Tag Archives: beas mom

Chapter 69: Departures

“Your priest robes…  They look so… so adorable….”

Emi’s reaction was, beat for beat, the exact same as her Mom’s a week prior, and her Dad’s the following morning. It was amazing how people turned into exact copies when it came to complimenting fashion.

“It’s not even the official robes,” Beatrice said. “Just a casual uniform.”

“Fair enough, but… Oh, you look great no matter what,” Emi said.

“You’re just trying to get in my skirt, aren’t you?” Beatrice smirked.

“Well, Is it working?”

“No way.”

Emi shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

There was a small group gathered here to see Beatrice off. Her parents, naturally, and Emi, of course. But also Bodhi himself had arrived, which surprised her but warmed her heart as well. For some reason, Emi’s housekeeper Pip was also here, but Beatrice was pretty sure she had never actually had a one-on-one conversation with her before, so… Well, it was good to see her anyway.

The party was almost complete, but not quite yet, until… Huh?!

Tia Knoll and Runa Arakawa strolled to the gathering site, hand-in-hand.

When Beatrice saw this, she gasped. How did those two even meet?  Certainly it wasn’t during the Battle of Balarand, was it? …Was it? In the stress of the moment, did they really look at each other and suddenly…

Wow.

Beatrice was about to join her group of new priests who would take the next several weeks to hike towards their convent. She had complained about the carriage ride taking too long, but she was now regretting ever thinking such things. Hiking for WEEKS? It was going to be ruthless, she knew already.

“You know,” she said to Emi. “In the end, it turns out my convent is right near Mammoth Pass. I feel like that’s the Gods playing a prank.”

“Probably,” Emi said. “You’re going to be in for some tough winters, though. Do you have all your winter clothes?”

“Nope. Just what’s in my bag over there.” She pointed towards a large backpack with some food, a sleeping bag, and a few other supplies attached. It was really heavy and carrying that on her back for weeks was going to prove very tough, but she tried not to think about that right now. “I’m going to try to buy new clothes when I get there, but our allowances are very low, so it might be tough.”

“Well, the Gods will provide,” Emi said. 

Beatrice wasn’t sure whether that was sarcasm or not.

“So, how’s, uh, Lady Khara?” Beatrice asked. “Is she, uh, treating you well?”

“Yeah,” Emi said. “She’s making me… uh, show her around town and stuff. She’s, uh, nice. You know.” Both of them burst into laughter just as much as they blushed. 

Emi stepped back and let Beatrice’s parents give one last hug. “We love you so much,” they said together. 

“And I love you, too,” she said. “I’ll try to see you during the Winter Ceremonies, okay?”

“You have to promise you’ll come,” Mom said. “We’ll come back up too, you know.”

“I can’t promise! That’s half a year away. I don’t know what my schedule will be like then.”

“Write often,” Dad said. “And tell me all about the convent. I have heard yours was one of the very first ever built. It must be so beautiful.”

“Dad…”

“Just asking.”

“Well, you better write often about Kent too, then,” she said. “I really hope you enjoy it down there.”

“I just hope I figure out how to be a teacher,” he replied. “I’m already getting worried about it.”

She waved goodbye to Runa and Tia. “You guys better have a good time without me,” she said.

“Tia here has promised financing my research,” Runa said. “I could not imagine a better time than that. My quest for control of the fabric of reality has grown ever closer to completion.”

“Oh, Runa, you’re never going to give that up, are you?”

“Of course not. And I cannot forgive you for your transgressions against me. Leaving me in my time of greatest need, abandoning me to work with the Church… It breaks my heart, Ms. Ragnell.” Tia laughed, but Beatrice wasn’t sure whether he realized how serious Runa really was about all of this. 

Beatrice said her goodbyes to Bodhi and Pip. “Thank you so much for coming, Bodhi. You’re a good friend, and I hope you can be a good friend to a lot of people someday.”

He snickered. “You say that like I don’t already have tons of friends.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Take care, Bea.” He tipped his hat down and gave a single not.

“Don’t call me Bea.”

Pip sobbed and blew her nose through a handkerchief. “Oh, Beatrice…”

“Oh, and, um, goodbye to you too…”

“Beatrice…!”

Uhh… Okay then…

“Well, it’s about time for me to meet up with my group,” Beatrice said. “I’m going to miss all of you so much. Thank you for coming here.”

One last thing…

She turned to Emi–

Who was holding a small metallic box in her hands. It looked a lot like the one that showed off the horse, the one Beatrice had broken so long ago.

“One last thing,” Emi said. “I made you a going-away present. For friendship.” She held the machine with both hands, and then used her magic to turn the crank. Still a show-off.

The machine showed Beatrice, her visage replicated on a board of hundreds of small squares, turned into a tiny animated woman. Her hair and all its curls flowed in the wind, and she was smiling, looking directly at the viewer.

The whole thing lasted for only two, maybe three seconds, before it looped back and started over. But she must have stared for a full minute before she looked away.

“It’s a moving portrait of you,” Emi told her. “I made it really small so that you can take it with you anywhere. But don’t try to reprogram it, or the whole thing will break. Trust me.”

“Oh, Emi…” Beatrice held a hand to her own cheek. “You know I can’t have possessions.”

“You can’t?”

“But… I love it.”

“You do?”

“I’ll let my parents have it.”

“But, if they take it, then you won’t have it. And then…”

Beatrice stepped forward and took both of Emi’s hands. “I’m never going to forget about you,” Beatrice said. “Never for my entire life. Just because we’re apart doesn’t mean you won’t have been the best thing to ever happen to me, okay? The Gods didn’t want us to be apart. They wanted us to be together, and that’s what happened.”

“I love you so much,” Emi said, tears already rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes glowed–those same bright brown eyes that sucked her into a portal of magic and romance that changed the course of her entire life. “I want to see you again, Beatrice… I know we promised not to say these things, but I can’t help it. I miss you already and you’re not even gone.”

“If the Gods Will it, we’ll meet again, okay? Whenever it may be.”

“Will you write letters?” Emi asked.

“I’m not sure if your wife will think that is appropriate.” Beatrice giggled, and then started crying as well. She let go of Emi’s hands and went back to pick up her backpack. Wow… this was so heavy. She really didn’t want to carry this on her back for ten hours a day.

“See you later,” Emi said.

Beatrice shook her head, smiling. “Farewell,” she said. Emi and Beatrice’s Dad hugged, and her Mom fiddled around with that mechanical contraption. Runa rambled about a new master plan, and Tia looked at Beatrice’s robes with a judging gaze. Bodhi’s looked off in another direction with his arms folded, clearly trying not to cry, and Pip had let her emotions flow, crying louder than anyone else around her. What a bunch of weirdos, Beatrice thought. Some amazing weirdos.

She let her mind paint a portrait of this scene, and keep it burned into her mind for the rest of her life. These were exactly the people Beatrice knew she had to protect. She was a powerful person who accomplished everything she set her mind to, and becoming a famous priest would be no harder than acing a test. But now, after everything, she finally had a reason behind her ambition. She would do everything she could to keep the smiles on these people’s faces bright and harmonious.

In her future, Beatrice would become a powerful and prominent priest. She would revolutionize the Church to actually help people, to actually bring the harmony it lacked so much in this time. Each person saved, each life given new breath, would be a new piece to bringing peace to this tumultuous continent. Everything Beatrice did would matter. It had to, or else all of this would be for nothing.

After one last moment of reflection, Beatrice waved to all her friends and family, and then walked away. 

She didn’t look back.

<== Previous ♡ Next ==>

Chapter 64: Calm

Dannark’s response to the rebellion was swift and harsh.

In the end, none of the rebels’ planned executions had occurred; the chaos caused by the homunculus helped Dannark retake the castle and any remaining prisoners had been freed soon after. It was unclear whether or not they ever planned to do anything beyond imprison and intimidate, anyway. The rebels were a mix of idealists and novices, so mass execution never truly seemed in the cards.

Dannark, on the other hand, had been carrying out sentencing from the moment the rebel leaders were captured. Beatrice’s teacher was one of them. Ulric Statusian was already scheduled to be shipped off to the Frozen Desert to mine for ore for twenty years. Nobody really came back from sentences like those.

Even after the main forces were defeated, pockets of resistance still sprang up throughout the city, ambushing patrols and trying to rally the people back towards their cause. It was futile but the honorable way to go out, Emi thought. It had been a week since the rebellion, and the fighting had died down, but it was not over completely, not yet.

The Jewel of Elince was placed back in the National Museum; the Balarand Circle halted publication; a full battalion of soldiers took up residence in the city barracks. King Kline had been spared an execution and returned to exile in Fathie, but everything else had gone completely in the direction of Dannark’s rule.

A new normal that would be here to stay.

