"Don't talk to me." Kaeth groaned as Wilroy settled beside him.
Odd.
"Most certainly bizarre," as the Duciel family butler would say.
On most days, his pink-haired friend had an effervescent smile pasted onto his face, like the fluorescence of magic stones lamps decorating the halls of the Duciel family manor; a vivacious grin cut from same blinding cloth as the sun's golden lining.
On this particular instance, Kaeth Xilven seemed troubled. The proof resided in his pinched eyebrows, and in the particular purse of his lips which drew a similar portrait to a theatre mask of tragedy. He had leaned forward onto the dining table, his figure full of despair.
As well, generally, when people do not want to be spoken to, it is usually to gather themselves in silence.
But Kaeth didn't particularly enjoy silence.
Wilroy waited an appropriate two minutes and a half before he spoke.
"What upset you today?"
Kaeth glanced at him, a quick glimpse of midnight blue.
"Sometimes, I feel like you speak like this on purpose." he sighed mournfully, sinking on his seat as if he wished to hide under the table. "Oh woe unto I, who has such a callous friend."
Wilroy waited patiently. Callous as he may be, Kaeth always caved. It was his "pathological need for dramatics" as another friend called it.
"What kind of professor gives a surprise quiz on the first day anyway?" Kaeth grumbled. "No, really. What kind of professor adds plant eugenics to the course plan? A psychopath. He is a psychopath. Not only do I have a callous friend, but I also have a crazy professor."
"Even if he is callous, at least Duciel has the patience to listen to your theatrical whims." Azriel said as she unceremoniously dumped her textbooks onto the table. "And Monet isn't actually that bad."
"Betrayal! We should've bonded by virtue of our common trauma!" Kaeth shot up. Sitting upright, he pointed an accusative finger towards Azriel.
"You and I both suffered through that quiz. Don't tell me you actually think it's some kind of genius mastermind plan of his to assign us a freaking ten pages long test on the first day!"
"Well, I believe-"
Wilroy half-heartedly listened to the argument while he finished his plate.
While the two argued in loud voices, their slack postures indicated casualness and relaxation, evidence for typical teenage foolery.
He polished another bite before a presence behind him rapidly caught his attention.
Turning back, he spotted a halo of golden hair, and a dead fish eye look.
Cellan settled with the slowness of an old dog walking to its death, and dropped his forehead onto the table top.
"Afternoon to you too, Cel. What wars did you go through?"
"Leave elf boy be, he looks dead on his feet."
Cellan made an appropriate 'dead on his feet' sound.
It was then very clear to Wilroy that Cellan also had had an unpleasant morning.
"Something happened to you..?" The flat statement was phrased like a question, but, as always, Wilroy had fallen short on the delivery.
"What he means is- Who did this to you? You were full of joy as of last night when we went drin-"
"Shut up."
"Hey- this is harassment! Let go!"
Cellan, wisely ignoring Azriel and Kaeth's squabbling, sat up with a look that Wilroy learned was of defeat.
"My sponsor is professor Monet."
Who?
"My weird Advanced Plant Biology teacher." Kaeth quickly supplanted the necessary information, before responding to Cellan. "That sucks, man. I would also hate that my sponsor supports plant eugenics-"
"No, it's not that!"
The blonde elf's voice was taut— a tell-tale sign that he had been tumbling the same issue in his mind for a prolonged period of time.
"He's." Cellan knit his brow, then gave a defeated sigh. "He's that man from the forest."
"Who?"
Wilroy frowned, searching through his memories. Something about a forest...?
"What the hell? That man?" Azriel raised her eyebrows.
"What are you guys talking about?" Kaeth asked again, looking repeatedly between Cellan and Azriel. His swivelling head had the same stringy movement the Duciel family butler would take when inspecting the garden.
Gardening...
"The botanist." Wilroy realized.
"Who?"
"Are you slow in the head? The man who gave elf boy a fright!"
Kaeth's eyes lit up in recognition. "Ohhh. That guy. Wait. That's Bernie?"
Azriel face palmed.
Cellan, by now, had lost most of his high-strung energy. He squinted at his pink-haired friend, then nudged his glasses.
"You two spent a whole class with him and simply never realized?"
"Well- He was different!" shouted Kaeth, flustered.
"When we met him, he was all shifty and mysterious." Azriel added while scrunching her nose. "Like he desperately didn't want to associate with us."
"And then?"
"Hate to admit it, but Monet looks decently competent." Kaeth replied, rolling his eyes. "And crazy too, I guess."
Wilroy scrunched his nose.
He should've chosen Advanced Magic Plants instead of Quantum Theory of Mana. Even if the latter would be more interesting, at least he wouldn't have missed the man's appearance.
Kaeth turned to him, puzzlement etched onto his face. "Do you remember if Monet had a Welxorth badge on him that day? Cel said he saw something glow under his coat."
Wilroy frowned, recalling any memories of a golden gleam.
"He was in possession of a badge." he replied after a short silence.
"And you didn't tell us?" Kaeth pressed.
He shrugged.
"It didn't seem like a big deal."
It was a commoner-like behavior the family butler had tried numerous times to eject out of his body to no avail— Wilroy had marked it as his preferred movement when expressing casualness.
