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Chapter Text

The Trial by Tale was not meant to be taken lightly.

Considered the pinnacle of the academic year, the annual Trial by Tale was venerated as the grand culmination of the top students’ efforts.  Everybody in the school—teachers and students, Good and Evil alike—respected the tradition, and took all precautionary methods to ensure its proper execution.

All students longed to participate in this Trial.  It was a tried-and-tested method to showcase both academic ability and survival prowess in hopes of eventually earning one’s own fairy tale.  To participate in the Trial and emerge victorious would ensure one’s place in the school’s history for years to come, no matter how rare the occurrence might have been.

Being chosen to participate in this esteemed event warranted being in the top 10 of either school, as well as passing the pre-Trial challenges—these determined one’s starting position in the Trial.  The rules for the Trial were few and simple:

1. Entrances into the Trial will be staggered.  At sundown, the Ever and Never with the lowest pre-Trial rankings will enter the Blue Forest.  Every 15 minutes, the next-lowest pair will enter until the highest-ranked Ever and Never enter the competition last.
2. Inside the Forest, Nevers can attack Evers with their special talents and any spell learned in class.  Evers can defend themselves with approved weapons and counterspells.  Both sides will be subject to obstacles laid by the faculty.
3. Each challenger will be given an enchanted handkerchief of surrender.  It is the challenger's duty to recognize mortal danger and drop his or her enchanted handkerchief when the time comes.  The moment this handkerchief touches the ground, the student will be safely removed from the Trial.
4. Upon the first glint of sunrise, the Deans will call an end to the Trial and the student(s) who returns through the gate alive will be named the winner(s).
5. The winner will receive 5 extra first-place ranks in the race for Class Captain.  In the case of multiple winners, each student will receive 2 extra first-place ranks.

It wasn’t uncommon to encounter stressed-out students practising hexes or sparring with their friends in the weeks leading up to the announcement of the Trial line-up.  Even both school’s top third-years were subject to this inevitable emotional strain caused by the desire for academic validation—Lesso herself had been seen sporting fresh eyebags and rumours said Dovey’s hair had been a little more messy than usual.

Hushed whispers travelled across campus like wildfire—speculations about the potential representative students for both schools were more relevant to Evers and Nevers alike than their own classes.  Everyone was making their own calculations and weighing their chances of making the line-up.  

For instance, Cadell reasoned that since August and Lesso were in the same Forest Group, it was highly unlikely that August would be participating in the Trial.  (Not to mention, Lesso’s position as Class Captain was almost a guarantee of her slot.)  This possibility gave him more of a fighting chance at the Class Captain position since Lesso’s specialty was magic as opposed to August’s skill in hand-to-hand combat.  (Cadell was pretty scrawny—even by Never standards—but he believed his brains and raw magical power more than made up for it.)  

Hecate, however, thought that her classmate Cadell would be a foolish choice to represent their group, seeing as how he managed to weasel his way out of hand-to-hand duels in training.  Evil, she believed, should not cower in the face of confrontation; rather, she thought herself to be a more worthy candidate, since her villain talent revolved around the integration of magic in combat.  She prided herself on being able to hold her own against the August Sader in their classes, and longed to test her mettle against Evil’s Class Captain.

The list went on, with each student picking out their own bets for the line-up and seeing how they would match against these prospective opponents.  Even Albemarle played along with prolonging the suspense, covering up the leaderboard that was displayed in the middle of both schools with a thick fabric that seemed to loom forebodingly in the afternoon sun.

“Do you reckon I should stop with the hexes and work on my Mogrification instead?” Lesso mumbled around a mouthful of food.  She chewed pensively and swallowed after a moment.  

“I mean,” she added, “I think I’ve finally figured out the lip-sealing shit and the counterspell.”  

The redhead pursed her lips.  “Maybe I should get August to spar with me soon.”

Dovey hummed, twirling a pen in her hand.  

A cloud of steam formed with every breath she took.  She leaned back onto the tree trunk and counted one, two, three snowflakes before speaking.  “If you’re planning to work on Mogrification, maybe we can practise in your classroom later instead of the library?  Or are you and August doing combat training?”

Puffing her cheeks out, the Never shrugged.  

“Depends on him,” Lesso replied.  Despite the cold, she was clad in only a loose black long-sleeved top and trousers.  (Not that she seemed bothered in the slightest—Dovey could swear on her life that ice ran in Lesso’s veins.)  

“If he’s busy, then I’ll train with you.  We should probably mark our Blue Forest maps soon too.  It’ll be good to get a head start on planning routes before the pre-Trial forest scout.”

“It’s hard to believe we’ve both been Captains this long,” Dovey chuckled lightly.  Her thick coat nearly strangled her when she shifted to turn to Lesso, who laughed at her friend’s misfortune.  

“Seems like only yesterday,” she grumbled, undoing a button with much struggle, “you were saving me from falling into that stupid ditch.”

Lesso shook her head and reached over to help the blonde with her furs.  Her nimble fingers undid the first button with ease as she hummed, “Imagine if I hadn’t caught you that day.”  

Dovey tilted her head thoughtfully.  “If you hadn’t,” she paused, voice trailing off.  A moment passed as she considered the possibility.  “We wouldn’t be friends now, would we?”

“Probably,” the redhead agreed.  She turned her attention back to the notebook on her lap, filled with random scribbles and notes from her previous lecture.  “That would suck, to be honest.”

“Aww,” Dovey said teasingly, a triumphant smile on her face.  “I knew you loved me.”  

Lesso shook her head once more and flicked Dovey’s forehead gently.  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, princess.”  Her tone was stern but fond.  “Life would be boring without your stupid optimism contradicting me all the time.”

“So you like yourself a challenge, huh?” the Ever pressed with a cheeky grin.  Her mitten-clad hands were obscenely warm as she patted Lesso’s shoulder lightly.  “It’s okay, we’ll find you somebody just as complicated as you are.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Lesso said, rolling her eyes.  Teasing about her love life had always been persistent when it came to Dovey, and she was more than used to it at this point.  (She had also learned how to hide how the jabs stung.)  “You know I’m not looking for that right now.”

Dovey gave Lesso a sympathetic smile.  “I know.”  She scooted closer and wrapped an arm around the grumpy redhead.  

“Still,” she added, “it’s just so much fun to tease you.  You know, for a Never, your bark sure is worse than your bite.”

A moment of silence passed.  Dovey’s last statement was untrue, and they both knew it. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” the Never finally scoffed in mock offence.  “You had me breaking school rules left and right in our first year.  It was a miracle we didn’t get expelled, honestly.”

“We performed too well academically for them to fail us,” Dovey shrugged.  “You had all of the faculty wrapped around your fucking finger by the time we were doing Circus prep.”

Lesso squinted, deep in thought.  

“That’s not true,” she replied.  “I don’t think Pollux or Castor liked me very much.”

Dovey frowned.  “What makes you say that?”

Vague memories of a sheep carcass set on fire and a classroom of Evers in chaos, accompanied by shrill screaming from one of twin heads, tickled the back of Lesso’s mind.  

The redhead shrugged.  “Just a hunch.”

“Bullshit,” the Ever snorted disbelievingly, but she pressed no further.  

The two sat in comfortable silence, leafing through their books and incanting softly under their breaths.  A random profanity would escape the Never at failed spells, closely followed by an affectionate laugh from her companion, who was underlining terminologies from her textbook.  Occasional flashes of gold or violet could be seen from all the way across the Clearing, the bright colours burning stark against the pale, snow-covered landscape.

“Why are plant-related spells so fucking hard?” Lesso complained after a while.  Her purple finger glow blazed determinedly as she muttered the spell harshly under her breath, but to no avail; the leaf she had in front of her stubbornly remained a leaf. 

Dovey chuckled lightly and placed a hand over Lesso’s.  “I think you’re being a bit hard on the leaf, dearest,” she said in a gentle tone.  

Removing the mittens that covered her hands, Dovey exhaled as she focused.  The blonde’s finger glow burned persistently, but softly—akin to a candle’s fragile flame—and she uttered the spell.  The leaf suddenly sprouted a stem, another leaf, and a bud—all before the flower burst into full bloom, a perfect violet orchid.

“Impressive, princess,” the redhead marvelled.  Lesso picked up the flower and traced a finger over a petal tentatively.  “You claim that I’m better at magic, but clearly you’ve been holding out on everybody else.”  

With a dismissing wave, the Ever picked up the book in her lap and resumed her annotations.  “Knowing spells doesn’t make me good at magic.  You of all people should know that.”

Lesso tilted her head quizzically and slotted the orchid in Dovey’s hair.  “My knowing doesn’t mean that you should keep downplaying your abilities, you know.”  