Emi’s house had been damaged by the fires that spread across the city, but it was not completely destroyed, so it was already better off than the nearly completely destroyed Castle Balarand. Workers were currently rebuilding the parts of the house that did not survive, which included her bedroom and, of course, Ms. Khami’s entire brand-new third-floor balcony. Poor woman.

Her parents had zipped back to Zahn for yet another emergency mission. They offered to take Emi with them, but she insisted on staying. They hadn’t said anything about Beatrice, not a single mention. That was their way, and Emi realized she preferred it that way.

Fortunately, the southern portion of Balarand was almost completely unharmed. Beatrice’s parents were worried sick when their daughter (and Runa) never came back home, but when they returned he next day they had a reunion filled with tears from all sides.

It was almost like everything had returned to normal, since then.

Everything–including Emi and Beatrice.

Emi had stayed at Beatrice’s apartment for almost a week now, while her own home was under repair. It was about how you’d expect, after everything that happened.

While Beatrice cooked up some omelettes with rice for breakfast, Emi laid in the rock-hard bed in her bedroom. Their bedroom? It was nice to think about it that way, at least.

 She looked out the window of the apartment and at the rising sun making its way towards the sky. The city, aside from the wreckage, was shining The trees bright green, their leaves swaying gently in the wind. Soon it would be day, and soon it would be spring as well. Something so haunting should never have been so pretty.

Beatrice finished up the eggs and entered her bedroom, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “My parents said it would be a good idea to get out of the city for a while,” she said. “Dannark is sending a regional governor with a direct line to the Empress, and… well, you know what that will mean.” Emi knew. Curfews, secret police, stricter laws, crackdowns on national flags and songs, the works.

Emi sat up. “I guess now’s a better time than ever to run away together, huh? I hear Mammoth Pass is lovely this time of year. We could go see the Mammoths again before they migrate north, then we could travel up the mountains and meet some striderskin hunters.”

“Oh stop,” Beatrice gently chided. She rested her hand on Emi’s cheek.

“I’m just kidding, Tris.”

“It’s Beatrice.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Things had gone back to normal. But for Emi and Beatrice there were too many pained memories, too many shed tears, to ever truly revert to the status quo. 

It was too complicated, and so they let things stay the way they were. A new normal.

“You know, Beatrice, I just realized something,” Emi said. “You still have that centaur carving sitting on your desk. That… really means a lot to me, you know. You actually kept it.”

“I couldn’t bear to break it,” Beatrice said. She sat down on the bed, facing away from Emi. “I tried my best, but…  I loved you too much to hurt you that way.” Emi thought she heard a sniffle.

“It’s the same for me,” Emi said. “I kept your notebook safe on my d–” She cut herself off and gasped. “Gods, no. Your notebook.”

“My… Oh, Emi…”

The tears came immediately. “All my stuff, I can live without. I can always buy more clothes and gears and books. But your notebook… Beatrice, your notebook burned up. I’m…”

“Have the centaur carving back,” Beatrice said.

“No, that’s yours now!”

“It wasn’t a gift, it was just borrowing each other’s things. Remember? We said that.”

“We did say that…”

“So please, take it back,” Beatrice said. “I insist.”

Emi sat up and put her hands on Beatrice. She turned her head around and peered at her face, looked deep into those eyes whose irises swirled in a rainstorm. That same rainstorm that pulled her into the best months of her life.

“…I’ll take it,” she said, finally. She knew what it meant symbolically to take back something as important as that carving, but… she didn’t care about symbolism and all that Mammoth crap.

But…

“So, uh, are your parents awake yet, Beatrice?” she asked.

Beatrice turned around and faced her body towards Emi, who was still sitting up next to her. “Not yet. They’re sleeping late this morning.”

“Let’s not wake them just yet. The rice won’t be done for a while,” Emi suggested. 

“Yeah.” Beatrice leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. She pushed her down onto the bed, then shut the door with her foot.

***

Emi, Beatrice, and Emi’s Mom and Dad sat around the kitchen table, silently eating breakfast together. The omelettes were certainly… okay, but nothing special or worth remarking about. That didn’t really matter to Emi, though. She just appreciated that Beatrice had cooked for her, had made something just for her. Every meal was a delight.

Beatrice’s Dad was reading a book in one hand and holding chopsticks in the other as he picked apart his eggs, and chuckled a bit. Emi looked closer at the book’s cover– it showed a single shrugging man with the title, What Do You Talk About When You Talk About Love? It didn’t look very appealing from this information alone, but Earl certainly appeared entertained.

Earl had looked a little sad recently, something Emi had never seen in the man before. Beatrice told her that Ulric Statusian had been a friend of his, and that he was still shaken up about everything. But with the library intact and a good book in his hands, it was good to see him in higher spirits, at least for the morning.

Beatrice stared at Emi, smiling. Uh, hey. What’s up? Emi took a big mouthful of rice. It was so sticky she couldn’t actually open her mouth to say anything.

She didn’t need to. All she needed to do was look into the gentle waves in Beatrice’s eyes and smile back.

“We have something to tell you two,” Beatrice’s Mom said, suddenly. “Your father and I…” She trailed off for a moment, and Emi averted her eyes. “Earl and I are taking a vacation.”

Beatrice jolted her head towards them in shock. She didn’t even have any words coming out of her mouth, just a couple grains of rice.

“Shizuka,” Beatrice’s Dad said. “Why now? I thought we were going to mention this after…”

“I thought they’d like to know.”

“Well… fine.” He set his book down, spine-up. “So, I got an opportunity to take a look at a large private book collection next week down in Kent, right next to the coast,” he said. “It’s not a certain opportunity, but… I’ve been told there’s a teaching position open at the local college if I want one.”

Beatrice gasped. “But you… but the library…”

“Well, we’re just going to check the place out and get out of Balarand for a few days, with everything going on right now. Since you have the exams coming up, Beatrice, we figured you’d, uh… want the house to yourself. So you could, uh, focus. On your studies.”

Beatrice glanced at Emi and then her face turned a vibrant shade of crimson. “Oh, uh, thank you. Thank you very much, Dad. And Mom. And… I really do hope you take the job. You should have been a teacher your whole life. I’ve always thought so.”

“You’ve… really?” Her Dad raised an eyebrow. “You never mentioned anything like that before. How come you never encouraged me, huh?”

“Well…”

Emi felt very much like leaving the table right now but she was only halfway done with her meal, so instead she sighed and let the family squabble go on around her. 

For the short time it lasted, it was nice.

<== Previous ♡ Next ==>

Chapter 55: A Date with Destiny (Destiny is Runa)

“And I–are you listening at all?” Runa asked.

“Yes, yes, go on,” Beatrice said, nose-deep in her current project, which was a blouse she had been sewing for weeks. Or, trying to sew at least.

After a while, she came to accept the fact that there was simply no more studying to be done for the Priesthood Exam, and so she moved onto working full-time at her new hobby. Her Mom had helped her learn the basics of sewing and now she was working at it like she always does–with extreme interest and dedication. Sewing was supposed to be a relaxing, stress-relieving activity, but as usual, Beatrice worked far beyond the point she needed to.

It still wasn’t a very good blouse so far, but it was better to practice than to listen to the incessant chatter coming from the other girl in her apartment.

In a surprise twist, for the first time in years, Runa needed to be babysat this afternoon, so she came to Beatrice’s house to visit. It was more like just hanging out with a friend, as much as one could be friends with someone like Runa. The real reason she was here was that Balarand police officers had received reports of suspicious activities and were currently rummaging through Runa’s laboratory for signs of legal infractions (they were sure to find several).

Though Beatrice didn’t know if it was safer for her here. The protests outside were loud, and growing louder. The entire city was engulfed by tens of thousands of people marching and screaming for King Kline’s safety. It had lasted for days, the chants continuing long into the night.

But here they were, Runa and Beatrice, together like they were kids again. Dad was at work, and Mom was taking a nap, so it was just them, though Runa was currently occupied with her own, er, eccentricities.

“Well… I disposed of the most incriminating evidence,” Runa continued. “But I am fearful if they use any forensic techniques, like bringing in a priest to purify the residence. My soul crystals will be sure to resonate then. Perhaps telling you all this may be a poor decision, given your choice to become the enemy.”

“You were a junior priest too, for a while,” Beatrice said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, until they caught on and threw me out to deprive me access to their sensitive information. The fiends.” She began rambling again.

Runa had been eleven years old and expelled for trying to instigate a rebellion using some group spells she had uncovered. That was her finest hour, hopefully for the rest of her life. That’s Beatrice she thought at the time, at least.

