Chapter Text

14th of Great Tree Moon, 1180IY

I tried to relax as Professor Casagranda put a hand to my bare chest so her mana could flow out through my body. I wasn’t worried about blushing at her touch, since I was certain my face and ears were already quite red from all the walking and crying I’d done. Besides, I needed to get used to receiving these check-ups from the older woman. Frequent visits to her infirmary over the next two years were inevitable.

“I think you’ll be good to go to your next class today,” Professor Casagranda informed me once she’d finished checking me over with her White Sight. “However, I’m worried about how high your pulse is. If you push yourself like that again, I’m afraid your heart might give out.”

“No more Combat class, then?” I asked.

She shook her head. “There’s no point in learning to fight if you’re more likely to hurt yourself than an enemy. Go ahead and put your shirt back on, and rest for a bit. I’m going to arrange for you to get some food and your uniform delivered, so you can rest here until it’s time for your Strategy class.”

I reluctantly donned my bra and activewear shirt, which were still wet and cold from my sweat. The infirmary had a fireplace, so it wasn’t as bad as if I’d had to walk about the grounds in the clothes I’d ran in, but it was still uncomfortable to lie on the infirmary’s bed. I had to lie there and stew in my disappointment for a good fifteen minutes before Professor Casagranda returned, this time with Headmaster Seteth in tow.

“Lady Lysithea,” he greeted me. “It seems your health condition is more serious than we initially thought. It is unfortunate that you will be unable to participate in Combat classes, but we can make an exception to our normal requirements in case of a disability like yours. Professor Nevrand has informed me, however, that you still hope to compete in some of the inter-house competitions, such as the mock battles. I am here to advise you against this desire. Professor Casagranda has informed me that the state of your heart is bad enough that you should avoid any serious athletic activity whatsoever, including combat, real or simulated.”

“Apologies for doubting that assessment, Professor, but the physicians who saw me at Castle Cordelia weren’t quite as grim about my prospects of recovery,” I replied.

“If you would like yet another opinion, I will take a look at your heart myself. I may not meet the standards of a modern physician, but I am a White mage of some skill,” the headmaster offered. “If I disagree with Professor Casagranda’s evaluation, I may restore permission for some activities.”

“Okay,” I agreed, then started moving to remove my shirt again before noticing that the headmaster had his hand extended. I stopped and took it with my own, and so he closed his eyes in concentration.

A minute later, he spoke. “Apologies, Lady Lysithea, but I am afraid my opinion on your heart matches Professor Casagranda’s. I also noted significant damage in your liver and discovered that you have only one functioning kidney. Tell me, how did you come into this state?”

He got all that just from touching my hand? “A White mage of some skill” was an understatement.

“I was exposed to some dangerous magic as a child, or at least, that’s what the physician told my mother when I was returned to her after spending time as a hostage in the Empire. I was quite young when it happened, so I’m afraid I don’t remember any details,” I lied, easing back on the cover story’s weakness by maximizing my own apparent ignorance.

“Your elder siblings, did they suffer from the same condition?” he asked.

“I’m not sure… I don’t remember them looking like this, but for some reason, I can’t remember anything from around when they died. It’s frustrating,” I continued, showing my anger as best I could to sell the story. In truth, I remembered their agony all too well.

“I find that concerning. Which House in the Empire fostered you?” he asked.

“House Rusalka,” I answered.

“I will have to send Baron Rusalka an inquiry about the details of whatever accident led to your current state, then. If we better understand what might have caused your condition, it may help us understand what treatments will be most effective in prolonging your current level of health, which is, unfortunately, at grave risk of declining,” the headmaster explained.

The headmaster’s statement left me with an uneasy feeling. What would Rusalka reveal, when pressed by the Church? I hadn’t realized how many questions I would raise just by appearing at the monastery. I remembered all of the times mother had sobbed and begged me to choose another path.

“I apologize if bringing up such a topic has caused you unpleasant feelings, but I believe it necessary to address the root of your condition in order to properly fulfill my duty as your headmaster. I will leave you to rest in peace for now; take good care of yourself,” he added, excusing himself.