She bit the inside of her mouth, debating what to say next.  “You should give yourself a bit more credit.  You’re Good’s Class Captain for a reason.”

“You know,” Dovey began, “you’re actually pretty cute when you’re not trying to scare people off.”  She leaned over and pinched Lesso’s cheek.  The Ever was only met with a half-hearted glare from her companion.

“Your fingers are freezing,” Lesso said, completely deadpan.  The redhead leaned over and took Dovey’s hands in her own.  “Why aren’t you wearing gloves?”

Dovey shrugged nonchalantly.  

“Gloves hinder movement,” she replied.  “Weren’t you the one who told me that once?”

A sharp breath escaped Lesso—strangely enough, she did recall saying that at some point.  It had been a foolish, offhand remark that she thought Dovey would have already forgotten.  

“It only applies to me, princess,” she huffed.  “You and I both know that my tolerance for cold climates is much higher than yours.”

“I’ll be fine,” the blonde replied.  She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush against her will, no doubt a physiological response to the close proximity between them.  “Besides, I think we should both be more worried about the Trial line-ups being released later.”

Nodding, Lesso patted Dovey’s hands twice before letting go.  

She leaned back onto the bare tree trunk and stretched languidly.  (Dovey often remarked that Lesso resembled a cat—the way the redhead stuck her tongue out when she yawned wasn’t helping either.)  

“More importantly,” she said, pausing to take a breath, “we need to talk about the dares we’ll be doing this year.”

The Ever laughed and shut her book, fully giving up on her studying.  “What did you have in mind?”  Her tone was lilting—teasing, even—as they both knew full well that Lesso would never answer her question honestly.

“We’ll have to see once the line-up is announced,” Lesso replied teasingly.  Her head turned to look at the blonde, gaze lingering ever so slightly on the other’s lips.  “There’s no point in spoiling the surprise, is there?”

“No point at all,” Dovey agreed, her own eyes locked on the Never’s.  Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the familiar Cheshire Cat smile that stretched over Lesso’s face mischievously—dangerously, almost.

Thank goodness Dovey found the prospect of danger thrilling.

Chapter Text

The Blue Forest looked magnificent in the wintertime. 

Most events took place in the later months of the year, a flurry of training and preparations that accompanied the first fall of snow on the school grounds.  The Trial by Tale came first, followed by the Circus of Talents, then the Snow Ball for the Evers.  (This tradition was highly disputed by Evil, as it seemed to them a blatant display of inequality.)  All of these events were considered momentous in the academic year, and were taken very seriously.

Part of the pre-Trial preparations included a scout of the Blue Forest, wherein competitors were given the opportunity to map out routes and mark potential dangers, as well as plan their approach to surviving the night.  Most students ended up forming alliances within their ranks, just to ensure that they would not be fighting alone.

“What if we cheat our way through the Trial this year?”  Lesso’s tone was playful, but anybody could tell she was being serious.  Her hand traced a line through the snow that covered a tree trunk.  “We can turn into shrubs or something like that.  Camp out ‘til dawn.”

Dovey shook her head, marking something on the map she was holding.  “You and I both know that isn’t how you play, dearest,” she replied without looking up.  Her steps halted by a patch of daisies.  “You’re much too proud to back down from a fight.”

The Never pouted and squatted to pluck a daisy from the ground.  “Wonder what they’ll throw at us this year.”

“Part of the fun, isn’t it?” her companion said.  “Not knowing what lies on the path ahead.”

“You think it’s fun to be in danger?” Lesso scoffed disbelievingly.  She looked up at the Ever, who was busy plotting out important details on her parchment.  “And I thought I was scary.”

Delivering a swift kick to the redhead’s bottom, Dovey rolled her eyes.  

“You’re insufferable,” she replied snarkily, but the corner of her lips curled upward in a shadow of a smile.

Lesso laughed and began to play a game of effeuiller la marguerite , or some twisted variation of it.  It seemed to involve subjecting each petal to some sick torture before dropping it into the snow.  (Her offkey humming did not at all make it any less terrifying—but Dovey found the morbidity strangely comforting.)

They remained like that for a few minutes, with Dovey sketching rough outlines of possible routes onto her paper and Lesso burning flower petals before flicking them into a puddle.  Echoes of Ever and Never chatter rang distantly, but neither paid them any mind; they were far too wrapped up in their own motions to notice.

“What if,” Dovey started, “we go hide out by the bridge until Yuba calls us back?”  

She tucked her pen behind her ear and placed a hand on Lesso’s shoulder.  “I’ll even give you a ten-second head start.”

With a sharp scoff, Lesso stood, her knees making a faint popping sound.  

“You need it more than I do,” she retorted.    

“If you insist,” the Ever giggled as she curtsied.  

A moment of silence passed, with Dovey suppressing a smile and Lesso staring her down as if daring her to move.  The blood that rushed into the blonde’s cheeks may have been deemed embarrassing in any other situation, but she was much too drunk on the way her companion’s gaze made her feel to even care.  

Their staredown lasted a good minute before Dovey’s smile grew devilishly, and she broke into a full sprint, tearing down the path.  Lesso made a loud sound of protest in response, grabbing at Dovey’s wrist, but to no avail; it was far too easy for the blonde to mogrify—Lesso found herself grappling with a golden rattlesnake that wiggled out of her hand.  

The Never groaned and rolled up her sleeves.  She ran down the marked path, index finger blazing bright purple.  Dovey’s rattlesnake had slithered further down the trail and transformed mid-motion, scales morphing into feathers.  The sparrow that flew through the trees above the redhead made a sound resembling a laugh, as if mocking Lesso’s struggle.  

Lesso grumbled curses under her breath as she ran, mogrifying into a hawk mid-stride.  Chasing the innocuous sparrow through the pale sky, the hawk screeched harshly.  Onlookers would never understand just why there were two birds in such a heated race across the forest.

Dipping below the trees, Dovey’s sparrow feathers melted away to give way to tan skin and golden curls.  The Ever leapt to the ground with surprising agility, landing squarely—gracefully—on the threshold of the bridge.  

She glanced up at the angry-looking hawk and laughed.  “Thanks for the head start!”  

A sharp caw greeted her in response.

Dovey watched the majestic bird circle with a fond expression on her face, the motion strangely resembling a familiar Never when she paced a room.  She had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling.  

After a while, the said Never—a bit more subdued than usual—followed Dovey’s example and de-mogrified, landing heavily on the ground right before the Ever.  

Lesso crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.  “You cheated.”

“I didn’t,” the Ever chuckled, offering a hand to her companion.  “I merely accepted your offer and took the liberty of a ten-second head start.”  She shrugged.  “If anyone cheated here, it’s you, really.”

“You’re insufferable,” Lesso grumbled, but took Dovey’s hand anyway.  

“You love me.”

Wolves howled in the distance, and Dovey tugged on Lesso’s hand to lead her across the bridge.  

“Come on,” she said with a smile.  “Let’s go back.”  

The two walked hand in hand through the Blue Forest, cold fingers intertwined in warm ones.  They talked in hushed whispers, voices lost in the vastness of the woods.  Whatever words were spoken that day, only they would know.  

Keen observers would later on report things that would elude most who did not know them well enough—like the way Lesso seemed to lean just the slightest bit closer than usual to her companion, or the way Dovey’s eyes raked over the Never’s lips as if longing to devour them.  These things likely passed the two themselves without notice, since they were much too wrapped up in each other to realise what their body language was trying to convey to one another.

“So I assume your pre-Trial scout was productive?” Reina asked the two upon sighting them by the gates, their hands still interlocked.  

Lesso and Dovey only shrugged in response.  

The Ever scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Of course that’s how you answer.  I bet you already had your routes planned out a month beforehand.”

Lesso snorted good-naturedly.  “I can’t say you’re wrong,” she replied.  “We’ve been sort of recycling the same plans since our first year.”

“Don’t tell Rei all our secrets,” Dovey laughed, slapping Lesso’s arm with her free hand.  She directed her gaze over to Reina.  “What about you?  Who are you teaming up with this year?”

Reina pursed her lips and hummed.  “Been thinking of going stag this year.”  Her tone was tentative, and she shrugged.  “Who knows?  Maybe I’ll be able to finally take somebody out myself."

Her two companions shared a look.  Dovey let go of Lesso’s hand and wrapped an arm around her best friend.  

“Are you sure about this?” she asked concernedly.  

The Ever nodded.  “I have to learn to fend for myself, you know,” she chuckled.  “Can’t have your Vice-Captain being all pathetic and helpless.”  

“You’re far from pathetic,” Dovey scoffed, flicking Reina’s forehead.  “You’re the best Vice-Captain anybody could ask for.”