Beatrice’s new pursuit to become the highest-scoring new priest of all time, if she could help it, was going very well, so well that she had literally run out of things to study. For the first time in her life, she had not a single book to read that she thought might help her improve. At this rate, she would pass the Priesthood Exams with the highest marks in the history of the church. It may not have been a particularly notable achievement since one’s score was never revealed, but she wanted to impress the world anyway.

“…if I am caught, so that I will never be exposed. Is that okay with you?”

Darn it. She was hoping she didn’t have to listen. “Um, what was the question again?”

“Oh, never mind with you. You seem to be too fully integrated into the Priesthood Propaganda Project and the treachery of sewing to pay your old friend any mind.” Runa ruminated. “Say, it seems you have abandoned that incredibly beautiful woman from before, as well.”

She only just noticed? It had been literally two months.

“If you know her contact information, I would appreciate having it. I wish very much to court her. She would be a fitting subject for my Grand Experiment, indeed.”

She hadn’t noticed anything after all!

And… Grand Experiment? Was this her codename for romance, or did she really have something sinister in mind here with Emi? Emi–

She hadn’t thought about her in a while. She had successfully blocked the woman out of her mind for, what was it, maybe three days? And now she was back.

Beatrice sobbed.

She didn’t… she didn’t mean to. She tried not thinking about her over these past few weeks; that was the best way to get some real studying done. She didn’t want to admit to herself that the only reason she was studying was to get her out of her mind as much as possible, but it was pretty obvious that was the case. 

“What’s wrong?” Runa asked. “You seem to be mysteriously shedding tears. Are you perchance falling victim to a melancholic disease after being exposed to the famed Emotion Shrooms found at the summit of the Plebias Mountains?”

“No, Runa. Just shut up,” Beatrice snapped.

Runa did exactly that, her childish smirk disappearing. She sat down in a chair at the other end of the dining table and sighed. “When did we grow so far apart?”

Beatrice could ask the same thing, but about Emi.

…No, she knew that answer. She knew the exact, precise moment their relationship had ended. She was staring up at the ceiling with tears welling up in her eyes, after all. That was a very prominent image in her memories.

Beatrice, for so many months, had thrown away all logic in order to pretend they would ever be able to be together in the first place. A rich elite destined for nobility and a poor daughter of a librarian training to be a celibate priest. It was doomed from the start. A fling, just like Mr. Statusian once said. The only thing she could do was keep it out of her mind.

“Eh? Beatrice?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Beatrice said. She looked down at her blouse and the water stains that covered it. “We never grew apart, Runa. I still appreciate you as, um, a friend.”

“It just feels like you keep so much from me.”

“Oh, come on, Runa, please don’t start–”

Suddenly, there was a loud booming sound, almost like a large explosion, coming from not too far away. It shook the plates on the kitchen table for a few seconds.

“Was that your house?” Beatrice asked instinctually.

“Quite unlikely,” she said. “The blast radius from my home simply could not be big enough to carry a shockwave this far away.”

Beatrice ignored the lack of denial that Runa’s house had been rigged with explosive devices, because that sound was very worrying to her. She went over the window and looked– black smoke rising from buildings on the other side of Knoll Park.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

And she felt the sudden urge to check it out. Something about the timing of the explosion set a sense of panic within her. Even if it wasn’t related to Runa, it… Hm.

Mom, awoken by the shaking, came out of her bedroom, her hair all frizzed up from her sleep. “Beatrice, what was that?” she asked groggily.

“Mom, Runa and I need to leave and check something out,” she said. “May we leave?”

“Yes,” she said. Then she saw the smoky scenery out the window. She looked at Beatrice, and for a second, her expression completely changed, becoming stern, emotional, and absolutely unallowing to let her child go into whatever it was. But Beatrice stood firm. She didn’t need to justify anything. Whatever was going on, she was going to help. She was a junior priest. And Mom knew that, because her face morphed once again, back into her usual calm. “Be safe,” she added.

“We will.”

“Wait, I’m going too?” Runa asked. “I never said I’d–”

Beatrice yanked her by the wrist. “Let’s hurry.”

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Chapter 53: About a Dozen of Them

St. Helens Academy was still in its winter break, so normal students were off from school for the next two months until the spring semester. The school, however, remained open for those preparing for the Priesthood Exams.

These days, even counting the Dannark guards, the school never exceeded thirty people. Today, there were only about twelve. Beatrice was the only one who had shown up every single day; the others were older, and most of them held down jobs or supported families already.

Beatrice, in her studying, was essentially alone.

Because she had wholesale banned herself from going to the library in the unlikely chance that she would run into people that she would prefer she not meet, the only good places to read in the winter were here or home. Seeing as Mom was starting to make good friends with some of the next-door neighbors and they were coming over nearly every day to chat and gossip, this was practically the only option to get any peace and quiet in the entire city. 

So today, as usual. she sat, hunkered down, and… reread for the umpteenth the same materials Mr. Statusian had given her months ago.

It was all useless.

Beatrice already knew everything she possibly could to prepare for the exam. The practical application portion was the only part that she was even a little bit uncertain on and even then, the other prospective priests practiced diligently with her whenever they showed up.

In fact, while Beatrice poured over papers she knew by heart already, the other six students here today were out in the courtyard practicing cycling routines. She took a brief pause in her non-studying to watch them through the window.

The students practiced hard, even in the cold wind with the last vestiges of snow patching the dirt, even with rituals that were equally hard. These were techniques–difficult ones–to to draw energy out of one’s soul and into certain areas of the body to heal or strengthen oneself. One could, for example, draw their energy towards their fingertips so that they could deliver an electric shock to an opponent, or summon the fringes of their souls towards their mind to help calm themselves in a stressful situation. It was not expected for any of them to actually accomplish anything with them, but using the correct technique was vital for the test.

It was admirable to see them trying so hard, as pointless as it may have been.

The people out there were nice, but Beatrice tried to keep to herself most of the time. They were just so… different. Beatrice was a young girl, fresh out of junior priest school and going directly into the exams with the full support of her parents. Everyone else who came to practice here was older. They were people who had gone through an unsuccessful life and needed a fresh start; the faithless who had gotten a new conviction in their religion; divorced men, widowed women–the kinds of people you’d expect to want to join the priesthood.

Unlike them, Beatrice had made this her life’s main trajectory since childhood.

In her ambitions, just as in everything else, she was alone.

Mr. Statusian stood out with the others, drilling them while they practiced the rituals. Beatrice had tried to avoid him since she returned from Mammoth Pass. She didn’t want him rubbing her nose in everything she did. But for how blatantly she ignored his advice, she probably deserved it.

He noticed her looking at the students and met her eyes before she could glance away. He left the group and came into the study hall. At the same time, Beatrice lowered her head and buried herself in her notes.

“Beatrice?” Mr. Statusian asked.

She couldn’t think of anything to say. She couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t get her a scolding. So her reply was a mere, “Hello.” She did not raise her eyes from her papers.

“Nice to see you studying hard as ever. That’s the girl I know.” When his remark was not met with a response, he dithered, and then added, “Well, I know you’ll do great. For the sake of Balarand, you–” 

Mr. Statusian cut himself off, and then took a few steps away. Beatrice looked up to see what the matter was, and saw two men in dull brown, tattered cloaks standing at the entrance to the classroom.

His expression darkened. “What in Phyra’s name are you two–” He looked at Beatrice and cut himself off. “I’ve got to go. Keep studying, Beatrice. I’m praying for you.”

He left, and she suddenly felt overcome with a strong urge to give up and never look at a book again. Her body shook and her nose sniffled. 

But now was not the time for tears. She continued to copy down notes and work as diligently as ever, even if it was pointless to continue doing so. 

It was her fault, after all, that she had declined to tell her parents what had happened in Mammoth Pass. It was her fault, after all, that she had avoided contact with Mr. Statusian any time he tried to check up on her. It was her fault, after all, that she was studying here, alone, in an empty classroom on a cold winter afternoon.

After the day was over, she walked home among gray skies, head facing the cobblestone path ahead of her, the buildings around her a blurred path for her to navigate around.

An then as she entered her apartment, her Dad greeted with a cheery, “Hi, honey,” but she didn’t reply.

Her parents glanced at her worryingly, almost accusingly.

“Honey? Hey, Beatrice.” Dad got up from the kitchen table and put a hand on her shoulder. “You alright buddy?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t want their looks. She didn’t want their emotions. She just wanted this to be over with, and she would much prefer it if they stopped being so rude.

“Okay, then. By the way, your friend Bodhi came by earlier and wanted to know–”

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” she said.

She wasn’t lying. The moment she closed her door, she laid down and slept.

It was better to dream when you were unconscious, she thought.

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Chapter 41: Gonda Shopping

The tallest building in Balarand, and perhaps all of Tsubasa is Gonda Tower. It towers so far above its peers that even Castle Balarand is dwarfed. It’s said that on special nights, the very brightest of them, if you stand on the top of the tower you can reach up and touch the tips of the moons as they fly by. It isn’t true, but the sky never looks better than when you’re on top of the world. 