I sighed in frustration. My heart and stomach now ached from anxiety instead of the pain of exertion. Why did I think I could succeed just because I was smart and because I was determined? No amount of cleverness could hope to make up for my crumbling health. It was as though I were trying to win a game of chess with only my king and a single pawn.

There was a knock on the infirmary door, and Professor Casagranda moved to open it.

“Yo, Lysithea! I brought your uniform and some chow, like the professor asked!” It was Leonie, already wearing her uniform.

“Thank you,” I greeted her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change first,” I said, rising from bed and taking my uniform from her, then moving behind a curtain in a corner of the room.

Once I’d donned my uniform, I came out to the table to eat with Leonie and Professor Casagranda. Our lunch was a chicken soup with onions and carrots; I appreciated the simple seasoning, and the carrots had been boiled long enough that their bitterness had vanished.

“Anything you wanna talk about, Lysithea?” Leonie asked. She’d started the meal by drinking all of her broth, and was now eating the solid ingredients out of the bowl with her fingers.

“I got kicked out of Combat,” I said after swallowing another spoonful. “Turns out my body’s actually worse than I was originally led to believe. I’m not even sure if exercising at all is a good idea, any more. What was it you said, Professor Casagranda? No ‘serious athletic activity,’ right?”

She shook her head. “Nothing that will get your heart too excited, but that doesn’t mean you should become altogether sedentary. If you put on weight, it will actually make things worse. I recommend thirty minutes of light exercise, such as walking or swimming, every day.”

“But no weapons training?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think you should risk strength training, or anything that resembles it,” Manuela said.

“Aw, that sucks!” Leonie said. “Well, if you ever need anything lifted, don’t be afraid to ask me!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I noted. “Since you’ve met him before, I’d like to ask what you think of our Strategy professor, Leonie? I don’t mean to make fun of his appearance, but I think it’s strange that he always has the same expression on his face.”

“Yeah, he’s always been like that. He’s a pretty quiet guy, and a bit of a loner. Loves his books though, so you’d probably get along. He’s not very much like Commander Je—I mean, Grand Master Eisner, but I’ll wait ‘til I’ve been in one of his classes to judge his skills. I haven’t gotten a chance to spar with him, since he didn’t work out at the same time any day for the past week, according to the people I asked. I’ve been trying to wrangle a chance to fight him, but whenever I approach him at the library, he awlays says he's too busy! Professor Rangeld said he didn’t show up at the monastery until New Year’s, and he got hired that same day, so he’s been rushing to get our curriculum done.”

“Isn’t that strange?” I asked. “I can’t believe the Church waited that long to fill the position.”

“The headmaster was planning on teaching it himself,” Professor Casagranda added. “I’m very glad he’s not. He can be unbearably strict even when he’s in a good mood… if he were teaching eighteen more hours a week, then…” she trailed off. “Forget I said anything, please.”

“Well, I’m finished with my food,” I said. “I would appreciate it if you would take our dishes back to the dining hall, Leonie. I need to take my dirty activewear back to my room, and I’m going to need my note-taking materials.”

I saw that Leonie didn’t have a bag to carry any of her own. “Did you forget yours in your room as well? I can get them while I’m at our dorm, if you wish.”

Leonie shook her head and grinned. “Nope! I didn’t buy any! I can’t afford to spend money on ink and paper, unless I really need it, so I’ll just have to memorize everything in my head!”

“Are you serious? That’s no way to learn. I’ll gift you some,” I said.

“But—”

“No buts. Consider it payment for helping me lift things, if you have to, but I’m not going to let someone as nice as you fail just because you’re short on cash,” I declared.

Leonie and I met back in Classroom A, just as Military Strategy was about to begin. All of the front-row seats were already taken, unfortunately, so we took third-row seats behind some Blue Lions.

The 1pm bell rang, and the chatter of the students subsided until only Hilda, gossiping to Claude on the other side of the room, could be heard. Professor Eisner cleared his throat, and she stopped.