A lull settled over the three as they waited for their fellow Trial competitors to arrive.  Lesso stood slightly behind the two Evers, listening to them converse in thoughtful silence.

“Has everybody returned?” Yuba’s voice boomed across the group.  He was met with nods of affirmation from Evers and Nevers alike.  His gaze travelled over all the students, accounting for each and every one.  

Once he had ensured that the group was complete, he waved and said, “We seem to be complete.”  He sighed.  “And that concludes our pre-Trial scout.  Make sure to rest up before tomorrow night, and kindly stay out of trouble.”  

A pointed look was directed at Lesso, who merely shrugged in response.  

“Class dismissed.”

Light chatter broke out over the students once Yuba had turned away, the class dispersing into their own small groups.  Dovey, arm still around her friend’s shoulder, felt a tap on her shoulder.  

She turned to look at Lesso and smiled.  “What’s up?”

Lesso pointed at the sun, which was starting to dip just below its peak.  “It’s past noon,” she said.  “Traditional ‘we’re not allowed to see each other until the Trial’ period should start in a while, I think.”

“You’re right,” Dovey sighed.  She detangled herself from Reina and offered a hand to Lesso, who took it with a smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“You’ll be seeing me kick your ass tomorrow night, you mean,” Lesso joked.  Dovey simply rolled her eyes in response.  The Never let go of her friend’s hand and waved to Reina.  “See you guys."

Reina nodded and waved, “Save a fight for me, Lesso.”  She paused, glaring pointedly.  “No holding back.”

“Me?  Holding back?”  The Never scoffed.  “I’m offended you’d even suggest such a thing.”

Dovey rolled her eyes once more.  “Get out of here,” she said to Lesso, making a shooing motion with her hands.  “It’s bad luck to see your competitor before the Trial.”

“That makes it sound like we’re getting married, princess,” Lesso retorted, but she was smiling.  She waved at her companions once more.  “See you.”

The two Evers watched the redhead walk away in thoughtful silence.  Once Lesso was out of sight, Reina nudged Clarissa.  “Still can’t believe you guys are following a fucking wedding superstition for the Trial."

“It’s a tradition of ours,” Clarissa replied with a shrug.  She began walking back toward Good, Reina walking close beside her.  “At least 24 hours of not seeing each other before the Trial keeps us from getting distracted.”

Reina raised an eyebrow sceptically.  “Distracted how, exactly?”

Clarissa sighed.  “You know,” she mumbled, “not having her around somehow makes me able to think more clearly.”  The blonde paused.  “But it also doesn’t help at all?  I suppose, in some twisted way, Lesso keeps me grounded?”  

With another sigh, Clarissa shrugged.  “Who knows, really?”

“I believe I do,” Reina countered.  Her friend looked at her with a confused expression.  

“Listen,” the Ever sighed, “I’ve tried my very best not to interfere because Emma said you guys had to figure this out on your own, but waiting for more than two years for something to fucking happen is exhausting.  More than you would even believe possible.”  

She inhaled deeply, having not breathed at all throughout her tirade.  “I think you’re in love with Lesso.”

A strained silence settled over them.  Clarissa gaped at Reina, mouth hung slightly open as she visibly tried to grapple with her best friend’s statement.  The said friend looked on sympathetically; she knew all too well how difficult it was to finally be faced with a truth that had been denied for far too long.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you and Emma have been speculating on my lovelife?” Clarissa finally said after a while.  Her question had come out as a half-laugh, something that made the Ever sound strangely similar to a scarlet-haired Never.  

With a dramatic eye roll, Reina linked their arms and began shepherding them both back to Good.  She pouted and huffed, “Why is that your only reaction to what I just told you?”  

“Because I already knew,” the blonde replied.  Her eyes seemed to soften just the slightest with her words.  “Have for a while now, in fact.”

Reina was rendered speechless at her friend’s honesty.  She stared at Clarissa, as if daring her to retract her statement.  

“You knew,” the brunette said, disbelieving.  “You knew you were in love with Lesso.  For a while now.”

“And why is that so hard to believe?”  Clarissa’s tone was dancing squarely on the edge of playful and defensive.  

“I don’t know,” Reina replied.  “It just seemed like you were oblivious to your own feelings, the way you guys act around each other.”

Clarissa laughed.  It was likely meant to sound light-hearted, but it came out harshly—most probably against the Ever’s will.  

“I mean, I love her,” she said bitterly.  “Probably have from the moment we first met.”  There was a pause.  “I suppose I just don’t quite know if the feeling is mutual.”

A sharp laugh escaped Reina, her expression one of disbelief.  When she saw that Clarissa’s expression had not changed, the smile on her face faded.  “Wait, you’re not joking?”

The blonde shook her head.  “She gives me a lot of mixed signals,” she sighed.  “The girl won’t take any of my hints either.”

“You do realise,” Reina began, “that her lack of response probably means you’ll have to actually do something, right?”  

For a moment, the brunette fought the urge to smack her companion upside the head, before quickly giving in—Clarissa’s indignant yelp was more than worth it.  

“Sometimes I’m convinced you’re really fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Clarissa whimpered as she nursed the afflicted area.  “I swear I’ll do something before the year ends.”

Puffing out her cheeks, Reina’s expression turned pensive.  

“You shouldn’t wait too long,” she said with surprising sincerity.  “We’ll all be going on quests next year.  You don’t even know if you guys will see each other again.”

The silence that fell over the two Evers rang impossibly loud.  Clarissa’s expression was almost unreadable, her features imperceptibly betraying emotions that only the most trained eye would pick up on.  Her hazel eyes reflected an unusual sadness—it was a melancholy that Reina had never seen before.

Clarissa shrugged after a moment.  “I guess we’ll see tomorrow,” she sighed.  “If I don’t die in the Trial, then maybe I’ll ask her out.”

Her friend gasped dramatically. 

“Issa,” Reina began, “sweet, sweet Issa.”  She wiped a non-existent tear from the corner of her eye.  “Finally growing a pair and asking your beloved demon out.  I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

“Shut up,” Clarissa replied, shoving Reina.  “You’re no better than I am.”

“They grow up so fast,” the brunette chuckled teasingly.  

With a snort, Clarissa raised an eyebrow.  “What are you, my mother?”

“Yes I am!” Reina exclaimed.  “I raised you, didn’t you know?  You lovely homosexual, you.”

A yelp of pain was all anybody heard from Reina after Clarissa punched her shoulder.  

★★★

“If I win, you have to go out with me.”

Lesso’s offhand remark had been ringing in Dovey’s head for the past half hour, and she could feel herself losing her mind.  Her footsteps seemed impossibly loud as she paced her room, heartbeat pounding in her ears.  There was no way to explain just what had happened that led up to her friend’s declaration, nor was there a reasonable explanation for how Dovey had responded.

There was a reason that Lesso and Dovey had kept up their 24-hour avoidance tradition.  It was to ensure that no distractions would prevent them from performing to the best of their abilities, so that they could fully test their abilities with no holds barred.  They had both been competing in the Trial since their first year, and not once had they ever teamed up.  Rather, each viewed the other as her equal; none of the other competitors mattered, for they only needed to defeat each other to win.  

The mere notion that this policy would be violated—and by the one who had declared it law, no less—suggested that there was more at stake than initially planned.  Whatever exactly had elicited this reaction from Lesso persistently remained unknown, and Dovey didn’t like it in the slightest. 

Her feeling was similar to the jarring sensation of miscalculating and assuming there is another step on a staircase, when in fact there is none—that falling feeling that resides in the pit of one’s stomach was a good way to describe Dovey’s burning desire to throw up.

Pulling her Trial cloak around herself tighter, she wondered, just how did she end up here?

Chapter Text

A tap resounded on her window, followed by a sharp whistle that Dovey could recognise anywhere.  

She walked over and pushed the glass pane open, shaking her head exasperatedly.  “What do you think you’re doing here, Lesso?”  

“Ouch, princess.  And here I thought you’d be glad to see me,” Lesso retorted playfully.  The Never was perched on Dovey’s balcony railing, red hair tied back in a ponytail and midnight-blue Trial cloak flapping in the wind. 

Dovey smiled and motioned for Lesso to come in.  “I am,” she replied.  “Although it would have been easier for both of us if you had actually come through the door, like a normal person would.”

Lesso shook her head and squatted down to meet Dovey’s eyes before saying, “I won’t be long.  I just wanted to see you before tonight.”  

She paused, as if hesitant on what she wanted to say.  “Have you decided on a dare yet?”

“I’ve got a couple in mind,” the blonde said.  She stepped out onto the balcony and leaned on the railing.  “Why do you ask?”