Kaeth appeared to believe him and continued with a rampage of words.
"No, really. You didn't miss much. He looks exactly the same, just. You know, dressed like a researcher mage. Either way, you have the first period free, right? Just join us during class. I'm sure he won't mind."
Cellan seemed skeptical.
"But won't he have to take the exams and do the exercises?"
"Ah, I'm sure Az won't mind if-"
"You!-"
Wilroy shook his head slowly and smiled. "Thank you, but I will decline."
"Don't you guys think it's suspicious that he didn't bother introducing himself as a Welxorth professor?" Cellan nudged his glasses. "Why be just 'some botanist' when you could immediately get most people's trust by claiming to be associated with the Academy?"
"Unless... he wasn't supposed to be in that forest! Wouldn't that fancy Dawn Tower supply him with plants anyway?"
"Assuming the little bastard comes from there." Azriel frowned.
Wilroy inwardly agreed with his friends. It was indeed a human characteristic to seek aid from those that could offer it for free.
"All of our teachers are from Dawn Tower." Cellan deadpanned. "The Academy wouldn't be caught dead colliding with a Dusk mage."
"Maybe he just really likes nature." Kaeth suggested.
Cellan gave him a dry stare. "Are you seriously judging based on a stereotype? You?"
"Alright, alright." Kaeth raised his hands in a surrendering motion, a smile on his face. "I was just playing devil's advocate. I also think it's weird."
"It's too early to conclude." Azriel cut the discussion short as she stood up. "Lunch time is over, either way. I'll believe your theory when you give me solid proof, elf boy."
"I'll get it by the end of this week." Cellan said with conviction, pushing himself up as well.
Watching his friends leave, Wilroy had a dull feeling in his chest— a foreboding of some sorts.
What were they getting themselves into?
***
At the same time, in Bernard Monet's office.
[Bastard, why are you making me do your dirty work?
I submitted your rotten sample to one of the clinics, and the tests were positive.
Congratulations are due. Only a month in and you've already found yourself in trouble.
As per discussed, I've captured a few more samples. Do tell when it will be time to release them, they are dirtying my ship with their foul aura.
I will leave the day after tomorrow at noon for Luxevre, so forget about giving me any more tasks. If you haven't decided by then I'll dump the things in the bay.
May Fate bless your arrangements,
P.S. I asked around and nothing's new. Regular trading is still en force.
P.]
Ilrune read the letter with growing amusement.
As always, ever so entertaining.
I had expected a positive result. That poor chimera was bleeding corruption from its maw. Perseis was right to look into the sewers. There must be a colony of the chimeras, living as though they were each others' family.
That just about confirms my theory.
Creating those chimeras is only the first step, a mere test as to see how it would theoretically work.
Someone is trying to fuse mana and corruption together.
But why do it in Vilste? Why do it near an Academy known for hosting prodigies and talented students? What's the point in releasing them in a low to mid tier forest instead of inside Welxorth?
Ilrune put the pen down and glanced at his notebook. He had outlined a row of questions, and yet, was left without a single answer.
I had Perseis ask around the black market for anything strange or fantastical going on, and he reports none. Are they lying to him or is this mysterious alchemist not sourcing from the black market?
A person buying an odd selection of things, no matter whether they are in the black market or the overworld market, will always solicit attention. Yet, it was odd that none of the merchants was struck by the strange combination of the bought objects.
Unless they buy every animal part and magic stone separately. This mage is one hell of a crafty person. Any bigger than that, then this isn't a singular alchemist's work, but a group of people's. There might even possibly be an organization supporting them.
Ilrune sighed, and scribbled in his notebook.
[X Alchemist]
[Group of people???]
[Release to authority?]
What should I do with the extra samples? I need to bring the creatures into the officials' attention, but I'd rather die than go to the report station myself.
...Just watching that campaign from the sidelines was rough. I can't even imagine being in it and fighting myself.
Ilrune briefly entertained the idea of releasing the creatures inside the Academy, an amused smile rising at the thought.
But, soon after, he dissmissed it.
Too many people would die, and it'll create a bigger scandal than just revealing those creatures. Agh, what to do... what to do...
He leaned back into his office chair and stared blankly at the ceiling.
Next to a soldier's patrol route? But can I ensure that they won't die from fighting them? Foot soldiers are not even level five mages. They can't fight without magic circles.
"Humans," he sighed. "Always needing those magic circles."
But he did know a group that didn't need magical circles.
They'd be sad excuses for teachers if they didn't know how to cast spells without drawing.
Ilrune picked up the invitation discarded on his desk, recalling an interaction he had just before entering his office.
- "If you must reconsider anything in your life, let this be your once."
- "Those are... quite the dramatic words."
- "Consider it a favour you're doing for me."
- "I'll think about it."
[Mr. Theodore d'Este requests the honour of Mr. B. Monet and Mr. L. Xieping's company at a shooting party for whitetail monsters on Saturday evening, September 6th at seven o'clock.]
"I would bet a gold coin that this was Professor Di Baux's idea." Ilrune snorted, throwing the invitation into the flames.
"Let's give them a little something to hunt, shall we?"