“Lord Caspar, please wake Lord Linhardt,” the professor commanded. “It’s time to begin.

“First, let’s go about how this course will be structured. The material I will teach you over the next two years is separated into five distinct stages. In the first stage, we will develop an understanding of the material facts of military units, including their armaments. In the second stage, we will study how terrain influences the clashes between those units. In the third stage, we will learn how the material facts of war determine which strategies are preferable. In the fourth stage, we will study what sort of tactics can be employed to take advantage of the material facts and further our strategies. In the fifth and final stage, we will perform historical analysis on past conflicts so we can learn how the strategies and tactics we’ve studied fared when applied in various contexts, and how the modern context might affect using similar strategies and tactics.

“I understand you’re all from various backgrounds and are headed towards careers that involve differing levels of strategizing, so I’ve tried to include information that will be useful to soldiers of any rank. Those of you who intend to become knights or or military officers should rest assured that we will eventually cover the tactics for various group sizes that will be most useful for your jobs, but there are also future rulers and generals attending. It’s essential that those students leave with a strong grasp of warfare on the highest strategic level. Regardless, understanding both tactics and strategy will help you make decisions on one level that are mindful of concerns on the other.

“Yes, Prince Dimitri?”

“Since we will not be learning any strategy or tactics immediately, how are we supposed to apply what we learn in your class to the mock battle in two weeks?” the crown prince asked.

“I did not know about the mock battle when I designed the curriculum, and I have no intention of changing my lesson plans to account for it. Were you to enter a real combat scenario in two weeks, those of you with no previous combat experience might find some information of value in this course by then, but the materials we’ll be studying likely won’t be applicable to the simulated combat on the thirtieth,” the professor answered.

The professor then began to explain the structure of the day’s lesson.

“Our topic of study today will be personal protection; that is, armor and shields. Understanding how armor works is essential for knowing what types of offense are most effective against differently-equipped foes. Additionally, you’ll want to understand what kind of punishment different forms of protection can withstand, both for your own safety, and the safety of any troops under your command.

“Of course, I won’t be merely describing the effectiveness of each kind of armor. We’ll also discuss the expense of supplying soldiers with each type of protection and weapon we examine in the first unit. Knowing the best armaments to outfit your soldiers with is of no use if you can’t afford them.”

The professor had at the front of the classroom a few examples of armor and shields taken from the monastery’s armory. He described each kind of gear according to his earlier prescription, and in some cases, demonstrated their effectiveness with the dagger at his belt. He also described some gear that wasn’t available in the monastery, giving us only vague visualizations on it, and explaining why it wasn’t kept in stock by the Knights of Seiros.

He gave us a fifteen-minute break at two-thirty, saying that he didn’t think listening to a lecture for too long without any interruption would be good for our retention. Leonie got up to stretch, and I saw that many other students were doing the same.

The social ramifications of being the only student excluded from Combat class were only then coming into view of my mind. I hadn’t even thought about how it might make the class treat me differently. I’d been so focused on trying to succeed, or perhaps my brain had been too addled from my body’s exertion, that I hadn’t bothered to be embarrassed when the Golden Deer had cheered for me at the end of the two-mile run.

And yet, I remembered the looks of pity. I looked around the room and saw a few of the same ones, though they turned away when my gaze wandered towards theirs.

“What do you think so far?” Leonie asked, providing a needed distraction.

“He’s a bit dry and long-winded, but the information seems good,” I noted.

“Yeah, I agree. I hope I don’t ever need to worry about arming thousands of troops, but at least now I have some idea how I’d do that,” she added.

Once our recess had come to an end, Professor Eisner raised his hand and caused a loud snap, a basic bit of magic, to emanate from it, calling us back to our seats. He proceeded with more of what had come before, then finished by soliciting us for questions about what we’d just learned.

The only one with a question was Ferdinand, who got into an intense discussion about the optimal shape for shields that ended with them agreeing to disagree on the matter.