The Never hopped off the railing and stood next to her companion.  She stared directly into the horizon, sunlight illuminating tiny flecks of gold lost in the expanse of her grey eyes.  They stayed in silence for a moment—it was a calm quiet that they enjoyed.

“August said that the faculty conjures are pretty bad this year.”  Lesso sighed, breaking the spell over the two.  

Dovey bit the inside of her mouth.  Her index finger traced a fracture in the balcony railing.  “How bad?”

Puffing her cheeks out, the redhead shrugged.  “Enough.”  She paused.  “I think that maybe we should ditch the contest and just meet up at the bridge by dawn.”

“That bad, huh?”  Dovey muttered in disbelief.  

Her companion shook her head.  “Worse.”

They remained quiet for a moment.  It was rare for Lesso to suggest something that involved going back on a previous agreement, so whatever August had said must have spooked her pretty badly.  Not to mention the fact that Lesso didn’t get spooked easily—if she ever did.  Whatever conjures the faculty had come up with this year must have been quite the spectacle.

The Ever reached out and took the redhead’s hand in her own.  She found herself rubbing small circles with her thumb—it was a habit she didn’t realise she had until Lesso had pointed it out a few months prior.  

“So no dare?”  

Dovey bit her tongue.  She had spoken too quickly, hadn’t she?   Her gaze travelled over to her friend, who looked pensive.    

“We can do the dare,” Lesso replied after a moment.  “I’ve got a couple in mind too.”

It would have been a believable response, if it weren’t for the fact that the Never’s eyes were trained on something distant in the horizon.  The changes in Lesso’s eyes were her biggest tell and she hid it much too obviously when she lied—it was a dear secret that Dovey held close to her heart, and she took pride in the fact that only she knew this about the other.

(“Dearest?” Dovey had asked tentatively.

Lesso lifted her head to look at the Ever.  “What is it, princess?”

The blonde’s heart fluttered, as it always did at the term of endearment.  She rolled her eyes and barely bothered suppressing the smile on her face.  “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” the Never shrugged.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

A look of confusion crossed Lesso’s face.  “Whatever makes you say that?”

“Your eyes tell me everything,” Dovey said with a shrug.  “They change when you lie.”

Lesso scoffed, “They don’t.”

It would have almost been believable, but her eyes didn’t quite meet Dovey’s.  That had told the Ever everything she needed to know.)

“So what do you want to do about it?”  Dovey said after a moment of silence.  She glanced over at her companion, who was still quiet.  

With a sigh, Lesso turned to Dovey.  The half-smile on her face looked strangely sad.  “Can you do something for me?”

Dovey was surprised—that hadn’t been the response she was expecting.  She nodded unsurely.  “What is it?”

“Promise me,” Lesso said, holding up her right hand with her pinky extended.  “Promise me you’ll meet me on the bridge at dawn.”

“Why do you need me to promise it?” Dovey asked.  She stared at the Never’s outstretched hand with a puzzled expression.

The redhead shrugged.  “A lot can happen tonight.  You know that better than anybody.”

“And what does this have to do with swearing?”

“I just want to be sure,” Lesso said.  That you’ll be okay , she didn’t say aloud.  

(Not that she needed to—Dovey understood anyway.)

“Alright, then.”  Dovey leaned over, taking Lesso’s outstretched pinky in her own.  “I promise.  I’ll find you by sunrise.”

Lesso breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.”  She detached her hand slowly—reluctantly, even—and smiled.  “You won’t believe how relieved I will be once the sun rises later.”

With a light laugh, Dovey shook her head.  “You and me both.”  She paused.  “Can’t believe this is our last Trial.”

“Seems like only yesterday we were redesigning our Trial guidelines together,”  the Never chuckled.  

Smiling, Lesso nodded at Dovey.  “Speaking of which,” she said, “what dare did you have in mind for me if I lose?”  She licked her lips cockily.  “Not that I will, of course.”

“Whatever happened to not spoiling the surprise?”  the blonde retorted.

Lesso shrugged.  “If I die tonight, at least I’ll know what I was fighting for.”

There was a lack of bite in the redhead’s voice that took Dovey by surprise.  

The Ever sighed and pursed her lips.  “I’ve got a few, but none of them are coming close to your Evergirl uniform stunt.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Lesso said with a grimace.  “It was humiliating.”

Dovey shook her head and placed a hand on Lesso’s.  

“Honestly?” she asked.  “I thought you were pretty cute in pink.”

With a groan, Lesso inched away from Dovey, but not before slapping her shoulder lightly.  

“Fuck off,” the redhead mumbled.  “I can’t believe I lost to you then.”

“You had it easier,” Dovey replied.  Her pained expression spoke volumes to her companion.  “Deliberately getting into trouble was fucking exhausting.”

A sharp laugh escaped Lesso.  

“You’re just too nice for your own good, princess,” she countered.  “Causing mayhem would’ve been a cakewalk for me.”  

Lesso smiled, remembering just what trouble Dovey had caused in their second year.  “I especially enjoyed the part where I lit Pollux on fire and pinned the blame on you.”

“That was you?!” the Ever exclaimed in disbelief.  Dovey shook her head and rested her chin on her hand.  “That explains so much.”

“I knew you couldn’t handle getting into trouble on your own,” Lesso shrugged.  “So I decided to help you along on your way.”  

Her gaze travelled over to the blonde, who seemed lost in thought.  

“At least I was there with you, wasn’t I?”

They both smiled at the memory.  

After Dovey had gotten into trouble with Pollux, Lesso had gone out of her way to be unrulier than usual so that she could share the punishment.  The Never had to resort to intense vandalism—an act she looked down upon—of Castor’s classroom just so Dovey wouldn’t be in detention alone.  She had been careful with the choice of teacher, because Castor was fond of joint detention between Good and Evil and did not make much use of the Doom Room.  Dovey didn’t know that Lesso had deliberately done this, and if the redhead was being honest, she wanted to keep it that way.

The sun sank dangerously low on the horizon, alerting them both of their impending fate to be faced in the Blue Forest.  Both girls felt a tension settle somewhere deep in their bones, almost like a foreboding sense that misfortune awaited them in the near future.

“Hey, princess?”  Lesso said after a moment.

“Yes?”  Dovey replied, looking dead into her companion’s eyes.  

“If I win, you have to go out with me.”

Dovey was left at a loss for words.  (A rare occurrence, as Lesso would say.)  

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in disbelieving silence.  The Ever was unaware of anything except the heated stare from Lesso’s grey eyes and the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.  She longed to speak, but her tongue felt numb in her mouth.  Once she regained feeling, she barely even registered her words before they escaped her lips.

“If I win, you have to take me to the Snow Ball.”

“As you wish, princess,”  the Never said, smiling cockily.  The redhead pulled herself up to stand on the balcony railing and took Dovey’s hand in her own, planting a tender kiss on the Ever’s knuckles.   “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

Only silence greeted Lesso, for Dovey had found herself in a position wherein all she could do was stop and stare.  It was evident that Lesso understood, for she didn’t say anything more.

Right before jumping, Lesso remarked, “Your choice of dare is interesting, you know.”  She paused as if piecing together a thought.  “No matter who wins or loses, I still get what I want.”

Gaping wordlessly, Dovey watched as Lesso allowed herself to fall backwards off the ledge, transforming into a raven mid-fall.  The blonde stood at the balcony, gaze still fixed on the ebony bird flying over Halfway Bay.  So much had been left unsaid, and Dovey despised the way mere words from the Never could leave her so shaken and speechless.

Maybe it was her own fault for falling in love with somebody like Lesso.

★★★

Sometimes Dovey could be terrifying.

It was moments like these that reminded Lesso just why Good and Evil were meant to exist in perfect balance with each other.  For all of its feigned superficiality, Good’s core values were founded on traits that made their heroes formidable, even to Evil’s best.  In times of dire need, Evers were able to summon a hidden strength that lay deep beneath the surface.

After their spontaneous meeting at Dovey’s room, Lesso was worried about how she would react.  It wasn’t every day that one would have a conversation that just barely danced around the topic of potential romantic involvement, after all.  They’d both been skirting around each other for years—something had to give at some point.

Standing in line to enter the Blue Forest, Lesso and Dovey were stuck in a stalemate.  The flickering torchlight cast a foreboding glow over the entirety of the Clearing.  Dovey’s expression was unreadable, and she had not spoken a word to Lesso in the half hour they had spent standing together.  (Quite frankly, her silence scared the Never more than anything they could potentially face in the Trial.)

“Hey, princess?” Lesso ventured tentatively.  “Are you okay?”

There was no response from the other.  