I know the owner, so next time we go to Elince, I’ll take you up there to see for yourself. How does that sound? You want me to continue the story instead of giving you travel tips? Oh well.

Today, Beatrice and her Mom had made a visit to Gonda Tower’s vast shopping center, and, as always, every single floor was busy. If Emi were here, she would most certainly be having a fit right now, Beatrice thought. Despite the anti-Dannark demonstrations going on in the streets outside, the shops were just as packed as any other day.

Beatrice preferred the hustle and bustle of the marketplace near the library, the one where she and Emi first met all that time ago. The excitement of finding something new, of meeting people from all over the world and haggling with them over prices, outclassed anything she could find in these huge, clean stores. Well, she never actually haggled before because she never had enough money to buy anything worth doing it over, but she liked the theory of it. The theory of arguing.

Even so, Gonda Tower was nice. Each floor had a different department selling all sorts of things. One floor was filled with art supplies for painting and sculpting, another with stuffed animals and children’s toys, another with Ancient Elincian-style memorabilia that could be used to decorate one’s home. The floor that Beatrice and her Mom were on was a massive clothing store, covered from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with outfits of infinite variety. 

To say that it was overwhelming was a grand understatement. Actually, Beatrice wasn’t sure if she had ever been in a clothing store before, on account of Mom making all of her outfits herself. That was why today’s adventure was a little bit odd, she thought to herself. Mom rarely left the area around the apartment, that Beatrice knew of anyway, and their first mother-daughter outing in a year was suddenly a shopping trip for expensive clothes.

Mom was also much, much more interested than Beatrice right now. Don’t get her wrong, she liked cute dresses as much as the next girl. But for the most part, wearing a simple shirt-and-skirt combo was enough. Getting into Emi levels of dressiness was just too much.

Mom took a long green dress, so bright it hurt Beatrice’s eyes just looking at it, and held it up against Beatrice’s chest. She examined it closely, and nodded. “It looks good on you.”

“Mom.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I like it. It’s just… I’m not sure.”

“Why don’t you try it on and see?”

“Alright.” Beatrice took the dress and went into a changing room to see how it looked on her. She took her glasses off and undressed. As she looked in the mirror at her own freckled cheeks, at her own blue eyes, and her own curly hair. She used to hate this face–it was so plain, so boyish, making her look shy, making her look unkempt when she was neither of these things. But this was the same face that Emi loved. There had to be a reason behind that, right?

She put the dress on and rotated herself around to get a good look at it.

How did it all come to this?

Trying on an expensive dress at Gonda Tower. Going on a trip to Mammoth Pass. Being in love with a diplomat’s daughter, the most beautiful girl in the entire world. A few months ago, she was on-track to join the priesthood just like she had always dreamed about. Then she saw that face at the marketplace, and everything changed so dramatically.

She hadn’t fully wrapped her head around the extent of it, yet. It was just that crazy.

The dress fit well, though a little bit at the waist. But she didn’t like how loud the color was, how much it would make her stick out. Though, why she didn’t want to stick out was beyond her. Was it that she always felt insecure about her appearance, and didn’t want to showcase that to everyone else? Was Emi’s worrisome self rubbing off on her?

Actually, she decided that she did like the dress. She exited the changing room and showed it to her Mom. Her reaction was an immediate clapping.

“So beautiful,” Mom said. “My daughter is so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Beatrice said. She would have blushed, were it not her Mom who complimented her.

“You’re going to be the star of every event in Mammoth Pass,” she said. 

“Well, no, I think Emi is still going to be the star.”

“Not after we’re done here. We’re going to get you clothes to make you shine.”

“Mom, are you sure we need to buy all these fancy clothes like this?” Beatrice asked. “I’m fine just wearing whatever you make.”

 Her Mom smiled, and said, “What I make isn’t good enough. A girl like you deserves more.”

“I don’t–” Beatrice stopped herself before she could get in an argument about something as silly as self-deprecation. 

And for the first time in a while, Beatrice saw that lip-scrunching sadness on her Mom’s face, the kind of indignant resignation that beset her in her worst moods.

But why?

Beatrice hadn’t done anything wrong that she knew of. She had never disobeyed her parents. Never gotten in a fight. Never came home late at night with a few too many Balarand brews in her belly. And yet here, and now, her Mom looked like she was about to cry.

And now Beatrice felt terrible.

Could it be that Beatrice was seemingly abandoning her lifelong quest to join the Priesthood, or that she was dating a girl from a family so important her parents were away from home for months at a time? Could it be that she thought she was abandoning the family for whatever pursuits, as if she hated her Mom and Dad because she wanted to see the continent with her own eyes? She wasn’t sure.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” Beatrice asked, instead of skirting the issue and ending up with worse hurt feelings.

“Nothing’s the matter,” she said, eyes filling with tears. “My baby girl’s growing up. And I am so proud of her. It’s just a little…” There went the crying.

Oh. It was THAT kind of sadness.

Beatrice quickly moved to hug her around the neck, but dropped the green dress on the floor. Whoops. “I’m sorry for growing up,” she said.

Mom stopped crying and laughed. “I wish all children told their parents that.”

As Beatrice picked up the dress again, a question occurred to her. “Mom, what do you think about me and Emi?”

“What do I think?”

“About me and Emi… and, the priesthood. I’m going to take the test, but…”

Mom turned away from Beatrice to browse through the other dresses on sale. After a moment to look at a frilly cream-colored dress, she said, “You can’t do both, can you?”

“No.”

“Pick the girl.”

The way she said it was so instant, so decisive, that it took Beatrice off-guard. 

In fact, she didn’t respond for the duration of their time shopping. She got six new dresses, all paid for with the money her family had been saving up for a vacation to the coast this summer. Today was supposed to be a joyful day, and yet Beatrice was stuck on the suddenness of her mother’s words.

And then she thought about it.

She really was going to pick the girl.

As perplexing as it was, she was going to pick the girl.

<== Previous ♡ Next ==>

Chapter 40: Guess Who’s Coming to Supper?

“This whole time it was Emi. Wow,” Beatrice’s Dad said, chuckling as he cut into his potato. “Can you believe I’ve known your girlfriend longer than you?”

“I’m surprised you never introduced me to your daughter, Earl– er, Mr. Ragnell,” said Emi. “But I guess she was always so busy reading all the time.”

“I doubt I would have ever noticed you, I was so into my books,” Beatrice said. 

“You and I both know that’s false.” Emi and Beatrice giggled together.

The four of them sat at the dining table; Emi tried to be as polite as possible, keeping a napkin in her seat and arranging all her utensils properly. The Ragnell Family home was small–genuinely not much bigger than Emi’s bedroom– but by no means was it too cramped for the four of them. Beatrice’s Dad flipped through the latest issue of the Balarand Circle as he ate, but otherwise, their attentions were all completely focused on Emi. In any other situation, this would have given her a panic attack. But now, because she had already stressed out enough about this event, she felt weirdly calm.

Oh Gods, was Emi relieved that Beatrice took this surprise well.

She had been unnerved to the point of shaking at the idea of meeting Beatrice’s parents, even if she had known Earl for most of her life. This kind of supper meeting was ridiculously important in a romantic relationship, and if she messed up it could doom things forever. It didn’t matter if she was overthinking things to the highest degree; this was a mission vital to the success of her continued existence as a human being.

So she had finally worked up the courage and told Earl herself. He helped him arrange the meeting and kept it all a surprise from her own girlfriend–at her dad’s suggestion–just so they could end up like this, happy together at the dining table.

Beatrice’s Mom was basically swooning at Emi. “When you said you had a girlfriend, I never expected her to be so….”

“So what?”

“So beautiful! I mean, look at her hair… It’s so nice and straight and…” Her Mom started playing with Emi’s hair. This was far from the first time someone had done this. For Beatrice’s sake, she let it happen.

“And your food is amazing, too, Mrs. Ragnell,” she told her, trying to keep from being too flustered.

“Oh, I don’t know if ‘amazing’ is the right word for it…”

“Mom, take the compliment.”

Beatrice’s parents were almost like older versions of her herself. It was so funny to look at them and then look at her, because she could perfectly picture how she would age. Her hips would widen, her curls would whiten, but those blue eyes of hers would stay just as vibrant and swirling  She wanted to make the most of her time with Beatrice, but she knew she could be with her for a lifetime. Easily.

So… 

Was now the right time?

Of course, there was an ulterior motive to this family supper, which is much of the reason why she had wanted to keep it a secret from Beatrice. There was one more thing she needed to ask.