“While I believe Lord Ferdinand’s assertion about the best type of shield is incorrect, I do not ask that you concede entirely to my opinion, as I am only human. What I claim is the best might change were I to go back to the battlefield and observe certain things in action. I have worked my hardest to provide to you the best synthesis of our recorded knowledge possible on the subject of Military Strategy, but I am by no means incapable of being mistaken on this subject,” the professor explained.

“Now, if there are no more questions, I would like to inform you that I will be beginning each of my classes, going forward, with a short quiz on the material covered in previous classes, so that I can be certain you have not forgotten what you were previously taught, as it would be inconvenient for all of us if we reach the parts of this course on managing an army’s finances only to find that you all have forgotten how to project the price of arms,” he announced.

“Study well, and remember: the mind is the ultimate weapon. You are dismissed,” he said, and then the room was alive with the students exiting their seats.

“I’m gonna ask the professor if he needs help putting all that armor back where it belongs. Maybe I can get him to spar, after,” Leonie told me.

“Good luck,” I said.

Throughout his lecture, Professor Eisner had kept that same, steady, neutral expression. He’d spared few glances toward me during the class, focused as he was on explaining his topic. Was he still curious about me, or had he heard of my trip to the infirmary and been concerned for my health, like the students? I had the feeling that even if Professor Eisner came to pity me, I wouldn’t be able to tell from his face alone.

“You okay, Lysithea?” Linhardt said, approaching me from the back of the class where he and Caspar sat. He looked like he’d been utterly bored by Eisner’s lecture.

“For… reasons,” I said, winking at him, “I won’t be able to come to Combat classes anymore, but I should be fine.” At least for the next ten or so years.

He raised an eyebrow. “Lucky… all that exercise is such a bother,” he said with a yawn.

I remembered my bedridden days, the fevers, the headaches, the vomiting, the pain, the weakness . Lucky.

“It’s not lucky, you bastard! I didn’t want to have a heart that might break just because I went for a run!” I snapped, turning some heads.

Linhardt’s eyes went wide open in surprise. In my anger, I was delighted to knock that stupid, bored, sleepy look off his face.

“I’m sorry, I… I just thought—” Linhardt began before Caspar began pulling him away.

“That’s enough, Lin. He’s sorry, okay? We’ll see you later,” Caspar said.

I turned away from the boys, feeling the heat flush my cheeks, and I noticed Edelgard watching us from across the room. There wasn’t a scrap of pity to be found in her piercing, lilac gaze. She merely observed, absorbing my faults and reactions.

“Hey, you okay, Lysithea? Want me to head back to the dorm with you?” Leonie asked, her concern clear.

“No,” I answered a little sharper than I’d intended. “I have some things I need to do by myself. Go help the professor, like you’d planned.”

“Okay, I’ll catch up with you later,” Leonie agreed, reluctant to let me go in this state.

For his part, Professor Eisner appeared to be showing some emotion. His face remained unchanged, but his body was tensed in alarm from my shouting. His posture didn’t relax until Leonie began speaking to him.

I gathered my things and walked outside the classroom, only to find the rest of my house standing by the entrance.

“Heard some shouting in there; you feeling alright?” Claude asked. He was perfectly capable of showing emotions such as pity, sorrow, and the current concern, but it was still difficult to tell if they were genuine.

“Right now, I’m feeling a bit smothered from all of the attention,” I said. “If you’d be so kind, I’d like some time to myself.”

“Alright,” he said, his posture relaxing and his typical smile returning. “I’ll make sure none of these clowns bother you for a bit,” he gestured to the other Deer. “See you at dinner?”

“Certainly,” I said, walking towards the cemetery.

I sat on a nearby bench, looking out at the graves. They reminded me again of what I’d lost, and of the end I was approaching all too quickly, but the graveyard was one of the least-visited locations in the monastery, so I’d headed there put some distance between me and everyone who might fuss over my health and feelings.

I could feel the tears welling up again. I knew Linhardt didn’t know what it was like, didn’t know my Crest had come at the cost of my siblings’ lives, didn’t know that I retreated to books only because of my fragile health. I still hated him, envying his ignorance.

