This is ridiculous.”

Kalina looks stern. “And where else will she go? She’s running out of time to apply anywhere else. Here’s a perfect option sitting on a silver platter just waiting for you, conveniently right in your hometown.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s an adventuring school. No one actually dies here.”

Aelwyn leans on the counter and looks down at the water running down the drain. “And what do you expect me to tell my parents, hm?” She turns her head to the side to glare at Kalina. “That I was coerced by a random girl I met in the mall, a lunatic dragon, and a stalking cat? You’re all insane.”

“You can tell them whatever you’d like,” Kalina says, too casually for Aelwyn’s liking. As usual. “But your parents aren’t going to think we’re the insane ones here, kiddo.” 

“What do you mean?” Aelwyn squints at her. Kalina shrugs towards the mirrors above the sinks. Aelwyn turns and looks her reflection in the eye. She sees a stressed and tired girl, someone who’s normally better at hiding it than this. She’s off her game, sure, but not insane.  

Kalina steps close and puts a paw on Aelwyn’s back, smiling and gesturing forward towards the mirror with her other. “I’m sure your parents would love to hear how you’re seeing things.” Aelwyn stares at her reflection in the mirror. She can feel the cat’s paw on her back. There’s no cat in the mirror. Just a scared, confused girl. Aelwyn stands up straight, feeling hollow. “Surely they’d understand if both of their children were disappointments. Failures.”

“Stop,” Aelwyn says sharply, looking down, away from both the tabaxi and the mirror. “Stop.” She leans down and splashes her face with water again.

“Well?” Kalina says. Aelwyn doesn’t respond. Kalina sighs. “Listen. It’s simple. You take the job. It’ll be so easy for you. You tell your parents you’ve solved their problem. Your sister enrolls in the fall. You’re done. You don’t have to deal with her anymore at school, your parents stop arguing about it, you don't have to do anything else, you can go back to your normal life, everybody’s happy. How does that sound, kiddo?”

“Why are you doing this?” Aelwyn asks after a beat. This doesn’t feel right. 

“I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re not real. You’re just in my head.” 

“So you’re trying to help yourself. You know this is the right plan.”

“No,” Aelwyn protests.

“Well,” Kalina says. “If you have any other ideas, I’m all ears.” 

Aelwyn shuts off the tap and says nothing.

Aelwyn drives home. She has the radio off and the windows down. She lets the wind whip her hair around wildly and wonders if she’ll crash. There are two new numbers in her phone, a packet of forms in her bag, and a lead weight in her stomach. In her head she is rehearsing what she will say when she gets home. 

“Mother, Father,” she begins, clearing her throat. Her parents look up, her father from his newspaper and her mother from her book. Aelwyn’s face feels hot, but she keeps her cool. “I believe I may have a solution to Adaine’s school troubles.” Now her sister looks up, too. Aelwyn does not acknowledge her and produces the forms from behind her back, holds them out to her parents.

“The Aguefort Adventuring Academy,” her mother reads aloud, taking the papers. Adaine’s eyes widen. Her father narrows his. Aelwyn stands still and tall like a statue. “How…” her mother begins again, failing to find an appropriate word to voice her opinion. "...intriguing."

“I’ve already spoken with the vice principal,” Aelwyn continues. She sniffs pointedly. “Their wizarding program is commendable. Graduates acquire strong practical casting skills that can be applied to a wide variety of situations. The curriculum is rigorous, but she’s suited enough for it. And it’s right here in Elmville, so there will be no hassle to move.”

“Mm,” her father grunts, not yet convinced. “I would hardly consider sending my daughter to a public school…”

“It’s a magnet school,” Aelwyn corrects politely. “Admission is still competitive. But the vice principal has already agreed to waive her placement exam based on her records from Hudol. He believes she is promising.”

Her mother shuffles through the papers, looking them over. “Commendable work, Aelwyn,” she says, not looking up, and leaning over to show them to her father. Aelwyn stands a little taller. 

“I don’t want to go to Aguefort,” Adaine finally speaks up. Aelwyn turns to look. She looks like she’s fighting rage, or tears, or both.

“Nonsense. It’s a fine school,” Aelwyn returns calmly.

“I don’t want to be an adventurer,” Adaine protests again, more firmly. She desperately glances to their parents, as though they might for once support her. Aelwyn holds her breath. For once, they might. Adventuring is such a gauche profession. Aelwyn doesn’t know what she’ll do if they say no. "I can't."

“Quiet, Adaine,” their father says dismissively, looking over the papers with their mother. They contained curriculum descriptions, class schedules, grading criteria, and a nearly-completed form for enrollment, just add signatures. “Sooner or later she’ll have to learn discipline,” he comments aside to their mother, as though Adaine weren’t right there.

Their mother nods. They exchange a few more quiet sentences between each other. Aelwyn hears a voice in her head.

Why are you doing this? her sister Messages.

For your own good, Aelwyn replies back. Actually, for everyone’s.