She’d been meaning to do so for a long while, but she had never found the right time. Now, with Beatrice and her parents together like this, it was the perfect opportunity for it.

If she could muster the energy to do it, that was.

Her palms started to sweat, and her appetite disappeared into the pit of her stomach. Her heart beat in doubletime. “I do have one request,” Emi said to Beatrice’s parents. She pretended that her nerves hadn’t already faded into uselessness, that she had the courage to say it.

“Go ahead,” her Dad said.

Here it went.

“My parents are arranging to meet with me at Mammoth Pass for that city’s own winter festivals in a few weeks, and I am allowed to bring a guest with me. As a way to introduce my parents to Beatrice, would you give your permission to let her travel with me?” She flashed a smile for good measure. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?

Beatrice was stunned, but her parents lit up in excitement.

“Going to see the Mammoths? That sounds like so much fun,” her Mom said. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” She was still playing with Emi’s hair, by the way.

“And in all my studies on ancient cultures, I’ve never been able to visit the cultural museum up in Mammoth Pass.” her Dad said. “But.. it’s quite a lot of time. It’s nearly a week’s journey each way, right? Even if you stay for only a few days, that’s still nearly three weeks’ time…”

“It just isn’t possible, is it?” Her Mom said, a complete reversal of her previous comment. “I mean… just think of the timing, with exams and all…”

Beatrice came back to reality and banged her fork onto the table. “Emi. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” She looked stern, but Emi couldn’t tell if she was angry.

“I… I wanted it to be a surprise…”

“I need to discuss this with my parents,” she said. “Could you go wait someplace else?”

Emi looked around the apartment.

“Uh, go in my bedroom, I guess.”

“Ah… alright.”

***

Emi laid atop Beatrice’s bed, wondering why Beatrice had such a weird reaction to her proposal. It was supposed to be a nice surprise, and yet she may have gone and upset her girlfriend.

She closed the door and tried not to listen closely to the muffled voices on the other side of the wall, but it was hard not to at least listen to their tones of voice. There was no yelling, just the natural flow of a reasoned conversation, but it had been going on for long time already.

“..Never done anything you haven’t…” That came from Beatrice.

“…Studies and it isn’t a good…” From her Dad?

“…Too much, you always said. Why now? I’m ready, really. Really!” Beatrice’s voice was getting louder, which was probably not a good thing.

Oh, why did Emi do this? This surprise supper, this surprise request, anything involving keeping secrets. If this escalated into something between the Ragnells, she would never be able to forgive herself for hurting such a wonderful family… 

Keeping secrets. That was practically all Emi ever did. She still hadn’t told Beatrice about her engagement. Hardly even hinted at it. And she was trying to get Beatrice to go with her on vacation. What a load of Mammoth crap she was.

Beatrice’s room was nice, at least. Extremely small, but that probably meant a lot less dusting for her housekeepers– er, for her to do. So tidy, too. Her desk spanned one entire wall except for the door while the bed spanned the other, and there was very little space between them. 

How did Beatrice sleep on this thing, anyway? Emi’s bed was admittedly one of the softest ever, but this thing was like a stone slab. If this was how commoners were forced to sleep, she was okay with being a rich snob.

There on the corner of Beatrice’s desk, sitting on top of a stack of books, was the wooden centaur carving Emi had given her a while back. This was the first time she ever went into the girl’s room, and already she saw a symbol for their relationship displayed proudly. That made her heart melt away for a moment, until she realized she still needed to take something from Beatrice back to her own room. Hmm…

Eventually, the conversation ended, and Beatrice quietly entered the bedroom.  Emi decided to pretend she was asleep to see what she would do. And what she did is pulled out her desk chair, flicked a candle on, and write in her notebook.

What? Was she studying at this hour? The madwoman!

Just as she was getting tired of doing this sleeping charade, Beatrice finished writing  and tiptoed to the far side of the bed. She squeezed in next to Emi, sandwiching herself between her and the wall. The bed was far too small for two people to comfortably lay apart, so they were now in a very close cuddling position. She put her arm around Emi’s waist and breathed deeply, in and out. Her breathing soon slowed.

Oh no. Now Beatrice falling asleep, leaving Emi trapped here on this sheet of bedrock one might charitably call a bed. Laying uncomfortably with the most beautiful girl in the world cuddling her… What a dilemma!

“Tris, are you awake?” she asked, finally, doing her best to act like she was just waking up from a nap.

“Yeah.” she said. “My parents said yes, by the way.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Beatrice said. “But my parents are very protective of me. They don’t like it when I spring big surprises on them.”

“They took it well when I asked them about having a supper together,” Emi said.

“ I told them about you a month ago,” Beatrice said.

“Oh.”

“And… Can you not keep any secrets from me like that anymore? Tonight was really fun, but I was just really taken by surprise and it worried me a lot. Maybe I’m too much like my parents after all…”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Emi said. “Your parents are lovely. And so are you, Tris.”

“No more surprises, Emi?”

“I, uh, yeah. Yes.”

Beatrice hugged her tighter. Emi couldn’t see her face, but she hoped that Beatrice was as happy as she sounded. If those deep blue eyes of hers turned to pain, that would break her heart. “But you turned them around on it?” she asked.

“Maybe. My Dad seems fine with it now, and I guess my Mom is going along with it too. They weren’t going to allow it because all my exams are only a few months away, but I had a talk with them and convinced them that it might be the last big trip I get to take for a long time.”

“Because of… your priest stuff?”

“Yeah.” Emi’s heart sank just thinking about it. “But don’t worry about the priest stuff,” she said. “We’ll find a way to deal with it. If worst… If we… uh, well, I love you too much to just leave you be, Emi.”

“Thanks.” Her heart raised again.

“Also, my parents said I have to do a lot of studying while we’re travelling. Is that okay?” Beatrice asked.

“Have you been on the Northern Highway before?”

“No, I’ve never left Balarand.”

“You probably won’t want to study too much,” she said. “Trust me, it’s gorgeous. They don’t call it the Great White North for nothing.”

“I’ll do my best.” Beatrice squeezed Emi even tighter. She was so warm.

“No more surprises, Emi?”

But even still, Emi shivered.

When was she going to tell her about the wedding? Obviously not now, because that would completely ruin the mood. Maybe right after the trip? Or, if Emi introduced her to her parents at Mammoth Pass, that would be the perfect opportunity to shoot it all down at once, because they’d see what an amazing girl Beatrice was.

Or risk everything falling apart in front of her eyes. That would be… less optimal. But she was going to hope for the best, hope that “no more surprises” held true.

For now, though…

“Hey, Tris, can you turn around?” Emi asked.

“And face the wall? Why?”

“Just because.”

“Okay.” Beatrice let go of Emi and turned on her other side. Then Emi wrapped her arms around Beatrice in return. 

“It’s my turn to be there for you, Tris,” Emi said. “You’re the strong one, the level-headed one so much that I figured… maybe you deserve a rest.”

“Oh, Emi…”

“I love you so much, Tris, and I’m so excited about this trip.”

“Three weeks to spend together. It’s a long time.”

“We deserve it,” Emi said. 

“I feel like we’ve been in a relationship so long, but it’s only been… What, a few months?”

“A few months on the calendar, but a few lifetimes in our hearts.”

“Emi, that was the lamest thing you’ve ever said.” Beatrice adjusted herself and moved Emi’s right hand downwards, resting on her belly button. “Hold me tighter, please.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this okay?”

“You could afford to be a bit more courageous…”

Courageous. Emi hugged her girlfriend with a stronger embrace and thought about that word. Courageous…. Well…

“Hey Tris, do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

Emi kissed her on the back of the neck.

“Emi…”

“I love you.”

Then–

Beatrice yelped and then covered her mouth with her hands. “Emi!” she whispered loudly. “What the heck are you doing? My parents are in the other room…”

“Oh! I, uh–”

Emi let go of Beatrice and sat up from the bed. Her hands began to shake. What did she think she was going to accomplish with all of that? What a moron. What a–

Beatrice, still laying on her side cracked up laughing. “Emi, I love you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Tears welled up in Emi’s eyes.

“You’re great. Maybe an idiot, but you’re great.”

“I’m so–Hey, I’m not an idiot!”

Beatrice sat up and nuzzled her forehead against Emi’s. “You’re smarter than I’ll ever be,” she said. “Not about everything, though.” She kissed her on the cheek and stood up from the bed. She went over to her desk and grabbed a notebook. “By the way, I wanted you to have this.”

“This?”

“In exchange for the centaur carving. This is every note I took for every subject in my AA-grade classes at the junior priest academy. All of them for you.”

“For me? How come?”

“Just a keepsake, something to remember me by. And maybe I have some romantic notes scribbled in the margins here and there…”

“I’ll read every page.”