I heard Edelgard’s voice. “I thought I might find you here,” she said

I wiped my tears and turned to look at her. It was the first time I'd seen her without Hubert trailing behind. I was tempted to look and find him sneaking behind me, but I believed Edelgard wanted to speak to me alone.

“I’ve gotten lucky,” she said, sitting beside me and lowering her voice. “Were it not for the specific Crest I gained, I would be the same as you. It’s not clear what determines which Crest a subject gets.”

For some reason, Edelgard’s typical distance from me meant I didn’t mind her intrusion here. She hadn’t spoken to me at all since the interviews.

I asked, “Why did they do it to you?”

“Because you exist. You were the first, I am told, to survive. Because you lived, and you gained a Crest, they became hopeful. Thus, me.” she said, gesturing to herself.

I began to open my mouth, but she chastised me, “Don’t apologize. My siblings were already dead by the time you were subjected to it. For my siblings’ deaths alone, I would hate the Insurrection and plot their ends. If anything, I am grateful you survived. If you’d perished, I would have been left in the Kingdom to marry Dimitri. It would perhaps have been a gentler fate, but not one that suits me. I’ve never been the sort of person content to bear the shackles of others’ control.

“What about you?” she asked. “Is there something for which you would sacrifice your own autonomy?”

“I would gladly die to revive my dead family members, were such a thing possible. I would also die to kill their killers,” I answered.

She gave me a curious look. “So, you regard your freedom equal to your life?”

“What value is my life, but what it may accomplish?” I asked.

“You do not value comforts such that you would surrender purpose for ease, then?” she prodded.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have come here, not so young,” I explained. “You saw how I pushed myself in Combat, didn’t you? I wouldn’t have done that were I overly concerned with comfort.”

“I saw only that you were either unaware of the severity of your condition, or that you were foolish enough to risk yourself anyway,” she replied. She had returned to her typical expression, a carefully neutral face that now seemed altogether different from the naturally emotionless Eisner exterior.

“The physician at home wasn’t nearly as good as the White mages here.” I’d known I was weak, but not that I had no hope of growing stronger.

She sighed and rose from her seat. “Well, I hope you take good care, for the sake of your ambitions. If I’m correct, I will be seeing you tomorrow in Black Magic.”

She left me there after that brief conversation. It was clear we had a common enemy, and yet Edelgard didn’t appear ready to invite me to join her own campaign against the Insurrection. I wondered what answer she might have been looking for, when she’d questioned my character so.

At dinner, I let my whole house know about my permanent withdrawal from Combat, though I could tell a few of them had already guessed as much. Leonie hadn’t informed the other Deer, since she’d just returned from sparring with Professor Eisner, and seemed thrilled to have lost to him.

“Wow, that’s terrible! But you’d better stop complaining about your vegetables, then! They’re really good for you!” Hilda chided me.

I sighed. “Okay, Mom.”

“What? No, you need to eat more meat. That way, you’ll take the animals’ strength into yourself,” Claude argued, eliciting surprised looks from around the table.

“What are you talking about, Claude? That’s not how nutrition works!” Hilda exclaimed.

He displayed genuine surprise. “Huh?”

“The protein in meat only builds up your muscles after you exercise them! Someone like Lysithea who can’t exercise very much shouldn’t eat a lot of meat, because meat also has a lot of fat that could make her, uh, fat!” Raphael explained.

“Sorry, I don’t know what this ‘protein’ thing is,” Claude apologized.

“I’m guessing you’ve never heard of starches, sugars, or vitamins either, then?” I asked.

“Of course I know about sugar! You use it to make things taste sweet. Starch, you use to thicken soups. Never heard of a vitamin, though,” he admitted.

“I recommend you check out a textbook on nutrition, then,” I said. “It sounds like this might be one area in which your education was lacking.”

“Perhaps this is a cultural difference?” Lorenz suggested. “If I recall correctly, the basics of nutrition have been taught by the Church for centuries, as part of their ethos of serving the public’s health. It may be that such knowledge was not exported to Almyra due to being seen as possessing a religious connotation.”