“Next pair!” Yuba’s thunderous voice boomed all across the Clearing.  The gates opened, the Blue Forest swallowing yet another pair.  Names stubbornly remained on the scoreboard, Ever and Nevers alike both intact.

Dovey refused to answer, persistently keeping up her facade of indifference.  Her determination to beat Lesso at her own game fuelled her desire to keep the Never on edge.  (Perhaps this was why her friend took so much pleasure in tormenting others; the power trip was positively delightful.)  Nevertheless, it was … difficult, to say the least, to keep her eyes trained on the gates and not the ravishing redhead standing next to her.  

Lesso wanted to reach out, to hold Dovey’s hand in her own just for a moment—if only to remind herself that her friend was still there.  She had been somewhat worried ever since August had mentioned the School Master’s unusual involvement in the Trial, and her fear had all but grown over the last few weeks.  It was tonight, she realised, that would decide whether she would break or not.  

Neither realised that their little game of cat-and-mouse was being observed by keen eyes.

Emma Anemone’s gaze was sharp and quick to catch any hesitation in either’s movement.  She ascertained that something had happened before the Trial, and it was throwing them both off.  August Sader had long since deduced that Lesso must have said something that had caused their dynamic to shift, because Dovey was keeping an unusual distance from the Never.  Reina Lockhart had heard their exchanges, or lack thereof, from her spot in front of them—their deafening silence was all she thought about, even as she cut through the forest.

“Final pair!”  

The announcement went as suddenly as it came, sending chills down both girls’ spines—as well as their spectators—and forcing them to bring their minds back to the present.  Cold air greeted them as the gates were blown open threateningly; they both uttered a soft prayer, begging to a god—any gods they didn’t believe in—to keep the other safe.

“See you on the other side, my lady,” Dovey muttered under her breath despite herself, just soft enough for Lesso to hear.  She gripped her cloak tighter and inhaled deeply.

A smile grew on Lesso’s face, and she spared her partner a fleeting glance.  Despite the unflattering firelight, Dovey was still stubbornly breathtaking.  “Best of luck, princess.”  

They walked forward into the forest, darkness closing around them in a sick embrace.  

The wolves howled, for the gates had been sealed, and the Trial had begun.

Chapter Text

Neither Dovey nor Lesso spoke as they stood at a fork in the road.  Several minutes of walking in loaded silence had come to this point—a divergence of paths that they’d both been anticipating since they entered.

“Which side are you taking?”  Lesso exhaled sharply.  Her hand travelled to the hilt of her dagger, keen eyes watching for signs of danger in the darkness.  

Dovey nodded, before realising that her companion couldn’t see her.  “I’ll take the right,” she replied.  It was remarkable how deceptively stable her voice seemed.  

A moment passed, and an understanding settled between them.  

In perfect silence, the Ever and the Never stepped forward on their own trails.  Neither had any idea of what awaited them further down the line.  It was where half the fun lay, in the knowing that there would be no way to predict whatever dangers lurked in the darkness, or who would be lying in wait to stab their backs.

Danger was what made the Trial so dreadfully exhilarating, as they liked to say.

The Ever walked down her chosen trail, golden finger glow illuminated.  Each of her breaths were calm, timed, and controlled .  There was no margin for error in such an event like this, she reasoned.  Her ears strained to hear any sound of incoming danger over the usual forest nightlife.  A muffled scream came from her far left, no doubt the result of Lesso wreaking havoc on all those who stood in her way.

Clarissa smiled and pushed forward.  There was no way she’d let herself lose now, was there?

Her specialty was no specialty at all—Clarissa was well-known among her peers for her ability to perform any given spell with ease.  She was a remarkably quick learner, but her fatal flaw was her inability to find her trademark—a spell or technique that would be known as hers and hers alone.  The Ever refused to be boxed in, and relentlessly studied different types of magic to balance out all her skills.  Some called this ‘indecision’, but she called it ‘being versatile’.

A sharp crack suddenly came from behind her.  Clarissa halted in her tracks, slowing her breath to a quiet whisper.  Complete silence greeted her in return.  The Ever would almost have believed the deceptive lack of danger, if it weren’t for a pink glow that flashed and fizzled out just as quickly from the trees behind her.  

Too flashy, too emotional , Clarissa thought—just as a Never leapt out from the shadows and made to grab her.  It must have been her first time competing, because she had foolishly left her handkerchief hanging from her pocket.  That rookie mistake made it easy, too easy, for Clarissa to dodge her attack and steal the fabric. 

After every fight, there came a lull between two opponents.  It was in this momentary silence that the victor was given the chance to gloat or impart words of “wisdom”, for there was nothing the loser could do to change the outcome.  In situations like this, it would be the moment in a tale where the hero spares the villain’s life, or the part where the villain makes a life-changing revelation about their motivations.

Clarissa decided to check her opponent for injuries instead.

Calypso, upon the Ever’s examination, was a pale, mousy girl that had stringy dark hair and strangely fiery blue eyes—she looked much younger than Clarissa in the pale light.  It was clear in her expression and frenzied breathing that she was nervous, far too nervous, to make any reasonable decisions; the possibility that her attack was unplanned and half-baked was more than likely.  There were no visible markings on her, apart from a graze that stretched over a freckled cheek; that could easily be treated once she was eliminated.

Squatting down to eye level, Clarissa placed a hand on the Never’s shoulder and gave her a genuine smile.  

“You did well,” she soothed, before dropping the red handkerchief on the ground.  The sparks that signified the other girl’s safety gave the blonde a strange comfort.

Clarissa sighed.  She stood and stretched, wiggling the tension out of her shoulders before breaking into a brisk run.  The night air blew through her hair and the sound of branches snapping under her feet resounded through the woods.  It was peaceful— too peaceful , Clarissa thought.  Something felt off.  Casting a spell mid-run, Clarissa mogrified into a dove and soared above the Blue Forest to watch her competitors fight among themselves.

By the Pumpkin Patch, there were three Nevers ambushing an Everboy—Clarissa recognised him as Hiro from their Forest Survival class.  His ice-white hair looked almost fluorescent in the pale moonlight, a sharp contrast to the Nevers’ dark finger glows.  Each glow—red, blue, and green alike—strangely resembled the sinister eyes of a wolf stalking its prey.  Hiro was the furthest thing from prey, Clarissa thought, seeing the way he almost effortlessly held his own even against three opponents.  

She glided over and away from the battle.  The sounds of spells colliding and students yelling faded away, replaced by an odd calm that came with the altitude.  Clarissa flapped her wings once and tilted sideways, allowing the tips of her wing to just barely brush against the edge of the Veil.  The warmth that emanated from the barrier felt strangely comforting.  

With a graceful curve of pristine white wings, the dove dipped smoothly below the trees and landed on a thick branch.  She directed her gaze to the moon, which hung at a tantalising spot just by its peak—deceptively close but not quite there yet.  Clarrisa’s best estimate at the time was either slightly before or just after midnight.  In the Blue Forest, time felt like an illusion; it seemed to go on forever.  

Clarissa froze.  From somewhere below her, she heard somewhat familiar laughter mixed with curses.  The voices felt strangely distant—it was as if she’d grown accustomed to hearing them at some point in time, but her mind stubbornly refused to give her a face or a name to match the sound to.  

She shook her head in frustration and trained her ears on the words being spoken.  Perhaps they would be of better use than her own mind.

“I’m telling you, I cut her!” one exclaimed.  A boy’s voice—chesty and deep.

Another snorted—a girl this time.  Her tone was condescending, and her voice was unusually raspy.  “And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

Laughter bubbled up from the group.  Clarissa could count two more voices that had joined in.  A faint thud resounded—the boy had probably kicked one of his companions.  He didn’t sound very strong, and judging by his friends’ responses, they probably thought the same.

“You’re fucking delusional,” another girl’s voice replied.  It was the most effeminate-sounding voice Clarissa had detected so far.  “It was too dark to see anything.  For all we know, you sliced Sandro.”

“Hey!” a boy—Sandro, presumably—protested.  “I’m stronger than Aiden, I’ll have you know.”

Clarissa was unsure as to how she was meant to interpret their dynamics.  The names mentioned so far were all familiar; they were Evers in her class that she wasn’t very close with.  It wasn’t unusual for her to remain distant from others, but forgetting names was something fairly foreign to her.

“Shut up, all of you,” the first girl hissed.  There were scuffling sounds, followed by a dull thump and a hiss of pain.  (Clarissa’s best guess?  Somebody had gotten punched.)

“Serves you right.”  The second girl snorted softly before asking, “What’s wrong, Vi?”