Beatrice giggled. “I know you will.” She handed her the notebook. “Now go home before Ms. Khami gets worried. We have a trip to prepare for.”

“Yes ma’am.” Emi saluted with the notebook. 

If everything went well, this would be perfect. If it didn’t, everything could come crashing down. But Emi was willing to take those odds.

<== Previous ♡ Next ==>

Chapter 31: Tear

Beatrice watched her Mom intently. So intently that it might have scared anyone that wasn’t family. So intent that, she had to admit, she wasn’t actually learning anything.

“This looks so hard,” she mumbled to herself.

But, apparently, she mumbled just loud enough, because her mother soon said, “Sewing is not like a book. You don’t master it by studying.”

“I wasn’t, uh, trying to study it,” Beatrice lied. “I was just watching my beautiful mother.”

“This is a very simple thing, sewing up a tear,” Mom said. “Nothing special.”

“You know, just because you’re doing something simple doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful!” Ugh, Beatrice hated when she deflected practically every compliment given to her. Why couldn’t she just say thank you?

“And… there it is. Your robes are good as new, as long as nobody looks too closely.” She held up the orange-and-white ceremonial garbs and showed off her sewing job.

See, Beatrice was almost always careful, but after practice today she was walking home when she saw a greyback bear scamper by and, uh, kind of tripped and fell on the sidewalk. She probably shouldn’t have been scared by a silly little animal (that was Emi’s job), and she also probably shouldn’t have been wearing her school’s official robes while walking home…

Well, the tear in her outfit had now been repaired, and she was hopefully going to get safe without anyone noticing. Otherwise, if they found out, St. Helens Academy would probably bill her family fifty gold coins just for the repairs, and that would be embarrassingly annoying.

 “It looks amazing, Mom,” Beatrice said. “And I’m not just saying that. I really mean it.”

“I’ve been a seamstress for all my life. It really isn’t anything to thank me for.”

“But it is! I have you here to patch every hole and darn every tear. Almost every dress I own was made by you, including my own school uniform! Not a lot of people have parents so gifted, and I’ll never stop being proud of it.”

“Well…”

“And… I feel really bad for not trying to follow in your footsteps. Grandma and Great-Grandma were both seamstresses like you, but I don’t know the first thing about any of it. Most people don’t. It’s super special to know how to sew, and…” Beatrice cut herself off because she realized she had kind of changed the topic on herself. “What I mean is, do you think you could teach me to sew sometime?”

Her Mom sighed. “I suppose. If you’re going off to become a priest, you’ll need to know how to do this all on your own. I won’t be there to help you.”

“Oh, that’s right, I didn’t even think about… that.”

She didn’t think about that because, honestly, she hadn’t thought about the whole priesthood deal in a good week. Especially not the fact that she wouldn’t see her parents anymore except on rare occasions. And Mom seemed to recognize the fact that she hadn’t thought about it, which made Beatrice feel terrible. She felt like a selfish brat (and once again, that was Emi’s job).

“Please teach me how to sew, Mom!” she pleaded with renewed fervor. 

“Alright, I will.” Mom began playing through Beatrice’s hair and messing through her curls. “Only if you promise me never to cut your hair short again.”

“Eh?”

“It’s so lovely when it gets long, and then you always cut it short right after,” she said. “I love it like this.”

“I didn’t realize my hair was getting so long, wow.” Beatrice began tossling through her own hair and it hit her that, yes, her hair was quite a bit longer than it was when she started wearing it like this. “I won’t promise you anything, but I’ll make sure only to get haircuts you like.”

“That would make me happy.”

“So…”

“Yes, Beatrice?”

“When do we start?”

Mom looked extremely confused. “…Did you want to start right now?”

“Um, kind of,” Beatrice answered. “Since everything’s already out, maybe we could–”

“Honey, I’m home!”

Dad came crashing through the door with an absolutely unexpected level of energy. He carried a sack of groceries around his arm and more in the bag on his back, and yet ran into the apartment as if he were a child hyped up on sugary salmon binds.

“What’s got him so riled up?” Mom asked.

“I have no clue.”

Both women started to get up from their chairs, but Dad beckoned them down. He began giving Beatrice a shoulder massage and said, “Did you know who I ran into today? Tia Knoll. Heir to the entire Knoll Family estate. Just walking into the library like it was nothing.”

“And…?”

“Well, it looks like he’s a friend of that Emi L’Hime girl, which means he could become a regular. And if he’s a regular… The library could receive millions of coins in donations!”

Emi… Oh, Emi was at the library all by herself, and presumably had fun conversations with Dad and with the single richest person in Balarand. That must have been a fun adventure, Beatrice thought. She was jealous she had to miss out…

“How was Emi?” Beatrice asked.

“Oh, her normal self. Ranting about a book she didn’t like.”

“That’s my Emi.”

“What?”

“I mean, that’s my friend Emi, all right,” Beatrice said. “Anyway, you really think the Knoll Family would fund the library if the heir started to visit more often?”

“Well… I can dream, at least,” he said. His energy died down as the realism set in. He let go of Beatrice’s shoulders and moved to Mom’s. “What I don’t have to dream about is…. supper!”

“What’s for supper?” asked Mom.

“I’m ready for anything that isn’t vegetable soup again,” said Beatrice.

“It’s a surprise,” Dad told them. 

It was vegetable soup.

<== Previous ♡ Next ==>

Chapter 21: Dead Tired

Beatrice lowered her hands and heaved a sigh of exhaustion. 

“That was…” Mr. Statusian said to the group of students arranged in a circular formation around a stand-in for the statue of hero Jon Knoll. “That was… Let’s practice it a bit better next time, alright?”

There were murmurs of resigned acceptance. 

“Let’s finish,” he said. “Alright, be out of here in ten minutes, and I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”

Beatrice went into the dressing room and changed out of the loose clothing she had been wearing for practice. Sweat dripped from more places than she thought possible. Oh, Gods… She was very much not physically prepared for coordinating a mass magical ritual, and she could feel exactly the spots that’d be sore tomorrow morning.

With how these practices were going, she had no idea how they were going to be ready in time for the Winter Ceremonies, even if they were still a couple months away. 

Okay, she was dried up and back in her school uniform, and now it was time to make her way home. She decided against stopping by the library–she’d given up going there every afternoon just to wait on Emi–but she did still need to go by the marketplace and picking up produce for her Mom.

She just wished she was less tired from practice. Who knew that practicing for a sacred ritual where most of the work was moving in a circle and chanting would be so physically taxing? It seemed so effortless to an outside viewer.  And now she realized that that was because of how hard the performers practiced it beforehand. If only willpower alone could create magic spells, this would have been so much easier… 

It was getting darker a lot faster these days; she remembered when the sun would still be shining high in the sky by the time she left St. Helens Academy; now, it was already at the edge of sunset, and several of the moons were visible in the sky.

Despite the growing darkness, and the growing aches in her body, Beatrice pressed on. At the marketplace she picked up a wheel of cheese, a bottle of wine, and some cloves of garlic. It was all costly, but hopefully together all of it would get the Ragnell family about a week’s worth of meals.

And then another few minutes of excruciating walking awaited her… before she finally arrived at her apartment and stumbled inside.

Look what the Mammoth dragged in… Wait, that didn’t even work as a joke. Beatrice was so exhausted from Winter Ceremonies practice that she couldn’t even muster her master wit.

Well, now she was home, and she had a bag full of produce to add to tonight’s onion soup. It was her Mom’s own recipe this time, so it wouldn’t be as much of a mediocre disappointment as the last time Beatrice tried cooking.

Speaking of Mom, she was right there sitting in her usual chair next to the supper table, sewing her current project together. She wouldn’t say what it was, but Beatrice had a feeling it had something to do with that ancient Balarand fashion stuff that Dad had been researching a while back.

“Hey, Mom, I got the vegetables you asked for,” Beatrice said.

Mom looked up from the outfit and smiled. It was quick, almost trained, but it looked genuine enough. “Thank you, Beatrice,” she said.

Mom, a princess-like figure who took everything about Beatrice and made it more extravagantly beautiful. A young Mom Ragnell would have been the catch of a century, and somehow, Beatrice’s own Dad snagged her like a salmon in a putcher basket. Maybe, with age, just as her skin and hair had lightened, her figure had lost some of that radiance, but it wasn’t enough to convince anyone that she wasn’t of regal descent in some distant family tree branch.

After just a moment, Mom moved back to her sewing, again focusing intently on her project. Whatever it was, it looked nice, some kind of gray top with navy… something, accenting it. Was it a… cape? Mom always made these kinds of nice outfits, made pretty much everything Beatrice had ever worn. It was a kindness that she would never be able to repay her for.

