Chapter Text
"Assisting with the confessions again, are you?"
The professor said nothing in response, his expression stoic and giving nothing away. If Sothis didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was trying not to draw any attention to her existence, but that wasn't the case at all. He simply treated her just like he treated all his students - tactlessly.
"These poor children," she continued. "Their woes relegated to slips of paper to be packed into a box. Answered by laymen."
And still the professor remained silent. He took two cards, and shut the box. Only two? How curious. She peered over his shoulder.
I am sometimes unable to wield my own strength. She read. I worry I might hurt my own friends. How can I overcome this?
"Ah, you know who this one is. The Blaiddyd never were very smart."
The professor shuffled the letter behind the next one.
People don't treat me with the respect I deserve. They only see my exterior. What should I do to show them I am worthy of their respect?
"This one is a little trickier,” Sothis said. "Perhaps it is that daughter of the house Ordelia?"
The professor shrugged and scribbled something onto the backs of both confessions. Sothis couldn't see what he had written, before he returned them to the box. He turned heel and started back towards the entrance of the cathedral, Sothis sailing behind him. She brought her finger to her chin, and shut her eyes.
"Those two children are very much like opposites. That Dimitri is well respected, while Lysithea is the runt of the litter. But she is sickly where Dimitri is strong and yet he doesn't appreciate that strength."
They passed on through the bridge between the cathedral and the rest of the monastery, the professor remaining silent.
"...The domain of my power goes beyond just time, you know." Sothis hummed.
Finally, the professor turned his eyes to her, keeping his head straight still. "How so?" he grumbled.
She grinned, satisfied to have wrestled words from his mouth. "A mortal like yourself shouldn't be so concerned with the how. All you need to know is I am willing to spare some power to assist those two students with their problems."
"This is uncharacteristic of you."
"You should watch your tongue, young one! I simply wish for a more lively experience here at the monastery. I can’t be waiting between monthly missions for something exciting to happen, now can I?"
The professor returned to the usual treatment he gave Sothis. Silence. The professor was such a bore. He sauntered through the monastery’s main hall without hailing a single person. Even his poor students were ignored , she thought.
Ignoring the boring ones was fine, but this man must have had nerves of black-sand steel considering the spectacles he simply grazed past.
As he cut through the garden on his shortcut to his study, that behemoth of a teenager Raphael attempted to climb what had to have been the skinniest and wimpiest tree in 1000 paces around. And all because a kitten had gotten stuck on the top branch. There had to have been hundreds, if not thousands, of cats around the monastery, and Sothis could never go without spotting at least a dozen new ones every day. Why he chose to throw away his dignity for this one was beyond her comprehension.
Really there was no reason he couldn't have just bent the branch down to retrieve the cat, but he chose to hug and hump his way up the trunk.
And the professor had just walked past that. Didn't he know all work and no play makes a dull boy? Phooey.
The professor returned to his dorm, and quickly sat down at his desk, Sothis sighed. More studies… Would she really have to make her own fun?
A smirk creeped up her lips. Well she might as well…
The professor might not like this, but what does a child like him know? It’s a learning opportunity for the students, really.
Night couldn’t come any sooner…
Dimitri's body burned colder than any Faerghus winter. He pried open his eyes, but they fought and wrestled to remain shut. From what he could see, it was a blur. Goddess, he felt terrible…! His back and his hips felt like they wanted to break away from his spine. Was he sick? He had never really been sick before.
He probably just needed a little warm-up. Grabbing the bed frame for support he hoisted himself up-
*Crack*
His back arched in shock, as his spine wanted to bend in two. If he continued, he was going to rip himself apart. Gritting and sucking his teeth, he collapsed on his side to avoid the pain, but misjudged the distance and struck the headboard of his bed.
“Mmmf-...!" he cried. This was going to leave a mark.
He rubbed his fingers over the impression left on his head, brushing his hairs out of the way. It stung and the skin was already warm and tender. At least this was a distraction, if temporary, from how he might have just broken his back. Some consolation prize this was…
“Goddess…" he whimpered, before clasping his hand over his mouth, eyes snapping wide open. His voice was- Was it his ?! His throat squeezed, almost too scared to speak again.
He massaged his neck and throat, something feeling missing, before trying again.
“Uh, Hello-” And immediately again, he stopped himself from speaking. That voice- it was not his, but it sounded familiar. Perhaps he really caught something…? A cold... Never had he heard of a knight of Faerghus—let alone the king—succumb to common illness like this.
He groaned, rolling back over in bed, taking a look through the window to catch the time. He expected to see the rising sun, but it was missing. Bright as the sky was, he couldn’t see it. A tree blocked most of his view, which might have explained why he couldn’t see the sun but… That hadn’t always been there, had it…? He didn’t need an astrologist or a botanist to know that something wasn’t right.
Hair slipped over his eye as he continued to stare through the window. Blast it all, he needed a haircut. It was too long. Long enough, in fact, to fall over his… shoulder?
He scrambled off the mattress and away from the strange white hair, his bones creaking and groaning as he failed to get far, but the hair followed. It draped over his nightshirt, and pooled into his hands. He didn’t wear a nightshirt to bed… He never wore a shirt to bed…!
He threw the sheets off his body, his muscles straining to lift the oddly heavy bedding, and scampered to look for a mirror. He scanned its usual place in the corner, but it was missing. His eyes darted every which way to look for it, but still- it was missing. More concerning than a missing mirror, though, were the gold-yellow curtains draped over the window. In-fact, the entire room was decorated with not just wrongly colored furniture, but wrong furniture . How could he have missed this?
And the banner hanging on the wall-
Golden Deer.
Instead of the lion of Faerghus proudly on display, instead there was a golden deer. Even if he wanted to speak with whatever voice he had, he was rendered mute, only choked-up gasps leaving his lips.
He was far from a scholar, but he wasn’t stupid. Between periods of shock staring at the banner, he came to the conclusion. Either he had a really nasty cold, and Claude was playing a bad prank on him, or he was somebody else.
He took a seat on the bed, and examined his body. Long white hair, black academy nightgown, pinkishly pale and thin arms. He had to have been a… No - That would be crazy- But…
He fell back and disintegrated into the mattress. The bedding was a mess now, and his legs hung over the side of the bed frame. They should have been able to reach the floor, but…… He was no longer him , was he…?
Who did this…? Who would dare...?! To him …! They would pay, but- Damn them!
For a minute, he focused on the dust floating in the sunbeam.. It was so strange seeing the light come from that angle… It was the other way in his room. This had to be a dream. Just a weird dream… Of course. That’s what it had to be. He should just go to sleep and wake up.