Vi—most probably Violet from Beautification—shushed the other girl.  “I feel like we’re being watched.”  She paused.  There was silence for a moment before she exhaled.  “Maybe I’m just on edge.  Blue Forest gives me the fucking creeps.”

“You and me both,” the other sighed.  Clarissa heard a scraping, the distinct sound of metal carving wood.  “The Trial’s always a nightmare.  If I could drop out early, I would.”

“And risk failing?” Sandro asked.  His voice sounded vaguely nasally, almost as if he was nursing a head cold.  “Doesn’t sound like you, Isa.”  

Aiden barked out a laugh.  “He’s right,” the boy said.  “You’re fourth-ranked in Good, there’s no way you’d drop out early."

Ah, so that was who the mysterious Isa was.  No wonder she sounded so familiar.  

Isadora of Jaunt Jolie had been a friend of Clarissa’s, up until she had tried to flirt with Reina while she was dating Emma.  (Clarissa could not tolerate infidelity in any sense—the notion of being emotionally unavailable was the whole reason she had turned Killian down, after all.)  Their falling out had been a tremendous loss.

Clarissa’s train of thought was interrupted by a sharp laugh from Isadora.

“Be fucking serious,” the Ever snorted.  “I’m literally ranked fourth .”  Her words were unusually venomous in Clarissa’s ears.  “That means I’m not good enough to be first, second, or even third.  I can fucking drop out if I want to.”

There was a moment of silence.  It was followed by shuffling footsteps and fabric brushing against fabric.  Hushed whispers were carried away by a sudden breeze—Clarissa strained to barely make out the words being spoken. 

“What’s wrong?” Violet said with surprising gentleness.  

Isadora sighed.  “I’m tired, Vi."

Clarissa leaned over slightly to glimpse the scene.  Sandro and Aiden were both standing somewhat to the side, heads together and voices hushed.  In the middle of the area, Isadora stood, head hung, and Violet was moving closer tentatively—as if she was gauging her companion’s mood.  The two strangely resembled Clarissa and Reina in some funny way, except for the obvious romantic chemistry that the blonde was picking up on.  

“I know, sweetheart,” the brunette replied.  Isadora sniffed once, and Violet stepped forward to cup her girlfriend’s face in her hands.  “Hey, hey.  Look at me.  Right at me.”

Face somewhat obscured in the tree’s shadows, the Ever smiled wanly.

Her companion chuckled, smile encouraging and warm.  “That’s it.”

Isadora leaned in closer and planted a soft kiss on her girlfriend’s lips.  “What would I do without you?”

“Give up, probably,” Violet laughed.  She wrapped her arms around the other, allowing Isadora to bury her face in the crook of her neck.  “You’re a fucking mess.”

The other girl snorted.  “You’re the one dating this mess.”

They both laughed, the tension somewhat dissipating.  The taller of the two boys—Aiden—looked their way and wolf-whistled.  It was clearly a signal of sorts, since both girls stiffened.  

There was rustling in the trees around them.  Violet’s hand made its way to her back pocket, reaching for a dagger.  Isadora’s finger began glowing pale blue. Their other companion—Sandro—tilted his head at the source of the noise.  All of the Evers nodded in unison, before running towards it.  (It was not something Clarissa would have done, but she admired their pluck.)

She flapped her wings once and soared over the four running Evers.  They were all wearing weary expressions and bruises on their faces as they ran—evidently, the person they had assaulted put up a very good fight.  

Clarissa wondered just who it could be.

Chapter Text

Lesso hated the Trial by Tale.

From the moment she had set foot onto her path, she had been faced with obstacle after obstacle—each seemingly more tedious and impossibly irritating than the last.  

First, it had been an imbecile from Evil that had thought himself worthy of facing off against her.  (It had only taken a kick to the shin for Lesso to be able to steal his red handkerchief and get rid of him.)  

After that, she’d been faced with a multitude of conjures—there had been a harpy, a troll, and not one, but two reapers that she’d had to deal with alone.  

She paused in her strides to catch her breath.  

The sweat that trickled down the side of her face felt impossibly frigid in the winter air, and the full moon in the sky was blinding.  Lesso dabbed at a shallow-looking cut on her arm and hissed at the contact; the last opponent she had faced was a group of Evers that had decided to bring knives to a swordfight.  Clearly they’d cut deeper than she had initially thought.

“Fucking hell,” the Never cursed under her breath.  

The blood loss was beginning to grow alarming—her blue cloak had thankfully absorbed most of the crimson, just barely tinging itself violet.  She tore a portion of her shirt sleeve off using her teeth and knotted it tightly around the cut.  Stopping the bleeding was her biggest priority—she didn’t have the time or the means to stitch it up yet.  

Lesso groaned softly.  The rough fabric of her shirt that was wrapped around her arm effectively put the needed pressure on the injury, but pressed even deeper into the open wound;  it wouldn’t kill her, but it did hurt like a bitch.  Lesso flexed her bicep against the makeshift bandage.  It stung, but the fabric didn’t tear—all good signs.  She’d survive.

After double-checking to see if her red handkerchief was still safe, she patted down her tunic in an attempt to detect any more hidden injuries.  Apart from a stinging sensation on her ribs that felt suspiciously like a forming bruise, there were no others.  Lesso breathed a sigh of relief.  At least she wouldn’t have to drop out early.

The Never walked further down the path.  Her footsteps were as quiet as she could manage, her grey eyes straining to make out anything down the road or in the trees around her.  She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she hoped for no more surprises.

Of course there was another surprise that awaited her.

A loud crash resounded somewhere to her left.  Lesso held her breath and stood as still as she could.  After a moment, she swore under her breath and ran to it.  There was no way to tell if it was hostile or not, but any sane opponent would not risk making that much noise.  (It was a mentality that Dovey had rubbed off on her; Lesso personally thought that this reasoning was likely to get either of them killed in the foreseeable future.)

As she neared the origin of the sound, Lesso began to make out coherent words being spoken—not all of them were pretty, but the sounds were definitely human.  The Never picked up her pace slightly, keeping her footsteps light.

“Fuck,” a low voice groaned from directly in front of her.  

A silhouette resembling a ball was lying on a patch of grass, leaning on a tree for dear life.  

“Of all the fucking things to go wrong,” it grumbled.

“You alright?” Lesso asked, squinting.  She just barely dodged an orange spell that flew past her ear.  

With a sigh, she added, “Calm the fuck down, Lockhart.  I’m not trying to kill you.”

The figure stiffened.  “Lesso?”

Lesso nodded, holding up her hands in surrender.  “In the flesh.”  She paused.  “Do you need help?”

There was a pause, before Reina nodded.  Lesso moved closer with great caution—a pit viper was most dangerous when it was cornered.  But upon viewing the Ever, she could see that Reina was harmless—she was far too injured to do damage to anybody but herself.

A long gash ran up the side of her neck, just barely cutting into her jaw.  Her cloak was torn and blood-stained—most likely a result of her fall—and there was a bruise forming just above her brow.  None of these were as concerning as the burn that had gone straight through her tunic and melted the skin off her left shoulder.  It was especially worrying that Reina was left-handed like Lesso herself—the loss of the dominant arm was more crippling than anything else in a scenario like the Trial.

“How bad is it?” Reina groaned.  She shifted in an attempt to sit up, but fell back down.  Lesso had to grip her waist to keep her steady. 

The Never lifted the other girl’s cloak around the afflicted area—Reina hissed in pain, but said nothing else.  Lesso winced.  The burnt skin was an angry red, blackening in some parts, and it most likely needed proper treatment.  In a case like this, the most plausible thing to do would be surrender—but that wasn’t how Reina operated, and Lesso knew this.

“It’s definitely something,” Lesso said after a moment.  She pursed her lips, debating what to say next.  “It’s bad, Lockhart.  Really bad.”

Reina laughed mirthlessly before groaning in pain once more.  “Bad enough to surrender?”

Lesso nodded.  “I don’t think you’d last very long in your state.”

The two stared at each other.  Reina’s pain-clouded ego wanted her to stay in the game and persist, but her rational sense screamed at her to drop out and get her injuries treated properly.  Lesso didn’t say anything—she remained silent and intently listened to her companion’s laboured breathing.

“Back pocket,” the Ever finally said.  Reina placed her free hand on Lesso’s shoulder with tremendous effort.  “The red handkerchief.  Drop it.”

Lesso quickly reached in the directed area, fingers closing around the fabric.  Once the handkerchief was in her hand, Reina nodded and muttered soft thanks.  The Never dropped the handkerchief, fabric falling onto the ground like a surrender flag.  She only exhaled once Reina had safely disappeared into sparks.  

“What a fucking night,” the redhead muttered.  