She wanted to reply, to say something, start a conversation with her Mom. But it was kind of tough. She stood there, put a finger to her bottom lip, and came up empty. Instead, she simply watched for a while longer. Studied the way she weaved her thread, the way her eyes followed along in a drifting motion, before jumping back to the other side as she started again.

Like performing a religious ritual, like taking all the information out of a book and laying it onto the page, her Mom created an entire piece of clothing with nothing but string and cloth, pins and needles, patience and practice. She had done this for so long that she hardly even had to take notice. It was as impressive as any incantation, any group spell. It was a whole different kind of magic.

For Mom, sewing was more than a hobby, then, perhaps. It was a whole life, and not one that Beatrice well understood… until now.

“I love you, Mom,” Beatrice said.

“I love you too,” she replied without hesitation.

Beatrice had never thought about how much it meant to her that her Mom made all these outfits for her, for the whole family. How in the world had she never realized her Mom was so… cool?

Once Mom had finished up the project for now, she went to the kitchen, and Beatrice followed her over to help her prepare supper. By the time Dad got home, there was boiling hot soup for the three of them, and there was nothing more Beatrice could ask for than that. 

Beatrice looked at her Mom, skilled at everything she did, willing to set aside whatever youthful ambitions she may have had to raise a family, and wondered why she ever felt like the two of them were far apart. Aside from looks, and maybe interests, they weren’t apart at all. They were two beans in a barrel. 

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Chapter 9: Distracting

Beatrice was certain her hands were still shaking. Shaking not because of the cool weather at night, or because of how darn heavy all the books were, but because of that girl.

Her name was Emi.

Wow; just wow. In all her life, Beatrice had never met someone so… distracting. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t manage to take her mind away from the gorgeous human being who had sat right next to her. As interesting as her books were supposed to be, she barely read a chapter her entire time at the library.

Emi herself seemed incredibly distracted about something too. From the way she hastily left the library, there must have been something important weighing on her mind. She seemed like such a serious person.

She and her Dad entered the apartment and she set down her satchel full of academic religious texts. “I want to meet her again,” she mumbled to herself.

“What was that?” Beatrice’s Mom asked, in the kitchen area baking a shepherd’s pie. 

“I said, uh, I want to eat here again,” she corrected. She was standing in the living room, right next to the dining table. “I mean– I like eating with you two. I love you so much.” She went over to give Mom a big hug, but her mom, holding a large meat pie in her hands, did not reciprocate.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked.

Dad gave out a hearty laugh. “She’s been acting like this all evening. We were walking back home, and I swear her face was blushing the whole way. I guess that wasn’t just her schoolbooks she was reading at the library.”

“Dad!”

It was true her face had been blushing for a while after she left, though not in the gross way he was saying. She got almost no studying done whatsoever because of Emi. 

Not to blame her, exactly, but… It’s hard to study when you’re right next to someone as pretty as Emi.

That handshake, though… 

Beatrice couldn’t help but giggle again. How many girls introduced themselves with handshakes? It was one of the silliest things she’d encountered in a while. But even so, it set her heart aflutter, because it was just such a cute move. Emi seemed so prim and proper at first glance, but then just as you’d expect her to do some sort of “How do you do?” little curtsey she went and gave a handshake.

There was just something about her, that Emi.

Besides her marble-cut beauty, the painting-like proportions of perfect womanhood she represented, Emi had some kind of… aura about her. It was difficult to Beatrice to describe, especially without blushing in front of her parents. But she felt drawn to her, like if the two were connected by forces supernatural. Obviously that couldn’t actually be the case, but this feeling, this aura, acted so counter to that pale, stoic rich kid image she tried to convey. Instead, she projected this sort of– huggability? 

Hm.

Huggability sounded wrong, but it was the only word she could think of. Emi had every bit the essence of someone who Beatrice could warp her arms around and squeeze so she could make herself feel better. Feel better about how plain and boring she herself looked, maybe help herself stand out better by being literally connected to someone who was quite possibly a Goddess in human form who had descended into Tsubasa to see how her subjects lived their daily lives. She could hug a Goddess.

 This sounded really weird and Beatrice didn’t want to think about it anymore. Luckily, the shepherd’s pie was ready.

The three of them sat down at the supper table together. Beatrice said a quick prayer to the Goddess Phyra and then they began each eating from their plates.

“Beatrice,” Mom said. “You will tell us if anything important happens in your life, won’t you?”

Ah, Beatrice blushed again. That was quick.

Did they suspect something? Well, obviously yes.

This would be the moment when many children of doting parents would rebel and make some growling rejection of their parents’ caring request, but Beatrice, her mouth full with mashed potatoes and fish, simply nodded.

“Good, because we’re always here when you need us,” Dad said. “When I was your age, I had it pretty rough. If I had had someone to talk to back then…”

“Then you wouldn’t have met me,” Mom said.

“Well, I guess that’s right. Oh, you.”

They nuzzled noses together. Beatrice tried really hard to ignore it. She loved them, but sometimes she couldn’t stand them.

Lovey-dovey couples were obnoxious, and Beatrice swore to the Gods she would never end up like that. She fantasized even at this moment about hugging Emi and smelling her sweet perfumed scent again, but she would never do that in front of others. Only in the privacy of… She wasn’t going to think about this anymore.

Beatrice swallowed a chunk of meat pie in one big gulp and then added, “Though… I do have a pretty important question.” 

Her parents paused. “Yes, honey?” Dad asked, leaned forward as if she were about to announce a pregnancy. 

“Is it normal for girls to introduce themselves with a handshake?”


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Chapter 5: The Junior Priest Academy

“Beatrice, are you awake yet?” a voice called out from the other room.

“Uhh….. yeah….”

Beatrice shook her head back and forth to wake herself up. After her vision cleared up enough that she could make them out, she put her glasses on and tumbled out of bed.

She had a very peculiar dream last night. Something about… that girl from the marketplace. The two of them danced and laughed in a field of flowers, when a sparkling crimson gem fastened to a golden stand fell from the sky. The gem plopped down in front of them and shook the ground. It was the Jewel of Elince, the most prized possession in the kingdom. The two of them stopped for a moment to gaze at it, until it sprouted arms, legs, and a hat. And then it started dancing, too. That was when she finally woke up.

It had been almost a week since she saw that girl. Why was her mind still bringing her into these silly dreams?

After getting dressed in her uniform, a simple white-and-green buttoned shirt with a long skirt, Beatrice met her Dad at the front door and put her hands on her hips. “Three minutes and ten seconds,” she declared.

“You live dangerously, girl,” he told her. “Next time I’ll just leave without you. Unlike you, I have a job to go to.” He pointed to the kitchen counter, which had a few pastries on it. “Now grab some breakfast and let’s go.”

Beatrice wasn’t as much of a morning person as she liked to pretend. 

Still, today she and her Dad were going to have a lot of fun doing their most cherished activity– strolling to work and to school together. The two of them had walked together nearly every morning since Beatrice started classes as a junior priest. Her Mom went together sometimes, but she usually took the time for an extra hour of sleep.

Their apartment was near Knoll Park, a giant square of greenery in the middle of the expanse of buildings that made up most of Balarand. Knoll Park bordered the famous Lake Geoffrey, which was fed into by the Balarand River on which the city was built. But because the river was just so big, it flowed around the city to its east and west. Balarand was surrounded on all four sides by water, making it effectively a large island.

 Normally, an apartment this deep into the city would be very expensive, but theirs just happened to be wedged in between several larger buildings that obstructed the view of the rest of the city. It was affordable enough for how much Dad made.

They walked past the Wyvern Bridge and into downtown Balarand, where Dad’s workplace and Beatrice’s school were both located. Tons of shops, of course, meant that downtown Balarand was always busy even this early in the morning. People praying at the shrine to Dramaturge, people picking out quick breakfasts, and the early morning marketplaces selling produce. The pungent smell of fruits and vegetables, spices and meats, filled the air, and Beatrice’s nose, even from this distance away.

And of course, amidst all the everyday ruckus of a city morning, there was also an anti-Dannark protest at the foot of the newly-erected statue to Empress Nievol.

“They never stop, do they?” Beatrice asked.

“It’s their right,” Dad said. They stopped talking about it after that.

The two of them walked until they reached their spot, the tree in front of the intersection between Palace Path and the Grand Concourse, and bid their farewells. A few carriages passed underway as they hugged.

“I’ll see you after school, honey,” Dad said.

“Have a good day,” Beatrice said.

They parted ways and she walked another block further until she reached the St. Helens Academy. Being the smallest of the five junior priest academies in Balarand, it was far from the most prestigious in the kingdom, or even the city, but with tiny class sizes–hers numbered just forty–it had a personal touch few others could match.