“Hm… it’s true that magic is treated with a lot more superstition in Almyra than over here. In Fódlan, even though almost all priests are trained to heal, there are plenty of other folks who learn to cast. In Almyra, only the holy men are allowed to study and practice magic. You have no idea how strange I find it that you let heathens sign up for Black magic classes, even though you claim that magic is divine in nature,” Claude explained. “I wonder how much other good advice we might have written off because of where it came from.”

Claude put a piece of the night’s meal into his mouth. We had been served a plate of barley, assorted beans, and vegetables with three fried balls of dough.

“Wooh! That’s a unique flavor! Where’s this from?” he exclaimed, still chewing on one of his dough balls.

I put one into my mouth, and—OW, HOT, BURN—I spit the fishy dough back out onto my plate and quickly reached for my drink to put the fire out, almost spilling it in my haste.

“What the hell!?” I shouted as soon as I was able to breath again. “Are they trying to kill us? What kind of food burns you when you eat it?”

“I don’t know, but I love it! I can’t believe rich people get to eat like this all the time!” Leonie exclaimed before biting down on another ball.

“It’s from the West,” Ignatz shared. “There are some places in Derdriu that sell spicy Brigidese and Dagdan food like this, but they’re really expensive. I’ve only had it a couple of times.” He took a bite. “Mmm, delicious.”

“Only three…” Marianne let out with a dejected look on her face. All of her dough balls were already gone.

I gave one of my two remaining spicy fishy dough balls to her and one to Leonie. “Please, by all means, take these away from me,” I begged. “I’ll just focus on forcing down these vegetables.” Why did all healthy food have to taste so bad?

15th of Great Tree Moon, 1180IY

There were eleven students in Professor von Essar’s Black Magic I class, meeting in Classroom B: Myself, Hilda, Lorenz, Claude, Edelgard, Hubert, Dorothea, Linhardt, Annette, Mercedes, and a second-year student, a Blue Lions noble named Gianni. We stood by the room’s entrance per Professor von Essar’s direction until the bell rang. The professor was accompanied by a second-year student from the Golden Deer, a noble named Rosa. She was the daughter of a Glouceseter knight and one of the people who’d interrupted my reading in the main hall.

“Welcome to your first Black magic lesson at the Officers’ Academy. Here, we will dedicate time to your personal development as a battle mage,” Professor von Essar began.

“First a bit about myself. I was born in 1129, the third child of the Baron von Essar and bearer of a Minor Crest of Indech. I graduated from the Imperial Wizard’s College in 1152, the valedictorian of my class, and then began a career of research at that institution. My development of several new methods of Crest testing led to my appointment as the head of the department of Crestology in 1159. However, in 1164, I accepted a position teaching White Magic here at the Officers’ Academy. When the previous Black Magic instructor retired in 1174, I switched to teaching Black Magic, as it was found that the White Magic position was easier to fill.

“Now, it is true that as a Crestologist, White magic is indeed my true specialty. That said, you will find my knowledge and experience to be more than adequate when it comes to casting Black spells. However, you’re better off asking another about the tactical and strategic uses of your magic, as I have no combat experience myself.

“Our first matter of business will be to determine what skill you already possess. It is typical that a single Black Magic I class contains students that range from complete beginners to practiced mages of several years. Please, raise your hands if you are capable of conjuring a flame,” he instructed.

All hands raised save Hilda’s.

“Lady Hilda, please take a seat for now. Everyone else, put your hand down if you can cast a combat-ready fireball.”

I lowered my hand, as did Hubert and the Blue Lion girls.

“I see. The fireball is the iconic spell of a combat mage; you cannot be considered one unless you can cast that most basic of Black spells. As such, I will be enlisting the assistance of those who can already cast the fireball to aid in catching the other students up. Once we are all fireball-ready, we will progress to more interesting methods of offense.

“Lady Rosa, please lead the first-year students in guiding their peers to the complete fireball while I introduce Lady Hilda to the ways of magic,” Professor von Essar directed.