She sat down on the grass where Reina had been, leaning back onto the tree trunk.  There was little comfort she obtained, as the tree was far too bare to cushion her; if anything, it made her back pain worse.  The moon in the sky above indicated that she had a few more hours before sunrise—there was ample time for her to take a rest before heading to the bridge.  

It was strange, the peace that came.  

Trials were often—at least, from Lesso’s experience—spent running and fighting for one’s life.  This was the very first time in her three years competing that a moment like this had come, where she was allowed to sit and breathe and plan her next move.  (It wasn’t like she had many moves to plan, but the silence was very much appreciated.)

After a few minutes of calm, Lesso decided to get up and move.  Her muscles ached and she was likely still bleeding, but she forced her legs to take step after step until she was back on her path.  The Blue Forest was surprisingly quiet—perhaps the majority of the competition had been eliminated already.  Evidently, one of these competitors had left a mark that had unfortunately escaped her initial examination; her breath hitched with every step that came with a stabbing pain in her leg. 

An unsettled feeling grew in the pit of her stomach.  

From a young age, Lesso had conditioned herself to develop a sixth sense—one designed and trained to detect danger.  Evidently, this gut feeling was failing her now.  (How exactly, she wasn’t sure—feelings weren’t exactly Lesso’s strong point.)  

Her other senses felt strangely dulled by the silence that had fallen over the forest.  There was little she could do to avoid danger in her state.  

“My lady?”

Chills erupted all over Lesso’s body.  She halted in her steps, heart racing in her chest.  

Just by the side of the trail, Clarissa Dovey lay, half-dead.

“Dove?” Lesso whispered, the words dying in her throat.

Blood pooled on the ground next to the Ever’s head, the crimson staining her golden curls.  Her pale-blue dress was covered in dirt and grime, fabric torn in all sorts of places.  Dovey’s face was covered in bruises, each one resembling a blooming flower in some sick sense.

The worst part?  It was all Lesso’s fault. 

A dagger—Lesso’s dagger—was lodged in Dovey’s chest.  There was blood that bloomed from the stab wound, the red colouring the blue fabric to create some tragic shade of violet.  It was a pitiful sight, for Dovey’s hands still reached out towards Lesso even as she hung on the brink of death.  Lesso found her hand moving on its own toward a garter that was wrapped around her thigh.  She breathed only once her palm had closed around the dagger’s hilt—the same one that had killed her beloved.

It was a twisted insinuation, as if even if it was by Lesso’s hand that she was to face death, Clarissa Dovey would still forgive her.  

A mere illusion—well-made, granted, but still visibly fake—designed to lure in victims.  Approaching the body would likely result in her elimination from the Trial.  Lesso’s breath caught in her throat.  The reasonable thing to do would be to walk past the conjure and ignore its existence, but an instinct in the depths of her soul longed to do the opposite.  

Emotion.  It was the very thing August had warned her about.  

The School Master’s magic took one’s emotion and turned it against them, creating illusions that would drive them to their own demise.  (Demise was a strong word, there was little dying to be done in the Trial by Tale.)  His conjures had been reported to take on the form of the viewer’s greatest fear.

Evidently, Lesso’s feelings for Dovey ran deeper than she had initially believed.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it before.  

Her affection for Dovey was probably more pronounced and obvious to outsiders than she would like to admit, but she wasn’t stupid—she knew that she cared more for the Ever than anybody else.  There were no reasonable explanations for their chemistry.  They simply worked, in ways neither of them could have expected.  The two could be considered friends—extremely close friends, even.  Perhaps Lesso longed to be closer.

That last thought was pretty scary to her; Nevers were not allowed to engage romantically in any sense.

She inhaled deeply and began walking once more.  Her footsteps felt more like tiptoes as she began creeping past the dying girl.  Lesso’s heart thrummed in her chest; it was the first time all night that she had felt fear—actual, genuine fear for her life.

Each step was torture.  The primal fear that the dying girl would reach out and grab her far outweighed any rationality she might have once had.  She could barely hear anything over the pounding of blood in her ears, but she was also strangely hyperaware of her surroundings as she passed the Ever.

“Why?” the Dovey lookalike croaked.  

Lesso froze once more.  A breath lodged itself in her throat. 

Dovey turned on her other side, hand extended towards Lesso. 

“Why would you do this to me, my lady?” she said, voice cracking with betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” the Never whispered just as softly.  Lesso turned her head to meet the conjure’s eyes.  “You’re not my Dovey.”  

She hesitated as she looked away.  “If you were, you would know that I’d never hurt you.”

I love you too much , she didn’t say aloud.  The illusion didn’t reply.

Lesso took a deep breath.  She counted one, two, three long seconds before she decided to move.  

Pulling off the midnight-blue cloak that hung around her shoulders, the Never turned and covered the fake Dovey with the fabric. 

“There,” she muttered.  Her legs ached as she sat on the ground by the cadaver, but she ignored it in favour of giving the conjure a consoling pat.  “I’m really sorry for what that bastard did to you.”

A few moments passed.  Lesso sat quietly, as if keeping the poor illusion company.  It was rare for her to exhibit any emotion—an admirable trait that would kill her someday, August had once said—so it was surprising that she had even the slightest bit of sympathy for this mere obstacle on the road to the bridge where Dovey, her Dovey, was waiting.

The moon sank lower in the sky above.  

She had to keep going; Lesso knew that she’d only waste time if she didn’t force herself to move at that very moment.  

With much effort, the Never stood.  She shook the numbness out of her legs and began limping down the path once more.  The silence of the Blue Forest, combined with the stress of what had just happened, gave her ample time to think.

While she was walking, three questions came to mind:

1. Was there really any point in pretending she wasn’t madly in love with Clarissa Dovey?
2. In a world where Good and Evil weren’t kept apart, would they still have chosen each other?
3. If she was to die tonight, would she regret not having kissed her princess when she had the chance?

There was a reason that the School Master’s conjure had taken on the form of the Ever, Lesso realised.  It had been a tremendous, well-needed wake-up call that had hit her in the face like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Her take-away?

Lesso needed to find her way back to her princess, no matter what it took.

Chapter Text

There was a reason the bridge was so significant to them.

Outsiders were simply aware that an agreement existed between them, wherein they met up somewhere in the Blue Forest before dawn no matter what the outcome of the Trial might have been.  These people didn’t know where, or why they did it—they merely accepted the tradition as fact and never questioned the outcome.  

In a school where everything was made of glass, this enigmatic tradition was an ivy-covered stone house, ever shrouded in an air of mystery that refused to clear away.

Tucked away somewhere in the depths of the woods, the mystical meeting place was a simple rope bridge built over a small ravine.  Not many knew about its existence, as one would have to stray far from the main path to even glimpse it.  The Blue Forest had many trails leading through its depths, each one different from the last.  Dovey and Lesso’s Trial routes skirted around the location, two separate paths an equal distance to the bridge.

It had been mere coincidence, the way they had discovered it.

During their first year, Lesso had saved Dovey from walking headlong into a ditch.  It had been the beginning of everything for them; they considered it their day one of sorts.  This incident had not eluded Yuba, and he’d mentioned it to the faculty out of concern.  They’d commissioned the bridge to be built a week after.  Neither girl knew this, of course; they had simply assumed the bridge had appeared out of nowhere.  

Over the years, they’d grown into the space, filling it with their life together.  

Planted around the ditch were a variety of herbs and flowers that Dovey had spent months handpicking and cultivating.  (Lesso had remarked on it only once, referring to the bridge as the “princess’ garden.”  Dovey had simply kicked her ass in response.)  They grew seasonally, a different set of colours blooming around the bridge depending on the time of year.

Lesso herself kept a collection of spell books and potion materials in a gilded chest that was sealed with a padlock.  It was tucked away by one of the poles that supported the bridge’s weight.  Only two keys existed; one of them hung around Lesso’s neck, and the other was among Dovey’s prized belongings—as if the key to Lesso’s treasures was a treasure in itself.

Safe to say, the bridge was a safe haven for the two.  They’d sought it out time after time, sneaking out of school grounds to meet in the Blue Forest.  When one of them asked to meet there instead of Lesso’s classroom or by the lake, the other would do everything in her power to wash away whatever pains the day might have wrought.

The bridge—their bridge—had become synonymous with home, for it was the place where they came to find each other, no matter how far apart they might have once been.  It was for this reason that they were fighting the odds with every inch of their being, so that they might conquer the Trial by Tale together and finally return home to one another.  

Lesso stared up at the sky, steps halted by a tree stump just slightly off the main trail.  Her fists clenched and unclenched as a ragged breath tore itself from her throat.  The moonlight seemed to falter for a moment—but perhaps it was merely the exhaustion clouding Lesso’s vision.  