Beatrice entered the school and walked through the corridor towards her first class–religious studies. The hallways were plain and brown, no stained glass windows, nor murals hanging up, nor trophies being shown off. The interiors in St. Helens were so simple they came off uninviting. But looking fancy served little purpose, Beatrice always thought; it was the classes that mattered.

She walked into the main lecture hall, where her friend and senior by two years Bodhi Makala sat at a desk. Despite his dark skin and smooth handsomeness, he wasn’t some rich aristocrat from the mansions on Lake Geoffrey; he was just a local kid. His father was a shoe cobbler near Beatrice’s apartment, and so the two had known each other for a long time before their junior priest days.

“Are you ready for another fun day at school?” he asked with feigned enthusiasm. 

All Beatrice could muster was a hearty “Hmph.”

Bodhi’s bright blue eyes, so light they were nearly turquoise, glittered at her with a captivating charm. She wasn’t sure if he knew just how pretty of a man he was, because he made no attempt to dress well or show off, usually wearing a cap on his head. But surely he knew about the eyes. There was no way he didn’t.

More students filed in, the ones Beatrice never had the courage to speak to because they were so much taller, so much older. Despite their general lack of interest, they carried themselves like veterans of the school in a way Beatrice couldn’t bring herself to understand. They were a bit intimidating. Not in the same way, as, say, a Dannark soldier, but she did have trouble fitting in with her classmates.

Oh, right, I forgot to mention: most junior priests take eight or nine years to pass all the required classes and finish their schooling. Some here were well into adulthood, though it was a rarer sight back then than it is today. Because of this, Beatrice was the youngest in her entire class, since she was someone who had reached the final AA-grade in just a few years. That sometimes made her stick out.

Beatrice didn’t consider herself a particularly good student. She just liked to do well. Even if everyone else disliked religion classes, even if she seemed to be the only one who ever cared, she wanted to excel. Otherwise, what was the point in even attending the junior priest academy?

Bodhi turned to her and snickered, “Look, Bea, your boyfriend is walking in.”

Mr. Statusian entered the classroom carrying a large scroll underneath his arm. Clean-shaven every time she saw him, baby-faced cheeks and skinny, he fit every stereotype of a religious scholar, except that he carried himself with the confidence of a body-building soldier. He was the youngest priest in Balarand and the top teacher at St. Helens.

“You’re really rude,” Beatrice told Bodhi. “And don’t call me Bea.”

Why were they friends again?

Sure, Mr. Statusian treated Beatrice better than most of the other students. But she also had the highest grades in the class, so it was completely fair.

The teacher set the scroll on the podium and unfolded it, revealing a series of intricate graphs and diagrams written in some foreign script. Beatrice didn’t recognize any of the letters.

Without even attempting to get the class’s attention, he barrelled into his lesson, saying, “So all of you can feel that autumn is here in full force. But do you know what that means? It means the Winter Ceremonies are coming up soon. And since you are AA-grade students, you’re going to be taking part.”

The chatter in the room hushed. Other than some coughing, it was dead silence. 

He continued. “However, what exactly are the Winter Ceremonies? I know all of you have gone out to watch the parades and visit your local shrines, but what do the junior priests do to help, and more importantly, why? What exactly is this scroll I have hanging up here? Mr. Makala, what do you think?”

Bodhi was caught completely off-guard and froze as soon as the dozens of eyes turned towards him. “Uhh…”

Mr. Statusian didn’t let his pause interrupt the flow of the lecture. “Nevermind. How about you, Mr. Naesala?” He pointed to a student a few rows behind Beatrice and Bodhi.

“They do all the… magic stuff that nobody else can, or something,” the young man answered, his voice quivering as he tried to think of what to say.

“That’s vague enough I can’t give you a yes on that. Anybody?” Mr. Statusian looked Beatrice’s way as he waited for someone to answer, but she wasn’t going to say anything. She hated speaking in class, especially when it would continue to earn her a reputation as the class suck-up if she did.

With nobody volunteering their voice for an answer, he sighed and waved his own hand as to gesture off the pressure everyone was currently feeling. “It seems was too caught up in the festivities to notice what your seniors did to honor Bk’Man.” The class elicited a few nervous chuckles. “Well… let’s start from the beginning. Yes, get out your notebooks. Come on, class time is valuable.”

He barely waited ten seconds before beginning his lecture: “So, as is the traditional story of our people, eons ago the Great Mammoths descended onto the continent of Tsubasa. Wherever their trunks moved to, life was breathed into being. Animals grazed on the grass they created, and other lifeforms sprung up from the dirt. All the trees, the flowers, the small animals came forth and populated the lands. But come wintertime, they were wiped out by the cold.”

Some of Beatrice’s classmates were groaning. This was probably the fourth time the creation story had been told in a lecture in as many months.

“The same thing happened every year. The Mammoths would create life, and the snow would destroy it. The Gods were displeased with the constant cycle of death and resurrection, finding it too taxing to deal with. So they assigned Bk’Man to oversee and keep life on Tsubasa stable and harmonious. And as He dealt with the seasons, so too did the Goddess Phyra deal with creating caretakers to bring Tsubasa into prominence, and Nexurk in imbuing power into its essence.

“What arose was humanity, the Mammoths’ servants who were tasked with bringing about harmony to the continent. Of course, humanity also brought war and disease and all our assorted struggles, but most importantly it brought civilization. So we celebrate what Bk’Man does for the passing of the seasons and keeping everyone safe through the weather by contributing ourselves to His honor. 

“Every living being has a soul with innate magical energy within, but humans have more than most, with some of our kind being strong enough to actually manipulate the magic around them–” Mr. Statusian clasped his hands together and stared down at the pieces of paper at his desk. They began to float! A few students clapped, though it lasted only for a brief moment before they fell back down.

“Of course, none of us alone are able to accomplish anything more significant than parlor tricks, but when we band together– just like forming a civilization– we can utilize the Church’s ancient rituals and harness the innate energy within us to perform magical ceremonies such as the one we will be discussing today.”

Mr. Statusian pointed to the scroll behind him. “This is the Winter Ceremonies document. We follow this guideline every single year to make sure that Bk’Man receive the thanks He deserves. And while the priests of Balarand are the ones who perform the most difficult rituals, the junior priests from the five academies put blessings and safeguards over key points across the city. And that will be the primary study subject for the rest of our class.”

The class chattered. Some of it was mumbling excitement, some of it was grumbles.

Bodhi turned to Beatrice and muttered, “Safeguards for the city? How come they didn’t safeguard us against Dannark, then?”

Beatrice shrugged. The Gods didn’t care about politics, was her only guess.

“I’ll give you more details in our next lectures, but for now just know that St. Helens Academy is responsible for Knoll Park,” Mr. Statusian said. “It is our school that rejuvenates the park every spring, and so it is of vital importance that we study the rituals closely. It may not be the most exciting topic, but…”

And that’s where most students’ attentions were lost. He continued to explain the Winter Ceremonies, but it was a bit too complex, even for Beatrice. This section would take months to get through, she could already tell.

After class ended, Beatrice exited the lecture hall with the others and saw a group of girls. “Hey, Beatrice, are you busy today?” one of them asked as she walked by. “We thought maybe you’d like to come along to Foron’s and grab a sandwich.”

Beatrice gave a small smile. “Sorry, I have some work to do today,” she said.

It wasn’t EXACTLY a lie… 

Though… she always felt uncomfortable having fun with the rest of her classmates. These were the people that blew off her favorite class and made fun of the fact she cared about studying. It would be weird to go out with them and switch gears all of a sudden, so she always had an excuse ready to get out of it.

Instead of spending time with classmates, Beatrice went to her Dad’s workplace to do some reading before his shift was over. Luckily, he worked at the library, so there was always something to look at. The collection stretched on for more books than any human could possibly read in a lifetime, and new ones came in every week. It was like paradise for someone like her.

She dropped her school bag on one of the open desks and then walked up to the service desk. That’s where her Dad usually was, when he wasn’t organizing and shelving.

“What’d you learn in school today?” Dad asked.

“Dad, did you know that the AA-grade students were involved in the Winter Ceremonies? I had no idea until today. I feel really stupid.”

Her Dad chuckled. “I think they don’t like to advertise too much it because students might drop out when they find out.”

“I don’t like having things sprung on me…”

“I know, dear. But I also know you know you’ll study everything there is to know about every magic ceremony on the continent by year’s end,” he said. “And since Mr. Statusian warned me ahead of time, I have a stack of books for your reading pleasure just ready to go.”

Her Dad gave her six books, some of them very thick. She smiled and accepted them, before hobbling back over to her desk and set them all down. Time to study.

 Or at least, that’s what Beatrice thought at the time. Because only minutes into opening the first book, she saw a figure with long, straight hair standing by the service desk. And that someone stood apart from everything else around her.

The girl from the marketplace. 

And her dark, soil-brown eyes.

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