“Greetings, my lords and ladies. I am Lady Rosa Tanja Lacy, and I will be leading you down the path of flame. The first thing to keep in mind is safety. You needn’t hold back as much as normal, as this entire room and everything in it have been warded against most forms of magical damage, including magical flame. The only exception is us . Please keep in mind to stand at least ten feet away from any of your fellow students while manifesting any sort of magical effect, and never to aim your magic at another person. Should you manage to light yourself on fire, please stay calm and drop to the floor, then proceed to put the fire out by rolling over it to deny it air. If ever you injure yourself or another, please alert Professor Hanneman or myself immediately so we may treat the injury as soon as possible,” the second-year said.

“The fireball spell is different from the flames you have been creating so far only in that it is of greater size, so as to have a higher chance of striking your targets, and that it is launched as a projectile. We will focus first on maneuvering the flame before attempting to achieve size.”

Rosa asked us all for our names, and then began pairing us up, so one could watch and give guidance while the other student practiced directing their flame across the other side of the room.

I was a bit annoyed that I’d be spending my first class teaching instead of learning, but I was paired with Edelgard, so I was looking forward to showing her my expertise. She made no attempt to acknowledge the previous day’s events; immediately dedicating her focus to the practice of moving her flame.

When I’d first started learning this spell, I’d had no difficulty directing the flame to and fro. Edelgard’s flame, however, moved erratically. She attempted to pass the flame from one hand to another, a basic exercise, and it moved across the space in front of her body in a zig-zag instead of a straight line.

I gave her some tips on how to conceptualize the actions so that the angle of movement would stabilize. It took her a few more tries, but soon, she was passing the flame from left to right with ease. Then, she practiced projecting the flame further away from her.

Mana was more difficult to control the further it went from one's own body, so a projectile like the fireball would need to have its movement vector applied while it was still close enough to its caster to be easily controlled, but not close enough to burn the caster. One's skill with controlling mana at greater distances could be developed with practice, which was essential for assassination spells that created spell effects from raw mana at a distance, like the one I'd learned for silently destroying hearts. However, controlling the mana at the range of ten feet needed to launch a fireball did not take much skill, so Edelgard was soon able to launch her tiny flame from about that distance.

Making the flame larger was no issue for Edelgard. I watched as the fireball hovering ten feet away from her soon grew to a diameter of five feet, which she then launched at the opposing wall. When the wall was struck, the flaming sphere collapsed as the wards repelled the ignited mana. True to Rosa’s word, there wasn’t so much as a scorch.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Edelgard said after her first successful cast. “I believe I’ve progressed much faster than I would have on my own.”

“Don’t discount your own efforts,” I replied. “You’re able to succeed today because you’ve been working diligently to develop your mana base. That’s the real barrier to entry on a basic spell like this.

Dorothea, Lorenz, and Gianni were still practicing, but Linhardt had already finished casting his fireball. Claude was just sitting and watching, as he’d run out of mana about thirty minutes in.

“You know more advanced spells already, I take it?” she asked.

“A few, mostly dark spells,” I whispered, not wanting to advertise to the class that my spell kit revolved around killing sneakily or quietly.

It wasn’t long before Lorenz and Dorothea mastered directing their flames, but they’d both already expended too much mana to create fireballs of decent size.

Rosa called the class’s attention. “Okay, I think that’s a good place to call it for today. Those of you who ran out of mana, please stay a while I discuss some exercises you should do on your own to increase your mana base. As for the rest of you, you’re dismissed. A big thank you to all of our helpers! And don’t worry, I think we’ll be moving on from the fireball before too long.”

It was a relief to move outside the classroom, for though the flames we’d been using didn’t ignite anything thanks to the wards, they did heat the room up quite a bit.

“Lady Lysithea,” Linhardt called out to me. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t thinking about what it must be like to live with a condition like yours. Will you please forgive me?”

“Why should I?" I snarled. "You’ve done nothing but be rude to me since the first day we spoke to one another. You snoop into my business, you spout off the most banal trivia like it’s a service, and you never stop to consider my feelings before opening your mouth!"