She sighed.  It was about time she got moving.

Somehow, the final moments leading up to their reunion was always hardest on the Never—as if her mind refused to align with her heart’s desires.  Each step was unsteady, weighed down with something that oddly resembled hesitation.  Lesso counted the number of paces it took to reach the bridge, chest throbbing in sync with each footfall. 

After twenty-six counts, Lesso stopped short.  She glimpsed a familiar halo of gold through the trees just by the bridge, surrounded by snow-covered vines and blossoms.  The clearing was just before her, and yet her feet stubbornly remained frozen to the ground.

For reasons beyond the Never’s comprehension, Dovey held a strange power over Lesso.  It was not a stretch to say that Lesso had been bewitched—body and soul, heart and mind, or whatever the poets might have once said.  

She stepped forward into the pale light, breath steaming in the cool winter air.  

The only thing poetry ever got right about love, Lesso had found, was how it affected a person’s very being, fully and irrevocably.  She would write—odes, sonnets, couplets—only if it could capture even a facet of the emotions Dovey had unlocked in her.  Whatever had once seemed inconceivable became a solid reality when they were together.

Words bubbled up from the back of her throat—a call to the Ever—then froze on the tip of her tongue.  Her steps began picking up pace, as if her body had finally caught on to the knowledge that Lesso was finally on her way home.  

Dovey still had not noticed the Never’s presence, as she was busy tending to her beloved plants, but it was better this way.  Lesso almost didn’t mind the fact that she had lost the race, making her the rotten egg.  She was simply relieved just to see Dovey—her Dovey—alive and well.  

As Lesso neared the bridge, she began to make out a faint melody.  It was a song Evergirls sang often, a pathetic ode to princes and weddings, but its familiarity was more than welcome in the current circumstances.  She smiled and broke into a run, leg injuries long forgotten.

Right at that moment, Dovey’s foot slipped.  Her weight began to shift in a half-fall off the edge and into the ditch.  It was an impossibly long five seconds—one could have almost heard Lesso’s heartbeat reverberate all across the clearing, two pronounced thumps echoing over dead silence.  

The Never’s hand reached out just then, mirroring the Ever’s own.  Palms collided against clothed wrists, grey eyes met hazel ones, and two heartbeats rang as one. 

“Hi,” Dovey exhaled. 

Lesso chuckled with a teasing smile.  “Careful where you’re walking there, princess.”

A strained exhale escaped the redhead, her biceps stretching the makeshift bandage with the effort.  Lesso bit her lip with a silent groan of pain.  She could feel her cut reopening—the prolonged agony was quite frankly the most torture she had ever experienced, but she ignored it in favour of making sure her companion was alright.  

Dovey’s foot dug into the ground as Lesso pulled her up and out of the ditch.  The Ever stepped forward tentatively.  Her hands came to rest on the Never’s shoulders, skin burning impossibly warm against bare, glacial skin.  

“Whatever happened to not being Prince Charming?” the blonde teased lightly.

Lesso laughed—a low, hoarse sound that sent a chill down Dovey’s spine.  She tilted her head, hands closing around her companion’s wrists with a remarkable tenderness.  

“Would you have preferred I let you fall?” the redhead shot back with no real bite in her voice.  

The silence that followed was profoundly hypnotic.  In the quiet, Dovey’s eyes found themselves fixated on Lesso’s.  The Never’s gaze trailed just slightly lower—past Dovey’s red nose and freckle-stained cheeks, right down to the crest of the Ever’s cold-bitten lips.  Neither dared breathe as the distance between them grew smaller and smaller with every beat of their frantic hearts.  

“Can you feel it?” Dovey breathed.  She took Lesso’s hand in her own and placed it on her chest.  “My heart.  It’s racing like crazy.”

At her companion’s words, time itself seemed to wrap around Lesso’s throat in a strangling motion.  The Never nodded stupidly, all senses training on the thrumming sensation under her palm.  She forced her gaze onto Dovey’s hazel eyes, which were staring up at her expectantly.  

Lesso cleared her throat.  “I suppose nearly falling down a ditch does that to a person,” she coughed out.  “Thank goodness I caught you in time.”

Dovey only nodded in response.  Her free hand lifted as if about to touch Lesso, before falling limply at the Ever’s side.

Another silence settled over them.  This calm was different—it was more tense than anything else.  The tension stemmed from the singular fact that both longed to move forward, to touch one another, to do anything to break the spell that had befallen the two.  Lesso stepped forward, an almost imperceptible movement that took them both by surprise.

In that instant, something changed.  

Dovey’s eyes took on a hungry glint, curiously observing every one of Lesso’s movements.  Both of them were seemingly unaware of their intertwined hands still resting on the Ever’s chest, if their racing heartbeats were anything to go by. 

Lesso slowly detangled her fingers from Dovey’s and ignored the frustrated sigh that escaped her companion.  The momentary lack of contact was merely a step toward her goal, after all.

She cupped the Ever’s face in her hands, closed her eyes and leaned in, crashing their lips together in a kiss so forceful—so passionate—it shocked the air right out of their lungs.  The kiss was far from perfect—their teeth clashed, and Lesso’s mouth tasted strangely like blood—but it was the most exhilarating thing either of them had ever experienced.  

Dovey’s hands gripped the back of Lesso’s neck, pulling her closer and closer as if trying to coax the Never into letting her drink in every breath that poured from Lesso’s lungs.  The said Never obliged anyway.  There was, after all, nothing she could refuse her beloved princess.

When they finally broke apart breathlessly, Lesso rested her forehead against Dovey’s and smiled.  Her fingers began to thread themselves in the Ever’s hair.  “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d die in something as pathetic as a Trial,” Dovey laughed in response.  She opened her eyes to look up at Lesso, expression tender.  “I made a promise.”

The sun began creeping over the horizon, bathing the clearing in a golden glow.  Lesso and Dovey barely paid it any mind.  Both were aware of only the rise and fall of their chests with each heaving breath, of the steady thrum emanating from their hearts, of each other’s very presence that brought both of them to life.  They stood by the bridge, foreheads pressed together, as the Veil collapsed to bare the Blue Forest in all its glory. 

Cheers erupted from both sides of the school.  The two tore away from one another, focusing on the familiar faces filled with joyous expressions.  Students and faculty alike passed money around; it was extremely apparent that they were all ridiculously grateful that the two— those two—had finally pulled their shit together and made a move.

As for those two, they submitted themselves to proper medical examination as victors of the Trial by Tale.  Lesso’s arm was finally stitched up and her broken ribs were given the attention they deserved.  Dovey had sustained remarkably few injuries, given that she had spent most of the contest as some kind of animal, but she stood by Lesso’s side to hold her hand through all the formalities.

“So you won,” Lesso chuckled once they were finally given a moment to themselves.  

Dovey simply smiled and interlaced their fingers in response.  “So I won.”

They were seated on the floor of the Never’s classroom, Dovey’s head resting on Lesso’s shoulder.  Bandages wrapped around Lesso’s right arm, and Dovey’s twisted ankle sported a fresh cast.  Lukewarm mugs of tea rested between their legs, beverages long forgotten.  Both were weary as they watched the sun through the windows.  

“You kept your promise,” the Never shrugged.  “That means I have to keep mine too.”

“How chivalrous.”

Lesso flicked Dovey’s forehead with a fond expression.  “Bare minimum, princess.”

“Oh, how it thrills me,” Dovey drawled.  Her words began to slur, eyelids drooping from exhaustion.  “At least I won’t have to dance with any of those prissy Everboys this year.”  She paused for a moment with a quizzical look on her face.  “How are you getting in?”

“Leave that to me,” Lesso said, smiling.  She brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on Dovey’s face.  “Get some rest, princess.  You did well.”

Dovey blinked up at Lesso.  “Stay?”

Lesso blinked back in response.  “Of course.”

The Ever sighed contentedly.  Her chest was flush against Lesso’s side, heartbeat thrumming with life clearer than the sunrise before them.  Lesso, wearing an affectionate smile, leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss onto Dovey’s forehead.  

In the quiet, one could have almost missed the soft words murmured against Dovey’s skin.  I love you, I love you, I love you, whispered over and over again amidst gentle kisses.   

But Dovey heard.  Even in her sleep-drunk state, her heart still called out to the Never.  I love you, I love you, I love you, uttered soundlessly through the steady pulse of life in her body.

They were no longer competitors in the Trial by Tale, nor were they students in a fairy tale.  They were simply a love story written between the pages of history, designed to be remembered only by the ones who had lived through it. 

Right in that moment, two hearts—twin flames, Good and Evil in perfect balance—spoke a language to one another that only they understood.  And it was magnificent.