This isn’t good. This is terrible. I can’t go to adventuring school.

Not with that attitude.

Aelwyn.

Oh, come on. You’ll get over it quickly enough and fit right in.

Aelwyn keeps her face neutral and her demeanor steady. Her sister fights to stay quiet and still.

You’re always trying to screw me over.

Aelwyn sighs quietly. I’m not going to convince you otherwise.

Adaine’s face crumples. Aelwyn almost feels sorry for her. She’s about to Message again when their father speaks up. “Remarkable work, Aelwyn. It’s a fine solution.” 

She stands up a little straighter. Adaine’s face falls. “But--!”

“Quiet, Adaine,” their father cuts her off.

“I can’t go to adventuring school!” she continues anyway. 

Her father looks at her coldly. “Your mother and I have discussed it and we’ve decided you will.”

“No!”

“Adaine.” She shuts up. “Our decision is final.” He turns to Aelwyn, his expression softening. “Thank you, Aelwyn. Such a good girl.”

Aelwyn sits in the parked car. She takes deep breaths, filling her lungs with the late summer air. She wipes a bit of sweat from her forehead and convinces herself it’s just from the heat.

“We’re wasting daylight, kiddo,” Kalina says. She’s outside leaning against the car door. 

“There’s plenty of time left,” Aelwyn replies coldly. 

“You’ve got a job to do.” 

“I didn’t sign up for this, you know,” Aelwyn eyes her sideways through the window. 

“Sure you did.”

“No, I didn’t. This wasn’t part of the deal.”

“If you have a better plan, take it up with the dragon.”

Aelwyn sighs. She rolls the windows up and shuts the car off before stepping out. The tabaxi trails her into the school building. Or maybe she doesn’t. It doesn’t seem to make a difference.

She knocks on the door to the vice principal’s office. The dragonborn lets her in. He takes an elaborate model ship off a bookshelf and hands it to her. 

“Penelope has the instructions for you. They’re in the AV room,” he tells her. She takes the model ship and leaves without another word. The side of the boat reads The Harpy in fancy script. 

She navigates the empty halls to the AV room and lets herself in. Penelope is standing bent over a bank of crystal computers, at which Biz is seated and showing off some handheld crystals. 

“...we’ve got Antiope right here. I’m working on a better place to store them in the meantime. I’ve got the next one here ready to go,” Aelwyn hears him explaining as she enters. Penelope looks up at the sound of the door.

“Good, you’re here,” she says. Biz looks up as she walks over and Aelwyn enters. “Biz, print out the thing."

“You got it,” the pixie responds, opening up another tab on the computer screen and entering a command. The printer in the corner of the room whirrs to life and begins spitting out a paper with arcane rune diagrams. Penelope grabs it and hands it to Aelwyn with a flourish.

“This is it?” Aelwyn asks, scanning the runes.

“Yep,” Penelope confirms. Aelwyn glances around the room as the two of them watch her, and she notes the five or so crystals Biz has laid out before him. 

“This is just for the ship,” Aelwyn asks flatly, eyeing Penelope again. 

“Yes, it’s just for the ship,” she confirms. 

“I’m not messing with the crystals,” Aelwyn says firmly. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“We have a plan,” Biz adds. 

“I wasn’t supposed to do this either,” Aelwyn says, motioning with the model ship.

“Well if all things go according to that plan,” Penelope says, raising an eyebrow. “You won’t have to.”

“I’ll be done after this.”

“Sure.”

“As long as things go smoothly,” Biz says. Penelope shoves his chair with her foot. “Ow, hey.”

“We’ll keep in touch,” Penelope adds.

“Hmph,” Aelwyn grunts. She folds the paper and slips it into her pocket, then turns to go. 

“Aelwyn,” Penelope speaks up as she heads for the door. Aelwyn pauses and looks back. “Let us know how it goes.”

“Fine.” Aelwyn shoves the door open and begins to leave. As she goes, she can hear them resuming their conversation.

“So, you know who’s next?”

A sigh. “Yeah. I’m just gonna wait a few more…”

Aelwyn leaves the way she came and heads back to the car. Inside, Kalina is waiting for her in the passenger seat. “There, that was easy, wasn’t it?” she says.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Aelwyn situates herself in the driver’s seat and turns the key. The engine hums to life and she rolls the windows all down again. 

“It’s just a little evocation spell.”

“It’s hardly ‘little.’”

“You aced evocation last semester.”

“I don’t like that you know that.”

“You don’t seem like much of anything, I’ve noticed.”

Aelwyn shifts the car into drive and pulls out of the school parking lot. She turns onto the street and presses her foot to the pedal, picking up speed. The wind blows her hair around and stings her face. The sun dips low on the horizon and the afternoon air is golden orange. Just a few days left of summer, then things will be back to normal. This will all be behind her. It’ll all be okay. 

“I like some things,” she answers, and presses on the gas some more.