Linhardt was stunned by my refusal; he stood frozen in place with his mouth agape as I walked past him. I spared him no more than a glance as I headed back to my room, but I couldn’t help noticing Edelgard and Hubert coldly surveying the interaction.

I had no idea what Edelgard might glean from that interaction. If she knew Linhardt even somewhat well, it seemed all too likely that she would be able to guess that he’d pressed me for information about Blood Condensation, information I’d willingly given up in exchange for Linhardt’s help. Would she have approved of that exchange?

I’d almost made it back to my dorm when I noticed that the other two people present at the scene had decided to follow me. I turned around to see Annette and Mercedes jogging to catch up with my abrupt departure. I waited for the two of them, curious to see what they wanted from me.

“May I help you, ladies?” I asked.

I’d yet to have a substantial conversation with either of them, but I’d seen them around. Annette was only slightly taller than me and very energetic, always chattering animatedly to whomever was present. Mercedes was quiet without being shy, beautiful without being flashy, and possessing of a gentle and cheerful demeanor. They were nearly as inseparable a pair as Edelgard and Hubert or Dimitri and Dedue—I wondered if they had a similar master-servant relationship, or if they were just close friends (or lovers?).

“Why, we wanted to introduce ourselves, of course. We’ve been trying to get to know everyone, but you’re one of the ones we haven’t had a chance to chat with just yet!” Mercedes cheerfully reported.

“We haven’t had a chance yet because you seem to only talk to people in your own house! But, we can’t just leave you alone after seeing you fight with Lord Linhardt like that! All your friends are still in class, right?” Annette asked.

I shook my head. “My feud with Lord Hevring isn’t anything you need concern yourselves with.” The more students found out about Blood Condensation, the higher the risk it would leak to the Church. “However, I would be glad to make your acquaintance. Would I be mistaken in guessing you attended the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad?”

“Not at all! That’s where Mercie and I met!” Annette exclaimed. “Where did you learn magic?”

“Private tutors,” I replied. “You two are close, I take it?”

“Of course! Mercie’s my best friend in the whole wide world!” Annette proclaimed, beaming. Mercedes smiled her agreement.

“So, what brings you to the Officers’ Academy?” I asked. “In my case, I wanted a better magical education, but my family is on bad terms with the Empire, and Fhirdiad was much farther away. Leicester’s magic schools aren’t nearly so impressive.” I wasn’t lying, since those were among my reasons.

“Well, in my case, I’m supposed to be looking for a husband. It’s a bit of a waste, if you ask me, but I prefer it to letting my stepfather do the match-making,” Mercedes explained.

“I’m here to support Mercie!” Annette declared. “Oh, but, if you see a knight with hair the same color as mine, let me know, okay? One of my relatives wandered off a while back, so I’m out here looking for him. He was a fierce fighter and a devout believer, so I think he might have joined the Knights. Trouble is, half the knights change their names when they join, and more than half of them are out on missions at any given time! For all I know, it might be another year before he comes back to the monastery, even if I turn out to be right!”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said. “I’ll be seeing both of you again in White Magic, right?”

“That’s right!” Annette exclaimed. “I’m hoping we’ll learn a lot more than our first day of Black, but I guess it must be rough for the professors to manage teaching students of all different levels. I mean, Edelgard, Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix could probably fight off everyone else in the class working together in a melee, but they have to take Combat at the same pace as the rest of us.” I nodded my agreement.

“Would you like to join us for tea after class?” Mercedes offered. “They let students use the kitchen on Saturdays, so I made a whole lot of scones and biscuits!”

“Ooh, Mercie’s sweets are the best! You’ve got to try them!” Annette urged.

“Well, with an endorsement like that, how can I refuse? I graciously accept your invitation.” I agreed.

I didn’t see a political benefit to befriending these two, but they were nice, and offering me sweets, so I felt I ought to oblige them. Besides, after all I’d dealt with over the past week, I deserved the treat. After all, I was sure that something would happen in White class to make the day even worse.